Educational

Oral Zone

INTRODUCTION

It is only in the past few years that the public has openly welcomed sex studies that frankly reveal the true acts of man when caught up in the powerful thrust of the oral sexual drive.

Authorities have pointed out that there is no part of the human body which has not, is not, or will not be used by someone for sexual gratification. Probably one of the most controversial combinations is a relatively direct and obvious one: mouth to genital contacts between persons of the same or different sex.

Looking at it in a purely objective manner, what could be more natural, one would think, than for an erogenous zone like the mouth, lips and tongue to be used to stimulate another erogenous zone, the male penis or the female vulva? Also, while the birds and the bees may not do it, many of the lower mammals, unrestricted by social convention, quite freely utilize oral stimulations among their inborn sexual techniques.

The formidable Krafft-Ebing, for example, was sternly moralistic in his nevertheless monumental sex study, Psychopathia Sexualis when he wrote: "These horrible sexual acts seem to be committed only by sensual persons who have become satiated or impotent from excessive indulgence in a normal way."

In the main, society's reaction to "strange" sex impulses was to pretend they didn't exist. Or, if exposed, to react in yet another manner: "-Perhaps if we don't say anything about it, or don't recognize it, perhaps it will go away." It won't. Not only does resistance to the presence of unwanted facts lower man's own estimate of his kind, but it further encourages even harsher actions in the future. It even goes further. If we refuse to recognize simple truth in sex, how then, can we seek truth in other aspects of life?

Oral love has been a motivating force in the sexual life of man since time began. Animals have no qualms about it. It is part and parcel of all their sex actions. Only man has hesitancy in acknowledging the role this vital impulse plays in his life. This reluctance to accept a continuing sexual action is best expressed in the various terms used to designate the performance itself: "Cocksucker," "Cunt Lapper," are the two most general terms to ridicule acts of fellatio and cunnilingus. Among those who are not quite so vitrioloc about the impulse, more humorous forms of expression are found: "Box Lunch at the Y," "Clean Out the Kitchen," "Gobble the Goop," "Pearl Diver," "Yodel in the Canyon," "Sword Swallower," and "Pricknic Ream" are but a few. Chapter I

It should be obvious to anyone who has ever watched an extremely young child that one of the first uses of his mouth is the examination of the world around him. In addition to seeking out and touching objects, he also places objects in his mouth to taste them and to suck on them. Some authorities relate this to a desire for nourishment, while many others believe the sucking response is an end in itself, apart from any need for gratification of the hunger urge.

One mother who consulted a doctor for help reported with obvious horror her discovery of her six month old twin boys, whom she had left naked and asleep in their crib one hot summer night, lying in a close sixty-nine position, eyes still closed, drowsily but enthusiastically sucking on each other's penis!

It was obviously a coincidental juxtaposition of their bodies which had caused them to react in their usual manner-which involved an exploration of the immediate area with their mouths. The mother's borrow was augmented by the fact that the boy's organs were standing up erected like tiny pointing lingers and she immediately feared (presumptuously and illogically) that both her sons had been born homosexual.

It is, of course, easier for children to carry their oral explorations on if at least one member to the accidental act is a boy. Even so, the accidental aspect of any such situation precludes it from occurring very frequently. More often than not, whenever an extremely young child is involved in an act of oral sex, he or she is promoted into the act by someone who is older.

An unfortunate instance of this came to light in a psychiatrist's files on a thirty-five year old man who contacted the doctor in an effort to cure a habit which involved an incestuous form of oral sex.

The subject was obviously suffering from a severe guilt complex as a result of his compulsive behavior, and seemed almost eager at times to tell of his sins. Before getting married," he said, "I never did have much of a sex life. Oh, I dated a few girls in high school, but I was much too shy to do anything with them. A lot of times I never even got a good night kiss. In college I used to listen to the guys tell about their conquests, and I felt very envious of them because I was still a virgin. There was this one girl in college who was a real dog, but the fellows all said she put out if you were real desperate. Well, by that time I was real desperate, all right, so I asked for a date, and she said okay. I figured I could park in some dark spot, so I

wouldn't have to look at her. At least it would be better than masturbating, I thought, and I wouldn't have to feel so damned immature for still being a virgin at twenty-one. So we went out. I took her to an art movie way over on the other side of town so no one would see us together, then to a dark bar for a couple of drinks where I could bolster my courage with some booze before embarking on my great adventure. I guess I was pretty nervous before the bar closed. I guess I was pretty nervous about the whole thing, and I even thought about chucking the entire idea and taking her home. Then I realized it was now or never, so I drove as fast as I could up to a lovers' lane I knew about, where it was dark and you could see the lights of the city way down below. I cut the motor and lights, turned on the radio for some soft, romantic music, and reached out for her.

I guess she'd been through the routine before, because she wasn't bashful. She didn't stop me when I unbuttoned her blouse and put my hand in, working the fingers under the bra to feel her tits. She had pretty good-sized boobies, all right, and I could feel the tip harden up against my palm. That wasn't all that was hardening, either. My prick was standing up firm and straight against my pants, and the idea that finally I was going to get laid didn't do me any harm in that department either.

But when I reached down under her skirt, she stopped me by gripping my wrist with her hand. I figured she was just teasing, so I kept on, but the harder I tried to get my hand up between her legs, the more she fought me off. I asked her what in hell was the matter, and she said that she was sorry but she couldn't. She hadn't wanted to tell me when I'd asked her for a date, because she thought I wouldn't want to take her out.

She was in the middle of her period!

I was getting pretty frustrated by that time. I guessed Fate really had it in for me. My first real chance to get a piece of ass, and she has to have her period. It was probably why none of the other guys were dating her that weekend. I even wondered if maybe some of them had sort of conned me into dating her, as a practical joke, knowing this would happen.

I muttered a few pretty choice curses and reached for the ignition key to get the hell out of here, but her hand stopped me. Her hand stopped me by moving down on my thigh, and palm spread, and then gliding over to the front of my pants, which was bulging out. She patted and stroked me down there, and she said that she didn't mean for me to get hung up, that she'd take care of me. She smiled in the darkness of the car, and I could see her teeth flash. Without any hesitation, she unzipped the front of my trousers, reached in and untangled my stiff dick from the underwear. I'd never had a girl hold me down there and I had to admit that the touch was pretty exciting, much more so than when I did it myself. I thought she was going to jerk me off, but she had something else in mind.

She licked her lips and said that I looked good enough to eat. Then, before I realized what was happening, she bent her head into my lap and with one hand firmly holding my dick, she started kissing and licking the top of it. At first I could hardly believe what was happening. But in a moment the pleasure was so intense I believed it all right. Her mouth went all around the top of my dick, with that tongue of hers snaking in and out to just lightly touch the very top, and I could feel her teeth nipping now and then at the flesh.

I swear I nearly went right through the roof. And then her whole mouth opened wide and moved down as though she wanted to swallow the whole thing at once. Then she moved her head back up, with the lips tightly gripping the shaft of my throbbing dick all the way. All I could see was the top of her head moving up and down, up and down, but I could feel everything she was doing down there-which was plenty. When I could feel myself coming, I took hold of her head and held it down over me, while I lifted up my hips to force my dick farther up into her mouth. She struggled and tried to make some sounds to tell me to let go of her. I guess she didn't want to have my orgasm in her mouth, but I was so worked up I didn't want her to get away. I just grabbed her hair, held onto it, and kept pumping my dick up and down in her mouth until I came.

Wow, that was an experience. I'd never had an orgasm so great, and I was pretty sure that even straight screwing wouldn't be that great.

After I took her home, I ran into a couple of guys who asked me what happened. I played it casual and shrugged and said that she'd sucked me off, what else? They were pretty envious, you can bet.

"After that, I had a few more dates with the girl. I even laid her in the back seat of the car one night. But it was uncomfortable back there, and I couldn't seem to arrange myself right, and-well, to tell the truth, it wasn't as much fun as I'd expected. When I was finished with college, I got this job with the engineering firm. I had a few dates with some of the girls in the office, but most of them working there seemed to be married or wanted to introduce me to their old maid sisters or cousins. And the ones I did go out with, even if they'd let me pet them or screw them, didn't go for the oral bit. Once I had one of them over at my apartment and we were on the bed naked and fooling around, and I wiggled around and thrust my stiff dick into her face. She got a funny look on her face and asked me what the hell I was doing. I told her I wanted her to kiss it, to suck on it, and to put it in her mouth and chew on it. Instead of doing any of that, she slapped my face, called me a god-damned pervert for wanting her to do a dirty thing like that-and she got up, put on her clothes, and never dated me again. It didn't matter so much about that, because I never really liked her very much, but I hated to lose a good piece of ass.

I met my wife Rosa through some mutual friends. She was shy, like me, a couple of years younger than my thirty-four, and had never married either. We got along pretty well right from the start. She was quiet, like me, and not very demanding. We had sex-you know, the regular kind-a few times, after which she'd always sniffle and tell me how much she loved me. I began to think of getting married and settling down. I'd read marriage manuals that told that oral sex was perfectly normal, so I figured instead of pushing my luck before we got hitched, I'd wait until afterward and that it would be a natural thing for her to do to me. Besides, I was pretty bashful around her, and afraid that if I brought up a subject like that, she might get embarrassed and not do anything at all.

Anyway, we got married-but the oral sex didn't just naturally come about as I expected it to do. After awhile, I finally got around to asking her to do it to me-and she refused. She said that was where I urinated, and she wasn't going to put her mouth on that, that she'd get germs, and that I was a beast to even mention it to her. I showed her the marriage manuals, but it didn't do any good. She said it might be okay for some people, but not her.

So I had to be satisfied with doing it the regular way. But I kept remembering how good it had been when a girl went down on me, when her tongue reached out and licked' the top of my cock and along the side; when her lips nibbled all up and down the side; and when her mouth took all of me and I shot off big and strong. Our sex life really wasn't so hot. We kept arguing all the time, not over sex particularly, but over the slightest thing. I never even bothered to mention the oral thing, because I knew that would really start off a whopping big argument. A couple of times when Rosa' was asleep in bed with me, her mouth was open in a snore, and I wondered what would happen if I just eased up there with my dick in. my hand and stuffed it into her mouth. Maybe I could sit on her chest, with my knees on her shoulders to hold her down, so she'd have to suck on It whether she wanted to or not. I always got hard just thinking about it, but I never attempted it because I knew there'd be hell to pay afterward.

Then Rosa got pregnant with our little girl, Liz. After the child was born, we couldn't have any sex for awhile, until the stitches healed up, so I decided to go to a call girl. It was a number one of the guys in the engineering department gave me, and he said she was a real doll who would do anything and everything. I think it was that last statement that started me reminiscing about the good things in life I'd been missing. So I called her up and made an appointment and went over for a visit. She was quite pretty, with a good figure. She asked me if I wanted anything special, and I asked her what she did. It was my first time with a pro, and I was a little bit nervous. She had a nice apartment, and we sat and had a couple of drinks, while she ran down the list of things she did. You can imagine what particular thing I picked out, I guess. I wanted to have that gorgeous red-lipped mouth kiss me all over my dick and to open up and take me inside.

Which is exactly what happened. I almost went out of my mind, it was so great. I'd nearly forgotten how good it was that way; and I decided I'd go to a pro at least once a week to have it done to me.

It was a good plan, except with a new baby our bills were mounting up. Then Rosa had some female complications afterward, which cost some more money. I just couldn't afford to go, or if I did, I felt guilty. What I resented most was that I either had to go without or had to pay for it, when I had a wife who was supposed to do it to me. I was frustrated, annoyed, and angry with her. I certainly hoped our little girl Liz wouldn't grow up to be so selfish and narrow-minded. It was about Liz that I got this idea, you see. She was seven months old when I thought of it. It happened while Rosa was out someplace or other and I was babysitting at home. Liz was crying, for her bottle, I guess, and I had it heating while I went in to look at her in the crib. She was a cute kid, all right. When I looked at her, she stopped crying and started making sucking motions with her lips.

I remember laughing and thinking how nice it would be if I could teach her mother to make motions like that-but not with a bottle nipple in her mouth. And that's when I got this crazy idea. If the mother wouldn't give me a little harmless pleasure, why not the daughter?

I guess I must've talked myself into and out of it a half dozen times. Then I figured, what the hell, what would be the harm of it. Liz was too young to know what was happening. She wouldn't remember anything that I did to her, and she was sure as hell too young to tell anybody about it. The idea of having a young innocent sucking on me was pretty exciting, but I didn't feel quite right about it just the same, even though I knew there wasn't really anything bad that could come of it. After all, she was my daughter, and I remembered from some college courses that in some cultures around the world a father was expected to have sexual relations with his daughter.

It was certainly better, I rationalized, than either of us going to strangers. Like I said before, just the idea of someone sucking my prick gets me very excited and by the time I'd made up my mind about Liz I had a good stiff one, which made me all the more determined. I knew that Rosa wouldn't be back home for another hour, so I had plenty of time.

So I took the kid out of her crib and put her on our bed where there'd be more room. She kept crying and making those sucking motions with her mouth and reaching out to get the bottle from me. I realized it was time to strike while the dick was hot, so I unzipped, took .it out and got on the bed, leaning over her, so it dangled right over her face.

Maybe she thought it was a new kind of bottle or more likely a teething toy, because she reached out and grabbed the flesh with both hands and pulled it down to her mouth. She could only get the tip of it in her mouth, but she was filled with enthusiasm and kept moving her lips in that familiar suction movement. It wasn't only that she was sucking on it, but I think it was also that here I was doing something I'd never heard anybody doing before having a baby do it to me-and I guess that made me all the more excited. I nearly had an orgasm right then and there.

But I backed off instead and rested a moment. Liz started yelling for her new-found toy again. I guess she was enjoying what she was doing, and I knew sure as hell I

was. You know that old saying about a stiff dick not having any conscience. Well, right then and there I wasn't worrying about whether this was right or wrong. I only knew it felt good and I was going to do it again.

So I moved right back into position again, with the same results. Except this time, I didn't back off. I stayed right in there, except just as I came, I turned my dick so it wouldn't spurt into her mouth. I guess it must have scared her, because she started crying even more. I got nervous then, because I figured with the kind of luck I had, Rosa would be outside parking the car at that instant and hear the kid yelling and come rushing in to find my stuff all over Liz's face. I got out some Kleenex and wiped her up so well I was sure my wife wouldn't suspect anything had happened. Rosa didn't. I was giving Liz a bottle when she came home. I knew that it had been fun and I'd gotten away with it completely. I felt guilty and ashamed about it, even though I tried to convince myself that there was no reason to be concerned over a little simple fun that wouldn't do any harm to anybody. After all, I reasoned, the only reason I did it, is because Rosa wouldn't do it to me, like she was supposed to. Besides, I told myself, it was just an experiment, and I didn't have to do it again." At this point, the subject smiled wanly and said, "At least, I thought I didn't have to do it again.

But I kept thinking about how great it was. And there it was, ready, willing and available to me. It was sure better than going to a prostitute. This, at least, was keeping it in the family.

Anyway, I couldn't resist doing it again, one time when my wife was out shopping. It was funny, the way I'd gotten to suggesting she-my wife, that is-get out more often. You know, go out to a movie or shopping or to the beauty parlor while I stayed home and babysat. Rosa was actually pleased that I was taking such an interest in our child. Of course I didn't tell her what kind of an interest I was taking, though I came close by saying that Liz and I had a lot of fun together.

I suppose it was inevitable that I should get discovered. One afternoon, Rosa came home earlier than expected, while I was so busy letting Liz nibble on my dick I didn't hear her. It wasn't until I heard a shocked gasp from the bedroom doorway that I realized the child and I weren't alone. I looked up and was as startled as she was. I was pretty close to having an orgasm, and the sight of Rosa standing there with a shocked, white face made me lose all control and let go.

I spurted right into Liz's mouth this time, and she started choking and gagging. Rosa came rushing up to take care of her while I backed away, zipping up my pants and wondering how in hell} was going to explain this away. There was obviously no way I could. Rosa came at me with venom in her eyes. She said I was a filthy, perverted animal, doing something like that to an innocent child, and, I should be locked up in prison or an insane asylum.

To tell the truth, I was embarrassed but I was pretty sore myself. I started shouting at her. I said it was her own fault because she wouldn't suck me off. Then I stormed out of the house and went to the nearest bar to get drunk. Actually, I guess I just wanted to get out of the house so I wouldn't have to look at her accusing face. Even after a

half dozen drinks, I knew that she was right and I was wrong. So I went back home and begged her to forgive me. I went through the whole bit, dragging in the marriage manuals to show that what I wanted from her was considered all right and wouldn't be so bad if she tried it. All the while, she gave me the silent treatment. I was pretty pooped by that time anyway, so I just got undressed and went to bed.

I don't know what time it was, but it was still dark outside when I woke feeling very good. I could tell that I had a hard on, and in the darkness of the bedroom someone was mouthing my dick. I could tell it was Rosa. She didn't seem to enthusiastic about it, but at least she was trying. I'm generally. a pretty heavy sleeper, and I guessed she was practicing on me, thinking I wouldn't wake up. So I pretended I was still asleep, because I was enjoying it and didn't want to get embarrassed and stop what she was doing.

Right about then I was feeling no pain, that's for sure. I was thinking now that Rosa had started doing this to me, I'd really have myself a good sex life. Of course" I knew she was probably only doing it to keep me away from the kid, but that was okay. I didn't care what her reasons were for doing it, just as long as she did it. And she was doing it now, not too well, but well enough. I could feel her warm lips, the hot cavity of her mouth as I slipped in and out, in and out, the tip of my dick touching her tongue each time it went in.

When I started to come, she tried to move away, but I reached down and held her head. I could see her eyes widen and she pushed against me, trying to get free. But I held her tightly and thrust my dick deep into her mouth and came.

Then I sighed relief and let go of her head. She got up off the bed staggered out of the bedroom and into the bathroom, where she threw up into the toilet. I could hear her muttering curses and what a filthy pig I was, and then she gargled her mouth out about a dozen times. I remembered thinking, just before I dropped off into a contented sleep, that I'd have to stop at the drug store and get lots of mouthwash. That's what I thought, but I was wrong. Sure, during the months that followed, she kept going' down on me-but only when I really went after her and demanded it. And even then it wasn't as good as it should have been. What bothered me the most was that every time she did it, she kept gagging like she was going to throw up allover me, and afterward we did go into the bathroom and get sick. I started resenting her attitude, but I didn't know what I was going to do about it.

That is, I didn't until one day when my wife Rosa was out visiting her mother. She'd decided that since she was making the big sacrifice, I'd leave little Liz alone. The kid was walking around now, and this time she stopped right in front of my spread legs where I was sitting, reached out to steady herself-and touched me in front. I could feel her warm palm move against my dick even through the cloth, and I couldn't help but wonder if she'd like a toy to play with that she hadn't seen for awhile. Before I could even think to talk myself out of it, I'd unzipped my fly and pulled my dick out. Liz was at just about the right height to examine it, which she did with both hands, turning it this way and that, squeezing it. I started getting hard right in her hands, and she seemed pleased with what was happening.

And then she did with all her toys. She put it in her mouth ...

I know a lot of people would think it was a rotten, dirty thing for me to do to an innocent child. But it was that very innocence which attracted me. My wife Rosa sucked me off but didn't really know what it was all about: and that seemed for some to make it all the sexier.

So I'd started in again. I let Rosa alone more often after that, and I guess that's what made her get suspicious. Now that Liz was older and couldn't mistake my stiff dick for her-bottle nipple, her attention drifted from playing with the new toy. Besides that, the taste of it seemed unappetizing to her. What she did like, though, was grape Jelly, which my wife used to spread on toast for her every morning. That's how I got the Idea to take a knife and spread a little of the Jelly over my dick and touch her lips with it. After that, I never had any trouble having her suck and lick it.

And it was one afternoon when she was doing that, that Rosa come into the room and discovered us."

The subject then reported how his understandably irate wife grabbed up the knife he'd used to jelly his sex organ and tried to castrate him with it. She failed in the attempt, but she did institute divorce proceedings against the man threatening to bring out the facts in court unless he sought competent psychological treatment. Aware of the social stigma inherent in the act he'd committed and criminal aspect of it, the subject readily agreed, and is currently undergoing analysis.

This may be an extreme case, but it does serve to illustrate the compulsive nature of many sex acts. While there is an obvious undercurrent of guilt and anxiety in the subject at present, he insists on rationalizing his behavior in that his wife refuses him, so he merely utilized a substitute. There is undoubtedly more to his motivations than this, ego his background, family life, sexual experiences and lack of them, etc. But delving into these matters is not our concern at this point and is more suitable for the psychiatrist's couch.

As mentioned, the case may be extreme, but it is not unique. Many other similar instances came to light, with variations on the same theme. For example, a reverse instance came during an interview when a young mother freely admitted that she kissed her infant son "all over," which included his testicles and penis, and eyen sucked on him because it pleased him. She regarded this activity, however, as a mere show of affection and not of any psychological significance.

If she is serious about this, there is certainly cultural precedence for it. There are known primitive societies existing today in which the people as a matter of course fondle, caress, and kiss the genitals of both male and female infants, apparently to instill in them a sexual confidence that may serve them in good stead during their later, pubescent years.

It is significant that the Kinsey Institute discovered that most sex offenders with very young children are not dirty old men lurking on dark street corners, but persons the children knows, often suppose-and of course this includes oral sex, which the individual may feel safer, since it does not involve rupturing a girl's hymen or otherwise injuring her in any way.

The male who desires getting his sexual kicks this way may, as in the instance cited in some detail, take advantage of a girl so young she doesn't realize the object of her affection is a part of the man. In later life, when some awareness does come, a man must use other subterfuges. One case which came to light was that of an uncle living with the family, which included a young couple and their six year old daughter. The uncle was frequently left alone with the young girl, the parents taking advantage of their having a "built-in babysitter." Both the girl and the older man-he was in his early forties-seemed to like each other very much and got along very well. The uncle got into the habit of insisting the girl take a bath before going to bed, and he'd even take the soap and lather her all over with it-all over, including up between her legs. The girl was used to being nude in front of him so she didn't mind him doing that, or him drying her with a towel, or putting her on the bed where he'd play little games with her. One of his favorite games was, "I'll kiss it better." The girl, being quite active, was constantly getting tiny bruises on her body, and-the uncle would see these and sympathize by putting his mouth on the wound.

He'd pretend sometimes that a freckle was a sore spot, and he'd kiss it better. Sometimes he'd even imagine she had a bruise way up between her legs which she couldn't see, and he'd put his head between her legs and kiss the inside of her thighs. She thought it was funny when he kissed her navel so that it would heal up. Of course she was a little embarrassed when he spread open her legs and pointed to, as she later told authorities, "the place where I make water."

She went on, "He said that I'd had that cut up between my legs for a long time and it never healed up. He said he knew just what would do the trick, and before I could say anything he put his head down between my legs-I was on the bed at the time just after taking my bath, and he was kneeling on the floor beside the bed-and I started giggling because his beard scratched and tickled me.

Then I felt him kiss me way up on my legs, and then he planted a real juicy one right on the place he said he would. It felt-well, sort of funny. I didn't mind it exactly, but then nobody had ever done that to me before, not even daddy or mommy. I thought he'd stop then, but he didn't. He kept kissing me there harder and harder, and then his tongue touched me right in the center and forced inside.

I started getting a little nervous, so I told him that I was tired and mommy and daddy would be home pretty soon. Then he got up and smiled and told me not to tell my mommy and daddy about our little games together, because they wouldn't

understand. I promised I wouldn't, and I didn't either."

Generally, sex offenders with children are caught because the children do tell, but in this instance the six year old girl treated it as a secret and didn't tell. The uncle's insistance on playing variations of the game, however, succeed in getting him caught.

One night when she was getting ready for bed, the uncle asked her if she remembered how he'd always kissed her in special spots to make it better, and when she said yes, he told her that he had a spot that needed kissing because it ached him something terrible.

The girl was instantly sympathetic and said she would, thinking it was a game he was playing. Then the uncle took off his trousers and underwear and stood there beside the bed in front of her. He pointed to the tip of his penis and said the reason it was so swollen at the top and so red-looking was because it hurt so much.

He moved even closer so it was right in front of her face, and he said, "Go on, honey, kiss it better."

The girl needed some convincing. She'd seen her father go to the bathroom, so she knew that part of the male anatomy, though certainly not well. Still, it embarrassed her, so she shook her head no.

"But you promised," the uncle said in a hurt tone of voice. "Look how sore it is. It's starting to throb."

The young girl realized he was right. It was not only throbbing, it was swelling up in size. Impulsively, she reached out, grasped his sex organ and planted her soft lips on the tip of it.

The uncle sighed and told her it felt so much better already. He urged her to keep kissing it, to make it better."

The girl reported that she didn't really like the taste but the uncle seemed to feel so much better that she didn't want to disappoint him. So she held onto it with both hands and kept kissing it, not only on the tip but all over. Instead of the swelling going down, though, it increased as did the throbbing. Then suddenly it began to shake and it started spurting all over.

It frightened her, but the uncle sat down on the bed, pulled her close and kissed" her warmly, "See, he said a moment later, you kissed it better."

The girl looked, and sure enough, the thing she'd kissed was now hanging limply between the uncle's legs. The next day, she was so proud of what she'd done and despite the uncle's warning, she told her mother of the good deed she'd done. Needless to say, the shocked mother told an equally shocked father, and uncle's days of kissing anything better were soon a thing of the past.

The use of a child of either sex as an oral sex object, on the receiving or the giving end, by an older person or by one of his or. her contemporaries is pretty far from the desired norm The average person who is more Interested m the total human rather than only the genitals and their manipulation by lips, mouth and tongue, has a difficult time in understanding the oral sex urge when it reaches such basic levels.

Chapter II

I'm not really sure if there are other girls like me. For a long time I was so embarrassed about the way I am that I wouldn't even admit it to myself. But I suffered such shame and guilt that I'm willing to let my diary be published if it'll help just one girl to know she's not alone in the world. If there's another girl somewhere who has the same driving need to ... well, to do the nasty sex things I always wanted to do without admitting it-that girl needs all the moral support she can get." So states the young female victim of an overpowering sexual perversion which to this day dominates her intimate sexual relationships. Gwenn Henderson, as we shall call her to protect her identity, is twenty-one years old at the time of this writing. She is a file clerk in an Encino bank where she has been employed for almost a year. With respect to these isolated facts, of course, Gwenn bears a resemblance to literally hundreds of other girls in Encino, and to thousands throughout the nation.

But in other respects, this young woman's life is radically different from the lives of her peers, particularly with regard to her personal sex practices. When her case was first brought to my attention I conducted a number of personal interviews in order to satisfy myself that her story was valid. During the course of these interviews, I recommended her to a psychiatrist. It soon became apparent that the girl's psychological problem was one which could be described as a "self perpetuating, traumatically induced erotic compulsion." In other words, although Gwenn's perversion originated as the result of an externally caused sexual episode which occurred during her childhood, it is now so thoroughly a part of her that she does not really want to change. Unconsciously, she desires to continue participating in precisely those acts which at an earlier time she had regarded with shameful guilt. At that time her claim was that she desired nothing more than to divest herself of her desire for her acts, although it has been now determined that on a much deeper level, Gwenn reveled in the satisfaction she received from them.

As to the perverse acts themselves, the intimate diary which follows is a more appropriate vehicle for such a revelation that is the more objective introduction which I am providing. Such personal details are much more effectively presented in Gwenn's own words, for only there can the whole story be told from the vantage point of the person who lived it.

Dear Diary

A girl in the savings department put a bug in my ear about a brand new sex kick today. At first I just laughed at her but then I found out that she was serious. She'd been dating a Negro, and she says he's the greatest thing since sliced bread. I. never would have thought of dating a black person before, much less ... well, much less letting him put his black cock into my white pussy. I mean, I'm not prejudiced or anything, but, gee, the very idea of ... well, anyway, let me tell you what this girl told me. She said she'd dated a lot of guys in her life but her black boy-friend is the most exciting guy she's ever known. And when she said "known," she meant it.

She said that as far as she was concerned the old joke about Negroes having bigger dicks than white guys is no joke at all. She said her boyfriend had a cock on him that would choke a horse. Then she giggled and said there were a lot better things for him to do with it than that, and that she never wanted him to waste even one inch of it by doing anything so silly with it. The more she talked about it the more I considered that a nice big black cock might be just what I need to give me a new thrill.

Later, talking to the same girl, she could see that I was interested, I guess. She asked me if I wanted her to fix me up with a date. I didn't give her an answer right away, but she was real nice about it and said I didn't have to tell her my answer right then.

I'm really thinking about doing it. A couple of nights after she first told me about how good Negroes were in bed. I had a dream about a big black guy. I dreamed he was sitting across from me with a big smile on his face and his cock out of his pants. And I had my hands on it playing with it. What a monster it was-it was like running my hands up and down a rolling pin.

I hope she broaches the subject again. I don't want to be the one to bring it up, but if she asks me again I think I'll ask her to get me a date with one of her black boyfriend's buddies. Who knows? Maybe a giant black dick in my mouth is what I need to start my pussy jerking in the throes of an orgasm even better than I've had before.

One week later it was all set. She mentioned it again and I told her I was game. She said she was sure she could get me a date with a friend of her boyfriend's named Joe. And she said that she's met him before. He has a great build-a small waist and a set of shoulders like a prize fighter's. That's not all, either. She said she could see a big bulge in his pants while he was with her and her boyfriend.

I can hardly wait until I see him. I've completely gotten over any misgivings I may have had about dating a Negro. All I'm thinking about now is the big cock he's supposed to have. Goodbye for now. Tomorrow night I'll know.

I must admit, last night I saw what a real man looks like. Joe turned out to be pretty much like I'd expected. And that's saying a lot because from the way my girlfriend at the bank talked, I was expecting a lot.

Joe picked me up at my apartment early. It was about a half hour before he was supposed to be there when I heard a knock at the door. As soon as I had let him in and introduced myself I asked him if he knew he was so early.

He said, "Sure, Gwenn, I know I'm here before you expected me. But it's no accident. I wanted to be early to take advantage of the short time we're going to have together."

When I asked him what he meant he said 'Honey, I have a hunch however much time we have together tonight won't be enough. You know what I mean?" At first I was kind of taken aback by his being so familiar with me and calling me "Honey" before he hardly knew me, but something about the sparkle in his eye made me want him to be familiar.

And to top it all off, I wasn't even dressed when he knocked on my door. I had to answer it wearing only a robe. I made sure it was a thick chenille one though and not a thin, transparent one like I could have worn. His eyes immediately riveted onto my tits. They were far from being out in the open. But my thirty-nine inches look especially big over my small waist and they were both pooching out my robe like they do in a wool sweater.

I asked him to wait for just a few minutes and I'd be ready. Joe looked down at the top of my robe-he was a tall guy, six two or six three-and said, "No problem, baby.

I'm willing to wait a long time for that."

The way he said it left no doubt that he was referring to my tits. For a brief second I was kind of disappointed. I'd hoped he would notice how my eyes looked after all the work I'd done on them-that he'd notice my face, not just my body. But then I sighed and realized that it has always been my body that men noticed. Why should it be any different just because this man happened to be black instead of white?

When I got all my clothes on I came back out and asked Joe what he had in mind for the evening. What I meant was a place he wanted to take me but that's not how he answered me.

"Honey, you don't want to hear what I have in mind, do you? Why not feel it instead of listening to me talk about it?"

Without directly answering his loaded question about whether I wanted to 'feel it instead of talk about it,' I said, "Where do you want to do it?"

I didn't say what the "it" was. I just left that up to him to interpret any way he chose. Joe said, "I thought we might just go straight up to my place, honey? I don't know about you, but I'm a pretty informal guy. I don't go out to the clubs very much. I don't think you'll be bored if we go to my place."

He was a man of action. I could tell that right away. He wasn't going to pussy-foot around wanting to get me in bed. That kind of thrilled me, and I felt a shiver of anticipation run down my spine. The way he was acting made me bolder than usual. In my huskiest voice I said, "Joe, we don't even have to go all the way over to your place. I think we can do anything you have in mind right here at my place, without even making trip across town."

He picked right up on that offer. "I'm with you, baby," he said with a smile on his face. I was feeling very coquettish by then. I knew he wanted to see me naked, and to do something good to my pussy. I became so bold that, looking back, I'm amazed at myself.

I stood in front of him and shamelessly allowed him to gaze at my body as though f was on an auction block. And I reveled in the heat of his burning eyes as he stepped closer to me and raised his hand to my shoulder.

"Joe" I asked him "do you know me well enough to answer a very personal question?"

"Shoot, baby," he said.

"Is it true that Negros have ... that their-"

He interrupted me and placed my hand on the front of his pants so that I could feel his pulsing manhood beneath the fabric of his pants.

"Don't be bashful, honey," he said. "If you want to know about my cock, just ask. You heard tales about a black man's cock being bigger than a white man's, right? Well, baby I'm not going to tell you anything about it. I'm going to let you find out for yourself-right now!"

Then he put his fingers on his zipper and forced them to pull it down. I felt my hand on a hard bone of flesh that felt like an end of a skin-covered rhinoceros horn. From that point on we cut out the shit of playing around with words and teasing each other, and got right down to the business of getting inside of each other's clothes. I already had his giant pole in my hand as it stuck out through his fly but he wanted to get at me, too. He didn't ask, he just started doing it. He commanded me, by a firm pressure from his hand on my shoulder, to sit down on the couch. This put his big black cock on the same level as my eyes, and for a brief second I shuddered with a strange combination of revulsion and desire. But then he knelt in front of me and the feeling subsided as his giant cock was moved farther away from my face. "Baby, you got something I'm mighty interested in seeing. If I don't miss my guess them tits of yours are a pair of the biggest, best mother fuckers I ever laid eyes on.

Shit, baby, I gotta get them out here in the light."

Then he reached over and drew me down onto the floor beside him, unbuttoning the first two buttons of my blouse almost in the same motion. I knew that when he saw the naked skin of my big jugs he'd go wild to slap his tool into my pussy, but I had a different idea. I wanted a big hot mouthful of his huge dick.

I lay on my back like a rag doll. I was determined to let him do anything he wanted to my body. He had my blouse off and his black fingers on the white, silky fabric of my brassiere in seconds ...

"Jesus Christ, honey," he leered, "you got to feel my mouth on that fine pair." He turned me over on my stomach and feverishly undid the strap that held my bursting tits in check. Then my bra was lying over in the corner and my titties were bobbing around on my chest.. He pulled me to a sitting position and sucked my nipples like a crazy man, first one then the other. I looked down at his black lips on my pink tipped tits and saw that underneath, in his lap, he had a monster hard-on. I found out right then that it was no bullshit about Negroes having more meat between their legs than white guys do. And I did something about it, too. I grabbed his big cock and began to jerk it up and I down.

But he put his hand on mine and stopped me. "Baby, baby, take it easy on that thing unless you want a face full of come!" he yelled.

He slipped his hands down to my lap as he kept his lips busy on my tits, and I felt my thighs being freed from the hot confines of my skirt and petticoat. He went right on into my panties with his hands and I felt his fingers underneath the elastic band at the top. He pushed me down on my back and slipped my scanty underpants off over the soft part of my upper thighs, then I felt them pass over my knees and I knew it wouldn't be long until I felt the pressure of a nigger dick spreading my pussy lips apart. I kept my eyes closed partly out of habit and partly out of my growing concern to make sure I got what I needed from his fucking. I felt the nakedness of his skin against mine and I knew that he'd taken his shirt off, then I felt his naked knee separating my legs and I knew he had made himself naked all over. He had long since thrown my underclothes, petticoat, panties and all, over onto the couch and I lay under his muscular body without a stitch to cover myself.

He began to make grunting noises deep down in his throat and I knew he was really feeling it. I opened my eyes and saw him sweating above me as he let himself rub all over my front with his stomach and his crotch.

Then I felt the weight of his powerful prick on my stomach. It was so big I first thought that he'd jammed his leg up on me. But it only took a few strokes of the thing across my wet crotch for me to know what it was down there. I looked down at it and, I swear to God, it looked like the head of that thing was the size of my fist. I was afraid he'd split me open like a :ripe tomato if he tried to poke that thing in me all the way.

"Joe, Joe," I cried, "you're ... you're too big for my cunt. Let me stick it in my mouth." But he was too crazy-hot to hear me.

But he just kept moving it around. I'll give him credit where credit's due-he didn't just jam it all the way in without even giving me a chance to prepare for it. But, Diary, his love tool was so giant that it didn't make much difference. He played it around over my pussy lips and tickled my hairs with it for a long time trying to get my pussy to warm up enough to accept it but finally he just began to slowly force it into me. I lay there praying that this would be the kind of thing I needed to make me get my rocks off. It started to hurt and I began to make my hips hunch up and down against it in spite of the increasing pain in the hopes of starting the ball rolling toward that wonderful feeling. At last I felt the head of it pop into me like a plunger and I knew what it felt like to have my cave full of black meat.

After that I didn't have much control. I felt him start a slow, almost circular motion that seemed sure to split me open at the top and bottom of my tender pussy. I tried to move with him, but he soon began driving with such force that I felt like I was being raped. He was fucking my cunt like he owned it and grinding his entire body into the top of mine with the power of an army tank. He jammed his burning rod in and out of my smarting cunt then, abandoning the smooth, circular motion and letting himself go with no thought of anything but his own satisfaction. When he finally started making a moan that grew louder and higher as he pumped faster and harder into my pussy t knew it couldn't be long. Then I heard him getting there. "Lay it on me sweet baby, whip that white cunt on me ... oooooh shit, ooaaaaahhhhh!"

That's when I jerked away from him, turned myself around on the bed and sucked his big black cock into my hot mouth. I knew he was just short of coming, so I didn't have to hold back my own reactions. I had my mouth so full of his prick that I felt a hot whirlwind inside my wet cunt and as he shot his white come into my mouth I was getting my cookies right along with him. We both screamed and then fell back in satiated exhaustion.'

Then he collapsed his hulking body on me like a falling barn and I damned near had the wind knocked out of me. He rolled off me then and dragged me over on my side as he did so. The movement put my head on his stomach and I found myself staring right at his wilted cock. My eyes were only a few inches from it, and it was still plenty big even in its withered state.

I felt all over myself to make sure I was still in one piece. I thought that he must have knocked the wind out of me with all his thrashing around.

After he got his clothes on, he got a big drink of water from my refrigerator and before he went out the door he said, "Thanks for the action, pussycat. When you need a big dick in you again get in touch with me. And thanks for the blow job, too.

See you around."

I thought that was damned ungrateful of him, not to mention being unromantic as hell. But then, his actions weren't much different from what I'd more or jess gotten used to from men. It seems like they're all the same, black or white. Well, it's true that this Negro had a giant cock on him and as it turned out, he was pretty damned good.

The hell of it is that I just know he'll call me back again whenever he gets horny. But I don't want it like that. I want to feel like something besides a pair of tits connected to a hairy cunt separated by a warm stomach. So I won't let him have any more. If he calls I'm just going to be very indifferent. A new thrill is what-I'm after. I've already experienced all he had to offer.

And there's one small thing that's good. At least I did what I set out to do. I wanted to see if I could come with a Negro cock and was it any better a mouthful than a white one and I found out. Even if the answer was "No," I can at least say I tried it. And I can rule out one more scene in my attempt to achieve bigger and better orgasms. Experience is the best teacher, they say. And that's true even if it teaches you something you didn't want to know.

Good night, Diary.

Dear Diary,

I haven't written to you for two or three days because I've been so busy at the office.

Tonight when I got home there was a special delivery letter waiting for me from my mother. I was going to go back for a vacation in three weeks, but Mom asked in the letter if it would be possible for me to get my vacation moved up to now. A terrible thing has happened. Curt, my old boyfriend, has been killed in a car wreck and she wants to know if I can be there at the funeral. She thought I'd want to know about it and I appreciate her mentioning it.

Tomorrow I'm asking my boss if I can start my vacation immediately and I think I have a good chance of getting it. When I come home from work tomorrow I'll know. Bye for now.

Dear Diary,

The boss is letting me go. I'm going to pack tonight and leave on the 10:30 Denver flight, then transfer to another flight for Des Moines. From there I'll have to take a bus.

I hate to take a plane because it's so expensive. I can't really afford it but it's the least I can do, I figure, in memory of Curt. I thought an awfully lot of him, in spite of the way I felt toward him the time I let him go all the way. I'll write all about my trip and when I get back. I guess there won't be much to tell, since I'm going there now just because of Curt's funeral, but I'll report whatever happens. Bye for now. See you in a couple of weeks.

Dear Diary,

Where do I start? So much happened to me while I was gone that it seems like it'll take me days to tell everything. I'll tell you right away that I had the wildest sex scene I've ever had in my life. Yes, even wilder than when I was in the park with the guy in the gray coat. I felt like I must be going crazy to have done what I did. And my mom and dad were mortified, not to say anything about what other people who found out about it thought.

But before all that even happened I had a rather unnerving experience on the plane. It was okay from here to Denver. Very uneventful. But from Denver to Des Moines it was a different story.

A guy sat down by me and tried to strike up a conversation. He was all right but I really I didn't feel like being very sociable because of t the funeral coming up and everything. He was thirty or so, and good-looking enough, but I just wasn't in the mood.

He introduced himself and then proceeded to give me all kinds of compliments. He kept trying to get me to open up and talk to him saying things about the way I looked. "Have you ever been on TV?" he asked me. "You sure do look familiar."

And "If you haven't been on TV, you should be. I guess you know you're an awfully attractive girl, don't you?" Stuff like that was what he kept saying.

Finally he quit bothering me and I went to sleep. About thirty minutes later I felt something touching me and I started waking up a little but I was still kind of groggy. This guy was taking advantage of me while I slept, but I was too far asleep to understand exactly what he was doing. Then I felt a hand on my blouse and I realized that this creep was working his hand around on my tit, copping a feel through my clothes. That really made me mad. I woke up and, lo and behold, this buy had his cock out in his hand and was playing with himself while his other hand was caressing my boob. I sat up straight and started to bawl him out good. When he saw that I had noticed what he had been doing, he increased the speed of his hand on his cock, got this real glassy-eyed look, and shot white come all over the back of the seat in front of him. Even though it was dark, one of the stewardesses happened to see him-she had probably heard him breathing hard like he was doing while he was playing with my boob-and she ran over and spoke sharply to him, then went up front and told the captain. When we landed a policeman was waiting for him and they asked me if I wanted to file a complaint. I would have done it but I realized I'd probably have to appear in court sometime and I knew I couldn't come back to Iowa just for that, so I told them that I didn't want to file a complaint, that I'd just let it go. But before I left them I gave the guy a dirty look that I hope showed him what a low down creep I thought he was for doing that to me while I was asleep.

When I arrived home I talked to Mom and Dad for a few minutes, then went to sleep. The next morning they took me to the funeral home where Curt's body was being held and I went in alone to view him.

Mom and Dad said they'd come back and pick me up on their way back from the store. The funeral wasn't going to be until the next day. When I first entered the building I was shown into the mortuary by an assistant of the funeral director. He pointed down to the room where Curt's body was lying and told me that I could "observe the deceased." for as long as I wanted. He was real nice. On the way down the hall by myself I passed by another hall that branched off. I looked down it and happened to see an attendant pushing a metal table with a corpse on it. But it wasn't; like I would have expected it to be. This corpse didn't have any sheet over it or anything. And it was the corpse of a girl about my age, a girl who was very goodlooking. I remember thinking if I died some stranger would get to look at me like that attendant was looking at that girl's body. And he sure was looking at her, too! He wasn't missing a thing. He was looking at the girl's body like he wanted to be on top of her doing it to her. I couldn't help wondering what he might do to her body once he wheeled it into a room where nobody could see him. The thought of him looking at her like he had made chills run down, my spine.

Then I came to the room where they said Curt's body was. When I walked through that door, Diary, it was very eerie. Curt looked just like he was alive. They had him all fixed up so that he looked like he was just sleeping. He was wearing a blue suit and tie, and white shirt, and his hair was combed just like he always did it in real life. It seemed like he might just open his eyes at any moment and start talking to me. I walked right up to him and looked down into the casket at him. It was on a raised pedestal, so he was only slightly higher than if he, had been lying on a bed. Bed. The word stopped me cold. I started remembering how Curt liked my body when I'd known him in high school, and how much he would have liked to get me in bed. True, I'd let him do it to me that day on the ground, but I knew he would have liked it better if we could have been in bed. Back then, I reflected, I was more or less in love with him. He was so popular in school and everything. Any girl would have been proud to marry him, and I had been no exception. That made me kind of start to consider how it might have been if I'd responded differently to Curt's lovemaking that time when, I let him get into my pants.

I looked down at him and couldn't resist reaching to touch his hair. To my surprise it felt not much different than it had when he was alive. Or maybe it was just my imagination working over time. I was quite sure which it was. But it was when I touched his hair that I began to get this wild idea. I kept thinking about how much he liked seeing my naked body. The thought of him never getting to see another girl naked was very sad.

I decided I was going to honor his death in a very personal-if strange-way. I decided I was going to remove every stitch of clothing I had on. It would be like pretending that he could see me that way and enjoyed the way I looked.

I glanced behind me to make sure I was still alone. The door was still securely closed and I heard no noises outside. I stepped back and kicked my shoes off. I unzipped my skirt and stepped out of it, tossing it on the floor in a heap. Next came my blouse. That left me standing next to his body wearing nothing but my panties, a garter belt, hose and my brassiere. I sat down on the floor and raised my leg into the air so I could remove my hose after unsnapping them one by one from my frilly garter belt. Then I drew each stocking off slowly and deliberately, just as though I was putting on a strip show for curt.

Then I just sat there on the floor in my skimpy panties and brassiere looking up at the coffin. I could see Curt's outline from where I sat-his hair, the lines of his nose and chin, ad the contours of the front of his body down to his shoes. I stretched my legs out in front of me and thought how much he would be turned on if only he could be watching me display myself before him. "If he were alive right now and looking at me do this in front of him, I'll bet he would have a hard-on by now," I thought to myself.

The thought of him lying there with a hard-on made me get a nice warm feeling between my legs just like I had gotten when he had played with my pussy back in school. I put my hand down between my legs and felt an involuntary quiver run through my body. I was beginning to become stimulated. First I only had my hand on my panties, right in the crotch where the mound of my pussy makes the material rise up between my legs. But then I slipped my hand inside them and began to feel around inside my pussy lips. When my fingertips came in contact with the soft skin on the interior of my pussy I found out that I was wet down there.

I began to massage myself there while looking up at Curt inside the coffin and imagine how he would react if he could see. The thought of that made me even hotter, so I put my other hand down and started skinning my panties down over my thighs. Then I got up on my knees and let them fall all the way down to the floor, feeling their silky smoothness caress my thighs as they slipped down. I kept my hand busy between my legs as I slowly continued to rub myself there, but I also reached up and turned my brassiere around so the hook would be in front and unhooked it. It fell onto the floor near where my skirt and blouse were.

I got up on my feet then and walked toward the coffin, allowing my panties to drop to my ankles and off onto the cold stone floor of the mortuary room. By this time, Diary, I was really getting caught up in what I was doing. I was just letting my thoughts be acted out without stopping to think what I was doing. I was doing just whatever I felt like doing.

By the time I reached the coffin I was stark naked. I saw my reflection in the highly polished floor and noted that I had an expression on my face that looked like I was in a dream, or walking in my sleep. But that's not all I noticed. I also noticed the part of me that all the guys always noticed-my big breasts and my long, curvy legs. My tits stuck out big and full and when I touched them to the side of the casket I didn't even notice the coldness of the thing. All that made any difference-to me was that I was standing right next to Curt, my old love. I had kept my hand in my pussy all the time I had been walking and the motion of my legs moving back and forth had brought me to a somewhat higher plateau of excitement. Standing right up next to his coffin, I continued to play with myself. I even leaned over farther so my tits actually came into contact with the lifeless arm of Curt's corpse. I guess I must have been beginning to go off my rocker then because I didn't get the slightest bit of a cold feeling from his dead body. It even seemed to be a little warm, just as though he weren't dead at all. I know that sounds silly to say, Diary, and it seems silly to me too now that I'm back here in my apartment thinking and writing about it, but it didn't seem to be at all out of the ordinary at the time.

With my big soft tits spilling over the edge of the coffin and touching the arm of Curt's dead body, I stood there for what seemed like a long time looking at him and playing with myself. I laid my left arm across his chest and left my right arm hanging down in front of me. My right hand was still toying with my pussy. I had my arm directly between the coffin and my own body so that the weight pressing against my pussy was warm and exciting to me.

As I looked Curt in the face I turned over in my mind what we had been to each other at one time, how he had become so aroused at the sight of my naked body when I

lay that day before him on the ground. I thought of his hands touching me and how his hard chest had felt when he pressed himself against the smooth softness of my tits and my stomach. Then I thought of how his cock was the first one I had ever sucked.

And then, somewhere between the past and the present, I saw myself performing the same exciting act. In my mind's eye I envisioned my head between his legs. My hand moved deeper and faster on my pussy and I felt the flow of my love juice cascade from my tender reddened pussy lips through the curled and tangled ringlets of hair that surrounds my secret little slit.

Then, with my hands and pussy all but forgotten, with my whole being caught up in the forbidden thrill of the lewd act I was about to carry out on the dead body of the boy who had once fucked me and needed my mouth on him, I stretched my arms across the side of the casket and yanked his belt open. My heart was beating a mile a minute. I wantonly thrust my hands into the fly of his pants and grasped his cold, flaccid cock. My breath was coming in gasps. I was losing all control. My pussy burned hot against the side of the casket. My forehead was covered with sweat. My eyes blurred out of focus and my heart lurched inside my chest as I fell against his body and covered his cold dead prick with the hot wetness of my mouth. I was lying fully on top of him with my pussy grinding into his lifeless face and my tongue furiously licking his cock. I was famished for love and starved for the feel of a man's cock in my mouth ... I was beside myself with a crazed desire to suck the shit out of his prick until I had enclosed the whole thing within the confines of my licking lips.

Ripping his cock farther out of his pants like a mad woman, I stuffed his limp cock into my mouth and moaned like a banshee as I rocked my pussy against his face.

Faster and faster I sucked his cock, harder and harder I thrust my busting pussy against his cold face ... hotter and hotter boiled a raging flame in my blood. I shouted at the top of my lungs, "On ... oh God ... I'm ... I'm gettin' it' ... I'm come ... come ...

COMING. Aiiiiieeeeee!n

The aftermath was too much for my poor, sex-crazed, brain to contend with. My cries brought a man to the door who looked in and gaped in astonishment. Then came the sound of his feet running down the long hall ... the door bursting open ... more men ... the room suddenly full of people ... the walls whirling as hands grabbed me, lifted me off the corpse and constrained my churning arms and legs ... the sight of my clothes lying on the floor ... the utter mess of the clothes of the corpse ... I was lifted, screaming, onto a white cot. The last thing I remember about that horrible afternoon was the sharp jab of a needle in my shoulder, then peace ... a dark, heavy sleep.

Blackness.

For the next week I was kept in bed in a hospital. My parents came to see me but were very embarrassed and distant. I don't know what I said to them. I was kept under heavy sedation. At the end of the first week I got a break. A doctor said my actions had been' caused by the strain of circumstances. He explained that the death of my close friend, together with the physical stress of my long trip, had temporarily deranged me. He made it sound much less serious than most people thought. The emotional strain of all this had rendered me irresponsible for my actions, he said. If it hadn't been for him I'd undoubtedly still be there in the hospital in Valley Springs, Iowa. Or worse still, in a psycho ward at the Iowa state sanitarium. I was really very fortunate.

As to the effect all this had on my parents, I don't like to even think about it. They didn't want me to leave, begged me to stay there, to be where they could look after me. But I succeeded in leaving town. All the shame is behind me now. Of course, I could never" set foot in that town again in my life, but outside of that, I'm pretty well over the terror of it all.

If there was ever any doubt about it before, it should be plenty clear now-the only way I can have an orgasm is by having a man's prick in my mouth."

It's true. That's the way things are with me. The Negro, the young kid, taking on two guys at once. All that was just another warm body for me to work on with my mouth. I'm a girl who has to have a cock in my mouth. Unless I can get my lips around a hard, hot prick I'm no good in bed for myself or anyone else. Unless I'm sucking the love juice from some big cock, I'm not worth a damn. I'm not a woman at all, I'm just a big open mouth. It's the only way I can express my love.

SUMMARY

I felt that Gwenn's case might well be one the resolution of which could provide important insights into other cases. As such, I was able to have my psychologist friend interview Miss Henderson without accepting a fee. The meeting was arranged and he was able to speak at great length with her. During a series of interview and consultations with her, he was able not only to verify the validity of the actions which she had previously told me, but was presented with her diary as well. She indicated to him that she was willing to have me publish the diary in order to ease the minds of girls who may be suffering the same emotional problems as herself. Although Gwenn's desire for the feeling of a male penis in her mouth may be somewhat stronger than usual, the act itself is not, of course, so unique. It is, after all, only a variation from the "standard" position usually assumed by human beings during the act of love. And that position is far from universal.

According to Maxine Davis, in her book, The Sexual Responsibility of Women, other cultures have decidedly different ideas about what IS "standard."

She writes, "The most usual position in this country and in England is the man above and the woman beneath ... " The author then adds that, "Many people have the impression that any other is abnormal if not an actual perversion. Nobody is certain just where that idea came from but it has been widespread for centuries." Contrasting this view with that of another culture, the author points out, "Some primitive people in the Southwest Pacific islands even think (the "standard" position) is comical and call it the "missionary position."

In a 1962 article in Sexology Magazine entitled "What is 'Normal' Sex Behavior?" Albert Ellis writes, "Normal sex behavior, from whatever point one views it, amounts, in the last analysis, to socially approved sex behavior. For any group to state, therefore, that certain sex acts are 'abnormal,' 'immature,' or 'immoral,' or 'biologically unsound,' is for this group to make this act what it has been declared to be for most of the individuals living within the group who (consciously or unconsciously) are influenced by its statements." .

Unfortunately for Gwenn, her mother obviously regarded the act of fellatio with such an attitude. And this feeling resulted in Gwenn's unusually strong desire for the act. On one level, of course, we may view Gwenn as simply an extremely promiscuous young woman. But to dismiss her problem that perfunctorily would be an injustice not only to her, but to the precepts of psychiatry as well. We should not be concerned so much with labeling a person's psychological malady as with investigating the relevant underlying causes of it, and, hopefully, with correcting or curing it. Unfortunately, it proved impossible to actually cure Gwenn, for she suffered from a self-perpetuating, traumatically induced erotic compulsion. She did not really desire to behave differently, in other words;

She was at least able to consciously understand the motivation behind her sexual excesses and this in itself was some comfort to her. Today she is as happy and productive as possible, under the circumstances, and she lives a relatively normal life in spite of her depraved erotic acts.

Although she allowed herself to be involved in many different kinds of sexual relationships with many partners, sometimes even enjoying coitus to some extent, the ultimate experience of a better and grander orgasm dangled in front of her like a carrot on a string-always desired but never attainable.

Chapter III

Dear Diary,

The guy I have a date with is a swell looking guy who works in the loan department.

His name is Larry and he's tall and dark, with the greatest eyes you've ever seen. When I told Lena and Sue about him they said he's nothing but a big wolf, but I think they're just jealous. I have to take some clothes to the cleaners. 'Bye for now.

Dear Diary,

It's Thursday night. I can't wait 'till Saturday. Larry is taking me to dinner at some expensive restaurant. I saw him for a few minutes today and he was real nice to me.

He couldn't keep his eyes off my body, even at the office. Well, it's guys like him who are welcome to look. Dear Diary,

It's Friday night. Larry just called to say there'd been a change in plans. What he has in mind now should be even more fun than the restaurant, though, so it's fine with me. He told me that he's a gourmet cook-isn't that exciting?-and that he wants to prepare dinner for us in his apartment.

He has the deepest, most masculine voice I've ever heard. And I've found out around the office that he's dated a lot of girls from there. It's really a compliment that he wants to date me after having so many other girls to choose from. I can't wait until tomorrow night rolls around. I don't know if he has any ideas about getting me in bed or not, but he's so good-looking that I just-might let him if he's nice. Maybe he'll be a guy with the kind of cock I like.

I started taking birth control pills a month ago so I won't have-to worry about that anymore. How I got through high school without getting myself pregnant is more than I know. For a long time I was so uninformed that I thought a girl couldn't have a baby unless she had a climax when she was fucking, but then I found out that was just a lot of bull crap.

But don't get me wrong, Diary. I'm not going to be easy for him, even if he does come on strong. If I like him I just might keep him interested with going all the way for a while. I think my body is exciting enough to do the trick.

And don't think I'm just a big braggart. I looked myself over carefully in the mirror last night after taking a bath and I know why all the guy's eyes follow me around the bank all the time. They just can't wait to watch me bend over so they can try to get a peek down into my blouse. Maybe I don't have the most beautiful face in the world but I more than make up for it my body. When I was looking at myself in the mirror I

thought about how all the guys whose eyes are on me all day to see as much of me as I saw in the mirror. My tits are finer and firmer than they ever were, and my legs look better in stockings than any other girl's in the office.

Wish me luck. Tomorrow's the night.

Dear Diary,

It's Sunday morning but I've got to tell you about my date with Larry. I'm reading the Sunday funnies and sitting here in my bra and panties right now. Last night, though, I got down to less clothes than that at Larry's place. Let me tell you all the details and you'll know how hard it is to be a young girl in San Francisco ... especially a young girl who happens to have measurements on the order of mine, 39-24-37.

When Larry picked me up I was in real good spirits. And the way he looked me over made me know he was well pleased with what I was wearing. He looked just as good to me as I'm sure I did to him, too. He was wearing a European cut jacket with a great looking white turtleneck sweater.

I had on a light blue knit mini-dress that molded itself perfectly to my figure. And it was a little shorter than the ones I wear to the bank. Larry could see about five inches above my knees-but remember, I am a pretty tall girl so it wasn't an indecent length like some of the girls wear. Of course, when I knelt down or raised my leg to take a high step up stairs or onto a curb I guess Larry could see a little more. In the car, Diary, it was so funny. It seemed like he couldn't decide where he wanted to keep his eyes-on the road, on my legs, or on my chest. Well, I called it my "chest" where he was looking, but I'm sure that he thought of two big tits instead of a chest. In addition to being shorter than usual, my dress was also pretty low cut. And in a

knit dress that's low cut, you can see what a girl's hiding in her brassiere awfully well. My dress had a V-shaped collar that dipped down far enough to let plenty of cleavage show. It was more than just cleavage, really. The way my tits swelled up out .of the open space in my dress gave a good view of plenty of flesh, not just the usual separation of tits like plenty of girls have to be satisfied with. And the way Larry was looking at me, I knew he wasn't missing one little bit of what I had to offer. On the way to his place we stopped by one of his friend's house to drop off a pair of skis. Larry was loaning them to his friend for the weekend. The thought of Larry flashing down some white, snow-covered hill on a pair of skis was a picture that fitted him very well because he had an athletic build. He was that kind of a guy-he looked like' the kind of fellow you see sailing or horseback riding.

When we were giving his friend the skis Larry insisted that I come in. That kind of pleased me because I got the definite impression that he was showing me off. Larry introduced me briefly and I could see that his friend was looking me over as much as he had. Their interest moved me to display myself a little more. I sat down on the couch and automatically put my hand on the hem of my skirt to adjust it but it was shorter than usual and I wound up just touching my leg at first. I had to look down and consciously tug on it. Larry's friend was able to see quite a ways up my dress, I think, before I finally got myself covered properly.

Larry saw what I was doing and said jokingly, "Hey, Gwenn, we're among friends.

Give him a break, will you? Don't cover yourself up so much."

I just smiled and looked down into my lap. I knew I looked good to them but I didn't know how to joke like they were doing. Then they went into the kitchen for a moment before we left, and I heard them talking in low voices. Then Larry's friend laughed and slapped Larry 'on the back good-naturedly. I couldn't be sure what they were talking about but I had a pretty good idea it was me.

Back in the car Larry opened the door for me and made no bones about the fact that he was watching my legs as I lifted them into the car. I just smiled to myself and looked straight ahead through the windshield.

When we got to his place he immediately fixed me a drink and turned on his stereo. Then he invited me to just lie back on his couch while he worked in the kitchen, which was right next to his living room. I told him that I didn't drink much and wasn't sure if I'd like to. I drank a little beer in high school, but I had to sneak to do it so I'd never drank much. If my parents had known that I'd ever put alcohol to my lips they would have had a heart attack.

When Larry found out that I was a little queasy about drinking, he was real nice about it. He said, "Well, worry no more. I've got just the thing for you."

Then he explained that drinking should be fun, He said that some girls tried to drink bourbon or scotch, couldn't stand the taste, and never tried anything else. He promised to concoct a drink that he guaranteed I'd like. Pretty soon he came in and put a tall glass in my hand that had a lemon sticking on the rim and a cherry floating on top. It was very cold, and had crushed ice.

"Try this," he beckoned me.

It tasted much better than I'd expected. Sort of a fruity taste. But there was enough strength to it that it was easy to tell it wasn't just soda pop. It was sort of a red color with a darker cast to the bottom of it.

"What is this, Larry?" I asked.

"It's called a 'bora-bora,'" he answered. "You see, I sort of have two hobbies. One is drinking and cooking, and the other is photography. The drink I made you is one like they serve in Polynesian restaurants. I put simple syrup in it to make it sweet." Then he leaned over put his hand on my shoulder. My breast was only inches away and he let his hand slide toward it as he said, "I thought the least I could do for a sweet girl is make her a sweet drink that she'd enjoy."

His attention was flattering. He was much more of a sweet-talker than the guys in high school. They had all wanted to either play with you or leave you alone entirely.

But Larry seemed genuinely interested in my comfort and this pleased me.

"Oh, thank you," I said, beginning to relax in his warm and comfortable presence. As he puttered around in the kitchen I continued to drink. Before long I began to feel the effect of the alcohol. A warm, pleasant feeling began to flow through my body.

Larry came over and took my glass even before I was quite through with it. "Since we're going to have dinner soon," he said, "why don't you have another drink now? The food will take away some of the 'high,' you know, if you don't keep ahead of it."

I offered my glass. "Okay," I answered, "if you'll make me another drink that tastes just like that, I'd like another one right now before we eat."

Larry was pleased. He came back in seconds with a new drink of the strange, sweet stuff he called bora-bora. By the time we ate the excellent meat he prepared, I expected to be out from under the influence of the drink. But I was surprised to find that I could still feel its effect. I guess it was because I wasn't used to drinking much, combined with the fact that I could drink more of the bora-bora because of its pleasant taste.

Larry seemed like someone I could talk to, someone who was interested in more than just my body. I was warming up to him by this time quite a bit. I wanted to know more about him, to find out the things he liked and enjoyed doing.

"You said one of your hobbies was photography. Is that photo over there one that you took?" I asked, pointing to a large, framed black and white picture of the Golden Gate Bridge that hung in the center of the wan.

"Yes, it is," he answered, "now let me show you some more that I've taken." He went into a smaller room and came back with two albums. On the way back he fixed us both another drink.

"This one is of various sites around the city," he indicated, "and this one is of different girls. Someday I'd like to make my mark as a fashion photographer." I glanced through the first album and began to look through the second one with great interest. His pictures were lovely. AU the girls were very attractive and it appeared that he had photographed them all in a way that pointed up their best features. I began to wonder what pictures of me would look like. I was thinking that maybe I could get some pictures that showed more of my figure than of my face. Larry anticipated my question. "How would you like to have some pictures of yourself?"

"Oh, could you?" I asked. I was excited at the prospect of seeing photographs of myself that might be as glossy and attractive as the ones in his albums. "Why not?" he answered, "I've got all the equipment right here in the next room." On the way into the room he made us both another drink. I. was definitely feeling my drinks by this time, but I didn't care a bit, Diary. I was having a good time and I wanted to forget about my troubles and enjoy myself.

The room where he kept his photographic equipment turned out to be his bedroom. Maybe if I hadn't been drinking I would have wanted to avoid this particular room, but the way I was feeling made everything different.

"I'm glad you're interested in doing this, Gwenn," Larry said as he set up his equipment. "I guess you know what an attractive figure you have, don't you? I was going to ask you eventually if you would let me take a few shots of you anyway. It's great that you're interested in doing it."

I was shy at his flattering me so. I said, "Oh, gee well thank you for the compliment. I've always been told that I have a pretty nice shape but I've never had a photographer tell me that."

Larry turned to me and put his hand on my shoulder. "Believe me Gwen, you have much more than just a 'pretty' figure. You have one hell of a fine shape." As he spoke to me he let his hand slide down off my shoulder and onto my back, where it continued to touch me gently all the way down to my buttocks. He was being so gentle in the way that he acted and spoke that I began to think sexy thoughts. I started to wonder if maybe he might be able to arouse me so that I could come. Then I suddenly realized with shame what I was letting my mind dwell on and I quickly shook off the thoughts and bit my lip in chastisement at such ideas. "First of all, sit right over there on that chair," he said, as he stepped away from me and set his camera up on a metal, three-legged thing.

I sat down in the chair and he snapped four or five quick shots of me.

"Now go over and sit on the bed," he instructed.

I got up from the chair and almost stumbled as I made my way over to the bed. The bora-bora had made me pretty woozy. I sat down on the bed and waited fur him to tell me what position to take. I was feeling so relaxed that my clothing was beginning to feel binding. I wished that I had been somewhere where I could have taken it off and just laid back on the bed but of course I could never do such a thing in the presence of a man.

I looked up and was surprised to find that Larry had left the room, but he soon returned with two glasses in his hand.

"I made us some bora-bora since you like them so well," he said to me as he handed me one ...

"Oh, Larry, I don't know if I ought-"

He interrupted me before I even finished talking and said, "Nonsense, Gwenn. Let yourself go. I know you like this stuff. Now go ahead and enjoy yourself."

I took the drink and smiled feebly as I put it to my lips. The stuff really did taste good, Diary, or I wouldn't have kept on drinking it. I wasn't just drinking the bora-boras to make myself get drunk! Deep down I guess I knew that I shouldn't be allowing myself to drink so much, especially since I had constricted in my clothes, but I kept tossing the stuff down all the same.

"Let's try a shot of you lying down, now," suggested Larry as he shifted his camera around.

"Oh, little 'cheesecake,' huh?" I said.

I must have really been loaded to say that to him, Diary, but I definitely remember saying it.

"No, no-what I'm going to take of you isn't cheesecake, baby," said Larry, getting more familiar: "If you want to see some cheesecake, just take a gander at these." And he tossed a pile of black and white photos onto the bed beside me.

"Look at those while I get some shots of you, if you want to. You might find that some of them are a little 'raw,' but we're both adults, right?" he said with a little laugh that made me think maybe he wasn't quite the nice, clean-cut fellow that I had taken him to be all evening up 'til that time.

"Now, turn over on your left side," he told me, "and turn your head facing me. That's

the way. Now stretch your right leg farther toward the edge of the bed." I did as he asked.

"No farther," he said, "stretch your leg farther toward the edge so it'll make a more graceful geometric line."

I raised my head a little and looked down so that I could see my leg. It seemed to me that if I did as he asked I would be putting myself where he could look right up my dress. Since I was wearing a mini-dress, I also had on pantyhose, but I still didn't want Larry to be able to see all the way up to where the darker panty top covered my pussy.

When I told him the picture would look bad if I did as he asked he said, "No, listen, Gwenn. The female form is a beautiful thing. Just because I can see up underneath your dress for a: little way doesn't ruin the picture. In fact, it will make it better, if you think you're showing me a lot, take a look at some of the pictures I just gave you to look at."

I said, "Well, okay. If you're sure I'll look okay with my legs like this."

Then I began to look at the pictures. Diary, I was amazed at what these pictures showed! They were almost an of girls without their clothes on, A few of them showed girls with panties and brassieres on, but some of them showed girls with not a stitch on.

"Larry," I yelled, "these girls are ... are naked. Did you take these pictures? What kind of girls would let you take these kind of pictures of them."

Larry just went right on snapping pictures of me as he answered, "Just girls who are proud of the way they look Gwenn, that's all. Some are girls I've known but most are models who want to build up a portfolio, or the girlfriends of guys who are friends of mine and know that I can take good pictures. Surely the fact that some of them don't have any clothes on doesn't disturb a girl with your intelligence, does it?" I guess his subtle flattery may have swayed me a little. I wasn't sure now to react. "Oh ... well, I guess not," I answered. "If that's the way it is. I just ... uh ... never saw pictures like this before."

I looked back at the pile of snapshots.

"You ... you can even see their ... the hair between their legs," I said, not wanting to say 'pussies.' "Gee, I can see everything these girls have got."

Larry suddenly came over to where I was lying and started talking excitedly.

"Yes and I want you to notice one thing about, these pictures, Gwenn, every one of them," he said. "Not one of those girls is nearly as good looking as you are. Do you realize that? Look at them. You're better looking than any of them," he said. I was kind of blushing by the time he finished, in spite of the fact that I was getting so drunk. I know because my face felt so hot and dry.

"Oh, no, Larry," I giggled, "lots of these girls are prettier than I am. Look at how pretty this girl here is," I said, pointing to one of the pictures.

Larry looked at the picture I held in my hand and said, "No, there's one important difference between this picture and you. All this one shows is the girl's face-but your body is much more attractive than this girl's was. That's why I took a close-up of only her face instead of her entire body."

I looked at the picture. True, it was just a close-up of the girl's face. I shuflled through the pile of pictures as Larry sat beside me on the bed. Finally I came to one that showed a blonde girl who had a pretty nice figure. I hated to use this one because the girl in the picture was entirely nude, but I wanted to find one that I could show Larry as an example of a good body.

"How about her," I pointed. "She has a ... uh ... nice figure."

"That girl doesn't even begin to have the breast development that you have, Gwenn. Can't you see that?" he said. Then he added, "I haven't seen you without, your clothes on, of course, but I can tell just from what I can see bursting through your blouse that you must have a fabulous pair. Admit it, now, Gwenn. Your breasts and legs are much more attractive than this girl's are."

Then Larry put his hand gingerly on my leg and began to slowly trace his finger from my ankle up toward my thigh as he spoke.

"See how your ankle is so slim here, and how the curve of your calf arches up to your knee in a perfect configuration?"

He was speaking so objectively, so clinically, that I looked down to where his hand was and listened to him as though he were some teacher and I was a student. "And see how your leg continues on up from your knee in such a slim, trim way. Lots of girls have thighs that get very much thicker than they should starting right about here," he said, touching my leg well above my knee. Only the heel of his hand was visible. 'His fingers were out of sight under the hem of my dress.

I was feeling so relaxed and carefree from the bora-bora that I didn't do a thing but look at him and nod.

"Oh," I said, unsteadily, "really? Are most girls' legs fatter there?"

"Much fatter," he answered, beginning to stroke my thighs way up under my dress.

He was touching me high up on the outside of my leg just below my hip bone. I knew I shouldn't be letting him do it, but it was beginning to feel good to me and deep down in my drunken mind I .thought, "May I can do it with him. Maybe I can get the kind of wild new thrill I'm in need of. If I suck his cock for him."

Then I felt his fingers steatlthily creep around to the inner side of my leg. It was right near the crotch of my pantyhose and if I'd been wearing regular panties instead of panty hose he could have just slipped his finger under the elastic and I would have felt it playing in my hairs. As it was, he could only rub me across the tight material that covered my pussy and let me feel the pressure of his finger in the tight crack. And that's just what he did. Soon I was feeling a good solid warmth an around between my legs.

"Oh my God," I thought to myself. "If this keeps up I'm finally going to wind up getting myself screwed. And I'd much rather have his prick in my mouth than between my legs."

By this time Larry wasn't bothering to talk anymore, he was just giving my pussy the old once over through the thin, mesh material of pantyhose. It felt so good I didn't try to stop him at all. In fact, I began sliding up and down slowly on the bed in rhythm to the movements of his skillful fingers. When he felt me doing this he rolled over on his stomach and I heard his shoes hit the floor. I couldn't help what I did next, Diary. I was getting such a good feeling from his fingers that I let my legs out real wide apart so he could play with me better. When I did that he knew I was going to let him do more with me, and I guess he was hoping it would be a lot more. I wasn't consciously thinking at the time how far I would let him go, but I wasn't considering stopping him at any certain point, either. I just wanted to lie there and enjoy it as long as it kept feeling as good as it was.

I even stretched my foot down and pushed off my shoes, just as he had done. When Larry heard them hit the floor, he hunched up closer to me and reached his hand way up to where the top of my pantyhose were. He wriggled his finger underneath and started slipping them down. 'The Elastic made them tight on me but he managed to get them pulled down below the part of my body he was most interested in and it didn't take him long to do it. Then he placed his finger right at the top of my crack and started fooling around with the little nubbin at the top. I was fifteen before I found out that was called the "clit," Diary, but it wouldn't have mattered whether I knew the name or not. When Larry touched me there I felt myself getting hotter between the legs than I could even remember for a long time. I guess it was because he was so soft and gentle about it.

Then I felt a hand go to work on my tits. First he just rubbed his hand all over the front of my dress and played with them a little bit by pinching them lightly through the material. Before long I felt the buttons of my dress being undone and I knew I was about to feel his fingers on my bare flesh. When he'd made me naked above the waist by completely opening my dress and letting it down to my waist, I thought, "Oh well, why not?" and I raised myself up off the bed and slipped my dress off over my head. That left me lying on my back below Larry with nothing on but my black net brassiere and my sheer black pantyhose, which were already down around my knees.

For a minute he raised up higher so he could get rid of his own clothes. Then I felt the touch of his nakedness on my stomach and legs. It was then that he started talking again.

"Oh, baby, I can't wait to see those giant tits of yours," he breathed. "I've got to get my hands on those big knobs before I go out of my mind,"

I would rather he have kissed me some but he seemed so intent on having my tits uncovered that I let him have his way. He reached behind me and tugged feverishly for a few minutes. Once I heard him mutter under his breath, "How the hell does this damned catch work, anyway," but he soon discovered the answer and as a result I found myself staring up at him as he took in the sight of my whole body naked before him. The only thing left was my pantyhose hanging down from my knees. I reached down with my hands and tossed them off myself.

When he saw me do that he started talking like a mad man. If I'd been sober I might even have been afraid of him, I think.

"What a hell of a body you've got on you, honey. I'll bet you need fucking bad, don't you? How do you keep from thinking about anything besides screwing with a shape like that. Jesus Christ! I need a mouthful of something before I slip you the rail." Then he darted his head down and filled his mouth with titty. He sucked on it and then started licking me all up and down my stomach. His tongue even touched my navel. But he was back up my front with his tongue on my other tit just a few seconds later. He sucked my nipples and licked me so much that it was like getting a bath. My body began to feel very turgid and heated. I put my arms around his neck and pulled him closer to me. I could feel him all the way from his head to his feet. He was rubbing my legs in long, slow strokes with his feet while be continued to slurp noisily on my tit.

"What a set of knockers you've got on you, baby. Tits this size should be illegal!" he gasped between slurps.

By this time I was beginning to feel better than I ever had in a long time. Because be had taken his time with me and only gradually worked on my naked body, I was starting to feel a hot wetness between my legs that I hoped to God was the beginning of my first climax. But I knew I needed his prick in my mouth before I could come.

As he bounced his head from side to side, going from one tit to the other, I could feel the heavy weight of his cock beat down on my pussy mound. I was so drunk from his bora-bora and so hot from what his hands and lips had been doing to me that I reached up and whispered in his ear.

"Larry ... Larry, do it to me. Do it to me now. Oh God, won't you stick that hard cock of yours into my pussy!"

He complied at once, but as soon as the head of it touched me between the legs I

realized that I wasn't ready for it. I was hot all right, and I was even wet down therebut somehow I seemed tight. So tight that he couldn't seem to get it in at first. It wasn't how I thought it was going to feel how I'd hoped it might feel. But he kept prodding me with the tip of his tool until at last he was able to put it in. It split me between the legs like a chisel breaking a bag of rice. It wasn't exactly painful-just quick and deep. Too quick, I guess, for Larry, because he started pumping away like a jackhammer before I hardly had time to get my ass set solid on the bed.

Even at that, it felt damned good. I tried to show him that I wanted him move slower by gripping my arms around his back in slow, I rhythmic hugs. It slowed him down a little but then I felt his tongue on my titties again and it seemed like he was getting so hot he might come off in me any minute. The worst part about it was that I was beginning to Work up a good movement that I felt might be bringing me to the brink of a great orgasm.

Suddenly Larry seemed to know what I was doing. I was overjoyed. He slowed down his movements and I lay waiting for the feeling of climax to start building up in my pussy. I like it much better when I suck a guy off, but what the hell-experimenting around is fun.

Just then, Larry pulled himself up in bed a little to kiss me (I thought!) and all at once

I felt his cock slip out of me as limp as a rag. The bastard had already come! I couldn't believe it. He hadn't been pulling himself up to kiss me at all-he'd only been lifting himself off so he could take his soft, dripping dick out of action. And he did it just when I was beginning to think I might have one chance in hell of coming. I was frustrated, to say the least. I wanted his stiff dick in my mouth, and he had gone and shot off before I had the chance to suck it.

Larry realized what had happened.

Finally he spoke. He wasn't looking at me when he started talking, but I could hear him even though he was speaking in a real weak voice.

"What's the matter. Didn't you come?" he asked me.

I answered him, but not with words. I took his soft little cock in my hand and began slowly to work my fingers up and down the shortened length of its gleaming, comecovered

shaft. It surprised him so much to see what I was doing that he started to say something but I was making his cock feel so good he forgot what he was going to say. I was in control then, and I knew it.

As my manipulations made his cock grow fatter and harder, I lowered my head towards it and fastened my eyes on it. When he realized what I was about to do, Larry gave a little moan of pleasure and wiggled his hips as he tried to put his straining prick closer to my face. But I didn't need any coaching. The sight of his hard peter made my mouth start to water at the thought of having it inside my mouth. I dropped my face onto his tool and let his hot meat slide into my mouth. The big head of it almost choked me but it felt soo good I didn't give a damn. I felt the heat of my cunt juices pouring out of my swollen slit and down my legs as I began to rock backward and forward. Both my hands were on the base of his cock and my tongue was busy sucking the love juice left from our previous fuck.

Then I felt my orgasm start to fill my crotch like a giant swelling. As Larry looked on in amazement I jerked my ass and sweat broke out on my brow as I got my rocks and yelled out .loud in sheer excitement.

I hadn't bothered to wait until Larry shot off. I guess that kind of peeved him. As I lay on my back recuperating from my orgasm it was my turn to ask the questions.

"What's the matter? Didn't you come?" I asked.

Larry knew very well he had just asked me the same question not long before. He knew I had used his big cock to get what I wanted, and he seemed to resent it. He started arguing. I reminded him that he had used my pussy to come into without waiting for me to come too. Then he started yelling that I was a pervert.

"You little bitch, you aren't natural," he screamed. "You came just from sucking my cock. I wasn't even touching your twat. What kind of an oddball are you, anyway?" "You mean you didn't like what I did to you?" I questioned.

I had him there, and he knew it. He was well aware of the fact .that it felt great to have my mouth on his peter even if I didn't do it as long as he wanted me to. I guess he must have thought then about he would like to have more of the same kind of loving in the future, because he started being nicer to me. He tried a new tack. I didn't care, though. I'd just got what I wanted from him, so I decided I'd just let him squirm.

In a softer voice, he asked me, "Listen, Gwenn, you still want those pictures. I wasn't kidding about them. I'll still take some shots of you. "

But that was the last thing I wanted to do. I said. "No, Larry. Just take me home."

"Take you home, huh? Okay, I'll take you home. Okay."

It was obvious that he was mad at me for being what he considered to be a kook. In the car he didn't say a word until got to my apartment. Then he said, "Listen, honey, you may have long legs and big" tits, but you got something wrong with you. You ought to go see a shrink you know it?" Then he drove away.

It must have been three o'clock or so before I went to sleep.

I kept thinking about going down on guys. One day I'm going to meet a special guy, or else have a special thing happen to me. Then I'll discover what it is to have an even bigger thrill than I've ever had. I don't when, but it's got to happen.

One may conjecture that if Gwenn had never participated in the initial with her uncle she would not have developed her mentally unhealthy attitude toward fellatio. It was Gwenn's uncle who taught her the art of oral love. It is equally-true, however, that she would have been less disposed to develop the unhealthy attitude if her mother had not been so violently opposed to the act of fellatio. It was this facet of the case which resulted in the approach-avoidance reaction which was to characterize her subsequent feelings about the act.

In the one sense, Gwenn was "imprinted" with an unusually high desire for fellatio as the result of being presented with the impetus for the act by her uncle without being able to carry out that impetus to a satisfying conclusion. In another sense, she was unfortunately browbeaten into regarding the act as spectacularly degrading by an overly prudish mother. It is difficult, if not impossible, to separate these two elements of her early environment in terms of the effect that later ensued from them. Today, although Gwenn still requires fellatio in order to reach climax, we may rest assured that she is able to live a relatively happy life.

Chapter IV

Thinking back, my mother was lovely, my father was a fuckin' drunken bum, in spite of this love was blind and mother adored him.

"I grew up in a neighborhood where you had to take a rock with you to throw at the rats when you went to take out the garbage. Before I was six years old I had decided that, whatever it took, I wasn't going to stay in that filthy dump any longer than I absolutely had to. My mother was a lovely woman who, through a series of sick choices, had first married, then had four children by a charming lazy bones a manmy father, the great love of her life. He was always full of plans and dreams about how he was going to make a million dollars and get us out of there. Then when the dreams didn't materialize and the plans fell through, he would go on a week-long drunk that would eat up whatever money my mother had scrounged from her household allowance, my father's last paycheck (he was always getting fired) and the contents of my piggybank, which I learned to hide away from all of them before too many years had passed.

"After my father had sobered up and went through another week of being hung over, swearing ‘Never again!' and cursing his rotten luck, he would go back out into the world and get another job, no better than the last one, and begin dreaming his dreams all over again. My mother would wipe the tears from her face, heave a sigh, and go back to saving a few pennies here and there, hoping she'd be saving a few pennies she'd be strong enough to keep them away from her charming, no-good husband when he was ready for his next drunk. And I would go back to feeding that piggybank for all I was worth running errands, babysitting as soon as I was old enough, doing extra chores for the women who lived around us, making yarn dolls and doilies and placemats and whatever else I could create for nothing and sell at a profit of five, maybe even twenty-five cents.

"When I was twelve, I had my first menstrual period and decided that I was now a woman, and, as such, was ready to split that lousy slum we'd lived in for as long as I could remember. I broke my piggybank-by now I'd changed nickels and quarters into dollar bills before putting them in there-and discovered I had enough to pay for a one-way ticket to my maternal grandmother's home in !.DB Angeles.

"My mother cried and asked what she'd ever do without me, because I was the oldest kid and I helped her a lot. My father went out and got drunk because he knew I didn't want to live with them anymore, which made him realize all over' again what a failure .he was. My brothers and sister looked on with envy and longing in their eyesthey'd known what I was planning for two years, and they wanted out, too, even though they all loved my mother and dad.

"I bad a few moments of thinking that maybe I ought to stay a little longer and help them struggle along for a few more years, but then the old man came home fallingdown drunk and threw up all over the threadbare living room rug that was my mother's pride and joy. When I saw the poor woman down on her knees, trying to clean up the mess and crying because she didn't have the guts to leave the man she loved. I knew it really was time for me to go-so I kissed everyone, goodbye-and my dad, too-and left.

"The trip west was exciting to me, even though I was seeing the country through the window of a Greyhound bus and living on peanut butter sandwiches half-way across the United States. I could hardly wait to get to glamorous Hollywood and make my fortune as a movie star. Grandma knew I was coming, and she met me at the bus stop with open arms.

"I didn't tell grandma about the nice man who'd been sitting next to me for the last foul' hundred miles and buying my food. He'd been buying my food because I didn't report him to the bus driver for putting his hand up my skirt and trying to feel my twelve-year-old pussy. When he first did it, I jumped-I hadn't any experience that way, as yet-but I knew instinctively that if I kept quiet and let him feel around a little before I moved away, he'd be willing to buy me something-maybe even give me some money for my new piggybank that was waiting at Grandma's house. "Being hungry and broke all your young life teaches you some strange lessons. Pretending to be shocked, repelled by his advances, I let him have just a little feel of my sweet, young virgin creases that were just under the rosebud-printed panties I'd treated myself to, then I squirmed away and crossed my skinny kid legs really tight. That made him turn bright red all over his face and neck. I guess he was about thirtyfive or so. He'd been telling me all about his little girl and how much he loved her, just before I felt his damned hand up under my plaid skirt. Your little girl better watch out; you bastard, I remember thinking as I waited for a split second before jumping

away from his hand.

"But I didn't tell the bus driver; I didn't tell anyone, even though I was the pet of the other passengers, who'd sort of appointed themselves my family-in-transit. At the next lunch stop, I sat next to him and ordered the kind of meal I'd always dreamed of-steak and potatoes, salad and dessert. He knew I was living on pennies, and he knew what I wanted him to do. As I daintily wiped my mouth at the end of my first real feast, he quickly picked up my check and paid for my lunch at the cash register. "From then on, all I had to do in order to eat like the Queen of the Lunch Counter was to let him feel me up once or twice an hour, and I had it made. I was never obvious about it-I'd just let him finger my pussy place for a few seconds, then move away, adjust my skirt like the properly brought up young lady that I was, and go on talking or reading or whatever. The other passengers didn't think it was strange that we sat together for the rest of the trip; they felt that he was lonesome for his daughter, and was trying to help me feel less homesick for my dear old Dad. If only they'd known! But they didn't and I got off that bus and ran into my Grandma's arms a good five pounds heavier than I'd been when I got on back in Pennsylvania. The only other change in me since the beginning of the bus trip was that I'd discovered a great new way to fill my pussybank while enjoying myself a lot-having SEX. "Because I did enjoy what that dirty guy was doing to my little pink pussy. The touch of his hand through my cotton panties was very exciting to me, after the first shock, and although I felt nothing but disgust for him, I liked the feelings he was awakening in my virgin body. I'd never played with myself, and the few talks my mother had had time to give me on the subject of sex had been so vague that I hadn't really been impressed with them one way or the other. So here I was, being fingered ever so lightly on my little-girl cunt by a man not much younger than my father, almost in front of a bus full of smiling passengers who all thought the cute little girl and the nice fatherly man were having a heart-to-heart talk about the Girl Scouts, or something. "By the end of that bus trip, I was turned on to sex and men and, incidentally, making both of them pay, pay, pay. I hadn't planned to be an actual hooker ever, but I began to see the advantages of being pretty, smelling good, and letting the guy who wanted into my cunt think he was getting a real lady-a girl who wouldn't ever let just anyone do horny things to her. There had been several times when my meal-ticket daddy had gotten his fingers just to the edge of my panty-crotch, and the thought of letting him go ahead and put his hand on my stark-naked pussyhole began to excite me so that I almost did it once or twice when the bus was speeing along through the desert darkness.

"The first time, I'd been sleeping against his shoulder, cuddled up real sweet, as if he was a lover and not, a father-figure. I was half-awakened by the light touch of his hand on my budding breast-I hadn't started wearing a bra yet-and nothing was between his warm hand and my small, high titty but my nylon blouse. The unfamiliar feeling of my nipple going erect woke me completely, but by this time I wanted to be caressed and petted, and I went on 'sleeping' while I cuddled closer to him so that he was cupping my tit in his hand and giving it the faintest squeeze. Then, as my body began tingling under his touch, I felt his other hand slipping slowly, lightly, up my leg, under my skirt.

"I moved in my 'sleep' so that my legs were spread a bit, and cuddled even closer to him. His hand crept higher and higher on my leg, now slipping to the insides of my thigh, all the way to the edge of my panties, right next to my cunt. I moved again, still 'sleeping', and now his hand was an the way over my pussy, pressing against it the least bit, but enough to let me know it could be harder if I wanted it to be. I wanted it. I didn't know what was giving me the feelings of delight that were racing all over my body, I just knew that I was in the darkness, being petted and cuddled the way my own father never had cuddled me, not even when I was a baby.

"I loved it, so I let my legs go even looser and sort of scooted up a bit on the bus seat-up enough to press my vibrating virgin cunt against the hand that was awakening it. He moved his fingers then, and I flew even higher in my first ecstasy, for one of those fingers had pressed against my love-button, my clitoris, and an electric shock went through me. I think he knew by this time that I wasn't asleep any more, but I didn't open my eyes, I Just went on moving slowly around, never letting my crotch get away from his hand. His hand that had been fondling my tit so lightly now squeezed harder; he tickled my tiny clit so that I began to experience the new thrill of beginning a climax. It was an unbelievable sensation.

"I could hear him breathing into my hair, feel him kissing softly the skin on my forehead, feel his hands playing my body as if it was a violin. Then just as I was ready to let his fingers slip underneath the cotton panties that were between his hand and my pussy, the bus stopped suddenly and the lights went on. 'Rest stop, everyone,' said the driver, and we quickly moved apart. It was turning day outside, the sunrise red over the desert, and that was the end of anything but those fleeting feelies that he kept stealing all day whenever he thought no one was looking. "That night was the last night of the trip and I knew he was waiting for the sun to go down and the bus to get dark. As soon as the last reading light had gone out over the last sleepy passenger, I fell 'asleep' against his shoulder again, and those warm hands began their journey over my young, trembling body. Once more, it started with a faint touch on the small breast close to his hand, the hand that he was using to steady me against the swaying of the bus. In the close darkness of our seat, we both went into the same acting that we'd gone through the night before in order to realize our desire-s.

"As I 'slept,' he touched me, now on my leg, now my thigh, so that I wanted to feel him stroking me all over. But at first he only touched, sending tiny stabs of pleasure and a pin-pricking awareness of sex all over my skin. In my mind, I could see how his hands must look on my body-the short, soft hairs on the backs of those hands, the light tan that contrasted with the white shirt cuff that lay against his wrist. I especially liked his fingers, because they were long and gentle, and without the calluses that I'd known as normal for a man's hands. Those fingers now began a delicate stroking of my thigh, and I eagerly spread my legs for him so that he would put his hand against my cloth-covered hot pussy again. He did, softly covering my pussy with his hand, and then pressed harder and harder until, when his fingers starting moving and rubbing me, I was ready to cry out with the wonderful feeling it gave me.

"This time there was no pretense-even though I kept my eyes closed, he knew I was awake, and he knew I wanted more than we'd had the night before. So he gave me all he could without actually putting his fingers inside my virgin cunt. As much as I scorned him for playing sex games with a twelve-year-old girl, I must now that I think back, respect him for doing without the pleasure of fingerfucking my slit, because I was so turned on to him that I would have let him do anything he wanted with me. "Some stirring of responsibility must have stopped him from taking my virginity with his fingers, for he only rubbed and pressed my pussy from the outside of the cotton panties. And he knew how to make love to a girl, he really did! Every time I was about to climax to the probing, stroking, rubbing of his fingers, he would transfer my attention to my breast by flicking his fingertips across my nipple, lightly squeezing my whole breast, then teasing me to agony by casually moving his hand across the fabric of my blouse so that the feeling of the nylon jersey being pulled around on my bare nipple had me ready to tear off my panties and beg him to take me. Then the hand that had been lying easily against the skin of my upper thigh would begin its pressure against the side of my leg where the panties left off and my pussy began, and we'd be off again, with him fucking my pussy through my panties, actually entering my vagina a little way. I moved more quickly now, excited past caution by his hands on my body. But he was older, much older, and much more experienced than I, and he kept his wits about him enough to slow me down so that the other passengers had no suspicion of what we were doing.

"At last he guided my hand to the huge, hard swelling that I'd noticed under the fly of his slacks whenever I peeked at his crotch during the day as he was feeling my pussy. I pulled my hand away, even though I was excited with what he'd been doing up until then. Patiently, he rubbed my pussy through my panties again until I was pressing up against his hand, and once more took my own hand in his and firmly placed it on his throbbing cock. I could feel every inch of him through the cloth of his slacks, and I now wanted to rub and squeeze him as he'd been doing to me. "He had left a magazine lying across his lap when he turned out our reading light, and now I knew why he had left it there. Underneath the cover of that magazine, I was getting my first anatomy lesson concerning the erect cock of the adult male. No sexual experience could have ever been more exciting for a young girl than that one.

That a man of thirty-five was having sex with a girl of twelve didn't matter to me then.

All I knew was that I was enjoying myself more than I ever had in my life before. "I instinctively did what he needed to come to his own climax. I held his rock-hard rod tightly in my hand and rubbed up and down, up and down, until he, too, was straining forward as much as he could without being too noticeable about it. I loved the feeling of satisfaction that I got when I saw how he responded to my hand on his joint. The magazine miraculously stayed put as he carefully unzipped his fly and put my hand inside his pants, inside his shorts. Now I could feel the warm, soft skin that covered his hardness, and I became more excited than I'd been before, even when he'd been slowly inserting his finger as far as he could through my panties and into my pussyhole. He moved my head down on his cock-it was new to me but I licked and sucked it. I felt the tip of his cock and it was all wet and sticky-he'd come in my mouth as I was sucking him the first time.

"The swaying of the bus as it went around a curve threw us together and he pulled me close to his side and put his hand against my now wet pussy his fingers under the edge of my panties just enough to touch the side of my still-innocent labia. I arched my back toward him, at the same, time keeping my hold on his hot cock. All of a sudden a feeling of strange delight began to gather in my body, and I rubbed him faster, not caring any more whether the other people on the bus saw us or not. Just as I reached my first climax a stream of warm, thick come squirted out of the end of his big cock a second time, and I felt in my hand the result of his teaching-a lesson I've never forgotten.

"The next morning, after we'd got our luggage together and I'd introduced him to my grandmother, he bent and kissed me very lightly on the lips. 'So long, sweetheartkeep smiling. Someday you may be a movie star. Just be careful who you talk to on buses and trams. Then he walked away, and we went home to Grandma's house. My brand-new piggybank was waiting for me on top of the dresser that had been my mother's when she was a little girl. Piggy's first dinner from me was the ten-dollar bill that had been slipped into my hand by the man who'd taught my body how to make love, how to waken from girlhood, how to climax.

"In the years that followed, as I set one foot ahead of the other on my climb to wealth and security, I all but forgot the man on the cross-country bus. I was so busy learning-learning acting technique, stage movement, all the things I'd need to be the successful star my grandmother had always wanted to be.

"It had been her constant pushing to get my mother into acting lessons, casting offices and bit parts in motion pictures, that the girl who was to become that broken woman back East ran away and married the first man who told her he loved her-my father. The disappointment of my mother's desert in of what she believed to be a promising career as an actress never left my grandmother's mind, and so when I wrote to her, begging to live with her instead of in the teeming slum that was the only place my father could keep us, she accepted me as another daughter, another chance to vicariously live the fame she'd never known.

"Years went by-busy years, happy years, years when I slowly perfected the technique of offering my body, or some part of it, as an exchange for whatever I most needed at the moment. My body brought me food, since the money that kept Grandma and me wasn't enough for even a sack lunch after we paid for the expensive lessons Grandma insisted I needed to become a star. There was always dinner at home, but if I wanted lunch, I knew I'd better find a likely male who had the price of it in his pockets, then butter him up without ever quite lying down with him. By and by, as I became known in the different studios where I answered casting calls for extras, I found out who was-and wasn't-interested in semi-supporting a beautiful young woman who'd look very good on his arm at parties, premiers, and in the news shots and publicity photos that the studios are always sending out"

"One day! was walking through the old Metro lot, in costume as an Egyptian slave girl, when I felt a firm hand under my elbow, and a deep voice said, 'Don't panic-old Pharaoh's not gonna eat you up. He just wants to see that you get a nice lunch.' I looked up, and the star of the film we were making was actually holding my arm, steering me toward the commissary, taking an interest in me, an unknown extra! Wow! I thought, I do believe this is it! We had lunch, and I skillfully drew the conversation around to his problem, his life, his looks-for anyone who's ever known an actor will ten you how easy it is to get them to talk about themselves! "By the time he'd told me about himself for an hour, he was convinced I was the most interesting girl on the lot, maybe even in Hollywood. He was going through a divorce at the time-his second-and he wanted company, a shoulder to cry on. I readily supplied him with both. We were soon what the gossip columnists call an 'item' and in a matter of two months, I was living with him in his Bel Air mansion. My acting lessons continued, however, and I had Grandma as an almost live-in guest. Things were really looking up-for him, too. Somehow, getting rid of his wife had freed him of the tension that kept him from being the fine actor he was now becoming, and more and better parts started coming his way.

"Our sex life was wonder, Cabot, was the perfect lover-passionate, considerate, affectionate. After six months of an exciting, glamorous affair, we were married in a little chapel in Acapulco, and I knew then that all the working and saving and conniving had been worthwhile-I was the wife of a dear, good man who just happened to be one of the world's up-and-coming motion picture stars, and was also quite comfortably wealthy as a result of having invested his earnings in California real estate. No more slums for this lady, ever. No more fighting the rats to get to the garbage can, no more hiding my piggybank from my drunken father, no more hearing my mother call the police when she thought we couldn't hear her and ask if there was any news of my daddy's whereabouts, or if he was safely in jail again. "Grandma was overjoyed, but she insisted on my continuing with the lessons for which we'd done without. 'You never know, Renee-a woman should always have a trade in case she needs to earn her own way someday. Keep on learning and you'll never starve, with or without a husband.' I took her advice and enrolled in the finest drama academy on the West coast. Along with all the other things that Cabot's money could buy, it brought my mother-my father had died three years ago as the result of a fall while he was on one of his drunken toots, and the two kids that were still at home to the West coast, and we installed them As proud home owners in a comfortable house not far from where we lived. I thought I had everything. "Then one day I called the phone number of a masseuse who had been recommended by a friend of mine. All the rich food I'd been gobbling since coming to live with. Cabot had begun to show in a very unattractive layer of fat, and I knew if I wanted to get even a second lead that I'd better stay slim. So I called Laureen, and when she started robbing my body, something about her strong, capable hands seemed so familiar that my heart quite literally turned over. I couldn't remember for the life of me who'd touched me that way, who'd stroked me into an awareness of my own body that I'd never known before. Even though Cabot and I had a good sexual relationship, and even though I enjoyed myself tremendously in his arms, there had always been something missing-something I could never put my finger on, but that I wanted so much that I pushed it out of my mind because I thought I'd never have it. "Now, the professional hands of a masseuse, a woman I'd only known for a halfhour, were reawakening memories .that I'd buried under a landslide of need, an avalanche of ambition. Where did I know that touch? Who had stroked my body in just that way-firmly but lightly, rhythmically but capably? After a few minutes of puzzling over this half-forgotten sensation, I let my mind and body be lulled by Laureen's expert touch and drifted into a hazy, half-waking state where impressions went slipping by like clouds across a summer sky. Suddenly I sat up on the massage table, my towel falling away, and I nearly shouted aloud, 'That's it! the man on the cross-country bus!'

"Good sense kept my mouth shut and I explained my sudden movement to Laureen as the result of a muscle twinge. We went on with the massage, but now I was tingling all over as my body remembered my first sexual experience, when the hands of a man in a dark bus taught me to climax. I knew that the worst thing I could do was tell Laureen about this-and certainly, never ever could I talk about it to Cabot. His frail actor's ego would never survive the blow that I would give it by telling him that I was more turned on by the hands of a masseuse than I was by the whole body of a gorgeous film star-who just happened to be my husband.

"So the days went by, with me tingling to touch of my masseuse while still madly in love with my husband. It was a good thing that I'd become such a fine little actressmy training in. that area was all that kept me from giving away the whole thing to both husband and masseuse. I hadn't been able to climax to Laureen's touch as yet, because naturally, she was only massaging the areas of my body that needed it, in her opinion. Unfortunately, the part of me that needed her massage more than anywhere else was my hungry pussy, with my breasts running a dose second. But how to get her to do it without having her think I was a roaring lesbian? I wasn't, at least not at that time. I just wanted Laureen to rob my pussy, massage my clitoris, stroke my breasts the way the man in the bus had done, I wanted it so much that as weeks went by, I could think of nothing else.

"Everything went by the board, because I just couldn't stop myself from thinking about the man on the bus, about his hands, his touch, and how much better it had been then the loving my husband gave me, how much more exciting it had been than the different affairs I'd had before I was married. Even though I'd never had a lesbian experience, or even known a lesbian girl, K started fantasizing about Laureen, about how K could get her to rub my pussy, maybe squeeze my breasts or even kiss my lips lightly, as the man on the bus had done so long ago.

"Unbelievable? Yes, it was unbelievable that a woman who had so much in material wealth, so much in married affection, so much in the way of a beginning career in films, should risk losing everything for the sake of reliving her first sex experience. But it had become an obsession-I had to experience once more the feelings that I'd first known in that cramped bus seat with the gentle lecher who had become in my memory, the man-on-the-bus.

"I began masturbating for the first time in my life, because I was so frustrated and confused. Cabot made love to me three or four nights a week, and sometimes oftener. I was losing interest in our lovemaking because I wanted something different-I wanted those soft, gentle hands on my body-I wanted the forbidden-fruit situation of a little girl and an older man touching each other in the middle of a group of people who didn't know what they were doing. I wanted to feel naughty, to go back and do it all over again-but I couldn't and knowing I couldn't was turning me into a mooning neurotic.

"The days when Laureen came to the house to give me a massage were red-letter days for me-I bathed, shaved my legs, douched, perfumed my skin, made up my face and did my hair as carefully as I once did for a lover. But except for the flush of passion that Laureen's hands brought to my face and breasts, I couldn't bring myself to indicate in any way that I wanted her fingers in my pussy, on my breasts and hips. When she did massage my shoulders, I tried to move in such a way that her hands would have to rub over my breasts, but it didn't work-she was too professional to slip and. perhaps offend a good customer. As I lay on the massage table, I planned things that I would do to force her to touch my cunt, rub my clit, maybe even kiss me. I never did any of them-I was too shy, too inexperienced to know how to begin." In his book Cunnilingus and Fellatio, Dr. John F. Trimble devotes chapter 6 to the childhood trauma or pleasure fixation. Trimble says, "The childhood trauma or pleasure fixation quite frequently involves an approach by an adult which ends in a complete sexual act." He then goes on to quote Kinsey's studies which show: ... something like 24% (of female children) are sexually approached by adults in preadolescence, and that among these, 2% engage in either cunnilingus or fellatio with the adult ... " For those approached who are in a gentle and seductive manner, and for many of a precocious constitution who are approached by stranger, these prepubertal contacts with adults have the capacity for establishing a primary preference or fixation. Simply stated, if the experience produced pleasure or orgasm, the individual may be prompted to repeat it in later life ... When the developing child or adult does have an erotic heterosexual relationship, there can easily be a fixation of this form of expression. The roots may lie much farther back with the infantile urge for sucking, but the need becomes fixated and primary because of the drama, the trauma, of reacting to the living experience.

Much the same as a child will subconsciously pattern itself after it's parent or parents so it will frequently fix its sexuality on the first gratifying (or terrifying) sex act that It experiences. Thus will a girl of tender years find it impossible to become excited by a boy of her own age, and find it most titillating to be made love to by a man some twenty years her senior. Similarly, a boy who has been seduced by his neighbor's wife who is perhaps fat, slovenly and not too bright, will continually seek out women who remind him of the fat, slovenly type woman who first taught him to climax in a female body. Fortunately, not too many boys are seduced by fat, slovenly, stupid women, but enough people have had very early sex experiences that implanted in their minds either extreme pleasure or fright, and they then mate, time and time again, with love objects who fit most closely the description and/or personality of their very first sex partner. How many times have we said, upon observing an unlikely couple with an age difference of fifteen twenty years, or some other unusual pairing situation, "I don't know what they see in each other!"

What people see in each other that excites or stimulates them has everything to do with their choice of mates. The all-powerful subconscious mechanism which remembers everything we see, do, hear, and think records all the impulses, pleasant and unpleasant, that occur in the course of a lifetime. So it is that, against all reason and intelligent information, an individual will deliberately choose the one person in their acquaintance who makes them unhappy ("Mother taught me to be unhappy-she loved to suffer") or happy ("I had a good childhood-my parents both loved me. ") or emotionally cripple ("Everything I do turns to shit-I just can't win!") or productive and well-balanced ("When you're down and out, pick up your head and shout-I'm down and out!").

With all this rolling around in our minds, it is any wonder that "good" marriages are so unusual as to be quite remarkable? How few of us overcome the negative patterning we received as children and take a positive stand in our life style? How many of us trot docilely along to the psychiatrists' couch and lay down our bodies and our money in an effort to change the things we want to change, and enhance the things that do go right in spite of it all? And how many of us find ourselves in the position of marrying two or three times-to two or three "different" people, all of whom look, act and react in the same way?

Renee's case is, therefore, not at all unusual-it's perhaps a bit more dramatic than most, but still typical enough to be included in this study of fixated wives. She tells us that her sexual relationship with her husband, whom she loves, is satisfying until she encounters a "familiar" touch while her masseuse is giving her a massage. Then she suddenly remembers her early sex experience with the man on the bus and her world is no longer the pleasant place it once was-all because her first neural pattern having to do with sexual release was with a man she didn't know, for whom she had great scorn, whom she used as a meal ticket, and whom she's not seen from that day until this. That the light, gentle touch belongs to the hands of a female is enough to make the attraction that much more exciting to Renee, who now indulges in masturbatory homosexual fantasies, plots ways in which she can seduce the masseuse, and finally does have a homosexual affair with said masseuse as soon as her husband leaves town. She tells us the rest of her story:

"Then Cabot signed a contract to make an important film in Italy and went away on location, with me planning to join him as soon as I could rent the house and pack my things for Rome. That took away the one source of sexual satisfaction I had and I increased my masturbation to three or four times a day, saying that I needed a nap, or was going to take a bath. On the days that Laureen rubbed me, my own fingers got the hardest workout of all-I literally mashed my clitoris for an hour at a time trying to find relief from the awful sexual pressure that was building within me.

"In an effort to stop thinking about the whole thing, I took the car and drove around until I felt like shopping. After I'd parked, I realized that I didn't need anything, that I

could do much better by waiting until I got to Rome and shopping there. But I was out and dressed and ready for something-anything-to happen.

"As I walked along the shopping center sidewalk, the display in the window of a bookstore caught my eye. It was a group of books that were all about the sexual revolution, about the sexual hangups that people had and how they got rid of them. That's for me, I thought. Before I got hungup over Laureen and that damned man-onthe- bus, I was a happy girl. Maybe they have a book that will help mixed-up Renee. I went in and asked for something that dealt with children who had been molested in their preteen years-I didn't know what else to ask for.

"The female clerk tactfully led the way to a large table with a display similar to the one in the window-book after book about sex, love and the weird hangups that people will have. I picked up one or two books until I found what I wanted, a psychological text on the results of early sex experience, and was ready to leave when I saw a magazine rack with some of the wildest magazines on it that you could ever imagine. I mean, I knew what pornography was, but I didn't know it could be actually beautiful.

"The photographs in those magazines were in color, and they were good. I bought one with a picture of two half-nude girls on the cover. They were gazing at each other like people in love, and one of them was fondling the other's breast, which was in full view outside her unbuttoned blouse. That picture turned me on almost as much as the thought of Laureen doing the same thing to me.

"After buying a few bottles of wines and some rum for mixed drinks, I went on home. It was one of those hot, dry Southern California days when the santana winds blow in off the desert and make everyone feel sort of-strange and daring. At least, that was the way I felt when the santana blew in, and that's the way I was feeling now. I was so tense that I mixed myself a rum cooler and after I'd had that one and was halfway through the second, I decided to look at my new magazine.

"As I said, I had never thought of myself as a lesbian-or even as a girl with a healthy curiosity about making it with another girl. But as I looked at the beautiful female bodies in that magazine, and at what those girls were doing to each other, I began getting hotter than even the desert winds could make me. I had the maid bring me another rum cooler and went to the phone to call Laureen. 'Laureen, this stupid hot wind has my nerves on edge-do you have the time to come over and give me a fast rub to relax me?' I asked, knowing very well that Wednesday was her day off. " 'Well, for you I'll make an exception, Renee,' came Laureen's lilting, accented voice. 'It's my day off, but I'm just sitting around the house and I'd like to get out. See you in fifteen minutes,' she said, and rung off.

"I could hardly contain myself-I had no idea of what I was going to do, if indeed I was going to do anything beside get another of those maddeningly sexy, yet unfulfilling massages. I gave the servants the afternoon off, told the answering service to take all our calls and headed for my bedroom. When Laureen let herself into the house I was already naked, perfumed with my most expensive scent, and quivering with anticipation ...

"As she walked into my bedroom in her immaculate blue uniform, Laureen looked like a Viking maiden-all golden hair and tawny skin and blue eyes that immediately saw that I'd been drinking. 'You shouldn't drink in the middle of the day, especially when you're drinking alone,' she chided.

" 'If you have a drink with me, I won't be drinking alone, will I?' I asked, and poured her a tall one from the pitcher I'd brought to my bedroom. Laureen's blue eyes seemed to be looking through my skull, right into my mind.

" 'Thank you, Renee,' she said, and sat down on the bed to enjoy her drink. Then she caught sight of the magazine I'd been reading and the blue eyes got quite wide.

'Is this your magazine; Renee?' she asked incredulously.

" 'Yes, I just bought it,' I said, as casually as I could. 'I think it's very interesting.

Would you like to read it?'

"Laureen picked up the magazine very slowly, looking at me the whole time. 'I didn't know you were interested in such things,' she murmured as she glanced through the first few pages.

" 'They all have such good figures, don't you think?' I responded, being as detached about it as I could. My heart beat wildly as I saw how Laureen's glance became a gaze, and the gaze turned into a long, long look at a picture of two girls who were clasped together so tightly that their naked breasts were almost flattened against each other.

" 'Yea, their bodies are very-exciting,' she agreed, and her choice of words gave me a sudden surge of hope. Could it be that Laureen, my tall, beautiful masseuse, was getting turned on from the magazine? Did she too, have a longing to be caressed and kissed by a woman? I told myself sternly that I was imagining things, and as she seemed to be finished with her drink and the magazine, I rolled over on the bed and said, 'I'm too lazy to get on the table today, Laureen Couldn't you just give me my massage here on the bed?'

" 'I don't like to do that, Renne-you won't have the right amount of tension and all you'll get will be a little stroking.'

"Oh, God, if she only knew that was what I wanted! 'Please Laureen, all I want is to be relaxed today-I don't care if we take off any more inches for a while. Rub me on the bed.'

"For her answer, Laureen opened the small attache case she used to carry her supplies and spread a small towel on the bed under my hips. Then spreading-a handful of lotion over my tummy, she started to massage away the tension. As she continued to rub my belly and waist, the relaxing muscle tension was replaced by another kind of tension-the tension in the air between two people who want to make love to each other. There was no mistaking it; I'd felt it too many times before with men who'd wanted my body to interpret it as something else.

"Sure enough, as she went on to my shoulders her hands worked closer and closer to my breasts, and became gentler than they'd ever been before. This was no kneadoff- the-fat, tone-up-the-muscles massage-this was the touch of a lover, the touch that had lived in my subconscious for thirteen years and was now flooding my mind with sensations I'd known were right under the surface of my skin..

"Laureen's face came closer to my body as she bent over the bed to delicately massage the flesh all around my breasts, while deliberately avoiding any contact with the actual breasts themselves. 'If you're uncomfortable bending over like that, you might as well sit on the bed: I said, hoping that her professional attitude would stay away and her desire for me would take over so that this tingling excitement would never end. She didn't answer, but she did sit down on the edge of the bed and, continuing to massage my waist and belly muscles, again bent close to my body, so close that I could feel her breath on my skin.

"Her hands were getting more and more like those of a lover-she slid them over and around my belly, up and down my waist around and around my titties until I couldn't stand it any longer. I had to say something to get her to caress my breasts, where the nipples were already erect and waiting for the sucking, tonguing kisses I wanted from this blonde beauty. The best I could come up with was, 'Do you think there's anything to the idea that regular massage will make the breasts fuller?' I could hardly get through that, I was so panting with desire.

" 'Some say yes, some say no. Don't you think your breasts are full enough, Renee?' asked Laureen as she went on circling my breasts with her strong, gentle hands. "'Does anyone under an E cup think her breasts are full enough?' I joked, and Laureen giggled along with me.

"Then suddenly we weren't giggling anymore, because Laureen's hands had finally found my round, quivering tits and she was kneading them, lightly brushing her palms over my nipples, and never taking her eyes off my face. I looked deeply into her eyes and saw the mixture of desire and lust I had dreamed of seeing there. A moan came from somewhere inside my soul, and I moved my body up, toward those marvelous hands that were now cupping and holding my breasts as though they had been made for just that.

"Laureen's face was turning to a rosy blush, her breath was coming faster, and her mouth was open' and making a sort of sucking motion. 'Oh God, Laureen, that feels so good!' I cried wiggling uncontrollably under her hands. In the moving around, one of my hands found its way to her thigh, which was resting just beside it on the bed. Her flesh was firm and well-muscled without being actually masculine. As my hand felt her upper thigh through the fabric of her uniform I was reminded of the forbidden excitement of feeling the huge hard cock of my first lover-the man-on-the-bus. "Without knowing how I did it, I started stroking Laureen's thigh, going higher and higher with each stroke, closer and closer to her warm, sexy-smelling cunt. 'Renee, Renee, don't stop, please don't stop,' she begged in a whisper. So I was right; she did want me, maybe as much as I wanted her. I started my next stroke at her knee and as I ran my hand up her gorgeous leg, I made sure I went under her uniform skirt-on the way to her pussy.

"She gasped when she realized that I wasn't going to stop-not until we'd both had our fill of loving each other, of kissing. As my hand reached her furry lovenest, I found that she wasn't wearing a girdle-or even panties. There was nothing between me and my beautiful masseuse but the soft, damp baby curls around the entrance to her delicious cunt.

"Just as my fingers began irresistibly searching for the jewel of her clitoris, she unbuttoned her uniform and pulled open the top half of it. Her breasts were full and high, not even half covered by a bra of white lace. It must have been a push-up bra, because I could see the aureola around her rosy nipples, and I used my other hand to free on of those luscious breasts from the lacy bra. Laureen bent closer to me and, taking the naked breasts in her hand, she guided her large, erect nipple into my waiting mouth. At first I was so entranced with what I was doing to Laureen that I hardly noticed what she was doing to me, but as I sucked on her nipple, flicking the tip of my tongue across it without letting that breast out of my hungry mouth, I

realized that she had gathered me into her arms and was tenderly cradling me to her body as I sucked and tongued her breast.

"My hand had taken on a life of its own, for I could feel my fingers sliding along the lips of her vagina, seeking that elusive love button, her clit. I found it, and now my fingers really began to fly across her pussy as I did to Laureen what I'd been doing to my own starving pussy for so many weeks. She moaned, and held me tighter, squeezing my breasts and kissing my face with a hundred little kisses that somehow seemed sexier than all the big, hot kisses !I'd had before. Then our mouths met in a kiss that went straight to my soul, past all the lonely years and hard work and even past the happy times with Cabot-all the way back to my childhood.

"We clung together for what seemed like an eternity, our lips melting together, our tongues probing madly into each other's mouths, until there was just one body, one mouth, one tongue. Somehow I took off Laureen's uniform and half slip and we were naked together, except for her bra. My fingers shook as I unhooked it-and then my face was surrounded by her breasts, by the ripe, sweet flesh that was Laureen. "I pulled her down on the bed with me and we started another kiss that went on and on until we were grinding our bellies together, our legs entwined so that I could feel mine against hers. Our legs began to loosen as our hips pushed us closer, then apart, then pressed together again in a movement that finally ended in our spreading wide apart and fitting our throbbing pussies together, clit to clit, slit to slit, our bodies arched toward each other so that we could get the most feeling out of each other's lower lips and now hard, pointed clits.

"In this mood of fulfillment and ectasy we rubbed each other to climax after climax, using fingers, legs, .hands and mouths. We licked each other's skins as though the taste was more delicious than amrosia. Laureen touched the very tip of my clitoris with her fingers and I came so quickly that she didn't even have to move her hand; for I did all the moving, bucking, rearing, my body flying up and down on the bed, out of control, wanting only to continue forever this incredible joy for which I'd waited so long.

"My Laureen was now madly thrusting, too, coming on my hand, which was ramming in and out of her dripping pussy with the speed of a jet-driven machine. I could feel the vibrations in her vagina as she started still another climax. Then it occurred to me that what I'd always wanted to see was a pussy in the middle of a climax, pulsing and sucking on whatever was inside it. Moving my body around, I positioned myself until I could see right into Laureen's wild, clenching cunt.

"The flower-like thing that was the center of this exquisite woman was a deep rosered, satiny and shiny from the secretions pouring out of it onto my hand. Her odor was utterly female, and maddeningly desirable. Just one taste-I'm not really a lesbian, I thought, but I must have just one taste of this woman. I touched my tongue to her clitoris, then sluiced it back and forth across her pussy, forgetting all my reservations about lesbianism, about everything, in my frenzy.

"As my tongue found its way into the smooth recesses of Laureen's quivering cunt, she rolled around until she was right under me, her mouth just an inch or so away from my pussyhole. Then she reached up and pulled my hips down so that I was almost sitting on her face. In this position, we passionately sucked each other to yet more climaxes, working our tongues and lips over and around the throbbing cunt lips and clits we'd wanted do much.

""Finally, we were utterly exhausted, satiated with the realization of the needs we'd kept secret for months. Without even moving from the sixty-nine position we'd been in during our last eating of each other, we fell asleep, twined together like two vines, heavy with flowers, resting for the night.

" 'What the hell is this all about?' came a familiar voice out of a blinding light. Frantically, we leaped up from the bed, Laureen trying to clutch her crumpled uniform to her naked body. My eyes grew accustomed to the light and then I knew who it was.

" 'Cabot! You're supposed to be in Rome! Are you all right?' I was beside myself-how could I have hurt this man whom I loved so much, who had given me his trust? " 'I'm just fine, Renee, and I'm thrilled to see that you seem to be doing rather well, yourself,' he said. 'I had some crazy idea that you might be lonely for me, so while the crew was looking for new locations, I jumped on a jet and here I am-surprise, surprise!"

" 'Oh, darling, please don't be hurt! I couldn't help myself, ever since I started remembering the man-on-the-bus, and Laureen's hands were so good, and I love only you, but I had to do this, I couldn't go on without doing it,' I babbled on in my need to make him understand. 'Understand me, lover, please understand. 'Understand me, lover, please understand why I did it,' I begged him and went to weeping.

" 'It was my fault, Cabot, I did it all, Renee had nothing to do with any of it. I take the entire responsibility: said my brave, loyal Laureen.

"Cabot said nothing at an for a long moment, then he pulled out his handkerchief and dried my tears. 'I've always wondered a lot about something, and maybe you girls can help me,' he said in a quiet, thoughtful voice. 'I've always wondered whether the rules that they made up for enjoying another person were all that fair. I mean, I've known some really great guys who were homosexual-gays who would give you everything they had if you asked them for help. And the lesbian girls I've known have been, generally speaking a good lot of fine women who loved maybe once in a lifetime and stayed with it, gave the relationship all they could give, in the face of the most awful jeering criticism from established society. When I first came in, I'll admit I was shocked. But I knew something was bothering my little Renee for the last couple of months, and I also knew somehow that I should come home and see if I could help her.'

" 'Cabot, oh Cabot, darling. I love you so-do you understand just a little? I never meant to hurt you,' I said, ready to cry again.

" 'I didn't say hurt, Renee, I said shocked, as in surprised, amazed,' Cabot said calmly. 'I thought there was some other guy you were in love with, and finding you with Laureen was, well, a surprise. I'm adjusting to it, now. It may be that I'm even turning on a bit to the way you two beauties looked together, lying there like two lovely statues asleep. Laureen, I had no idea you were so tan all over. Are you a nudist, or do just sunbathe on your roof?' Cabot was looking at Laureen appraisingly, appreciatively, as he spoke.

"Laureen actually blushed all over her long, lithe body. 'I'm a nudist, Cabot. It's a wonderful way to live.'

" 'I can see that it agrees with you, Laureen. Maybe we'll join you one weekend, if your group bas visitors,' my husband said.

"Now it was my turn to be surprised, amazed. Instead of being the wronged husband, instead of turning me out of his house in disgrace, here was this fantastic person trying to relate intelligently to the whole thing. Life is full of wonders, I thought to myself.

Cabot was speaking again. 'If I may tell you girls a secret, one of my favorite fantasies is the one where I find myself in bed with two gorgeous, sexy girls, and we're all doing delicious things to each other. I really believe there should be no boundaries to love, and I'm willing to demonstrate the strength of my convictions right here and now!' So saying, Cabot took off his shorts, we could see how strong his convictions were-his cock was fully erect, standing straight out from his groin, big and hot, with a drop of clear fluid at the end of it.

"I'm dreaming, I thought, having the sexiest dream I've ever had. But I woke up fast when I felt my husband's big rockhard cock pushing into me. He had mounted me as I sat there on the bed, and was pulling me closer to him when Laureen sat down beside us and started stroking my nipples the way she had when we first started our lovemaking, hours-or was it lifetimes?-ago. Then she put her arms around both Joe and me as we moved together and apart, together and apart.

"Suddenly, I wanted to share my two loves with each other.

"Slipping out of Cabot's arms, I pushed Laureen gently into position to receive

Cabot's big, hard cock between her legs. Then with a few stroking motions, I moved Laureen so that her legs were spread apart, her wet, sweet pussy glowing pink in the center of her body. This excited Cabot, so much that he plunged his rod quickly into her cunt, and I could see the juice oozing out of her as his huge joint pressed the walls of her joybox to their limit. Then they were fucking and moaning and writhing, and as I watched them, I wanted to touch them, to touch the fury and energy of their loving. I worked my hands between their bodies and felt Cabot's balls as they banged against Laureen's ass. My fingers crept around to where Laureen's clit was now erect and I massaged her until, between Cabot's cock and my fingers, she cried out and began the uncontrollable motions of her climax. Higher and higher she went, flying, screaming softly in her moment of rapture.

"We all lay together then for hours, not speaking, sleeping a little, mostly just holding each other and kissing fondly, experiencing a warmth and communion of spirit that made our separate lives seem cold and lonely by comparison. Laureen moved in with us the next day, and we now have frequent lovemaking sessions with Cabot, myself, Laureen and, now and then, one of our other friends who turns on to the same sharing. We don't see anything but good in what we do, but the rest of the world would probably call us filthy orgiasts. Truth is, our lives are greatly enriched and we're very happy-so the rest of the world can just mind its own business." Lesbianism is as old as life itself. The notion of sexual expression being permissible only between opposite sexes is a fairly recent invention. Ancient civilizations, notable the pre-Pelleponesian Greek culture. thought it natural and normal to have a homosexual lover or two. Indeed. lesbians get their name from the Greek island of Lesbos, an island in the Aegean Sea that was populated only by women who had female lovers exclusively.

Religious statutes against homosexual lovemaking have their origins in the oncenecessary

duty to produce as many offspring as possible to create more and more little Jews, Christians, Mohammedans, etc. The terrible plagues that swept the world in ancient and medieval times also made it imperative that families have many more children than we do today-if three babies out of five lived to the age of twelve, the family was considered as very fortunate, indeed. Infant mortality rates, too, made it advisable to have as many children as one could so that when a baby quietly passed on after a brief two. or three months in this life, next year's baby could be counted on to take some of the sting away from the death.

As the years went by, homosexuality, along with many other forbidden things, got a bad name. By Victorian times, the very mention of such matters as men loving men or women making love to other women was so risque that ladies had been known to "faint" at these words which indicated a "filthy perversion,' as it was usually called. "Filthy perversion" had, unfortunately, come a near-accurate misnomer for cunnilingus and fellatio the two most popular methods sexual expression between homosexual lovers-for as the centuries went by and the remnants of Imperial Rome went behind the thick walls of their stone castles in order to escape the raids of the Goths, Picts, and other such fierce tribes, bathing became more inconvient, and due to the harsher winters in northern Europe, downright dangerous to the health of the freezing bather. Hence, the accumulated dirt and sweat of a year at a time would quite naturally produce filthy genitalia.

Since filthy genitalia are hardly the most savory things to suck or lick, the term "filthy perversion" came to be used more and more. Even so, as late as Elizabethan times, there were few social sanctions against homosexuality, especially the male variety. The more explicit sonnets of William Shakespeare, for example, point unmistakably to his homosexuality, especially the male variety. The more explicit sonnets of William Shakespeare, for example, point unmistakably to his homosexual involvement with a young nobleman of the time, as well as to his heterosexual love affairs. The advent of good Queen Victoria changed a lot of things, and almost none for the best. Sex, as such, was considered dirty, sinful, a "wife's duty," never a delight for "nice girls," and the enjoyment of dirty sex was almost strictly the prerogative of men and "loose women."

Woefully inaccurate folk tales have come down to us through our forebears, and are still making endless mischief today in the lives of millions of people who, were it not for Victorian nonsense about "purity," "a wife's duty," "when in doubt, suffer" and "filthy perversion," would be generally happier, more productive and certainly in less need of all that therapy, all those tranquilizers and all that divorce. Indeed, it is now generally accepted that most marital conflicts either start or are indirectly caused by poor sexual relationships which have their root in old taboos.

How much less in the way of weeping wives and ex-wives, emotionally damaged children and impoverished and bitter husbands and ex-husbands would we have in our world if good Queen Victoria had taken off her stays and kicked up her heels a bit, instead of squatting on her stuffy backside and expecting everyone in the British Empire, in fact the world, to live according to the dictates of her own sick ideas about love, sex and life?

In our age of sexual enlightenment, we see more and more people experimenting with sexual situations that were once spoken of only in hushed tones, behind closed doors. Younger couples are flatly refusing to get married until they live together for awhile, to be sure they can make it together, instead of rushing to the altar because everyone expects them to get married. "Gays," or homosexual men, are coming out of the shadows and literally demanding equal rights as human beings-the right to marry each other, adopt children, be considered as sane by an armed forces medical evaluation, and even run for public office as a declared homosexual. Wife-swapping, singles orgies and bars that exist for the sole purpose of a man or woman being able to walk ir., pick up a sex partner for the evening and not be considered a person of low morals are now accomplished facts. With all this happening, and with the people involved in it sustaining little or no emotional or social damage, it's no wonder individuals who find sexual expression more wonderful with three or even four or more in the "marriage" are coming into the open and saying" ... our lives are greatly enriched and we're very happy-so the rest of the world can just mind its own business."

Sadly enough, the festering rags of Victorian morality are still being hoisted as banners of truth, and society is still bound to condemn most of the "new morality" as licentious, salacious and just plain dirty, low-down conduct. The inroads that have been made on the establishment attitudes are, however, most encouraging. A freer way of life has sifted into the strongholds of middle-class, middle-aged America, as well as into other Western countries, and now instead of the older folk calling the tune to which the young ones are expected to dance, things have changed radically. Now it's the kids who set the speed for their elders who, although hard put to change, are nevertheless delighted with themselves once they discover that change, instead of being vaguely evil, is actually fun!

Like most vital cultures and subcultures, our Western civilization is in the midst of social as well as scientific, industrial and religious upheavals. It follows that the individual people who live within this civilization, while resisting change for a time, eventually accept modified forms of those very changes that seemed so sinister and dangerous just a short while ago. Group marriage involving some six to twenty people might provide society with a more closely knit, loyal, sexually relaxed unit than the present one that shows us almost as much divorce as marriage, increasing alienation from peer and family groups, and all the evils connected with this alienation.

Renee, Laureen, and Cabot found the family situation in which they were happiest while remaining responsible, productive citizens. It's entirely possible for others to do the same thing, remembering that the grim ghost of good Queen Victoria is still lurking about, and that pioneers in any field are rarely understood by the general public. Pioneers forge into new frontiers, however, and that in itself is frequently reward enough for the possible scorn of society.

Chapter V

Oral love play, in aphrodisiac-geared practices breaks down nearly equally among the married and the un-married couples. The married partners are inclined to engage in it more frequently for the very simple reason that the chances for it are more prevalent in their own cases.

Case History

Arthur was precisely what most of us would want our own sons to be. He was both handsome and intelligent. He was not sex-mad, yet he liked the girls well enough to conduct careful campaigns to bring them around to his desires. He went through a series of very pleasant affairs, managing to ease out of the situation when it began to get too demanding. Things were moving nicely for him up to the time he encountered Doris.

"That's for me," Arthur related. "From the moment Doris crossed my line of vision, I knew she had to be mine."

There was good cause for his conclusion. Doris was a most destinctive girl. She was only seventeen, but she had the bearing of a girl much older than her years. Equally important, she had the physical properties to go along with it. Doris had a lushly contoured body that went in and out at the right places. It not only went in and out, but it then went out again! Not too much, mind you. Just enough.

Doris shared Arthur's feelings over their first date. But she was careful not to let him know how interested she really was in him. She played her part cooly. But so did he. Each had definite plans in mind, unaware that the other was just as calculating on the matter.

They found their first date a pleasant experience. They had similar likes and dislikes. Like so many of the young people in our land today, they were keenly aware of the sex impulses within their young bodies.

The first kiss was rewarding. They sampled one another again. She found herself stirred at his nearness. She let her slim hands caress his head and shoulders. He returned her gesture by working his hands down to her full hips where he caressed and stroked her firm flesh.

She, emboldened, let her hands stray down to his hips where she moved her fingers in suggestive moves around his buttocks. Their bodies began working up against each other in the motions of coitus itself. Both began to get inflamed at the emotional reactions they were eliciting by their movements.

Soon, the willing Doris was lying back against the car seat as he pressed himself down toward her. She put up a token show of resistance as his skilled fingers found her bra clasp and loosened it. But her hungry lips told another story and Arthur boldly caressed her bare breasts as he worked his hands up under her dress. Before too long, he had manipulated the dress up to the point where he could place his eager lips upon her enlarged nipples. Now, he began kissing and sucking at them with increased ardor.

The next stage was to slip her filmy panties off and now he caressed her smooth, naked buttocks. He managed to ease his finger up toward her vulva as she parted her thighs for the gesture. This went on for several minutes and then he finally removed his penis and began easing it up toward her hot, womanly cleft. Only at this critical point did she rebel.

"No, no, please, don't" she gasped into his ear. "I want it just as much as you do, but we mustn't let this go any further. I must save myself for the man I marry ... " "Let that man be me," he gasped in passion.

"But we hardly know each other!" She came up with the proper cliche at the proper moment.

"That'll all come after we're married," he panted. "Now, let's do what we both want to do ... fuck!"

And so they did just that. Doris spread her silky thighs wider so he could enter. His hard cock slid up and the throbbing head penetrated the hot pussy opening. Slowly, he worked his hips so that the lengthy dong slid in deeper and deeper. Soon, it was all the way up inside. Doris now clamped her lovely legs tightly around his buttocks and pulled him even tighter. They writhed and panted as they pounded at one another. Under this tremendous sexual excitement, it was a somewhat short-lived act. Arthur shot his fiery sperm into her receptive crotch as they both groaned and cried in ecstacy.

After this first night, they dated steadily. And they rarely parted company without engaging in sexual intercourse. Then, to Arthur's surprise, he discovered that despite all his care and the contant use of contraceptives, Doris was about to become a mother. Somehow, somewhere, his sperm had managed to penetrate enough to set up the inevitable chain.

"Don't let it even bother you for one second," Arthur kissed her worried face. "We'll get married right away and nobody's going to be any the wiser when the baby comes!"

The marriage took place one month later. Arthur was still in college, but that was no deterrent. Doris was to keep on working at her job until managed to graduate. Doris's pregnancy caused several subtle changes in their lives. For one thing, the job would have to cease for at least four weeks before the time the baby was to be born. But they planned to cross that bridge when they came to it. The other most important change was that Doris began to lose her svelte loveliness somewhat as her body thickened.

At this same point, she seemed to lose some of her fervor for sex. The actions that had so aroused her earlier now seemed a bit mechanical to her. Arthur sensed this lack of response and he .did his best to rectify it. His renewed efforts met with less than signal success. Both the young people discussed it and worried over it. They even contemplated the thought that, perhaps, they were losing their love for one another. But this did not prove to be the case.

Doris loved Arthur and he loved her in return. But a young married man has great sexual impulses and he began to seek other outlets. He found one of the coeds who responded to his interest. Sandra was a solidly built young lady but there was no mistaking her feminity. She had breasts to match Doris's and hips to complement her upper development.

Late one day after classes, Arthur was strolling alone with Sandra. He had made it a habit to walk her part way home whenever the chance arose. This time he walked her all the way to the apartment. At the place, she hesitated then asked if he would like to come in for a dup of coffee and he quickly accepted.

While she brewed the coffee, he wandered from the kitchen to the living room. The apartment was exactly like a dozen others he had seen. When she came out with the two cups of coffee, he took one and then wondered where her "work bench" was.

"Workbench'!" Sandra was puzzled.

"Yeah ... you know, that's what they call the bed." He smiled. He eyed her boldly. He learned enough about women to know that they responded to confidence. Sandra was no exception. She blushed and then pointed out the divan which she explained, opened into a bed.

After they had finished the coffee, Arthur headed for the door to leave. There, he suddenly stopped and Sandra bumped into him. She hastily excused herself."

"It felt good," Arthur smiled at her. Do it again." He let his eyes drop to her rich breasts and then he drew her to him and lifted her face for his kiss. She let him make the contact and then, after a moment, she drew back. But he pulled her to him again. She could feel his hard manhood cock rising beneath his pants as it rubbed upward between her thighs.

"Arthur" she whispered, "you mustn't. You ... know ... you 're married and all that. "I'm married and it's not all that," he pulled her tighter and his hungry mouth clam_ down over her lips. She again made token resistance but it didn't dampen his ardor. He left his hands caress her full hips and buttocks and then focus on the deep cleavage that led to her womanhood. He began working his tongue in between her open lips. She began to respond to his insinuating action and let his tongue move deep within her mouth. She went further than that. After awhile, she began to suck hard on his tongue and then she let her own tongue shove his back as she exchanged actions. They concentrated on this for some time. Their saliva merged and this spurred the two to further intimacies.

Arthur let his hand drop down to his fly which he unzipped and then he took out his fully erect prick and let it rock-hard six inches slither up between her silky thighs. Just as he had the great head establishing contact with her moist crotch she drew back. He tried to pull her closer so he could achieve entry, but she was resolute. She successfully held him off. Finally, be drew away to glare at her. He waved his erect penis at her in some defiance.

"You scared I'll knock you up, is that it?" He waited for her answer which was forthcoming. She nodded assent. "Okay, okay. I'll run out to the drugstore and get some rubbers!"

"The nearest one is a half mile away," she pointed out. "And my sister is dropping by in less than an hour to bring me some books. We won't have time today ... " "Great," he groaned, holding his stiff poker helplessly in his hand. "And what am I supposed to do with this, huh?" Sandra stared at his manhood a moment, then, she studied his tense young features. She felt sorrow for him. She slowly dropped to her knees. She smiled up at him a moment, then, with infinite tenderness she lifted his penis in her hand and guided the head of it to her full lips. He tensed. He had never felt a woman's mouth upon his cock and the shock was over-powering. But only for the moment. Sandra began running her tongue over the tip of his prick and the thrill was of such magnitude that he shivered from the contact.

Sandra was not the greatest sucking expert by a long sight. She had only performed the act once before upon an older cousin who had forced her to it when she was fifteen. But she had never forgotten the episode and now it stood her in good stead. And as she kissed and sucked at Arthur's virility, she found herself enjoying the action. As he responded to her probing tongue and lips, so did she react. Even before be reached his climax, she had experienced the first orgasm of her life. The young lovers enjoyed the oral experience so much that they spurned the "normal" way and concentrated on the safer more exciting method. They met on many occasions thereafter and rarely failed to engage in fellatio. They kept this up until the very week before Arthur s wife presented him with twins.

This unexpected bonus turned Arthur into an affectionate father and patient husband for several weeks. Then, he began disappearing at strange moments while Doris slowly regained her strength and ability to again engage in sex. Finally, Doris was all set for the renewal of, sex. And by now, she was in the mood for it, herself.

The first sexual encounter between them was fairly satisfying to Doris, but to Arthur it was old hat. Even as he was hammering his penis into her vagina, he could not help but let his thoughts stray to the exciting young fellatist, Sandra. The second session was equally staid to Arthur.

On the fourth night, Doris received a shock. Arthur was sliding his hard organ in and out of her-crotch. Suddenly, he withdrew. She was surprised. Soon, she learned the reason for his move. He lifted himself up and onto her bare breasts. Then, he shoved his hard dick directly at her mouth. She stiffened in shock. She had never done anything as "abnormal" as what he now had in mind. She avoided the big head as he

tried to force his penis into her mouth. They tussled back and forth as he unsuccessfully attempted her to perform the exciting act he craved. "Okay, baby, okay," he muttered as he gave up. "You win." He turned angrily over on his side and pretended to fall asleep while his young Wife stared unhappily into the dark, trying to understand the sudden behavior of her husband.

They made no reference to his act the following day and shortly after they resumed lovemaking the usual style. But this was not enough for Arthur. He couldn't forget the way Sandra's soft, moist lips sucked upon his hard prick, nor the way her darting tongue played round and round on the tip. After those delightful interludes; Doris's staid, conventional sex action was stultifying.

He picked up with Sandra once more and the, mysterious disappearances began as earlier. Doris, now was suspicious. She followed him to Sandra's apartment. He was in there long enough to verify her fears. The second time she trailed him, she waited till he was in for a suitable time and then she crept up to the window that opened onto Sandra's living room. Doris found a narrow chink under the venetian blind and managed to squint into the darkened room. At first, she could discern nothing. Then, she saw the shadowy form of Arthur. He was obviously nude as his penis stood free and clear in silhouette against the kitchen door.

Another shadowy figure moved to him and sank to its knees in front of Arthur. Again, even in the dark, Doris could make out the nude form of Sandra. It was then that Doris received the biggest shock. Sandra began hungrily sucking at Arthur s dick. Her arms wrapped around his naked loins as she sucked his full length into her eager young throat. That was enough for Doris. With a muffled sob, she turned and ran homeward in the dark.

Later when Arthur returned to Doris he found a coldly determined wife. She wasted little time on preliminaries. She told him how she had followed him to Sandra's place and spied inside. She related how she had seen the two in the dark.

"And she was ... was ... " Doris floundered a moment, "well, she was doing it to you with her ... her mouth!"

"So what?" Arthur was furious at being discovered. "That's the way she always did it to me!"

"That makes it right?" Doris was kissing the words at him. "You, a married man with two children ... you running around with a dirty little ... little" she paused. Arthur finished the sentence for her.

"Cocksucker? Is that the word you're afraid to speak?"

Doris made him suffer for his actions. She refused all his attempts at sex and they lived in this vacuum-like condition for several months. Arthur, of course, had to have his release and he picked up with any girl who would go along with his plans. He avoided Sandra after that because it was too dangerous in case, Doris decided to follow him again. But he made up for it with the rest of the young women who crossed his path.

Doris decided to take her own revenge in a different form. The very thought of fellatio was repugnant to her but she knew that this was the way to strike back at Arthur. She systematically performed fellatio on any man who would let her. And it must be admitted that she never cocountered one who wouldn't permit this little intimacy. Before long, Doris had earned the dubious title of "the best little cocksucker in town." The notoriety got to Arthur and he reacted violently. He accused Doris one night of being a cheap pervert and in direct reaction, she slapped him hard across the mouth.

He lost his temper and beat her up savagely. The result was that she suffered severe head injuries and was hospitalized for three days. When she was released she wasted little time in filing for divorce: Needless to relate, she was awarded the divorce and custody of the children.

Doris went home to her parents with the babies while, Arthur quit school and left town. Case History

Helen was happily married to a man ten years her senior. Sy N. was what one would consider a success. He operated a car leasing agency and employed a staff of nine people. Business was good for the hard-working Sy and he established his family in a sixty thousand dollar home in the best part of town.

Helen found herself with too much time on her hands. Sy insisted she have a parttime maid and with present day conveniences in frozen foods and other prepared delicacies, cooking became a task that took a few hours per week at most.

Helen sought for some way to occupy her leisure. She joined the local charity groups she belonged to the bridge club and she made it a point to attend as many cultural affairs as she could. But, still, time hung heavily for her.

Much against Sy's wishes, she insisted on "helping' at his office. Three times per week she would drive to work with him and then offer her services to any of the staff who needed' her aid. She was unable to type, so her help was restricted. The best outlet she could find was to assist in mundane chores such as filing letters and. assisting in the mail campaigns that came up sporadically.

Actually, only one of the staff really welcomed her presence. That lone figure proved to be a young Spanish-American who functioned in a variety of roles. He had finished college and was a good accountant. But there wasn't enough to keep him busy with just that, so he would handle any job that needed doing. On occasion, he even delivered cars to the leasors when things were jammed up.

Sy said over and over that young Les was the single most valuable employee he had. The two men hit it off from the first and a great friendship built up between them. It was only natural that Helen started inviting Les over for dinners and little get togethers at her home. Of course, Sy was always on hand for these, too. Helen really had no ulterior motive in mind ... at first.

The thing that precipitated Helen's interest in the handsome young Latin was a special dinner she had planned for Les and Sy on a Friday evening. Helen busied herself in the kitchen all afternoon, preparing a fanciful tamale casserole she had discovered at a local Mexican dining spot. The chef had graciously given her the recipe and she was all excited at the idea of serving the specialty to her favorite guest.

Dinner was to be served promptly at six. The car agency usually locked its doors a little earlier on Friday to give the employees a chance to get to the bank which stayed open till six on that one evening each week.

At six sharp, the doorbell rang and Helen hurried to see who it could be. Sy would never ring, she knew, and inasmuch as Les was coming home with him at the same time, it had to be some other caller. She was surprised to open the door and find the handsome Les standing there. He hastily explained so she wouldn't worry over Sy's absence.

"Sy got trapped," Les said as he moved inside to politely shake hands with Helen as they always did upon meeting. "The big boss of the electronics plant flew in unexpectedly this afternoon and he insisted Sy go to cocktails with him to settle the deal on the fleet."

Helen's disappointment was compensated in some measure by the knowledge that the particular transaction under question was the single largest fleet negotiation her husband's firm had set up. It called for sixty brand new vehicles per year over a five year span. Needless to say, a. dinner was a small penalty to pay for clinching such a bonanza.

Both Les and Helen decided they would wait at least an hour in hope that Sy might be able to break away from his client. To pass the time, Helen served cocktails and the two friends sat in the living room sipping their drinks and listening to a long-play Mexican record that Tony had presented her with some weeks earlier. The mood was pleasant and the two chatted in the easy fashion of people who like one another.

Shortly before seven o'clock, the phone rang. It was Sy. He was stuck with his client and they were going to a local steak house to have dinner while they threshed out the final details on the big transaction.

"Don't wait for me, hon," Sy said over the phone to Helen. "You and Leg go ahead and eat. I'll get there sometime before midnight, I hope. Explain to Les how it is. And sure to tell him it's a lead-pipe cinch. The deal's as good as in the bag!" Les was disappointed that his best friend was unable to eat with them but he was excited and happy over the fact that the all-vital contract was about to be sealed. They finished their drinks and then Helen served the dinner. She was an excellent cook and she had outdone herself in order to please Les. The tamale casserole was delicious and Les couldn't praise it enough. For dessert, Helen served chilled pineapple cubes in orange liquor and the entire thing was topped off with strong coffee.

Helen looked even more striking than usual. She was wearing a lot cut black gown that accented her full breasts. Her slightest move created an interesting action to the big, milkywhite domes restrained by the tight-fitting fabric. Helen brought out yet another after-dinner drink. This was a brandy from Spain. It was amber-colored and thick. And potent. So potent that when Les took his first sip, he overdid it and had to gasp momentarily for air.

"Man!" he blinked at Helen. "That'll turn anybody on in a big rush, believe me!"

"Really?" Helen studied him. "You mean it affects you?"

"You can say that again," Les chuckled. "One of those and you feel like you want to start singing important documents!"

"Then, I'd better not give any to my Sy," Helen sighed. "That's all he seems to want out of life lately ... just a chance to engage in more business. ".

"You should be happy over it, Helen," Les sai_. "Look bow nicely you're able to live because of Sy's business drive."

"Well, there's more to life than just business," Helen said slowly. "It's not everything ... money, that is."

"No, it isn't," Les agreed. "Good health is at least two percent of it, too!" He chuckled at his own little gag, but Helen's reaction was less.

"I sometimes wish my Les would take it a little easier in business and save some of his strength for me," she sat a little straighter so that her rich breasts looked even fuller. "I don't think he's made love to me for nearly two weeks now." Lea wisely refrained from comment and Helen went on. "I miss romance. After all, I'm a woman

... "

"I'll buy that," Les lifted his glass in admiring manner to her charms. He sipped the rest of the drink. Helen got up and poured his glass full despite his protests. "I'm beginning to get inferiority lately, the way Sy neglects me ... in bed, that is." She eyed Les. "Tell me, Les, does he have another girl on the string somewhere?

Honestly, now?"

"Definitely not! Les leapt to defend his friend. "Sy's in love with you, and you alone. I'd be one of the first to know if he ever had other interests. We work together most of the time as you know. Rest easy, Helen. You've nothing to worry about!" Helen moved over and sat close to him. She peered into his eyes with great intensity. She put her left hand gently on his knee and it was all he could do to pretend that it wasn't affecting him.

"Could it be me, Les?" she asked without taking her eyes from him.

Helen clarified. She was a little nearer and he could smell the fragrance of her perfume. Her great tits were almost touching his arm.

"Helen, if you had any more sex appeal, they'd have to put you behind a glass partition to keep the men away," Les said gallantly. "Take my word for it ... you've got everything! In spades!"

"You're just saying that to make me feel good," Helen shook her head. She lifted her lips to his and gently kissed him. He tensed, then held still. But he made no move to return the action. Helen drew back and sighed. "See ... even my kisses don't get a response!" She shook her head. "Let's face it, I'm all washed up."

"That's not so, Helen!" Les hastily jumped to ease the situation. "Believe me, I've got to fight hard to remember that you're married to my best friend!"

"Okay, Les, okay," Helen said softly. "You've proven that you're faithful to Sy. Now, prove that you can be faithful to me, too." 'She pressed her lips against his once more. Now, she slipped her arms around his shoulders and kissed him with more intent. Her tongue began insinuating its length into his mouth. He tried to clench his lips together tightly to avoid the act, but she worked swiftly and skillfully. She darted her tongue back and forth with remarkable force. Les did his best to end the contact, but she was relentless. She tightened her arms around him and her great breasts were forced upward as she drew him closer. Then, abruptly, she released him and Les thought it was over. Secretly, he was relieved. He didn't like the idea of cheating on his friend, Sy.

"Un-zip me, please," Helen had turned her back to Les and he stared at the creamy whiteness of her shoulders in a semi-dazed manner. She had never indicated any sexual interest in him prior to this moment and-it was more than he could assimilate so swiftly. "Come on, slow-poke," she chided as she waited. Nothing happened. She took matters in her own hands. She deftly reached behind and un-zipped herself. Now, she turned to reveal her magnificent breasts over the semi-bra that helped hold them up. The bra did not cover the nipples and with her left hand she raised one of the massive breasts up toward Les's lips. "Try it for size," she whispered. He was still un-cooperative, so she placed the huge nipple directly against his mouth. From here on, he was lost. He began kissing and sucking at the distended nipples while she pulled his head closer to her bosom. She alternated her breasts back and forth so he could suck each nipple to its fullest. Then, she pulled away and stood up to quickly work the gown down over her ankles and then stepped out, free of everything but her shoes and the semi-bra. She had a great swatch of hair at her loins and she created an impressive sight as she stood before her prospective sex partner.

Les was still the passive one, however, Helen un-zipped his trousers and pulled his prick out. To her chagrin, it was only partially erect. She wisely sensed that he was fighting to his fullest to keep from being too aroused. She began caressing and playing with his organ, but he resolutely managed to keep from an erection. She was determined in her own way. She played and toyed with his vital parts but none of it worked. Frustrated, she stared down at the limp penis. Then, her instinct came to the fore. She dropped her head down to his thighs and caught the bead of his organ between her lips.

It became a test. She kissed and sucked at his manhood as he tried to fight down the lust that was building in his loins. He was resolute. But her warm, moist lips and insistent tongue began to win out. Slowly, slowly, his penis began to enlarge and stiffen. Then, he was lost. Her avid mouth worked round and round as she sucked in his full length. Helen sucked and licked at his organ until he could hold back no longer. In throbbing spurts, his fiery sperm shot forth to be engulfed and swallowed by her hungry mouth.

Afterward, as they were fully recovered, Les told her that they could never again engage in any sexual act whatsoever. She pleaded with him to be sensible about their relationship but he wisely pointed out that sooner or later, Sy would get wind of what they were up to and that would mean the end to a beautiful friendship. "You can't do this to me now, Les," Helen argued. "You've only proven to me how inadequate sexually my Sy really is! Now, that I've seen what a man can do, it makes him look awfully weak!"

"It takes two to tango, Helen," Les said. "Did you ever stop to think that maybe you've been derelict in your sex life with Sy? That maybe you're letting too much of the burden fall on him?" He paused. "Did you ever French him?"

"Why, no," she said. "But he's sort of prudish about sex. I don't know how he'd react to such a move on my part."

"He'd react just like I did," Les said. "I wasn't going to let you get to me. I was determined not to be the one who cheated on his best friend. But once you got your mouth and lips on my sex organs, I was lost. Now, if you'll just turn those same luscious lips loose on your husband's penis, I promise you, he'll be the greatest lover you could want! You give it a try, that's all I ask,"

The upshot of it was that Les proved to be completely accurate in his arguments. Once Helen began turning her oral skills upon Sy, she aroused him to heights he had never reached in all their married years. He wondered where she had learned the new techniques, but she played it casually and. told him she had been reading some books on sexual activity and gotten the idea from there.

As Helen became more skillful with her oral love, Sy stopped wondering over it all and relaxed to become a capable sex partner. Helen never tried to entice him into performing cunnilingus upon her even though she secretly craved it. Her main concern was to see that he was thoroughly aroused and satisfied. Now, for the first time in nearly a dozen years of married life, the two partners found themselves blessed with a far more satisfying sex life. And all because of orality.

Chapter VI

According to a report published by a research team from the Kinsey Institute For Sex Research headed by Paul H. Gebhard, many of our criminal sexual assaults are committed by persons who have developed compulsive habit patterns. Oftentimes, practices developed in early adolescence are difficult to break and are carried into adult years. While some of these people are able to rationally understand what they are doing, they seem neurotically drawn to their compulsive habit patterns and show signs of extreme stress when unable to indulge in their particular obsessions. A classic case was reported recently by a psychiatrist in Ohio concerning a nineteenyear- old boy who masturbated as often as seven or eight times a day. The strange part of it was that he was married to an extremely attractive girl. In his early teens, the young man had resorted to masturbation as an exclusive means of satisfying his sexual appetite (as do most young men), but he began to more and more rely upon the act to relieve various anxieties as he grew older. Finally, the psychiatrist was able to show him that a good deal of his anxieties were caused by the guilt feelings he associated with his masturbatory behavior.

While the subject of the case history we are concerned with in this chapter did not have any trouble in adapting to heterosexual contacts, the extreme fascination he developed for oral love-making could label him a compulsive oralist. It is extremely unusual to find one so young as he becoming so affixed to a particular aberration, but the circumstances from which he drew his earliest experiences had a large part in forming his later preferences.

Case HISTORY: Clark R., Age 16.

There's nothing more out of sight to a chick than getting head. I should know. I've had lots of chicks tell me that. they'd rather get head from me than ball any ten guys.

I guess I've got a tricky tongue or something."

All this from a fifteen-year-old entrepreneur of the erotic arts. But Clark has had more experience in the oral aspects of lovemaking than most people twice his age. He had an excellent instructress.

Clark lives in a low-middle income housing project with his father. The youngest of four children, he has been pretty much on his own since he was eleven, his mother having passed away several years before, and the last of his elder sisters leaving home to be married at that time. His father is a construction worker and away from home when Clark gets out of school, leaving the youngster several hours to himself. It was from his next door neighbor that Clark received his early sex education. Marge was no mean novice when it came to seducing young boys: her husband had divorced her after a dispute that arose from an incident involving a neighborhood youth. He had come home early from work one day and found his wife performing fellatio upon a thirteen-year-old boy. Subsequent to the divorce, Marge had undergone several years of intensive psychiatric care before she had come to reject her therapy sessions and had moved to another city to start afresh. Securing a job

as an operator and renting a small home next door to Clark's, she went into a life of semi-seclusion. She dated infrequently, having little interest in men her own age. She preferred to spend her idle hours at her small home which she shared with her miniature poodle, Arnold.

But there was more to her non-working time than Arnold. One of the prime reasons she had taken the training to become a telephone operator was due to the fact that she could arrange her working hours so that she could often work nights, leaving her days free to participate in her favorite pastime-hunting out young boys to seduce. The urge had been too powerful for even her lengthy therapy to cure; the desire was as strong as ever. And, as any psychologist can tell you, the desire to change one's behavior must be present in order to effect a change.

This time, Marge was much more careful in her screening of applicants for her matronly attentions. Not wanting to risk another embarrassing situation as had developed in her home town, she was very cautious in her approach, trying to hint around with the various boys she engaged in conversations from time to time, trying to pry information from them. This way she was able to decide whether or not the boy had previous experiences in sexual matters, not wanting to take the chance of seducing a complete novice who might suddenly balk and wind up exposing her secret to a parent.

There had been Tommy. Tommy, the fourteen-year-old newsboy who proved to be not nearly as experienced as he had boasted, but then that's the way all teenaged boys were anyway ... men too, Marge concluded. But he had worked out pretty well, what with her expert training. Damned shame his folks had moved to another part of town just when she was getting him to be a cunning cunnilingust, as she called those that qualified for one of her higher honors. The new newsboy was just too young ...

maybe eight or nine. Anyway, he looked like an overly-plump Mouseketeer or something.

Then there was Eddie, the kid that cut her lawn once in a while. Too eager-getting to be like the older men that she disdained. All ego and no orgo. Demanding and rough. He still did in a pinch.

Other times, she had picked boys up in the park, offering them financial rewards for their endeavors. But on her tight income that carne to be a little expensive. Besides, it was sort of risky where total strangers were involved.

What she really needed was a novice-that was the biggest kick, teaching an initiate all the facts. At least all the facts she wanted them to know. Marge had a specialty ... oralism.

There was nothing better than teaching a young boy the proper way to worship the female, how to adore her with his lips and tongue. But it was so risky with the unlearned ... where could she find someone to suit her purpose? Then she spotted Clark.

He was young, going on thirteen at the time. She had talked to him several times across the backyard fence and he sure seemed to be more interested in baseball than bosoms. Perfect! She could get him interested. But it had just been during the last few weeks that she had given him any consideration as far as sexual matters. He was at that early stage of adolescence where boys shoot up like weeds overnight. He was losing his baby fat in the process, retaining just enough to give him that childish appearance that she was crazy for. And that slob of an old man of his worked late ... it could be worked out just perfectly.

That is, if she could get Clark to see it that way.

As it is with the best laid plans, they usually work out better by chance. And just by chance one day, Arnold scampered out the front door and escaped as Marge was leaving to go to the market. And just by chance, Clark was walking up his driveway upon his return from school. As Clark tells it:

"I was walking up the driveway, coming back from school when that little dog came yapping up to me. Belonged to the lady next door-one of those Pygmy Poodles. Never liked those dogs. Prowler comes, and those damn dogs just run around in circles and piss all over themselves. Anyway, about that time the lady that owned the dog yells out for me to catch him, so I threw down my books and picked the little shit up ... yapping and pissing at me all the time, So I go on over to take him back to her. Man, I hadn't really noticed that chick before! Maybe it was just that I was just starting to get into digging broads, I'm not sure. Whatever ... she was really an out of sight old broad. She had on one or those knit jersey tops and her lungs would've broken right through it if she took a deep breath. She was a little heavy through the hips, but they were nice and curved. She had on shorts and I could see that she had some really neat hips. Knocked me out.

"So I handed her dog back, and she puts him inside and shuts the screen door on him and starts rapping with me. Now remember, this was a few years back-I didn't have too much experience then. Man, I must've been like twelve ... almost thirteen. I mean, I had heard a lot of stories from my friends, and once, when I was about nine or so, my cousin had dropped her drawers to let me see what it looked like. That wasn't too neat though-she was only around seven then. So the way this lady comes on ... well, I, just sort of played into her hands since I didn't know too much about sex or anything.

"She started asking me about different things, like what a 'handsome young man like yourself' did for kicks. So I guess I told her about baseball and a lot of-stupid crap like that ... dumbo for sure. Somehow we got to talking about school and I told her what a tough time I had with math. Well, she tells me that she knows all about math,- that she was a whiz at it in her school days and asks me if I'd like a little help. Sounded like a pretty good idea to me-I hated math, and about the only help my old man ever gave me was to tell me that he'd beat the shit out of me if my grades didn't go up soon. I ran over to pick up the books I'd thrown down when I got her dog, and came back to her house and went inside.

"As I sat there on her living room couch, while she went to the kitchen to fix us some iced tea, I had a funny feeling come over me. Like I had some kind of a flash that she wanted more from me than just to help me with my homework. It was a little scary, since I didn't know one thing about doing it, yet I was kind of hoping .she might want to show me what it all really adds up to, if you know what I mean.

"She came back into the living room with a big glass of tea for both of us, and sat down next to me on the couch. She crossed her legs and I couldn't help but suck in some air when I saw that skin close-up like that. She had a good tan-I'd seen her in her backyard sometimes in her swimsuit, with just a few blue veins showing through like older chicks get after a while. I don't know why, but seeing the veins under a chick's skin has gotten me all shaken up ever since then. Couple years later, I ate out this chick who had been knocked up by this friend of mine. She was about seven months gone, and those veins running across her swelled gut just about blew my mind.

"We didn't get down to the homework right away. We just sat and rapped. She told me she was divorced, where she worked-all that. I guess I was giving her just a little too much of the 'respect your elders' crap that my mom had taught me, 'cause she told me to quit calling her Ma 'am and to call her Marge. As time went on, I never could get her to tell me her exact age, but she was somewhere around thirty-five.

She was real uptight about it.

"We finally got around to the homework. She took one look at the book and about shit-she didn't know it was the new math. Like to me, it's the same old lousy math, but to the old times it's new. I don't think she was too interested in helping me with my homework anyway-it was just an excuse to get me inside. What we ended up doing was the best homework I ever did.

"Then she started asking me some questions, kind of hinting around about things, you know. She asked me if I had any girl friends, and when I told her 'no' she really acted surprised. I'm not sure exactly how the conversation went, but the next thing I know we're talking about sex. She was rapping on about things I'd never heard of but I pretended to be hip and just sort of nodded my head. She asked me if I ever had any. Well, the only thing I could think of was that time with my cousin when I was younger. Only I lied a little and told her that I got to feel my cousin up a bit ... that kind of stuff.

"Marge smiled and threw her head back in her amusement, and those giant tits popped out, liking to break right out of the material. She told me that it was obvious that I had a lot of learning to do. I was pretty shy in those days, so I guess I must've blushed a little or something. Well, before I could tell what was happening, she reached over and hugged me up close to those big tits. I had expected them to be sort of hard, but they were nice and soft and springy. I get kind of confused about what happened next-I got too caught up with feeling those big jugs up against my face, but I know that she started coming on to me about how she could show me lots more than I knew-as long as I wouldn't squeal to my old man or anything. So I assured her that everything would be cool and she told me to follow her to her bedroom.

"When we got inside the bedroom, she started pulling her top up slowly, revealing those big tits. I never thought that nipples were so big, but she sure changed that idea in a hurry. She had the longest one's I'd ever seen-it looked to me that they were longer than an inch, but then a lot of that was due to my excitement at seeing them. I think the outside rims (areola) must've been bigger than most girls' tits. Just like eggs-sunny side up.

"She sat down on the bed, tits flopping down almost to her knees, and motioned me over. I think I tripped over my feet, I was so intense on those mothers of hers. When I got over to the bed, Marge reached out and grabbed my hands and pulled me down on her. Next thing I know, I'm staring straight into the front end of a Cadillac. Somehow I just started my tongue going-instinct or something, and right from there my famous mouth got its start. While I captured one of her tits In between my teeth, Marge started laughing to beat hell and said that she could tell I was a natural born lover.

"She let me have my way for a little while, just smothering my face in those big pink pillows, my tongue working overtime all around them. It was a real trip, the way they were soft and yet firm at the same time, sort of springy like.

"I could feel my prick getting stiff inside my jeans, and she must have sensed my arousal 'cause she pushed me back and I fell to my knees so that I was kneeling on the floor between her legs. She then hooked her thumbs in her shorts and started pushing them down slowly. Pretty soon, it was obvious that Marge wasn't wearing any panties. I about came in my jeans as I watched the white rolls of skin beneath the darker line where she was tanned appear. As my eyes came in contact with her silky dark pubes, I sniffed up the strong aroma of her cunt-a smell that has since driven me out of my gourd every time. From out of that pubic jungle stared her inviting pink lips. Marge didn't have to say a word. I just looked up to her and she nodded for me to continue. I didn't have to be told twice what to do.

"It was later that she told me how she liked to have her cunt scarfed. I just was continuing what I had already started upstairs. It never occurred to me how I was playing right into her hands. Or pussy. Whatever. It just seemed so natural anyway. Maybe if she had played me into whipping her or something like that I would've done that ... I'm not sure. This being my initiation, I was game for anything concerning sex. But I'm glad it worked out the way it did, 'cause I just came by eating snatch naturally and I've been hung up on it ever since. And it's something that practically every chick really craves, so it's worked out real well for me.

"She helped me, clasping her hands behind my head to guide my tongue to the target. I reached up to spread the lips of her twitching cunt as Marge instructed me to go to work on her trigger. Her clit was already stiff-I was fascinated by the sight of it and the big purple-pink fold underneath it. Her clit wasn't very big, but I really had nothing to compare it with .at the time. One girl I met later, Eve, had a clit that was longer than some guys' pricks ...

"I went to work around her trigger and soon Marge was yanking hard on my hair in her excitement. I was getting pretty excited myself and I knew I couldn't hold on much longer. A lot of guys I've talked to lately say that they don't get too turned on by eating a chick, but that they do it so that the chick can get her kicks. Me ... I don't even need any ass. Just as long as there's plenty of cunts around for me to scarf. Just doing that is enough for me to get my load. And most chicks I've talked to say that I can do the job better than anyone they know. I think it's for two reasons: I've got an extra long tongue that can practically tie itself in a knot; and I really enjoy my work.

"After I had worked Marge's clit for a couple of minutes, I suddenly felt her body tense. I pulled back a little, looking up between those mountains of hers. Her eyes were all glassy and her face was frozen into a weird grin. Just about as soon as she had stiffened up, her whole body slumped and I felt some hot liquid on the side of my face. Man, when old Marge came, she came in quarts! I've heard a lot of bullshit about how chicks don't shoot off like a guy. That may be true, but I haven't found one broad yet that stayed dry long after my tongue went to work on her.

"Well, when I realized what I'd done-making that old chick turn on like that, I shot my load off in my pants. Now, I've heard a lot of talk about masochists and shit like that, and that a guy like me must be one. You know, the whole bit about being submissive and. catering to the chick's whims. Well I don't happen to figure it that way. See, it's like this: what I do to a chick makes them go absolutely nuts, right? The chick digs it so much that she goes out of her way to please me ... some of them end up begging me to do it again. So the way I see it is that I have control over them, not the other way around. And that's what makes me make it. Every time has been like that first time with Marge, when I-realize what I can do to a broad with my cute little old tongue. So once a broad is making it and going crazy ... I make it. That's the straight shit.

"Once we had both relaxed for a while, Marge hoisted me up and began to undo my pants. She started giggling when she saw my sticky shorts and saw that I had already made it. Then she reclined on the bed and pulled me on top of her, guiding me through my first lay. I was sort of disappointed that I hadn't been able to get my tongue up inside her cunt yet, but it was a trip balling her too. She showed me how to keep my mouth active while were making it ... love bites, blowing in her ears, trenching. It wasn't long, her grinding those fat hips against my pounding balls, before we both made it again. This time, the build-up inside my guts were even stronger than the first time-almost like when you've got to piss real bad, and when I came I just kept going like a machine gun until I could hardly move. Since that was my first ball, it left me a little weak, so I just rolled off Marge and collapsed while she ran her hands gently up and down my body.

"I must've gone to sleep for a few minutes, 'cause the next thing I knew there was a tickling sensation around my balls. I looked up and saw that piss-ant dog sniffing around my balls and yipping like crazy. I looked over at Marge, and she was laughing her fucking brains out. Well, I didn't much go for that dwarf dog messing around my jewels, so I slowly raised up my leg and kicked him away. Marge gave me an angry look, and told me not to ever do that again. She cuddled the little mutt up against her tits, telling me that he was just cruising my box out of curiosity. She said he couldn't help acting that way 'cause she had taught him how. When I asked her what she meant, she gave me the damnedest demonstration I'd ever seen. "Sitting up on the bed with her legs spread wide, Marge placed Arnold down on the bedspread between her thighs. For such a stupid looking dog, Arnold sure knew what to do next. He started sniffing and licking around Marge's cunt, wagging his tail and yipping all the while. Now it was my turn to crack up-it was one of the funniest things I'd ever seen. She'd actually taught that damned mutt how to give her kicks in case nobody else was around. Marge was giggling her ass off at first as it must have tickled, but before long Arnold's tongue had her panting and moaning. Man, I'd heard the story about the lady and her St. Bernard, but I never really thought it was possible! It was too bad that Arnold was such a little shit, otherwise he could have lucked her too.

"I kind of wonder if Arnold really knew what was going on. The way his ass was pivoting around it seemed like he might actually be turned on by the whole scene. Marge finally had to give him a little help, reaching down with her hands and spreading her lips a little so that his tongue could hit the button. Arnold dove in farther, yipping louder than ever. It wasn't long before Marge's eyes were bulging again, as her body started jumping from another Big O.

"Marge pushed Arnold away and fell back to the bed exhausted. Before I could make a move, the little son of a bitch was back over by my cock sniffing around. Well, I don't give a damn how old Marge got her kicks-I wasn't going for it. All his snorting and drooling for me was tickle. Besides, he might have taken a big nip out of my cock or something.

"Marge opened her eyes and saw that I wasn't going for it, so she crawled down and put her lips to my cock. That was more like it! It was a really fantastic feeling, much better than a regular ball. Her mouth seemed to be so much more maneuverable than her cunt. Her tongue sliding up and down my cock, tickling the sensitive skin at the base. Her lips forming around my head, tightening and relaxing. Her hot breath blowing, sucking.

"I could' feel my guts tightening up fast. I grabbed at her hair, twisting it strongly in my fingers, and lay back as far as I could. Marge was an expert: using her fingers around my balls while she plunged her whole neck along my cock. I would have thought she would choke to death on it, but she told me later that the gag reflex is diminished during times of arousal and all. I'm sure glad I don't swing gay myself, 'cause in spite of what Marge says about it, I'm sure I would choke to death sucking a cock.

"When I made it this time, it was about ten times better than the other. I really blew my cookies. It kind of shocked me, the way Marge just kept sucking away. You know the dirty stories when you're just a kid about a girl who swallows come is about the raunchiest thing going? Well, up till then that's the way I had felt. But it was a really beautiful thing the way she did it. Made you feel really strong.

"After that first time, I was over at Marge's every chance I got. She taught me just about everything I know as far as sex goes. Arnold finally got into an act with me-it wasn't too bad after the tickling sensation was over, but he never got me to the point of blowing my cookies. Usually when Marge and I made it together, she would let him in on her box, though. The more I saw of it, the more I was convinced that he was getting some kind of a turn on out of it. Or whatever dogs get.

"The more times Marge and I got together, the less we balled. After' a few weeks, we limited everything to our mouths. Marge told me about other boys she had done it with in the past, and confessed that I was the only one that she had given any head. She always preferred to be the taker instead of the giver. But she figured that I gave her so much it was only right to return the favor, I guess.

"As I grew older, I began to date other chicks, but I still returned to Marge from time to time for my regular lessons. Besides, she was a real convenience living right next door to me like that. I soon learned that the word got around about a cat who could give head like me. Wow, I've had chicks come up to me in places like the school cafeteria and try to play up to me. If they're built for action, I usually end up in the sack with them, and many have later told me that they were a friend of so-and-so's and. that they had heard about my famous tongue.

"The only trouble I've ever run into was when chicks want a straight fuck and nothing else. Now usually I can change a chick's mind pretty fast once my tongue has gone to work, but there's been a couple of them who thought. it was weird' that I didn't want to ball them. One chick, after grooving behind the head I'd given her, was a real problem. Like once I've done a job on them, I sort of leave it up to them as to whether or not they want to go down on me. Like I said, I can get my rocks off just from scarfing the broad so it doesn't really matter if I get any more action or not. But this one chick practically insisted that I ball her. When I told her to go down on me instead, she refused saying that she didn't dig that. So, I climbed aboard, but the damnedest fucking thing happened-I couldn't get a hard-on. Like maybe it was because she had turned me off with all her arguments or something ... I don't really know. But the fact is, I don't really dig balling all that much anymore. Not when there's something so much better.

"The scene with that chick sort of bothered me for a while, but after a few days I just figured that. it was her problem and not my own. Most chicks go completely wild over it. In fact, one chick got so excited about it that she shit right in my face while I was eating her. That turned me off real quick. Like I don't mind rimming a girl's asshole for her-I kind of dig it, but shit in the face is just a little too much, if you know what I mean.

"Besides that one chick, the only other problem I've had in the past couple of years happened last summer when my old man and I went on a vacation. My old man's idea of a really swell time is to go up north to a lake and sit in a boat with a fishing rod in his hands while he gets eaten alive by mosquitoes. I dig to get eaten, but not by mosquitoes! So he pulls me along with him every fucking year. Well, being stranded with my old man, I didn't have a chance to go out and find some scarf able chicks, and I was practically climbing the walls. Like if I don't have some box lunch at least a couple of times a week, I go practically nuts. As soon as I got home, I made a beeline to Marge's. I must've chowed down ten times that night. I don't know what I'd do if I didn't have a box around to scarf. Probably wind up shooting myself."

COMMENT:

Clark R. came to our attention shortly after a situation in which a thirteen-year-old girl had balked at his sexual advances. She had hurried home when she tearfully reported the incident to her parents. The horrified parents notified the authorities and Clark was picked up. After questioning, the authorities decided to put him under the care of a court-appointed psychiatrist.

Despite Clark's statement to the contrary, his form of devotion to his female companions was a sign of some latent masochism on his part. True, he was able to turn it around to his advantage in most instances, delighting in the way he was able to control the emotions of his lovers. What Clark wasn't able to realize was that his particular form of lovemaking was beginning to become an obsession with him and was, in a sense, his way of "getting even" with his mother. He subconsciously felt she had cheated him of her love when she had died. The psychiatrist was able to show him that his habit had begun to take on abnormal proportions when he started to narrow his sexual appetite to exclusive orality. Evidence of this fact has been his failure to achieve an erection for vaginal coitus with the one girl.

Although Clark began to understand his particular problem, as of this writing h_ has been unable to alter his habitual sexual pattern of orality. Psychiatrists today are finding their hands more than full when dealing with the Hew morality, especially among teenagers. Precocious children, such as Clark, find it hard to relate to people twice their age or older, many of whom have less pragmatic sexual experiences than their own. Perhaps the ultimate solution will come only after the laws are gradually changed to fit the morality shift.

As for Arnold? Little hope. He'll just have to be content with his particular doggiestyle for the time being. The history of Mankind reveals that sexual deviations have been practiced through the ages. Oral love has ranked high in the various expressions of release. At one time oral love was considered to be "Immoral." Today, it is openly accepted and practiced. Not only that, but never and more exciting versions of this sexplay have been added to the original repertoire. Due to the fact that oral love has become a more or less standard form of procedure in sex among both married and unmarried couples, some of the "forbidden" allure has vanished form the act. This has prompted. a large percentage of its exponents to experiment with new and more exciting variations on the theme. The case histories that follow concern some of the more unusual of these practices and the couples who turned to them for even greater gratification ...

Case HISTORY

Ben H. had been a reserved 'lad most of his life. It wasn't until he was twenty-three that he really began to lose his shyness. With good reason. He met Sandy S., a lovely beauty contest winner and was tremendously attracted to her. Timidity, he realized, would not be of much value in catching the lovely Sandy's attention. Sandy liked him. His sensitive approach appealed to her. As a matter of fact, had Ben behaved in the more aggressive fashion of most young men, she very well might have discouraged the relationship. By the time Ben had managed to lose much of his shyness, Sandy and he were good friends.

The two dated for several weeks before Ben made a real pass at the lovely object of desire. This was brought on by some remarks he had heard at the County Courthouse where he worked as a recording clerk for the claims department. There was a news photo of Sandy in her Bikini accepting the trophy as "Miss Lake County." The picture showed clearly why she was selected. Beneath the beautiful face an even more lovely figure bloomed. Sandy had breasts that measured thirty six inches with hips of precisely the same measurements. Her waist was a willowy twenty-one inches. But what set her just one more notch higher than the other candidates were her legs. They were her finest feature. Not the pole-like limbs of a "Twiggy." They were full and curved. Set off by black, high-heeled pumps, they could arouse a Franciscan Friar to passion.

"Now, that's real eating stuff," sighed one of the young men, ogling Sandy's charms. He and another co-worker were admiring the girl's beauty unaware that Ben was in the next row of file cases and within hearing distance.

"Yeah ... " the other agreed. "Anybody who'd put his dick into Sandy S. oughta be given the electric chair!" He sighed. "I tried to date her a dozen times but she always stalled me!"

"Maybe she knew you wanted to eat her," the other taunted.

"I got news for you," the friend responded. "That wouldn't hold her back. I just happen to know a guy who muffed her! Not once, but a few times! But after a few times, she started brushing him."

Maybe the poor guy's tongue was taking too much of a licking!" They both laughed at this pun and moved out of the room where Ben still stood. Ben was shocked at the talk. He had the uncomfortable feeling that there was more truth than fantasy to what he had heard. Mingled with his reaction of shock was a strange feeling of excitement. The thought of his own bps pressed up to Sandy's lovely young vulva was not to be too lightly dismissed. He became fascinated with the idea of oral love and made a trip to a certain "art" store where books on the more fascinating elements of human behavior could be purchased. He found one on oral love that went into clinical detail on all aspects of the expression. Most of the reading proved to be a bit too scientific for Ben's satisfaction but he did glean some tips that he hoped might stand him m good stead should he ever succeed in getting Sandy into the position of acceptance. He re-read these portions over and over to impress them in his mind. To further insure success, he practiced what the book outlines in the privacy of his bathroom. He did not have the beauteous Sandy there to indulge his talent upon, so he was forced to settle for a compromise: two large pieces of beef liver sewn into a plastic bag in two separate compartments. The opening that resulted from this handiwork closely paralleled a woman's vaginal opening. Now, Ben began practicing the art of Cunninlingus, utilizing the "tricks" revealed in the volume he had purchased.

He dated Sandy during this interlude but never could quite muster up enough nerve to do more than kiss her good night. His first real chance came at his own place. He had invited Sandy to have a "home-cooked" dinner with him. As usual, they got along famously. Sandy sincerely liked Ben and she knew how attractive he found her. The dinner proved to be a very fine one. Ben was a good cook and he had gone to special pains to produce a remarkable beef stroganoff main dish. After coffee, and as they were sipping brandy, Ben suddenly found the courage to express his true feelings about her. He told the girl that she meant more to him than any other person he had ever encountered.

"And I like you, too, Ben," she said.

"It's a lot more than liking, Sandy," he whispered. "A whole lot more. I want you to start thinking of me as a ... as a, well ... fiance!"

"But we hardly know each other" she was a little taken aback by this open declaration.

"I know all about you I need to know," he said. This, it proved, was truer than she suspected. "I want you for my own!"

Under his confession of love, and the warming effects of the brandy, Sandy mellowed. She told Ben that she was interested in him and she would continue dating him. Then, after a reasonable period of time she would be sure and in turn, he would be sure about her.

"But I'll go out of my mind in the meantime!" He shook his head. "Sandy, you don't know what you do to a guy! I don't think I can hold back that long!" They chatted on and on. They sipped more brandy and it was then that Ben whispered his desire into the girl's ear. He confided that he wanted to kiss her body.

Every inch of it.

"I'll start at your toes and work on up all the way to the top of your lovely head!" "Ben!" she was startled to hear him talking like this, "I've never seen you behaving like this! What's come over you?"

"Your beauty," he whispered. "It's too much ... please '" won't you slip off your

clothes and let me have the pleasure of your loveliness ... "

Sandy demurred, but not quite as positively as she might have if she hadn't had three glasses of brandy. It was at this stage that Ben took the initiative. He began slipping her dress down from her shoulders. Sandy resisted, but not too much. She was not wearing a bra and the next thing she knew, Ben's hungry lips were kissing her breasts. Soon, he was working his tongue around the nipples and they began growing tense and larger. Ben worked diligently away and next succeeded in slipping the dress off all the way. Her filmy panties were removed after this and Sandy found herself gently pushed back onto the divan. Then, she felt Ben's hot mouth searching out her vulva. After a few moments, she was surprised to find Ben withdrawing his tongue. He called back to her to not move. He would rejoin her in an instant. She had no idea what he was doing and after a few minutes he reappeared. He was bearing a small porcelain bowl which was half full of steaming brandy. He placed the container on the coffee table near them and then struck a match which he held to the hot brandy. Instantly, it caught fire and a deep, blue glow played over the liquid. He let it burn a few seconds, then snuffed the flame out. Now, he took the hot brandy and took a big mouthful. It was hot, but he bore the pain stoically. He did not swallow the potent fluid, but with silent gestures, motioned Sandy back in the proper position. Now, he placed his tightly closed mouth up firmly against her vaginal opening. Carefully, he worked his oral area further inside her moist, hot womanliness. He wiggled his face gently to form a solid seal between her vagina and his mouth. Then, and only then, did he begin spurting the fiery brandy, drop by drop into her quivering cavity. He would spurt and then suck back part of the exciting liquid. He repeated this with increased speed so that the hot brandy would not cool down too much. Long before he had depleted his supply of the stimulating liquid, Sandy underwent seven full orgasms.

From this point on, Ben used other fluids besides brandy. He experimented with wines, whiskeys and sweet liqueurs. He also learned that the hotter the liquid was, the greater the thrill for his lovely partner. As his tongue and mouth became more accustomed to the hot spirits he began to branch out. He was soon able to mouth hot rubbing alcohol which created a tremendous aphrodisiac effect upon Sandy. Ben learned that he had to exercise unusual care not to swallow any of the rubbing fluid. Even a few drops caused nausea and stomach pain; But the result was so electrifying upon his partner that he could not resist favoring this method. It is interesting to note that the un-attainable Sandy married him shortly after this series of experiments. Most of the people who were acquainted with the two newlyweds were puzzled how a shy, retiring young man like Ben could captivate such a stunning, sought-after beauty. Ben had a reply that revealed much more of his secret than one would suspect: "-You can get anything you want ... once you put yourself up to it!" He did not reveal what it was precisely that he put up ... nor to just what it was put up against.

Case HISTORY

The Pettiss were the average middle-aged American couple. Rick had married Jan when he was twenty-five and she was twenty-two. They had a girl baby one year after the wedding. After this, something went amiss and despite considerable efforts in the bedroom, Jan was unable to conceive again. They sought advice from specialists but nothing came from it. Reluctantly, they settled down to raise their daughter to be an "only child." Sharon turned out quite well despite the adulation from her parents. She had several good chances at marriage, but decided she wasn't ready. After graduation, she enlisted in the Peace Gorps and spent two years in Peru.

During her absence, the Pettis found their love growing rather routine. They heard other couples hinting at oral love and at first, they dismissed the thought. But ultimately, the experimented and soon, it became the principal form of pleasure for them. By the time Rick was forty-two and Sharon thirty-nine, they had fairly well exhausted the varying methods of orality. Like ordinary sex, it had slowly begun to seem routine. Until one special night!

A combination of circumstances brought it all about. First, a violent and sudden electrical storm had arisen near midnight. Their six year old cocker spaniel, Rusty, was in terror of these storms and Sharon had permitted him to sleep at the foot of their bed instead of his usual spot in the kitchen. She let Rusty into their room and he cowered there during the storm. About two in the morning, Sharon got out of bed to open the windows because the storm had subsided and only a distant rumble of thunder could be heard as the wind died down. She stood at the window, stretching her arms upward and inhaling the fresh, rain-washed air. Suddenly, she felt Rick's arms stealing around her waist. He had gotten out of bed to quietly steal close. His hands roved and began to move toward her breasts. She had filled out considerably since her youth, but as far as Rick was concerned, it was all to the good. Soon, he had her negligee off and his own pajamas joined hers on the carpeted floor. His mouth expertly sought her nipples and he began sucking them. He dropped to his knees and now his lips were nibbling at her loins. He drew her down with him. He lay backward with J an facing the direction of his feet. This was one of their favorite positions for oral love. As Rick sucked and kissed and worked his tongue in and out of her vagina, she bent down and began kissing his penis which was fully erect. Then, she worked her lips down and around the length of it. They had engaged in the pastime so often, that it seemed "old hat" and orgasm would be a long time arriving for both.

Suddenly, a new element was introduced. Jan felt something at her anus. At first she thought it was Rick using his finger, then, it dawned on her that it was Rusty, their dog. She felt his tongue licking at her anal opening. She was about to break the embrace with Rick and order the animal out but she hesitated. The long, wet tongue felt good as it licked at her rectum. She permitted the action to proceed. But then, Rick realized he had a partner sharing Jan's charms. He sat up and was about to command the pet to leave when Jan stopped him.

"-Don't Rick. It's not Rusty's fault." She added. "Besides, it felt good!" Suddenly, a strange thrill played up and down her spine. "Let's have a little fun with Rusty!" Rick was aroused enough to agree to this. Now, Jan lay on her back and lifted her thighs. Rusty sniffe-a bit and then moved in closer. As his tongue started licking her vaginal opening she wrapped her legs around the dog's body and drew him closer. His long tongue played over her clitoris and she was aroused to sexual frenzy such as she had not experienced in many years. Jan worked away with the dog until her passion was at its greatest, then she pushed the animal away and had Rich take his place. Barely had Rick let his tongue slide into her vagina when orgasm occured. It proved to be one of the most lasting and powerful ones she had undergone. After that evening, Rusty was brought in for further oral love play. He soon learned to run his tongue over Rick's penis as well as into Jan's receptive loins. They also trained him to lick their respective anal openings for further excitement. Rusty's spot in the kitchen was soon a thing of the past. He slept at the foot of her bed every night where he was available for the enhancement of any sex activity that might come up. Oral love, without the excited Rusty to participate, seemed a bit dull to both people and they admitted it openly.

There is a fairly amusing aftermath to this particular case. Rusty succeeded in arousing such frenzy in his masters with his oral activities that they resorted to many unusual poses to attain greater gratification. Sometimes, they slipped far enough to have ordinary man-woman intercourse as the interested animal sniffed at the gyrating pair. On her fortieth birthday, Jan found herself pregnant! After all the years of frustration in having another baby, they finally attained their goal long after they were ready for it! Jan delivered a normal eight pound baby boy to the amazement of all her friends. But in her own words: "Better late than never!"

The End

The Many Ways Of Sex Between Women & Boys

Foreword

Sexual unions between mature women and young boys is, and always has been, an intriguing subject. We wondered about it, then asked a varied group of people why this was true, if indeed they subscribed to our thoughts. Here are a few opinions we acquired:

A thirty-three year old woman who admits to numerous affairs with boys between the ages of 14 to 17.

"I always feel like their teacher - like I was really contributing something to them - and that's probably why I come so great with them." A psychologist; faculty member at a California College.

"These affairs were once traditional among some cultures, and still are to a large degree. The reason? Well, there are many, some peculiar to the individuals involved which limits any generalizations, but I would say there are some basic reasons that are involved in some manner in most of these cases:

"For the women - they feel effective with the young, even 'powerful' with some elements of maternalism expressed through this manifestation.

"And for the boys; consciously, the mature woman is a 'safe' yet desirable partner,

while on the unconscious level they are serving Oedipal leanings." The sixteen-year-old son of an elementary school teacher.

"Because they're the easiest to make - nothing's involved except being ready when she is. And not getting caught!"

The thirty-eight-year old adulteress wife of a busy fundamentalist preacher. "They're so young... so innocent... they are going to be so hurt by the world that they need my love now."

We do not know the psychological validity of these personal statements. They could be a put-on, but we rather doubt this, for, as publisher-observers of the contemporary socio-sexual scene, we come in contact with evidence of an enormous number of branding iron-hot affairs which are currently being executed between women and boys. And, as publishers we have the responsibility to communicate the lucid details of these affairs by way of the Cameo Sex Reality Series format of hardhitting personalized case histories.

We've done just that.

We hope that you, the sophisticated readers of twenty-one years or more, will accept the responsibility to read this work through to the very last page. There are insights to be gained; a little more knowledge of the sexual world around us to be considered.

The Publisher

North Hollywood, California

September, 1971

NOTE

The lucid details of the case histories in this report preclude the true identity of the individuals involved, therefore, all names have been changed.

Chapter ONE

Her name was Edna White. She was thirty-five years old, unmarried, a junior high school teacher of considerable ability, pretty in an unpretentious way, totally uninterested sexually in men her age, but inordinately fond of young boys. Because of her job, she had to take great pains to protect herself. It would be totally unthinkable to let it get around that she had an almost compulsive need to be fucked by fourteen-year-old boys. Fifteen-year-olds and sixteen-years-olds were acceptable to her, even the seventeen-year-olds on occasion, but she most definitely preferred the younger cocks. There was something about a fourteen-year-old boy, no matter what he looked like, that turned on Miss Edna White to the point where she was ready and eager to do anything sexual to and with him. Of course this had to be done discreetly, preferably after dark, at her home or some other such place where no one would be apt to discover them as she fucked and sucked the boy half out of his mind.

School was out. It was the latter part of the month of June... and Edna White had a throbbing pussy.

She stood on the porch of her small home on the outskirts of town and stared at the cars passing by, her mind working hard on a solution to her present problem - how to entice a young boy into her home before the day came to an end. She had no idea of how long she stood there - time had a way of marching swiftly by when Edna was caught up in the grip of cock fever. Finally, however, she turned to enter the house and at the same time she heard a car pull into her driveway. Turning around, she stared at the car as it came to a halt and a young boy climbed out of it. Her tongue ran across her full lips as she looked him up and down. The boy was a stranger to her - she was sure she had never seen him at school, and this was excellent for she preferred boys from schools other than her own. He was blond, about five feet ten inches tall and of medium build. As he strode toward the porch, Edna White sucked in air quickly. He had a decided sexy look about him that was quickly apparent to her experienced eyes.

He stopped just short of the first step of the porch, looked up at her and smiled warmly. He was, she thought, a very handsome youngster.

"Hello," he said. "I'm looking for a summer job. Have you any lawn work... or anything... I could do?" His eyes were very blue and his gaze direct.

Edna smiled down at him in just the right manner; friendly without being too friendly immediately; prettily without seeming too flirtatious; sensuously without permitting it to be brazen. "Come inside," she invited, taking care to sound quite proper. "Let's talk about it. As a matter of fact, I've been looking for someone to do lawn work, shrubbery trimming, that sort of thing." She opened the door and stepped inside the house, while he caught the door and held it for himself as he entered. She had the air conditioning on and was glad of it - it gave her a reason to close the front door and lock it, which she did without the boy noticing it.

"Sit down, please," she said to him, indicating a chair that rested directly in front of the sofa, which she went to quickly and sank down on the plump cushions, taking care that her skirt crept up considerably on her shapely thighs so that he might view her body better. She took note of the quick movement of his eyes as his glance was directed toward her thighs, saw him avert his eyes as he flushed ever so slightly, saw him breathe deeply and attempt to regain control over himself. She was pleased that he did so almost immediately.

"Did you want someone to work one day a week, or what?" he asked, apparently making a strong attempt to look her directly in the eyes and not permit himself to dart another glance at her revealed legs.

"I would think that three or four days a week for a while would be more suitable. I have... many things for you to do, you see." Edna kept her voice pitched low, but did not attempt any sexual innuendoes just yet. She had to find out a few things about him first, had to study him as well.

He was nodding his head as he leaned forward resting his tanned young arms on his widely spread legs. "I'd be glad to work as much and as often as you want me to, ma'am." He coughed slightly. "I'll do anything to you, ma'am... excuse me, I didn't say it right. I meant I'll do anything for you."

Edna leaned forward on purpose, turned slightly on the sofa and then sank back again swiftly. It was a move she had practiced often, for she knew it would cause her skirt to creep even higher on her thighs. It worked. Her skirt was now about as high as it would go, and since she was wearing only pantyhose and nothing else beneath the skirt, she knew the boy could see the outline of her puffy cunt.

From the expression on' his face, he had not only seen the outline of her cunt, but was quite excited about having seen it.

She teased him a little. "Is there something wrong?" Her eyes were riveted on his. He returned her look. "No, ma'am. Nothing is wrong. By the way, my name is Rick Howard." He looked hopefully at her.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she apologized. "I'm Miss White. Miss Edna White. I - er - live here alone." Somehow it seemed important that she get this fact across to him in a hurry. He smiled quickly, revealing his white teeth again. "I'll do a good job on you... I mean on your lawn, Miss White."

She pondered these two apparent slips of the tongue. Was he sharper than she was giving him credit for being? Was he, too, playing a little game... with her. She decided to make an overt statement, one that she could draw back from if necessary. "Rick," she said, "I'm sure you will do a good job... on me." She glanced down at the carpet on purpose, but only for an instant, just long enough for him to register a reaction to her words, but not too long for her to glance back up at him quickly and catch his response.

The look on his face, she noted with pleasure and excitement, was one of complete and utter lust.

He was hooked.

She didn't bother to discuss the details of the so-called job. Instead, she asked him where he lived, the words tumbling out of her mouth quickly. When he told her he lived in the next town, she informed him he could have the job at ten dollars a day. Having done this, she quickly stood up and lifted her skirt over her hips as if she were trying to straighten it. She held it high as she glanced down at herself deliberately, then reluctantly allowed the skirt to drop into place.

The boy was on his feet, his eyes extremely odd looking. He was breathing rather fast, she noted.

"Rick," she said decidedly, "will you do me a very great favor, please?" She glanced at him almost primly. It was good to glance at a boy in this fashion when you had something important to ask him, she had long ago discovered.

"Sure," he replied. "Anything you want."

She half dropped her eyelids and turned sideways so that he might take note of her full tits. Edna knew she was sexy looking. She had never doubted her ability to attract a boy. The only thing that ever concerned her was that she might someday choose the wrong type of boy, mistakenly, and that he would react horribly - that is, turn and run from her, yelling at the top of his lungs perhaps. Such a scene would be hideous.

"Rick," she said softly, "did you say anything I want?"

"Yes, Miss White. I'll do anything for you. After all, you've just hired me to work for you all summer."

"Anything, Rick?" she asked again, eyeing him lustfully now and not caring that he saw the look in her eyes, the expression on her face.

His cheeks reddened slightly, but he did not flinch at her gaze. "Yes, Miss White... I'll do anything to you... I mean for you."

Edna slowly removed her blouse and tossed it over a chair. She unhooked her bra and with what she knew was a tantalizing slowness, pulled it free of her body. Her pretty, round tits tumbled into the boy's view even as she heard him gasp. "Rick," she said, her eyelids almost closed now, "will you please fuck me?"

He stood quietly in the middle of the room as she went close to him and dropped to her knees before him. Her hand shaking slightly, she reached for the tab on his zipper, found it and carefully pulled it down. She could not help noticing that he was already very hard - his cock was pushing outward against his pants, making a very obvious bulge at his crotch.

"Are you going to suck it?" he asked, his voice sounding strained and tight. "If you wish me to, Rick. I'll suck it awhile and then you can get on top of me and shaft me." Oh, how she loved to speak in this manner to a young boy. Quite unlike the manner she had to use when speaking to young boys in school. "Would you like to shaft me, Rick?" she asked, taking great pleasure in murmuring the words seductively.

"Sure," he replied, obviously gulping as he spoke, though she was not looking up at his face now and could not see what he was doing. Her eyes were riveted on the protrusion just above his crotch. "Sure," he repeated. "I'd like to do... it to you... you sure are some woman, ma'am. You shook me all up there for a few moments." Shakingly, Edna snaked her hand inside the boy's pants and wrapped her slim fingers about his fat cock. She almost drew her fingers back in shock because of the intense heat of the tool. As she wrapped her fingers about his throbbing prick, she took note of the fact that it was much hotter than any cock she had held before. She wondered about this a little, but not for long. An intense longing had come over her, and she knew she would fulfill it.

His cock out of his pants now, held firmly in her small hand, she parted her red lips and thrust her mouth over the head. The moment he felt his cock being sucked, he apparently became frantic, and grabbing her head, he began to fuck it off into her mouth.

She pulled away and as she did so, the jerking prick struck her repeatedly on the cheeks, the nose, the chin. Oh, it was all too wonderful, she felt, too wonderful to be true. But it was true and the more she held her lips back from his wildly thrusting cock, the more he tried to ram it down her throat. Edna was so excited and hot that she was already having miniature orgasms, one following on the heels of another in devastating fashion. Grabbing his trousers at the waistband - he was not wearing a belt - she yanked down hard on them, while at the same time he crashed down on top of her, his cock flailing wildly in the general direction of her lips. Somehow, she managed to pull his pants down to his knees, while a moment later removing her skirt and pantyhose with one hand, and then spreading her legs far apart and forcing him to pump his prick lower down, towards her cunt. His cock was so hard that when it stabbed fiercely at her cunt region, it actually caused pain there. She had to grasp it firmly and steer the wildly agitating cock into her juicy pussy lips. He shot it into her all the way to the hilt. The boy had a long, slim cock, and she had no difficulty in wrapping her cunt lips about it tightly and clasping it in a perfect frenzy of rapture. He battered her body as only young boys can do, with a lightning speed and a penetration that was complete with every sharp stroke. Edna had another series of quick, little orgasms that left her gasping for air, while pumping her cunt up and down on the boy's swollen, dripping cock. She drained him of every drop. The length of time he required to cease squirting into her cunt was almost unbelievable. This boy was no masturbator, she told herself. She knew about young boys, knew which ones were heavy masturbators, which ones were not. This kid had, up to now, pretty much kept his hands off his genitals, she knew. For the obvious reason, this pleased her. It was nice to think you were getting perhaps sixteen years of boy cock juice. Even though his hot offering had ceased now, he continued to fuck her, his cock shooting in and pulling out of her at a terrific rate of speed. Oddly enough, it was now that she had her greatest orgasm, the spasm being so great that had she not had his hot, young body on top of hers, she would have doubled up and perhaps screamed with ecstasy. As it was, she simply screamed and then lay limply beneath his steamy young body.

"My God," she murmured in abandon. "Is he going to fuck me forever?"

His naked young body continued to pump away at her clutching cunt and in a very short space of time he was once again pouring his scalding goo into her. Again she had an enormously satisfying orgasm, and again she screamed while she was achieving it, not loudly, but more of a whimpering scream. The boy appeared to pay no attention to this. He seemed to pay no attention to anything other than the business at hand - his obviously frantic desire to keep on with his fucking movements, to once again bring the love juice to the tip of his cock and explode within her cunt depths.

Although Edna was already gratified, she was hoping he could once again manage to bring it off. She knew it was often difficult for a male to blow three times in a row, but young boys were different from older men. Young boys seemed to have an unlimited amount of sexual energy. There had been one boy who had fucked her seven times without "uncunting" - a word she had later devised to describe his activity when thinking about it in retrospect.

Now she pressed her hands, palms downward, on his bare ass, the better to hold him in place on top of her slippery, perspiration-dampened flesh. She wrapped her legs around his, hooking her toes underneath his calves for a firmer grip. Finding his mouth with her lips, she began to kiss the boy passionately as he fucked her with that kind of wild, reckless fury that only young boys seem to possess. God, how wonderful it was to have a youngster on top of her nude body, pumping a swollen cock into her cunny. This was what she had wanted so very much and how fortunate she was that this boy had happened by to ask for a job. Why had he come here to her place? Had he known she was a woman living alone? Had he, perhaps, heard stories about her from other young boys? Although she doubted this, it was, of course, a possibility.

"Oh, dear," she sighed, pulling her lips from his. "Are you really going to fuck me forever?"

The boy acted as if he had not heard her question, although actually it had not been meant as a question. He placed his hands under her ass and clutched the cheeks there fiercely as he kept on with his furious fucking movements, his cock going into her deeply with every fast, brutal stroke.

"Oh, dear," she sighed again, her voice shaking, for she was having still another orgasm. "You are going to kill me, fucking me this way. Oh, I love it so." The boy blew off in her at that precise moment and she once again thrilled to the touch of his stabbing cock as it erupted, giving off its content of thick, hot love juice. "Oh... Jesus... " he cried - the first words he had spoken since she had steered his prick into her cunt. His prick squirted once more, the boy shuddered, and then ceased to move in her. He lay still on top of her, his entire weight resting on her, for apparently, he was too tired to hold himself up now. Edna didn't mind, though she, too, was very tired. It was nice having this hot young boy, nude and sweaty, on top of her. It was more than nice - it was heavenly. She wondered just how long his cock would remain hard inside of her and when minutes had passed and it showed no sign of going soft, she sighed and patted his ass gently.

"You are a very good fucker, Rick," she told him gently.

"You're... awful good... yourself," he gasped.

"Tell me," she asked softly, "doesn't it ever go soft on you?"

He gave a short, soft chuckle. "Sure it goes soft but not when I got it stuffed up the cunt of a lovely lady like you."

Edna nodded her head. The boy was smart. He knew how to talk to a woman.

"Thank you, dear," she said.

"I think I could fuck you all night long, Miss White," he told her. "You don't mind my saying that word, do you?"

"No. I love to hear you say it. Say it again, Rick."

"Fuck? That the word you want to hear?"

"Use it in a sentence," she urged, her passion rising again.

"I like to fuck you, Miss White. You fuck real good."

"Thank you, Rick," she said softly. She was silent for a moment. Then she continued. "My, we got acquainted quickly, didn't we, dear?"

He raised up a little, looked down at her and grinned. "Yes, we sure did, Miss White. I - I liked it, too. I mean I liked the way you... well... the way you handled me." Edna was pleased that he would say this for it was true that she had "handled" him. "Thank you, Rick. You're a nice boy. I enjoy having your prick rammed up my cunt. I can't understand what's keeping it so hard, however." "You are, Miss White. You're a real keen-looking girl."

Edna was human. She loved being called a girl. "Do you want to rest awhile and then... have me suck your prick?" She kissed the side of his face as she breathed the words.

"Want me to pull it out and turn around and stab it into your mouth?" he asked, his voice sounding lustful.

She bit her lips lightly and smiled tiredly. "Wouldn't you like to kiss me... you know... while I suck you?"

"You want me to lick your cunt, Miss White? With my tongue?"

Edna smiled and felt the old excitement returning all over again. "Yes, with your tongue, Rick. Think you'd like to try it?"

"Sure, I will. Tell you what, Miss White. I'll lap your cunt for a while and you take some more rest. Okay?"

"That would be... fine, Rick." My, what a hot young boy he was. Extraordinary! He pulled his cock out and crawled backwards on his hands and knees and then dropped flat on his stomach, his face buried in her crotch. Edna closed her eyes to better appreciate the "feel" of it and when his tongue began to lightly caress her sensitivity, she had a quick, savage orgasm.

"Oh, my goodness," she breathed, "you make me so terribly, wonderfully hot. What is it about you?"

He did not answer her. Instead, he stopped his tonguing briefly, turned his body around so that he was on his hands and knees, his legs straddling her upper body. She saw his head shoot down to her crotch and once again felt his darting, wet tongue as he "puppy-dogged" her eagerly. His ass was directly in front of her face. She wished she could kiss his ass, but trying to rise up with him straddling her, required more strength than she seemed to possess. He, of course, was so busy going down on her that he did not notice her attempt to kiss his ass. Finally, the simple solution came to her mind much in the manner that many simple solutions to problems do - last of all. Grasping his waist with either hand, she pulled her head up close to his ass, and with her heart pounding dreadfully, she kissed his anus repeatedly.

"Jesus," he cried out, stopping his cunt sucking for the moment. "Do that again, please," he begged her, and resumed tonguing her cunt.

"Oh, isn't this beautiful," she murmured softly, almost to herself, and tried to get her head underneath his crotch so she could kiss his balls and prick. "I can't reach them," she whispered. "I just can't reach them."

As if he heard her and understood, he lowered his loins a little and when he did this, she managed to kiss his balls and after adjusting her body a little, got first one and then the other into her mouth to suck briefly. Now, she wanted to suck his cock, but it was out of reach until he lay down flat, his legs shooting back and straddling her head marvelously.

"Ah," she cried softly. "Give it to me, honey."

He lifted his body slightly, pushing his prick backward a little until she caught the end of it with her tortured lips. As he continued to lick and suck her cunt, his cock entered her mouth and she felt him growing large there. She struggled to breathe properly, finally managed to control herself correctly, and proceeded to lightly suck his swollen tubing.

"Jesus, that feels great," he cried, his words coming out thickly. "Suck me off, Miss White, oh, Jesus, suck me off."

Edna White had every intention of doing exactly that. His prick was so hard and long and slim and lovely... she could have sucked on it for a week. His bare legs pressed against her head and she could smell the scent of his flesh as well as that of his genitals, the mixture of the two being a maddeningly wonderful thing. She sighed even as she sucked and then she grasped the cheeks of his ass and gripped them fiercely, hanging onto him in this manner as she moved her head up and down, her lips tightly sucking the boy's tool. Suddenly she remembered something and began to work her lips back and forth in a suctioning manner. She had done this before, always with beneficial results and this time was no exception. The hot boy on top of her began to moan ecstatically, began to fuck her mouth with his rod, never ceasing for one moment the maddeningly wonderful honey-dipping job he was doing in her slit.

"Oh, dear... my goodness," Edna murmured, her words sounding thick and garbled because of the cock in her mouth. "What a hot, young thing he is. He's fucking my mouth... how lovely." As if realizing that it was somewhat silly for her to be talking to herself at a time like this, she stopped it and concentrated on taking the darting tube. For the fifth time she had a wildly exhilarating orgasm and, as if the boy somehow realized this and wished to make her moments better ones, he went off in her mouth with all the force of a small Niagara. The hot come struck the roof of her mouth and she was obliged to swallow very quickly for he continued to fill and refill her mouth repeatedly. She had just time to ask herself one question: "Where does he get all of this substance - is he superhuman?"

It was two days later and Edna White was standing on her front porch again, wondering this time what was keeping the boy, Rick, from putting in an appearance. He had promised her he would be at her house shortly after dusk. It was now almost dark and he was nowhere in view. Edna knew a great longing for a few moments. What if he never came back to her? What would she do? What could she do? Would she have to simply forget him and look for another hot, young boy?

"I don't want to do that," she said softly. "This boy is too good. He is the best I've ever taken."

She sighed and stared out at the road. Only a few cars passed by, for this was not a well-traveled highway, but only a short, side road, on which lived only a dozen or so families. She had picked out this house for that very reason - Edna White did not want many neighbors and especially she did not want others living close to her. Turning about, she entered the house and closed the screen door. It was not a hot day. Neither was it too cool. The temperature was just right - for sex.

"Why doesn't he come?" she asked herself aloud, but softly. "I'm so hot for him. I swear, I'll half kill him with love if he ever arrives." It occurred to her that he very possibly had had trouble in getting the car. Perhaps his parents had wanted to use it. Maybe they had taken it and... well, maybe a lot of things. The point was... the boy wasn't here, and while she had only been with him the one time, that one time had been so magnificent that she had thought about it and dreamed about it for the past forty-eight hours. That pretty, long, slim prick, the way it had felt stabbing deeply into her cunt. She shuddered delightfully now, as she recalled the way he had used it in her. The boy was gifted, no mistake about it. He was sexually gifted as are few men, she thought. Edna was pretty much forced to conjecture on this last thought, for she had not been out with a sufficient number of grown men to really know. Always, she had had this overpowering urge for young boys; even as a young girl she had eyed boys that were not yet ready to partake of sex, though at the time she had not been quite aware of this.

She went to her bedroom, removed all her clothing and put on a skimpy bikini, which she seldom, if ever, wore at the beach. She kept it at home for the purpose of studying her mirrored reflection when she wore it. Sometimes it helped her to look at her body in a mirror while she was naked, but at other times it reassured her to see her reflection clothed in some manner. Edna recognized that these things were simply little quirks she had. She enjoyed her quirks because they were hers and hers alone.

Her bikini on, she stood before a full-length mirror and looked at her body with pleasure. She knew she had a lovely body and while she was not conceited about it, she took great pride in knowing that she could drive a young boy half-crazy with desire any time she wished to do so. All she needed, of course, was the presence of the young boy, in this case, one Rick Howard. Sighing slightly, she deliberately pushed the lower part of her bikini down until the top edge of her pubic hair was revealed. Edna loved to do this - it seemed so terribly and beautifully vulgar. She smiled at her reflection, as with hands on hips, she shot her loins forward and purposely indulged in what she considered to be a degraded look. This was great fun, although a little startling at times. Sometimes it made her wonder if there might not be something terribly evil about herself, but what greater fun could there be than the contemplation of this, while at the same time being able to recognize that the feeling was one of simple nonsense.

Or was it?

At any rate, Edna smiled again, withdrew from the mirror and walked into the front room. Her heart nearly leaped out of her when she saw the boy, Rick, standing at the front door, his hands shading his eyes as he attempted to see through the screen of the door into the room.

Edna ran to the door, unlocked it and pulled him into the room. She got him away from the door and threw her arms about him, kissing his mouth hungrily while allowing her hot loins to press eagerly against his front. She felt the hardness spring up between them immediately and was delighted beyond measure.

"Oh, Rick," she sighed, releasing his lips long enough to speak. "I thought you weren't coming to fuck me." When she uttered the four-letter word, she felt his cock spring up even farther. "Oh," she gasped. "You're ready for it, aren't you, baby?" She did not even realize she had used the word "baby." It was not the type of word she generally included in her workaday vocabulary, except of course, during moments of high sexual exhilaration. At such times, Edna White was apt to say anything or do anything.

"Sorry I'm late," he told her, grinning slightly. "But I couldn't get the car started. Rotor busted."

Edna didn't know what a rotor was and she couldn't have cared less. Pushing herself away from him, she stood with one knee bent in front of the other, well aware that the top edge of her pubic hair was visible. She saw his eyes dart down to the spot, saw the spot of red in his cheeks, the glint in his young, blue eyes.

"God, you're a hot sight," he muttered. "I haven't been able to get you out of my mind for... how long has it been since we fucked and sucked each other - a week or so?" "Two days," she answered, loving the language he had used. It was so thrilling, so exhilarating to hear a young boy use such words in her presence. "Two days," she repeated, "and I'll bet I have fucked you fifty times in my imagination during that time."

His eyes gleamed again. "Boy, when you talk that way, I... I... just about go off in my pants. Why don't you take off your bikini and let me stick it into you?"

She sensed immediately that this was an excellent time to play with him a little, not physically necessarily, but mentally. "Oh, my goodness," she cried in mock dismay. "Does boy have stiff cocky... and does he need to ram it up lady's twat?" She smiled coyly when she spoke, hoping he would understand she was indulging in the language of sex-play.

Apparently he did, for he ran his hand over his cock, almost in a caressing manner and looked at her lustfully, even as he grinned. "Yes, boy has stiff, very stiff cocky, and he wants very much to ram it up lady's twat. He wants very much to ram it up her asshole, too, and to stuff it down her throat. He wants to suck her cunt till she goes half nuts and blows off like a bomb. He... "

"Come here," she interrupted, pulling off her bra and tossing it aside. Her tits tumbled into full view and they had the desired effect on him just as she knew they would. His eyes bulged slightly. "You know," he said with surprising quietness, "you have the cutest tits in the state." The bulge of his eyes lessened somewhat, but a stream of saliva drooled from his lips in an exciting way. It was exciting because she was certain he was not aware of it.

"Thank you, Rick," she replied. "And you have the nicest cock in the country."

He grinned. "Mind if I take it out and point it at your tits?"

She grinned. "Please... do so... please point your cock at my tits."

He unzipped his fly and pulled out his cock and holding it in his hand, he came close to her and ran it over her belly. A bead of fluid appeared in the little opening at the end and this dribbled onto her flesh, causing her to shiver with delight. She sat down on a chair quickly and he began to rub his stiffened cock across her tits lightly. The sensation of it was wonderful, she thought. She closed her eyes and felt him slapping her tits with his cock. This almost made her scream with delight. God, what a hot thing he was! He was almost as much of a hot fuck as she was, she was beginning to realize. How lucky she was to have him here.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a sudden discharge from his cock. The hot, thick cream struck her titties and ran down between them, going all the way to her navel, stopping there briefly, and as she waited almost breathlessly, resumed its travels and ran down into her slit.

"Wow," Edna White cried almost without knowing she had uttered the word. "Wow, yourself," he cried back. "Do you see what you do to me now? I just touch you with my cock and... zap!... I blow off on you."

Edna opened her eyes quickly. "You didn't lose it all, did you, dear?" She did not know it of course, but there was a look of alarm in her eyes. He smiled tightly. "Hell, no. I got lots more where that came from."

Edna was feeling more and more on the wild side. She wanted to say something to him that would really set him up. Quickly, it came to mind and she spoke the words, meaning them. "Rick, baby, jack off on my titties, please?" The word "please" came out sounding like a begging question.

He sucked in air greedily. "That's the hottest thing I ever heard anyone say, ever.

Will you say it again, Miss White?"

She closed her eyes tightly. "Please, Rick, baby, jack off on my titties."

"Tell you what," he said, his words nearly tumbling out one on top of the other. "Lie down on the floor and let me sit on your tummy. I won't sit heavy on you. That way I can... Wait a minute - I have a better idea! Would you like to jack me off? Let it fly on your tits, I mean?"

Edna got off the chair and lay down on the floor quickly. Once, she was flat on her back, her bare tits standing straight up, she closed her eyes again and waited for him to mount her. She gasped when she felt his bare flesh, which meant he had quickly removed his pants and undershorts. Sighing, she waited for him to adjust his position and then... she felt him slapping her tits with his cock again, as he had done previously. This time the effect was even more startling, for she felt "trapped." She was on her back, he was above her, sitting on her belly lightly, holding her down with one hand pressed against her right shoulder as he continued to slap her tits with his rock-hard tool.

"Oh, I like that so much," she murmured. "How nice to be beaten with a cock." He sucked in air audibly. "I never saw anyone like you before in my life... you must be the hottest woman alive."

"If I am, it's because of you, Rick. You make me this way." This wasn't altogether true, for she had been devastatingly hot many times with many boys, but she did have a certain special feeling with Rick.

"Would you like to kiss my cock?" he asked after a few moments of tit-slapping. "I like it when you wrap your hot lips around the end and then go all the way down on it."

"If you don't want to jack off on my tits, now, Rick, I'll be glad to suck you off. I want to do everything I can to please you."

"And that's the same way I feel about you," he blurted. "That's because I think you're so great."

"Slide up a bit and stick your cock between my titties. Hold them together and make a kind of cunt out of them. Then I want you to poke your prick between my lips. With my tits and my lips I think I can induce you to go off in me, dear."

He laughed. "Induce me to go off! Doesn't take much inducement. All it takes is for you to let me touch you, Miss White."

She enjoyed hearing him call her Miss White. She was so accustomed to this in school so that when he addressed her in this same way while slapping her tits with his cock, it made her feel wonderfully sinful which, in turn, was deliriously satisfying to her.

"Place your cock between my titties now," she told him as she held her tits together. When he rammed his cock between them, she held her tits tightly together and as the end of his tube poked at her lips, she thrust her head forward as much as possible, her lips parted, her eyes open for the moment. As soon as she had her lips wrapped about his hot, rubbery tool, she again closed her eyes and allowed him to tit-and-lip-fuck her. Ah, it was wonderful!

The taste of his prick was pleasant, thrilling, exhilarating. The way he pumped in and out of her mouth through her titties was excitingly wild and unorthodox. Edna liked things to be unorthodox, things having to do with sex, especially. She despised things that were run-of-the-mill and ordinary. Thrills were what she was after and at the moment she was receiving them in abundant amounts. What a pity it was that a boy could not have two cocks so that he could use one in each end of a woman at the same time.

While her thoughts were so directed, he astonished her pleasantly by yanking his cock from her mouth, drawing it back through her tits and lowering his body down on hers so that he was now aiming his tool directly at her cunt. He immediately began to stab at her pussy lips frantically.

"Put it in, put it in, Miss White," he begged her. "I just got to have it in your cunt." He did not stop his stabbing movement but kept on with it as if obsessed.

She tried to grasp his poking cock but her saliva had made it slippery and each time she clutched at the darting tool, it slipped from her fingers. In desperation - for she wanted his cock in her as badly as he did - she grabbed him by the hips and using all of her strength as well as urging him to stop the movement, she managed to get her hand about his cock long enough to steer the head inside her cunt. When he felt the heat of her inner body enveloping his prick, he moaned and thrust forward in the manner of a bull in the field topping and servicing a cow. Edna gasped as she felt the long, hard, male tool shoot into her inner recesses. She spread her legs wide, the better to receive his batterings, for this was what he was presently engaged in doing - battering her cunt relentlessly. His cock was darting into her and flying out with such speed and friction, that she groaned with delight at the heavenly feeling it produced against her sensitivities.

"Oh, you bad boy, you," she moaned. "Fuck my cunt, fuck my cunt, you bad, bad boy, you." Saying this, she grasped him by the cheeks of his ass with all her strength and was gratified by hearing him cry out from the pain of it. "Come now," she went on, as if she were talking to a child in school. "Miss White wants you to please her. Miss White likes to have your hard rod tucked inside her aching cunt. Miss White insists that you blow off your hard rod into her aching cunt. Do you hear me, boy? Do you hear me?" She had no idea why she was talking in this manner, but later she thought it must have been because of her extreme passion, the kind of extreme passion that nearly drives a person out of his mind.

The boy kept on with his cock pumping, his prick going deeply into her cunt with every stroke and not once did he relent on the speed or depth of strokes. The friction of his rubbing cock deep within her was enough to really drive Edna out of her mind, and perhaps it did for a while, for later she realized that she had never before had such a wildly gratifying experience. This could have been a form of insanity, the temporary kind, the wonderful, sexual kind.

"You're a hot piece of ass, Miss White," the boy muttered thickly in her ear. "You've got the tightest, juiciest cunt I ever fucked."

She was pleased at hearing this. "And how many cunts have you fucked, boy?" she asked.

"Fucked a few, fucked a few," he muttered back at her. "You got the best one, though. Your cunt seems to be trying to jack off my cock when I fuck you. Jesus... you make me hot, Miss White." As he said this, he began to run his tongue over her forehead in such a way that she thought she was going to explode from the sheer pleasure of such a move.

"Oh, my God," she murmured. "I've had a lot of 'em on top of me, but I swear none have been as good as you, baby." She returned his wet kissing acts by running her tongue over his chin and finally his lips. Instantly their tongues came together and rubbed against each other, like two wildly excited animals. Edna had never before encountered this much passion in a boy.

"I like to fuck your cunt, Miss White," the boy above her struggled to say in her ear, in between the swipes at her skin with his slippery tongue. "Fucking you is the greatest sensation in the world."

"Oh, yes, fuck me, dear boy. I agree with you . fucking with you is the very best." He thrust his hands under her ass and grasped her there just as fiercely as she was grasping the cheeks of his own ass. It was as if the two of them were trying to rip flesh off each other's butt, so great was their need of each other. "Pump your cunt, Miss White," he grunted. "Pump your cunt over my hard-on. I want you to jack me off with your twat."

Edna was slowly but surely losing her reason, she felt, the way this kid was treating her and talking to her. His cock seemed to be constantly growing, though she knew, of course, that this could hardly be true. A boy's prick had to stop swelling at some point. Didn't it?

"Please go off in me," she heard herself begging him. "Please come in me, baby." "All right, get ready to receive," he cried hoarsely and even though she found it difficult to believe, he actually speeded up his movements, poking his cock into her, then yanking it out of her, then darting it back inside, withdrawing again only to slam it in again all the way to the hilt.

Edna had two orgasms, one following quickly on the heels of the other. They were beautiful. She found, however, during the second spasm that it was becoming very hard for her to breathe properly. She momentarily forgot about the pounding cock that was practically tearing her up and concentrated on getting air into her lungs, which she did after a few hard tries. Then she turned her attention back to the almost excruciating intensity of the boy's fucking motion.

"Oh, it's so lovely," she moaned. "I think I'm going to go off again." She did, too. Her third orgasm hit her even harder than the first two had, and she was obliged to lessen her grasp on the cheeks of his ass. After all, a woman has only so much strength, no matter how hot she is, or how intensely she has been worked up. "Oh, it's so lovely," she repeated in his ear, only to feel his tongue wiping again across her face. This made her even hotter and she thought that surely this time she would lose all reason - the excitement was just too much for a woman to endure, too great for a human being to cope with indefinitely.

She did not have to cope with it indefinitely.

Only for about forty seconds.

Forty seconds while he emptied his inner body of the thick scaldings.

Forty seconds while she received his burning, sticky offerings.

What a beautiful forty seconds!

She could not find her bikini when she first looked for it, but finally saw it under the sofa where it must have been kicked while they were fucking on the floor. Leaving him lying there, but patting his ass affectionately before moving away from him, she went to her bedroom and from it stepped into the bathroom where she turned on the cold and hot water, adjusting the two until the temperature of the combination was to her liking. Stepping under the falling water, she let it refreshen her, reveling in the pleasure of it as this pleasure intermingled in her mind with the recollection of what had just transpired on the floor of her front room. That boy - he was simply unbelievable. His cock wouldn't quit on him, ever, she felt. She had known many young boys, but they had all been as nothing compared to this lad. There was something about secretly calling him a lad that made her quivery all over. God, how she liked feeling hot all over, even when the cool water was dashing upon her skin as it was now.

Soaping her skin lightly, she let the water wash it away, and a moment later she stepped out from under the shower, reaching back to shut off the water. Her back was turned to the bedroom door and she did not see him plunging straight at her nudity. She felt him, however. Oh, God, how she felt him when he almost brutally forced her to the floor of the shower - the water pouring down over both of them - and rammed his cock up her asshole all the way to the hilt.

He ass-fucked her for ten minutes.

At first, it hurt her terribly, but eventually she became used to the brutal battering of his prick as he went even deeper into her anus. Her main concern was in not drowning and once she moved her face away from the deepest pool of the water to a spot where she could breathe satisfactorily, she closed her eyes and actually enjoyed being fucked in the asshole, something she had never permitted to be done to her before. She had always been afraid of it, thinking with some degree of correctness, that the pain of being ass-fucked would be too great for her to really enjoy the brutalizing act. However, she did enjoy it. She enjoyed it tremendously. And then he shot off his cock juice into her body, yanked his damaging cock from her hole, jumped to his feet and ran back to the living room, leaving her on the floor of the shower, her ass aching, her brain whirling, her body constantly being cleansed by the falling water.

He was gone from the house, his car was not in the drive when she appeared in the living room wearing only a robe. Her heart jumped as she saw his car was gone, but it was always this way with Edna White. Every young boy she had ever fucked had sooner or later got up and left her abruptly with no word of explanation. This threw her into momentary panic, always, but it soon disappeared, leaving her filled with wonder at the joys of sex experienced, but concerned that she might never again see the boy in question.

Edna White sighed, sank down on the sofa and drifted off into a light sleep.

She was awakened in the most delightful manner imaginable.

Rick, his blond hair spread out over her crotch, hiding it from view as it partially hid his fast-moving tongue and lips, was sucking her, working her cunt with a skill she would not have believed he possessed. His mouth was making an exciting slurping sound and Edna was not certain which turned her on the most - his actual sucking and kissing, the slurping sound, or the fierce manner in which his strong hands gripped her thighs, squeezing her flesh unmercifully hard. Surely he was going to pull her flesh away from her very bones the way he was gripping her legs.

"Oh..." she moaned. "That hurts... but it hurts so good, baby."

He bit her cunt around the edges of the puffy lips, also a new experience for her. It frightened her, but only for a moment, probably because he stopped doing it and resumed darting his tongue in and out of her slit with expertise.

"Oh," she moaned again. "You suck a cunt so well, baby."

He said nothing but grabbed her quickly and pulled her roughly from the sofa to the floor, atop his own body, her cunt over his face. She didn't resist him in any way and the next thing she knew, he had turned her body around so that she was sitting on his face - his tongue had never stopped darting in and out of her box - and he was pressing her head downward. She understood what he wanted and lay down on him, her cunt still over his fast-working lips and tongue, but with her own lips now near his quivering, wet cock. Sighing happily, with sensation after sensation passing through her nervous system, she parted her moist lips and took in his swollen cock. The moment her lips fastened themselves about his tube, he shot his hips up frantically and it was with a great degree of difficulty that she managed to force him to hold his hips down to the floor. Edna loved being mouth-fucked, but this time, while he tongued her off, she wished to French him in her own manner and to her own satisfaction, without regard to his enjoyment of it. This was not selfishness or lack of consideration on her part - it was simply a type of passion that is most effective, for it conveys its purpose immediately - hot consummation, quickly.

She went on down, taking her own sweet time about it and dearly loving every thrilling moment of it. Repeatedly, he tried to outfuck her, but she held his hips down by leaning on them with her forearms as she continued to enjoy the boy's rubbery, warm cock as it passed over her lips and tongue in just exactly the manner she wanted.

He flew off in her but she did not stop. Swallowing his thick, hot fluid and marveling at the amount of it as she had previously, she sucked him as before, with the exception that now she was using longer strokes, going from the very tip of his cock down all the way, until her teeth picked up bits of his hair, which she spit out repeatedly. Edna didn't mind this. In fact, she loved it. It helped her to realize that she had a young boy's cock between her lips, if she needed help in this respect, which was doubtful.

She moved her lips momentarily. "I could suck your cock forever, boy," she murmured, meaning it.

"Blow it off again, blow it off again," he begged, his words almost unintelligible because his mouth was buried so deeply in her slit.

She obliged him by increasing her sucking speed but still keeping it at a pace where she enjoyed it the most and when she felt his body stiffening and beginning to jerk, she prepared herself mentally to receive his hot offerings. He squirted off into her mouth with considerable force and all the time he did this, she continued with her slow, careful, sucking movements, applying actual suction to the end of his cock. This was apparently extremely pleasing to the boy, for he shot off again and again and finally ceased altogether, but when she still sucked his cock, he once again blew in her and she gratefully swallowed his milk.

Strangely, she had not had an orgasm all during this particular sexual act. "Maybe I'm getting too much of it," she murmured, hardly noticing him as he sprang to his feet and ran to the front door. It was now that she noticed, almost for the first time, that he was fully dressed, save for a shirt. This was also funny. Funny in the sense that it was odd. She had sucked him off and hadn't noticed he was wearing pants. Edna got to her feet, stretched her arms high above her head and looked at him. He appeared to be gesturing to someone outside. Immediately, she called sharply to him, asking him what he was doing, but before he could answer or before she could move, another boy stepped into the room. Edna ran from the room quickly, drawing her robe about her body. Closing the door of her bedroom, she leaned against it, her heart thumping crazily. What did Rick mean by inviting the other boy to her house? He had no right to do that. She hadn't recognized the other boy, but this didn't mean he didn't know her as Miss White of the local teachers.

"Damn," she muttered. "How will I handle this?"

A moment later, as if in answer to her question, there was a light knock on the door. "Yes," she called through the door. "Is that you, Rick?" It sounded idiotic, but for the life of her she could think of nothing better. She noticed her hands were shaking. "Miss White," Rick called. "May my friend, Bud, and I come into your room? The two

of us want to fuck you at the same time... one at each end."

Edna caught her breath. "Will you say that again, please," she intoned.

"My friend, Bud. He and I want to two-fuck you. Is that okay with you, Miss White? I mean can you handle two young boys at once, one at each end, pumping cock juice into you?"

Edna White, schoolteacher, moved slightly away from the door and reaching back, turned the knob. The door flew open and she saw two naked boys, with hard-ons, staring at her opened robe lustfully.

"How about it, Miss White?" Rick asked huskily. "Think you can take two young cocks at the same time?"

Edna threw off her robe and walked to her bed and sprang upon it, lying flat on her back, her lips parted, her legs wide. "Come here, boys. Both of you. Get on the bed and have at me. One in my cunt, one in my mouth. I'll take all the cock the two of you can throw at me. I love cocks," she added fiercely. "I love cocks more than anything else on earth." She. had completely forgotten to be careful in the presence of a strange boy. Anyway... fall term was quite a long way away... and even if this new kid might quite possibly be one of her new students, he wasn't one now.

Was he?

Or would she, perhaps, teach him a few things the moment he began to move his cock in her body? This would make him a student, in a sense. Edna laughed softly at the thought as the two hot youngsters leaped onto her bed and proceeded to stab her with their cocks, the new boy in her cunt, and Rick in her mouth. She decided swiftly that she wanted it the other way around. Telling them this, she pushed them away as best she could. They seemed not to care one way or the other and in no time at all they had reversed their positions and she was sucking the new boy's swollen cock while accepting the rough, brutal stabbings of Rick's prick in her dripping cunt.

Rick stopped abruptly and withdrew his cock.

"What is it?" Edna asked, removing her lips from the new boy's prick.

"Positions are wrong. Miss White, you get up on your hands and knees and straddle Bud so you can suck him. Bud, you put a pillow under your butt so Miss White can reach you without breaking her neck." Bud did this and lay flat on his back while Edna crawled over him on her hands and knees, her ass facing toward the foot of the bed. "Now then," Rick went on, "I'll get behind you, Miss White, and dog-fuck you." He got behind her, grasped her hips powerfully in his strong, young hands and sank his shaft up her cunt as far as it would go. Edna felt, for all the world, like a bitch dog that has been caught and penetrated by a male dog. She was astonished at what a pleasantly hot feeling this turned out to be. With her pulse racing, she lowered her head to the dark-haired boy's quivering erection. Even as she felt the plunging cock coming at her and into her from the rear, she simultaneously felt the hot, hard prick of the new boy as she closed down on it eagerly with her trembling lips.

This was a first for Edna White. She had never been... what was it Rick had called it? - two-fucked before.

Two-fucking, she soon discovered, could be the most gratifying thing in the world. It not only could be, but was. Edna had orgasm after orgasm, one following the other so rapidly that she would, at times, grow weak and be obliged to cease sucking the hard, young cock that was quivering and jerking near her face. When she did this, the dark-haired boy, Bud, would grab her hair and pull her mouth back to his wet prick, and she would permit him to force it back into her mouth. Then she would again commence her suctioning. He squirted off down her throat twice, neither of his juicings being anything near equal in quantity to those of Rick's. Edna knew there was no one else in the world just like Rick. There simply couldn't be another to compare with the potency and virility of this kid - he was in a class by himself. Nevertheless, she fully enjoyed sucking off the new boy repeatedly, though she was slightly disappointed to find out that he was not as good as Rick. Still, what did it matter? Rick had his cock in her cunt, battering her from the rear like a male dog. My, how she loved it... wonderful... marvelous... to be treated like a bitch. When he blew in her, she finally achieved a small orgasm and when the other boy proceeded again to shoot into her mouth, she had a second one, and it was beautiful. She continued to go down on the boy long after he had ceased to flow in her, and finally he took it upon himself to push her away, whereupon he collapsed flat on the bed with Rick on top of her, still shafting her from the rear.

The three of them lay quietly for a long time. Once Edna turned her head and stared hard at the boy named Bud. He looked vaguely familiar but it was too late to be worrying about that now. She had already sucked his cock; if he should turn out to be one of her new term students... well, she would just have to find some way of keeping him quiet about her urges. She was fairly certain she could handle this kid, if necessary. He didn't appear to be the know-it-all type, or the type that is simply smart-assed.

She got up from the bed after a few minutes and stood staring down at the two boys, a look of amusement on her face. If a mirror had not been close at hand she would not have been aware of her expression. The boys both lay side by side, their cocks still poking upward as they both stared up at her tits. Edna turned slightly so that they could see her profile. She sucked in her tummy slightly, though there was little need for this because her stomach was flat and pretty and she knew it was. "Miss White," Rick said. "Thanks for letting both of us fuck you." "You're welcome," she said, smiling down at them happily.

"You sure suck a mean cock, Miss White," Bud cried out passionately.

Again she smiled. "Thank you, Bud. You have a very nice cock to suck."

He let out air, his dark eyes sparkling. "You know something? I thought old Rick was lying when he told me he knew where we could get fucked and sucked at the same time."

Edna was not at all offended. Why should she be? Young boys were her meat, weren't they? "I'm so glad he brought you, Bud, but I do wish he had asked permission first. You see I have to... " She broke off, not wanting to tell them she had to be careful because she was a teacher of kids their age.

Rick spoke up. "I'm sorry about that, Miss White. I really am. I know now that I should have asked you before telling him about you and bringing him here, but you see, Bud and me... well, we're friends and we usually share a lot of stuff together." "Oh," she said, relieved to hear this. "Then both of you live in the next town?" "Yes." Both boys looked up at her oddly.

"Then you can come here... at night... not too late at night, however... as often as you want to... to get fucked and sucked, boys," she told them, smiling again.

"Thanks, Miss White. Do you want us to clear out now?"

She sighed. "I suppose you had better go pretty soon, boys. It's growing quite late, I believe."

The boys got off the bed and walked to the living room where they got dressed. When they started for the front door she called to them and they stopped and looked at her.

She had her robe on now and she walked sensuously toward them, the robe hanging open. "Remember to come back, boys. Miss White needs you." She rather liked speaking of herself in the third person.

"We'll be back tomorrow night the same time," Rick said.

"Fine," she said, and they were gone.

True to their word, they were on her front porch the following evening at almost the precise time they had arrived the previous day. Silently she let them inside the house and closed and locked the door. She had the air conditioning turned on and it was quite comfortable in the house. She gestured to the sofa and without speaking, the two boys went to it and sat on the edge, both fastening their lustful gazes on her exposed, lovely body.

"How are you, boys?" she asked by way of openings.

"Fine," they said together as if they had rehearsed it.

She pulled her robe together, just to see their reaction. They were plainly disappointed. Laughing lightly, she removed the robe and stood, feet apart and with arms held high above her shapely head, in front of the sofa, only a hard or so away from them.

"Which of you would like to suck my cunt first?" she asked softly. "My cunt is begging to be sucked by a boy."

Both boys seemed to swallow hard but neither of them spoke.

Edna lifted her brows slightly. "Come now, don't tell me my cunt is not something to be loved."

Rick cleared his throat. "Oh, no, Miss White, we don't mean anything like that, do we, Bud?" He glanced at the other boy.

Edna forced herself to smile at them. "Mean anything like what?" she asked, puzzled.

Rick ran his fingers over his mouth nervously. "I'll suck your cunt, Miss White, if you want me to."

She frowned slightly. "If I want you to? Didn't I ask one of you to do so just a moment ago? I thought I did."

"We - er - thought we'd like to just watch tonight, Miss White," Rick told her, and the other boy nodded eagerly in silence.

Edna began to feel slightly absurd standing there in front of the kids without clothing. "What do you mean - watch? Watch what? How can you both watch?"

Rick's face reddened and he again glanced at Bud who nodded to him. "We thought we'd like to watch you fuck something else," he said, his eyes filled with wild lust, his voice shaky.

Edna felt her heart skip a beat. "Did you bring a third boy with you?" What else could they mean by what they had said?

Rick shook his head and so did Bud, but neither boy said anything.

Edna waited, looking from one boy to the other. "Come now," she said. "What is this plan of yours? Who am I supposed to fuck?"

Rick got to his feet. "I'll bring him in if you don't mind, Miss White." He started for the door.

She bit her lips. "By all means. Get him. Bring him in the house. I'd like to see this friend you want to watch fucking me." She started to reach for her robe.

"Don't put on your robe, Miss White. He'd rather have you all naked and nice. I know he would."

Again Edna bit her lips. "Very well. Bring in your horny friend."

Rick was out the door in a flash and when he returned, Edna nearly fainted. He had a police dog on a leash. The dog looked at her oddly and licked his chops, sniffing at her. Rick removed the leash and the big dog came close to the startled schoolteacher and sniffed at her cunt.

Edna White, her heart threatening to stop beating, dropped to her hands and knees quietly, quickly. The big dog climbed on top of her from the rear, his forepaws grasping her firmly about the waist, his long, red, angry-looking prong shafting her all the way to the hilt. Edna groaned, closed her eyes, and never once was conscious of the terrific excitement that came over the boys as they moved closer to watch the big dog fuck her with all the fury of a Kansas tornado.

Later, she knew that she had done the correct thing in permitting the boys to watch the dog take her. After all, it was her purpose in life to please young boys, wasn't it?

Chapter TWO

When Danny Boros decided to head for home by cutting through a vacant lot and several backyards in his new neighborhood, he had no idea of the excitement that lay ahead of him. It was not until he impulsively gave his football a high toss into the air and then sought to catch it before it hit the ground that things began to happen. First of all, he didn't quite make contact with the falling ball. It bounced away from him crookedly, as footballs are apt to do, and came to rest near a house that was fairly well concealed by high bushes and shrubbery. Danny parted the bushes and sought to retrieve his ball. When he stood up he found himself inadvertently staring through a window into a lady's bedroom.

The lady, thirteen-year-old Danny saw with intense and instant excitement, was almost entirely naked. She wore a bra and nothing else. The bra looked to be far too small for her titties. The titties, Danny noted, his heart thumping wildly within him, were very large, very round and stood straight out from her chest. Danny rubbed himself almost unconsciously between the legs as the thing began to happen to him. He continued to rub himself until he was so hard he thought his cock was going to burst. The lady, he saw as he continued to stare at her beauty, was dark of hair, quite old, probably about thirty-five or so, maybe older, and extremely pretty. She was so pretty that for a brief moment he actually forgot the exhilarating sexual experience he was having and thought only of her beauty in a childlike way. This did not stay with him for long because his quivering cock was threatening to explode in his pants. He rubbed himself once more and with delight felt a quick shot of warm goo shooting down his legs. "Oh... boy," he breathed. "Oh... "

The lady heard him for she turned and stared directly into his eyes. The window was up a few inches and when she came quickly to it, standing to one side so as not to expose her lower body too much to his view, she spoke. "All right, boy. So you're a window peeper, are you? You know what they do to window peepers, don't you?" Danny could not speak. Wide-eyed, he could only moisten his dry lips and shake his head fearfully.

"There's a door just a few feet from where you are standing, boy. Go to it. I want you to come inside. I'm going to have a talk with you. I don't care for window peepers. Do you understand? Go to the door and I'll open it for you. You are to come inside and talk to me. If you try to run away I'll have you arrested."

Danny could only nod his head as he looked about wildly for the door. He saw it then and dropping his football, walked to it just as it came open. A female arm shot out, a hand grasped him in a surprisingly strong grip and pulled him into the room. The door was hastily shut and bolted, he noted.

He also noted the lady had put on a pair of panties but nothing more. The panties were very dinky looking and scarcely covered anything except what Danny thought of as "the place." He gulped and reddened as he looked at her lovely body so close to him. He had never in his life been this close to an almost naked lady. He had seen pictures of them, of course. Who hadn't? And there had been one time he had accidentally seen his mother naked... but that was something different, Danny thought.

"All right, boy," the dark-haired lady demanded fiercely. "What do you mean by staring into my window when I am getting dressed? Come now. Speak up." She still held his arm in her strong grip and she gave him a shake as if to punctuate her words.

"I didn't... mean... to look in your window... honest. I didn't... I just... I mean, I " "You're lying, boy. I can see it on your face. Besides... " Here the lady leaned back and looked directly downward at the front of his pants. "Besides," she repeated, "you're having a sex happening. I can see it sticking up. Tell me, boy, just how old are you?"

"Thirteen, ma'am," Danny mumbled, very embarrassed but also terribly excited at her making reference to his hard cock.

"I could have you arrested, you know, sent to jail for being a window peeper. It is against the law for a... boy to watch a lady undress."

"Undress?" he asked innocently. "I thought you said you were getting dressed." She frowned slightly. "Makes no difference. The point is, you were breaking the law, and I have half a notion to get in touch with your parents and have them put you away in a boys' prison where they teach you not to stare through a lady's window." Danny was frightened more than ever now. "Please, ma'am, don't tell my folks.

Please?"

She bit her pretty lips and he thought he had never seen such a pretty act in his entire life. He knew he had never seen such a pretty lady before. She was positively the greatest. "You're a very bad boy," she said severely. "I should punish you somehow."

Danny was about to agree to anything as long as she did not tell his parents about this. His parents were very strict about such matters as... well, sex stuff. He knew this to be a fact. The word "sex" was not permitted in his household. "All right," he told her. "You punish me, but please don't tell my folks what I did. I'm awful sorry I... " "Come here, boy," she said, and surprised him terribly by propelling him toward the bed. "Sit down on the bed. I must examine you to see just how evil you are." Danny didn't have the slightest idea of what she was talking about. "All right," he agreed. He sat down gingerly on the side of the bed, his feet on the floor. "Sit over farther on the bed," the lady told him severely. "I can't examine your evilness if you just lean against the bed."

Danny moved up farther on the bed after quickly slipping off his shoes.

The dark-haired lady glared at him, her tremendous tits rising and falling as if she were very angry at him. "Why did you remove your shoes, boy?" she asked, her tone still severe and sharp.

Danny flushed. "I don't know, ma'am... except my mother always... "

"I see," she said, interrupting him. "Your mother has taught you to take off your shoes before getting on a bed." The lady wet her lips quickly. "Didn't she also tell you never to get on a bed with your pants on, boy?"

Danny flushed again. "Well... yes... she has told me that, too."

"Very well, then you know what to do, don't you?" "Huh?" Danny was astonished at this.

"Take your pants off. How do you think I can examine your evil if you don't take off your pants?"

"You're... going... to... examine... my... evil?" he asked, awestruck.

"I most definitely am, boy. You're a window peeper and that is a serious crime. I must know precisely what you had in mind after seeing me... in... the... nude." Danny didn't really understand any of this but simply lay there on the bed without moving.

"Very well," she cried. "If you won't remove your pants, I will." And saying this she grasped his pants at the top, unhooked them, unzipped them and pushing him over on his back, drew the garment off quickly, expertly. "Now then," she cried, her tone of voice having changed a great deal, Danny thought. "Off with the undershorts. I must examine your evil."

"Ma'am," Danny groaned. "I can't do that."

"Take them off, boy," she thundered. "Or I'll have you and your parents arrested. How do you think your parents will feel about that?"

Danny was embarrassed, but in a strange new way. He was willing to remove his shorts. Becoming bolder by the minute, he now found that he very much wanted to show this mature, adult woman what he had between his legs. He knew, having compared his to other boys his age, that he had a good size cock, the longest one he had seen yet, so it was almost with pride that he quickly stripped off his undershorts and lay back, his long prick standing straight up and quivering wildly as if it had a life of its own.

He heard the lady suck in her breath sharply.

"Am I evil?" he asked hesitantly. "Are you going to put me in prison because looking at you got it hard?"

She came closer to him, leaned over him and looked intently at his hard cock. "It is truly an evil thing. We must get rid of this evil. There is only one way. I shall have to rid you of the evil." She slipped her panties down over her hips and let them fall to the floor. She then unhooked her bra and tossed it aside, nearly causing Danny to explode as he saw her lovely titties bouncing about crazily. The tiny nipples on her tits seemed to be eyeing him hungrily.

"Oh," he moaned. "Oh... " His cock was actually trembling now.

The lady, now naked, ran her fingers over her lush body, and then astonished Danny by crawling on top of the bed, walking on her knees. His lips very dry now, he watched her as she proceeded to carry out whatever it was she was going to do. As she "walked" over the bed, she suddenly straddled his body and looked down at him in a way that he could understand but not believe. He himself had often looked at pictures of naked girls in much the same way, or at least he thought he might have. At any rate, the lady, her great tits standing straight out from her chest, gave him his greatest thrill to date simply by looking at him in a wild, strange manner.

"Now then, boy," she said, her voice having gone very husky. "We shall rid you of the evil thing." Saying this, she seized his quivering cock, inserted the head of it into the recesses of her crotch and carefully, strangely, sat down upon it. "Oh," Danny cried out. "Oh... that feels so... wonderful."

"You mustn't say that," she cautioned him severely, but with a breathless manner at

the same time. "We are seeking only to rid you of the evil."

Danny found some courage. "Evil of what, ma'am?"

She cleared her throat as she sank down even farther over his cock, the warmth of her inner body driving him almost breathless from excitement. "Evil of the swollen parts, boy. A boy like you has no right to have a swollen part. It must be gotten rid of quickly."

"Yes, ma'am," Danny breathed. "Of course, ma'am. I want you to rid me of the swollen parts."

"Very well, boy," she said, her voice tight sounding and extremely intense. "Just you stay still, don't try to turn away from me or anything, and Mrs. Bush will take away the evil, the terrible evil of your swollen parts."

"That your name - Mrs. Bush?"

"That is my name, boy. Now please remain silent while I remove this evil swelling that you have."

By now Danny was more than willing to do anything at all that she requested. In fact, he had been willing from the very beginning, he realized. He also realized, or thought he did, that all her talk about removing the evil was just so much strange adult talk.

Just a cover-up for the real thing.

In this case the word was FUCK!

"Mrs. Bush," he said hesitantly as the lady moved up and down, her cunt caressing his prick, "what makes you so awful hot in your... insides?"

"That is nature, boy. It is meant to be hot, my - er - inner self. When it is hot it sucks the evil away from you."

"Oh," he groaned. "I think the evil is about to fly out of me... oh... I... "

"You mustn't let it fly too soon, boy," she said sharply. "Or else the evil will... remain with you."

Danny didn't even hear her. He had already exploded his warm, boy fluid into her cunt. He kept on flowing upward into her hole as if it were never going to stop. He was so frantic with ecstasy - that he barely noticed the way she was leaning over him, pumping his cock with her great cunt, using all the great skill that she possessed. He only knew that her hole was sucking something warm and wonderful out of him and that he wanted this beautiful feeling to go on and on and on. "Keep the evil flowing, boy," she grunted as she leaned over still more, almost to the point where he could have sucked on her titties had he lifted his head ever so little. This occurred to him, but he was afraid to do it for fear she might strike him. Adults were very odd people - you could never tell what was going to enrage them. But, God, how nice her titties looked dangling just about his face. How wonderful it would be to kiss them, to suck them, to...

Thinking this way caused him to flow even harder upward into her already filled cunt. "Oh," he moaned, shaking his head in desperation. "Oh... I like this."

"You mustn't talk that way, boy. Remember, I am helping to drain the evil out of your swellings."

"Oh... I think I'm going to drain some more, Mrs. Bush," Danny cried and sure enough he did so. Another shot of fluid erupted from his rigid cock and this caused the lady to pump his prick even harder.

"That's the way, boy," she moaned breathlessly. "Let the evil all come out of you."

"I'm trying, ma'am," he cried back. "I'm trying awful hard."

He looked at the lady on top of him and saw the terrible change come over her face. Her features became twisted out of shape, she seemed to be having trouble breathing, her eyes tightly closed, and her body becoming rigidly demanding. She shuddered violently, did so again, her eyes fluttered open briefly and frightened him with their intensity. Immediately she closed them and began to rock back and forth, instead of up and down only. This brought him to the peak of still another explosion and when finally he went past the peak and once more released inside of her, she actually screamed, and seemingly acted as if she had gone out of her head for the moment. However, she soon stopped this and collapsed on top of him, his still rigid cock buried deep in her hole. God, her hole was hot and wet and wonderful. God! From that day on, Danny came to her house every afternoon and she quietly let him in the side door. This part of the house was totally concealed from anyone's view because of the amount of tall bushes growing about her house. It was only occasionally that she brought up the subject of the evil swellings, but when she did, he said nothing about it, knowing it was her way of getting what she wanted from him without telling him directly that she wanted and needed his body.

As the days went by, Danny matured quickly.

About three weeks after his first experience with the lady called Mrs. Bush - he always thought of her as a lady and not as a woman - his parents went away on a fishing trip for the weekend, leaving him alone in the house. There was nothing unusual about this. His parents had done this three or four times before. They trusted Danny to stay alone in the house and keep out of mischief. They believed their son to be a good and capable boy.

As soon as his folks had left, he ran all the way to Mrs. Bush's house, tapped on her side door and stepped quickly inside when she opened it. To his disappointment, she was fully dressed. Usually she was half naked. Danny loved to come here and catch her half naked. The only thing better was to find her completely naked.

"Hello, boy," she said throatily. "I thought you weren't coming today, so I made plans to go out for dinner."

"Please don't go anywhere, ma'am. I got the hots for you again. I got 'em real bad. I need to have the evils sucked out of me, honest I do." It was true. Seeing her always gave him an instant hard-on.

Her dark eyes gleamed. "Did you say sucked out of you, boy?" she inquired breathlessly.

For a moment he thought he had made a terrible mistake. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Bush, I didn't mean to make you mad at me."

Mrs. Bush suddenly seemed terribly agitated. "I'm not going out for dinner, boy. I'm not hungry. Please get on the bed, but remove your - er - pants first. I think it is my duty to remain here and to - er - suck the evil from your - er... " She did not complete the statement but Danny understood.

His heart began to hammer unmercifully as he climbed onto the bed after practically tearing his pants off and throwing them aside. He was dimly aware of Mrs. Bush hastily disrobing and placing her garments over a chair. When she came to him, naked, and ran her hands up and down his bare thighs, Danny's cock was so hard it actually hurt.

"Oh, ma'am," he moaned. "What are you going to do to me this time?"

"I'm going to do," she said, breathing very hard now, "what you suggested I do. I am going to... suck out the evil from your bad thing."

"Oh, yes," Danny cried, delighted at her words, for he vaguely knew what she meant to do now. "There is an awful lot of evil in my thing today. Too much to fuck out... you need to suck it out, ma'am."

She had stopped in her tracks and was staring down at him severely. "You will please watch your language, for language, too, is an evil thing, boy."

Danny flushed. "I'm sorry, ma'am. I guess I'm just an evil boy for talking that way." She waved her hand. "No mind. Just so you recognize the evil." She stared at his long, hard cock. "My, it certainly has much evil in it today, boy. Much evil. It is fairly shaking with evil. Spread your legs, boy, and I shall attempt to suck the - er, drive the evil away."

"Oh, yes," he cried. "You must drive the evil out of me. It is terrible, this evil I have today. It is almost ready to explode on the bed, it is so awful."

"Don't do that," she barked sharply. Immediately, she changed her tone to a softer one. "What I mean is, if you lose it on the bed, the evil will return in greater force than before. You must allow me to take the evil from your body."

He took his cock between his thumb and forefinger and pointed it at her. "Bend over me and drive the evil out of me," he begged her. "Yes, yes, boy. I intend to do exactly that."

She bent over him, her great tits heaving unbelievably and as she touched the end of his cock with her lips lightly, her tits also touched him on the belly.

"Oh, your titties... they are beautiful, ma'am. Can I suck... I mean is there ever any evil in your titties?"

The glint in her dark eyes was something to behold. "Ah, yes, boy. There is often great evil in my - er - titties."

Immediately he reached out and touched them, taking one in each hand. He fondled them even at the risk of going off all over everything. Moving down on the bed a bit, he took one tit in his mouth and closing his eyes, he sucked on it frantically. Oh, the wonder of it! The beauty of it! The excitement of sucking a lady's tit. Danny thought his head was going to fly away or drop off his shoulders, so great was the excitement running through him now. He was barely conscious that she had turned her body about in such a fashion that they were lying in reverse positions, her long, puffy tit still in his mouth, as he continued sucking it, loving it for all he was worth. He knew something wild was happening when he felt a light wetness touching his cock. At first, he didn't know what it was. He only knew it felt terrific. He could not see her face, her hair covered it. As he shifted from the left tit to the right one, she sighed, and he felt something that was maddening going down over his cock, going down all the way to the hair, and suddenly he knew for certain what it was. Her lips. She was sucking his cock! How could she be doing this while he had her tit in his mouth? Was her tit that long? It must be, he concluded. Anyway, who cared about figuring out matters of this kind? The important thing was that she was sucking his cock. He could feel her doing it, could even hear the slight slurping sounds her mouth made as the warm wetness of her lips caressed him wonderfully.

He removed his mouth from her tit. "My folks went away for the weekend," he said. He waited to see if this would bring forth a reaction from her, but apparently she was going to ignore it for the moment at least. She said nothing but continued to mouth his stiff prick. God, it felt good! He wished she would keep on doing this all night long. Sensation after sensation passed through him, causing him to breathe erratically, making him perspire profusely, even causing strange chills to run through his being. He supposed these were just a part of the sexual feeling he was obtaining from her passionate lips. My, how wonderful it was to be nude and evil with this generous lady. She would suck the evil out of him just as she had previously taken it from him in other ways. He recalled that first time and the recollection of it made him shudder.

"Is something wrong?" she asked thickly, her face still covered by her dark hair.

"Nothing is wrong."

Immediately he felt the warm wetness of her lips about his cock again.

"Oh... " he moaned.

She moved and the move took her titties out of reach of his lips. He looked about for something else to kiss... and found it quickly. Her belly. He ran his tongue into her navel and heard her squeal and pat him on the butt. He wasn't sure if she were angry or not, but taking his courage in hand, he continued to run his tongue about in her navel. She squealed again and he felt her hand forcing his head down on her body. She brought his head near her cunt and he offered no resistance to this placement. He saw her great cunt open up, the lips spreading apart as if to welcome him. And then he felt another pressure at the back of his head. Knowing what she wanted from him, he bent his head forward and kissed the pubic hair. My, her hair was coarse and stiff - it felt like a brush of some kind. He stuck out his tongue and let it hunt through the expanse of hair for the exciting hole he knew was concealed somewhere beneath her furry mound. After some probing, he found the upper part of the hole, plunged his tongue in and was astonished at the wetness of the spot. The wetness and the warmth. He pulled back to look at the spot but could not see it, the hair having closed over it again. He felt the pressure of her hand against the back of his head again and this time she was urging him to continue, as he noted she had ceased sucking his cock.

"Don't stop," he begged. "You almost got the evil out of me, ma'am."

She grunted and again he felt wetness, the wetness of her lips about his throbbing prick.

"Oh... that feels good," he almost sobbed.

She slapped the rear of his head this time, which he knew meant stop talking and resume kissing. He sighed a little and dug his tongue into the deep hair again, found the wet spot and ran his tongue about experimentally. Her right leg lifted and came down over his head, her body turned on its side and he found himself locked in the most delightful position imaginable. Her cunt seemed to have opened up considerably and was actually reaching out to caress his lips and nose and chin. At least, it seemed to be doing this. He wondered if she could actually use her cunt like a person might use his fingers. Danny didn't know, but it did seem to him that her cunt was stroking his lips.

He kissed her cunt passionately. Apparently, Mrs. Bush liked this sort of evil very much, for she let out a groan that could have been heard halfway across the street had the doors and windows been open. Her belly seemed to pull in and then to protrude toward his head, in and out, in and out. He watched very carefully, trying to understand if there was something else she wanted him to do, and then it hit him.

She wanted him to fuck her, evil or no evil.

"But I can't fuck," he mumbled. "You have my cock in your mouth."

"Use your tongue, you fool," she barked severely. "And hurry on with it, boy." Scared, he darted his tongue into her wet hole and felt the hole close on it and actually hold it briefly. His tongue then slid out and he eagerly thrust it into the opening again as he heard her groan and felt her body shiver. She likes this, he thought. She ain't kiddin' me none. She likes the evil in me, and the evil in her, too. "Keep on with it, boy," she barked from somewhere higher up on the bed. He could not see her head at all now, for his eyes were too close to her crotch region. "Get the evil devil out of me." She pronounced "devil" to rhyme with "evil."

"Oh... yes... ma'am. I promise to suck out the evil devil."

"Then get sucking, boy." She slapped him on the back of his head with a hard whack.

Immediately Danny plunged his face into her cunt and felt her body shuddering as she opened up her great thighs momentarily and shifted over on her back with him on top of her. Her right leg was still about his neck, holding him firmly but not choking him. He found this to be very pleasurable and exciting because now he could make fucking movements with his loins while she sucked his cock and he kissed and tongued her wet cunt.

"I like to suck your cunt, ma'am," he heard himself say.

"Good boy," she said. "But hurry on with it. Mrs. Bush has much evil to be rid of today."

"Suck my evil out, too. Suck it real hard, ma'am."

He darted his tongue back into her cunt and was agreeably surprised when she held his head there with one hand and began a wild fucking movement against his face and tongue. At the same time, he began to fuck her mouth savagely and soon the inevitable happened. First, she shuddered and stiffened repeatedly and then he felt as if his head was coming off. In fact, he was certain his head was coming off until he exploded his come into her mouth, shooting it between her parted lips with great force, down over her fast-working tongue and permitting her to greedily swallow it and then to suck still more of it from him. At the same time his tongue was working her cunt at a very fast rate of speed. Both her hands held him against her cunt fiercely, her body convulsing several times before she could lay still, breathing in gasps.

Danny continued to lightly kiss the flesh around her cunt, the cunt itself, the hair, her belly, all of her lower body.

She pushed him away. "The evil has gone for now, boy. Get dressed. Go home.

Come back in two hours."

He sighed in a disappointed manner but there was nothing to do but to yield to her authority. He climbed off the bed, put on his pants quickly and without looking at her, left by way of the side door. He ran all the way home and when he got there, flopped down on the sofa and began to relive in his mind every little move she had made. He must have dropped off to sleep, for the next thing he knew, the room was dark and he was stumbling about trying to find the light switch.

The lights on, he sank down on the sofa, surprised that his pants were unzipped. He must have done this in his sleep, for he was certain he had zipped his fly at the lady's house.

Oh, well... what about it? What did it matter?

There was something that mattered, however. She had told him to return to her in two hours. Had two hours gone by... or had more time elapsed? Danny didn't know. The only way to find out was to run promptly back to her door, knock on it, and ask, which he did.

She was dressed in night clothing and looked sleepy. Stretching her arms high above her head, she looked at him through half-closed lids. "Thought you weren't coming back, boy," she said severely. "I had gone to bed. Know what time it is?" Danny shook his head nervously. He had goofed again, hadn't he? Damn it anyway!

Why was he so stupid?

"It's after midnight, boy. You'd better go home. Your folks will be wondering where you are."

He grinned. "No they won't, ma'am. I told you. At least, I think I told you. They went away for the whole weekend. I'm alone at home. I can stay... here and let you... fuck the evil out of me for... three whole days, ma'am."

"I do wish you wouldn't use that degrading word, boy," she said, blinking her eyes at him but looking at him in that very odd way she sometimes did when she seemed more concerned than usual about the evil that needed to be taken from him. "What's degrading, ma'am?"

"I was talking about your use of the word... fuck... I'd rather you not talk about fucking in my presence. Fucking is a very evil thing to talk about."

It seemed to him that she was using the word quite a bit considering it was so evil, but he said nothing about this. He was still afraid she was going to be offended in some unknown manner and then she might refuse to fuck with him. Oh, God, how he liked having her take the evil from him. Any old way was fine with him. She could either... fuck out the evil or... suck it out. Both ways were wonderful.

"Boy, aren't you ever going to listen to me when I'm talking?"

Danny jerked himself out of his private thoughts and stared at her. She had removed her nightdress and was now entirely naked as she stood in the middle of the room. "Come and kiss my tummy," she cried. "I have a very bad ache in my tummy." "Shall I take off my pants first, ma'am?" he asked innocently.

Mrs. Bush seemed almost startled by his question. "Oh, yes, by all means. That is - er - take off all your clothing, boy. Take it all off."

There was something about the way she spoke those last four words that made him become immediately erect. Erect and very, very hard. As he pulled off his clothing, he was careful to keep his back turned to her so as to hide his cock from her as long as possible. When he finally turned around and faced her, her eyes bulged at the sight of his enormous prick. She caught her breath and even her face changed its expression. It was the first time he had ever noticed her to be openly excited and this fact did something wild to him. Danny wanted to do something entirely different than he had ever done. It might be considered by her to be the greatest evil of all, but he had to tell her.

"Ma'am," he said hesitantly. "Instead of kissing your tummy, can I shoot my tool up your asshole, please?"

It seemed as if a half hour passed by before she stopped frowning at him, had stopped looking at him in such a severe and angry manner. During this long interval of time he had alternately shivered, shuddered and worried.

"Come here, boy. Do you know you are most evil tonight... the most you have ever been?"

"Am I, ma'am?" he asked innocently, his cock quivering with eagerness.

"You are. Indeed you are. The devil himself is inside of you tonight."

"Is there some way you can get him out of me?" he asked, not quite so innocently. "I think you're playing games with me, boy." She cleared her throat. "Are you playing fuck games with me, boy?"

"I thought you said not to use that word, ma'am," he said with spirit.

She had reddened slightly. "Hmm, the filthy word slipped past my lips, boy. It's the evil in you that does it to me."

"It does it to me, too, ma'am," he cried, pointing at his cock.

She sighed and frowned at the same time.

"Ah, yes, we must do something about the very great evil you possess tonight. Now... "what was it you wanted to... do, boy?"

He took a deep breath, let the air out and told her bluntly. "I want to stick it up your pretty asshole."

The lady sighed again. "Oh, dear, you are lost, I'm afraid. I never saw so much evil in one so young."

"May I stick it up your ass and get rid of it, ma'am?" he persisted.

She walked to the bed, leaned over and rested her hands on a table. "I'm afraid you

will have to in order to rid yourself of so very much evil, boy."

"You mean I can ram it up your asshole, ma'am?"

The lady bit her lips. "Please do not talk that way so much. It is a sign of an even greater evil. However... you must do as the devil in you suggests. It is the only way we can rid you of that terrible creature."

"All right. I won't say anything more about fucking you up the asshole, ma'am. I'll just ram it in and get rid of the devil."

She sighed and moved a bit, spreading her great legs in the process. "Precisely now, precisely."

Danny was not too sure of what that word meant, but he went to her, holding his cock in his left hand while he placed his right arm about her body. God, getting up close to her ass felt good. Her ass just seemed to fit the contour of the front of him. He used both hands in pulling apart the cheeks of her butt until he saw just where the tiny hole was located. Then, trying to remember it as he was forced to straighten up somewhat, he took his cock in hand and stabbed at the place where the hole should have been.

It wasn't the right place.

He stabbed again.

And again.

The lady solved the problem. She grasped his prick, stuffed it in her asshole, and holding him tightly to her behind, fell over onto the bed, with Danny already pumping his cock into her hole with as much speed and energy as he could muster, which was considerable.

"Slow it down, boy. Mustn't let the evil out too fast, you know."

He ignored her remark and said something that had little bearing on it. "Why do you let me do this to you, ma'am?"

"Because," she grunted, "I have a duty to extract the evil from as many - er - young boys as I possibly can."

Danny didn't bother with asking any more such questions. He simply pumped his cock in and out of her very tight asshole much in the manner of a male dog in back of a bitch. He had often seen male dogs topping bitches on the street, had noticed the fast, wild manner in which the male dog invariably worked. He had patterned his own fuck style on this. It seemed to work for Danny.

The lady underneath appeared to be enjoying it very much... as much as she would permit enjoyment to enter into the evil process, of course, he reminded himself. He must not let his imagination go too far astray. After all, she had told him she was only interested in helping boys rid themselves of the "evil." He wondered, later, how many boys she had "helped."

Before he had time to prevent it, he blew his wad, shooting up into her asshole. She waited until the squirting stopped and then with something resembling a wild animal roar, she pushed him off her, only to turn over and lie flat on her back. He started to move away from her but she grabbed him and pulled him down on top of her, her great legs going about his body and fastening together like a human vise, holding him in position as she put his still hard cock into the wetness and the heat of her cunt.

Danny obediently fucked the evil out of himself again and this time deposited it in her cunt.

Then they lay quiet for a long time. When his cock finally became soft, she pushed him off gently and spoke to him, her lush lips close to his ear. "Now, you see, you are a good boy. The evil is gone from you. You must thank me for doing this great service to you."

"Oh, I do thank you, Mrs. Bush," he cried quickly. "I thank you very much."

"Ah, yes," she said, breathing deeply. "But those are merely words. There are other, better ways to thank me, boy."

"I'll thank you any way you want it done, Mrs. Bush," he cried passionately. "Hmm... let me think," she mused. "What way would I like best to be thanked?" "Could I maybe kiss it?" he asked bluntly.

She lifted her head from the bed and looked down at him. "Kiss my what, boy? What are you talking about?" There was a sudden return of her former severity of tone. He hesitated out of sudden fear of her. "I guess I didn't mean that, ma'am," he mumbled.

"You didn't mean what, boy?" she barked at him, her great tits heaving wonderfully.

"I didn't mean to say anything about kissing it," he mumbled.

"And again I say, kiss what, boy?"

Danny took a deep breath and let it out quickly. "Kiss your cunt, ma'am."

She shook her head savagely. "There you go again... using vile language in my presence. Haven't I taught you anything at all yet?" "Yes, ma'am," he answered quickly.

"Then what have I taught you, boy? Hurry now. Speak up."

"You... taught me to get rid of the evil."

"And... how did I teach you to get rid of the evil, boy?" she demanded, her face close to his, her dark eyes snapping.

"One way was by... sucking my cock, ma'am," he stammered.

She reddened slightly and he noticed her breathing was growing heavy again, as it often did when she talked about the evil in him. "And what other way have I taught you, boy?"

"Taught me what?" he asked, puzzled now.

"What other way have I taught you to rid yourself of the evil?"

"Oh... by sticking my cock in your cunt and letting it fuck me off."

Again the lady reddened a little and breathed heavily. "There were other ways, too, weren't there, boy? Tell me what they were."

"Well... you sat on my prick and made me fuck you... that was the first time you spotted the evil in me."

"You are correct, boy. And now, boy, what did you do to me recently?" "Fucked your cunt," he blurted.

She reddened again. "Before that, boy."

"I rammed my cock up your asshole, and... "

"That's enough, boy. Don't tell me anymore."

Danny was scared again. "Are you mad at me for saying that, ma'am?" She smiled strangely. "No, boy, not mad. I never get mad at boys for being possessed by the evil."

"You like evil in boys?"

Again she smiled strangely. "Let me put it this way, boy. The evil is there in you. I can see it right now, this very moment. It needs to be taken from you again. I think the best thing for me to do is to start all over again with you, put you through the course of teaching I have already put you through. Maybe the second time around you'll learn to combat the evil all by yourself."

"What are you going to do to me now, ma'am?" he asked, his pulse racing again. "The same thing I did to you that first time. I'm going to draw the evil from that thing again, using my body above you. Of course, I have to see the evil in you first, don't I, boy?"

Danny knew what she meant. The evil rose in him immediately. She went above his body, settled herself down carefully, wrapping her cunt lips about his evil erection.

Chapter THREE

In the first two chapters we examined two different types of women, both of whom were extremely interested in fucking with young boys. In the first chapter we took a detailed look at Edna White, a somewhat prim schoolteacher whose primness disappeared considerably when a youngster was close at hand. In the second chapter we studied the hypocritical Mrs. Bush, who claimed she was interested only in removing the "evil" from boys.

We now examine still another type of female boy-lover. Her actions are clothed under various medical terminology - she is the female counterpart of the male molester. But in her case there is an exception - those whom she molested, generally boys in their early teens, seemed to enjoy the molestation greatly. Her name was Jeri Brown. She was thirty-seven years old, had been divorced for several years and lived alone. She wore her blond hair short and many people took her at first appearance to be a Lesbian. This she was not. She simply did not like men. She liked boys, young boys. However, Jeri had difficulty in finding the males she so craved. She liked to drive about in her car and pick them up and take them either into the country and park, or take them home with her if she thought they were the type able to keep a tight lip. Jeri was editor of a small woman's magazine and as such, she had to be rather careful about her personal life - many of the women wouldn't buy her magazine if they thought she indulged in unusual sexual activities. Jeri indulged in very unusual sexual activities from the point of view of the average person.

It was a Friday evening and she was driving about town looking for the right kind of boy to pick up. There seemed to be no boys out on the street this night. Sighing, she parked her car after a time and entered a bar and had a quick drink. She would have liked several drinks, it being Friday night, but she didn't want to spend a long time in the bar for fear of some man wanting to pick her up. This was not what Jeri was interested in - she wanted to do the picking, and it had to be a young boy. Definitely a boy!

She climbed back into her car, started the motor and drove down the street. After a few minutes she thought she might as well head for home and forget about boys for this evening. When she arrived near her home, she saw a youngster standing at the corner, lighting a cigarette. He looked to be about fourteen. Quickly she drove the car into her garage, climbed out and walked rapidly toward the corner, her heart beating faster as she approached the young man. The boy was quietly standing there. Good. She went right up to him.

"Hey," she said.

The boy turned around, looked her up and down, grinned, took a drag on his cigarette, grinned again, and proceeded to look her over again. She was an eyeful and she knew it. Then he smirked, took one more drag and tossed the cigarette away. "You a whore?" he asked softly.

She had been asked this same question before and knew how to handle it. "No," she said, going very close to him and speaking softly. "I don't charge for it and I don't give it to just anybody. I happen to like boys your age. Want to come inside with me and let me see what you have between your legs?"

His mouth went slack. "You kidding? I mean, do you live near here somewhere?"

"Yes. Come along with me. I promise to show you the time of your life."

"How do I know you ain't some pig, or something?"

"You mean a cop? Female cops don't go around picking up boys."

The boy scratched his head. "Yeah, guess you're right. All right, lead the way." This was almost exactly the way she liked to have it happen - find a young boy who thought he was very wise about things (and who might very well be, to an extent) and who was immediately willing to go somewhere with her. Once she got his cock out of his pants... he would be ready to do anything she wanted him to do. It almost always turned out this way for she had found that it was very difficult for a young boy to resist a sexual experience. But she did have to be careful not to be too aggressive, for she had found this could very easily frighten off her young prey. A young boy was one big bundle of raw sex nerves, she knew, and was glad of it. They walked quickly to her driveway and she motioned for him to follow her up to the rear door. It was better to enter by way of the rear door. Safer and far from inquisitive eyes of neighbors. There was no point in permitting others to see her entering in the company of a young boy. Once they were inside, she closed the door and put her arms about the youngster.

"How old are you?" she asked softly.

He laughed softly. "Old enough for what you want. Say, how about a little light in this place? It's kind of dark."

She removed her arms after kissing his face quickly and turned on a soft light. She turned and studied him. He looked to be about fifteen, had blond, quite long hair that was fairly well combed, and wore faded jeans with a faded shirt that was open in front. He was not wearing a T-shirt, and she saw he had very little hair on his chest. His flesh seemed to be well tanned.

"You always pick up guys and bring them home and fuck 'em?" he asked bluntly. She was pleased with his talk. She liked blunt talk from young boys. "Only the ones who appeal to me. Tell me, have you got quite a long one?" She smiled at him nicely and permitted her tits to heave slightly, provocatively.

"It's pretty good. You sure you ain't no cop?"

"Don't be absurd. Come into the living room." She led the way and once in the living room, turned on another dim light and looked at him again. "Want to tell me your name?" she asked. "Name's Joe."

"Got a last name?"

"You don't need that before we fuck, do you?"

She smiled at him as he stood just inside the doorway. "No, I don't need your last name."

"You just need a young cock. Right?"

Again Jeri smiled. "Correct. I need a good, young cock. Why don't you take off your pants, Joe? Let me see how much you got."

He gave his head a shake. "Say... are you some kind of nut?"

"No. Not at all. I like young guys. I'm not married so why not?" He nodded. "You live here alone, eh?"

"Yes."

"Ain't you scared I might knock you over the head, fuck you and steal everything you've got?"

"I've thought about it. But you don't look the type. I think you're the kind of guy who likes his pussy too much to bother with the other stuff."

"Think so, huh?" He moved closer to her, his hands thrust down deeply into his pockets. "You ever suck a guy off, lady?"

This didn't upset Jeri at all. She liked it. "Why do you ask? Is that what you go for instead of the real thing?"

"Getting sucked off is the real thing, too, lady."

She nodded and kept her eyes on his face. His face was thin but not unpleasant to look at. He was, in fact, not a bad looking boy at all. "Why don't you take out your... cock... and let me see it," she said, looking away from him for just an instant and then training her eyes back on him quickly. "Thought you wanted me to take off my pants?"

She placed her hands over her tits and breathed deeply. "Well... do something, or we'll be standing here all night talking."

"You in a hurry to get shafted, lady?"

She smiled. "Take your time, if you want to." She looked away again for an instant. "I understand how it is with some guys."

"Don't worry, lady. I got a hard-on already, if that's what you're talking about."

"Take your pants off," she said, growing impatient with him. "Let me see it."

"You're really hot, ain't you? What's your name, lady?"

She shrugged. "Jeri."

"No last name?"

"You don't need it, but I'll tell you if you want to know."

"Never mind. Say, why haven't you got your clothes off?"

"All right. Want me to undress in front of you? Is that it?"

"Yeah, I'd like to see that."

"All right, I'd like to do it, too." Jeri stripped off her dress quickly and stood before him clad only in bra and pantyhose. She never wore anything beneath her pantyhose, at least when she was going out on the town. This gave her a feeling of recklessness that she enjoyed at such times. "There," she said. "How do you like it so far?" "Haven't seen much yet," he said, but she noted his voice had changed its pitch, which was certain indication that something was happening to him, something sexy and good. "Let me see your tits, lady." "You can call me Jeri," she smiled.

"Hmm. That's nice. I like that name."

She glanced at him quickly. "Get on with it," she ordered. "I brought you here to have some sex fun. Do you want to have some or not?"

"Sure. I wouldn't mind fucking you, Jeri." "Thanks," she said, not without some dryness.

He laughed. "Don't get uptight about me. I'm not a bad guy. I just can't believe what's happening to me."

She sighed and smiled almost at the same time. "I think I understand that." She unhooked her bra, watching him carefully every moment, and tossed the bra away. Her tits were lovely and when they sprang out, freed from the confinement of the bra, the boy stared at them hard. He moistened his lips. "Do they please you, Joe?" she asked softly.

"Jesus, lady, you got yourself a sweet pair of knockers there. Man!"

"I'm glad you like them, Joe."

"I'd like to suck 'em a bit later. Right now, I'd like to see you take off your pantyhose and shoes."

She removed her shoes quickly and began to push the hose down over her hips, but not quite far enough down to reveal her cunt. "I think you had better strip, too, Joe. I don't like to have a boy make me when he's dressed."

The kid was naked in nothing flat, it seemed. She stared at his nudity and felt the old wild passion spread over her as it always did when she first glimpsed a young boy's nakedness. His cock was very hard, she noted happily. Very hard and very long.

Good. She liked long ones.

"Do you like what you see, lady?" His lips were parted and through the dim light Jeri noted that he was perspiring heavily.

"Yes. You have a good body, Joe." She pushed off her pantyhose and threw them aside, standing tall, allowing her tits to heave considerably. "Do you like the way I look, Joe?"

"I told you before. You look great to me. Your legs are real good, lady, and you're getting me pretty damn hot."

"Want to fuck, Joe?" she asked wantonly.

He grinned somewhat nervously. "Yeah," he said, somewhat hesitantly. "Of course I want to fuck, lady. Ain't that what you brought me here for?"

"You like to fuck in bed, on the floor - where?" She eyed him lustfully. She could feel the desire building deep within her.

It was building in him, also. His eyes had a look of intense excitement in them, although he appeared to be trying to show her what a cool cat he was. "I'll fuck you any old place, lady. Stick it into you any old way. You name it. I'll do it."

"Let's go to bed then, Joe. Follow me." She led the way to her bedroom door and he followed. She didn't turn on the bedroom light, but stretched out her hand to him. He took it and clasped it with considerable strength. She liked that, too. Men and boys should have strength in their hands. Sometimes she thought she could tell almost how good a boy would be in bed - just by the strength of his handshake.

She led him straight to the bed and falling down upon it, pulled him down on top of her. His hot young body started fucking at her immediately, like a male dog going after a bitch in heat. His cock was striking her legs, her hips, her belly, everywhere but her cunt. Turning on her back and pulling on his arms, she got him to top her in a better position so that now she could reach between their bodies and grasp his hot, rubbery prick. It thrilled her to touch it, just as it always thrilled her to touch a male organ, especially such a youthful cock. She thrust the head of it into her cunt and at the same time he pushed hard. His prick shot into her and she groaned loudly. He pulled back, adjusted his position somewhat, and thrust deeply into her again, with determination.

"Oh... " she groaned. "You do have a big one, Joe. Now use it. Fuck the hell out of me, baby."

He snorted but said nothing.

"Fuck me, baby," she repeated, wanting him to talk "dirty" to her.

"I am fucking you, lady. What do you think I'm doing?"

"Ah... " she moaned when he began to slow down a little and to strike her sensitivities more properly. "Ah... that is good. Stroke me long, Joe... stroke me long and slow. I love it. I love to fuck."

"Yeah," he responded, grunting the word. "I don't mind a good piece of ass myself. How about you Frenching me later?"

"We'll do a sixty-nine, Joe," she gasped as he rammed his cock into her brutally. "Jesus, you got a tight cunt, lady. It really grabs my prong and hangs on."

"Oh... fuck me good, Joe," she begged him, hoping he would continue speaking to her in this manner.

"I'm fucking your tight cunt, lady, as best I can. If you don't like my fucking, say so." In answer, she wrapped her legs and arms about him tightly. She also pushed her cunt up to him and tried to hold it high, but his rapid, powerful, battering strokes forced her to lay back flat on the bed. She wished she had thought to put a pillow under her ass, but no matter. His cock was young and hard and what else really mattered, except that it was deep inside her cunt? God, how wonderful it was to live this way, to go out and pick up a strange young boy and bring him home and take all he had. There was no thrill like it in all the world for Jeri. None at all. She almost pitied the ordinary housewife with her one-shot husband. Even now, as she was being hammered vigorously by such young cock, a small trace of scorn crept through her and her mouth puckered as if in disdain for any sexually unsatisfied woman. She had no more time for thinking - she had her first sudden, wild orgasm, the kind she constantly strived to enjoy. Wild, quick, sudden, unexpected, that was the way she liked an orgasm to be. Usually it was a building process... this was all right, too, but the wild, sudden ones... they were fabulous.

"Oh... baby... " she moaned. "You're good."

"So I've been told, lady." He did not appear to be holding back through any overdose of modesty.

Jeri didn't mind. In fact, she rather liked a male who bragged about his powers, provided that same male could back up his words with appropriate cock action.

"Do it to me," she cried, sounding for the moment like a very young girl.

He did it. He blew off in her suddenly, hotly, violently, the thick stream striking her inner body in such quantities that it caused her to have a second orgasm which was even better than the first. She kept on trembling with orgasmic ecstasy all during the time he emptied his cock juice into her cunt.

Then he stopped moving in her and just lay quietly on top of her, his breathing hectic, matching the pace of hers. She could feel the ooze of his sweat as it trickled from his pores down over her flesh. She liked the feel of it. She sighed and moved a little and for some reason this caused him to ejaculate again, but in much smaller quantity.

"Jesus Christ!" he cried. "You sure make me damn hot, lady." Again his come dribbled into her love pot. Then very quickly he pulled out of her cunt and jumped out of the bed. "Where's the can?" he asked.

She sat up, reached for the chain on the bed-lamp and gave it a pull. Light flooded the room and she glanced quickly at the window to make certain the shade was drawn. It was. She pointed at the bathroom door without speaking, but the boy just stood there, momentarily, before moving toward it.

"You got a hell of a great-looking body, lady. And you fuck real good, too." He left the room and was gone for quite a time. When he came back he stood at the foot of the bed and looked at her body. "How come?" he asked, frowning.

"How come what, Joe?" she asked in return.

"How come a great-looking broad like you has to pick up guys my age?" She smiled and sat up and stretched her arms high, partly because she felt like stretching and partly because she knew it was an erotic thing to do. "I don't have to pick up young guys like yourself, believe me, Joe. I could have all the men I want coming here. I'm not boasting. It's true. It just happens that I like guys your age... boys, if you don't mind my calling you that. Boys turn me on, some boys, that is. Some don't. Some are... well, the mama's boy type... I can't stand them."

He nodded. "I know what you mean. A girl flings her ass at 'em and they get scared and run for home. Know something?"

"What?" she asked, stretching her arms high again above her head.

"I ain't that way and never was. I screwed a girl when I was only eleven years old." Jeri just looked at him.

"You don't believe that, do you, lady?"

She shrugged. "Why shouldn't I believe it? Of course I believe it. After all, I've just seen what you can do with your cock."

He came around to the side of the bed and stood there, his prick hanging limply. "I just washed it," he said with obvious reference to his cock.

"Oh... and why did you wash it, Joe?" Her pulse was racing a little now.

"Because I'd like you to French me. Will you, huh?"

She eyed him curiously. "Yes, of course I'll French you, Joe. However, I want a drink first. Do you mind?" Without waiting for his answer she got off the bed and walked into the living room where she poured herself a drink of straight whiskey. She tossed it down and felt the burn of it all the way to her stomach.

"Hey," he said from behind her. "How about me getting some of the juice? I like it, too."

She turned about and looked at him doubtfully. "All right," she agreed. "Not too much, though. Whiskey fouls up some boys, you know." She really didn't mean this, but it was something to say.

"Don't worry, lady. I'm good for all night stuff. My cock will keep working for a hell of a long time - just as long as you can handle it."

"What does that mean, Joe?" she asked, fingering her naked tits to draw his attention to them.

He poured himself a drink. "You got some Coke or anything?"

"Behind you. No ice, though."

He got the Coke and mixed it in his glass. "Don't care about ice, anyway. Stuff's supposed to burn you, ain't it?" "Not necessarily."

He down his mixture slowly, now and then glancing at the two shapely tits so close to him, Jeri's lower body being partially hidden by the bar as he stood on the other side of the counter. Making a face, he looked at the drink and then sipped it again. "Kind of good stuff," he said, as if attempting to make her believe he was used to drinking. She doubted this very much. "This stuff makes me real horny sometimes," he mumbled.

"Good," she said, laughing softly. "I like my boys to be real horny."

He smacked his lips, reached over and cupped his hand on one of her tits. "You sure are some hot bitch, ain't you, lady?"

Jeri didn't mind him calling her that. She just smiled at him. "Right. I sure am one hot bitch, Joe. I like to fuck, the more the better." Somehow, she felt when she spoke that way it didn't come out sounding nearly as vulgar as some people might think.

She realized she might be kidding herself in this respect, but what did that matter.

There had to be some areas where a woman could kid herself.

"You're a hot bitch, lady, and I'm a hot guy. Know something? My cock's aching to get into you again. Why, I can fuck you right there on the floor. Would you like to get fucked again, lady?" His eyes burned into hers and she saw they were filled with eager lust.

"Why don't you sit on that stool, Joe?" she told him, her voice trembling from excitement. She indicated the stool as if he were incapable of knowing one from a chair. Well, after all, he was only a boy, wasn't he? Hold it, her mind whispered to her. Don't be condescending toward him - he'll sense it and his fucking performance won't be as good as it can be.

He climbed on the stool, his legs spread widely apart, his prick standing straight up now. She came around the bar, stood before him, her hands feeling her tits with decided passion.

"I believe I'll French your... " she started to say, but stopped and started over. "Think I'll take you orally, Joe. I'm sure you'd like that, wouldn't you?" She watched his eyes as they became even more lust-filled.

"Yeah," he answered hoarsely. "Sure would, lady. French my cock. Look at it. It's almost dancing." He pointed to his ramrod erection.

Jeri found a hassock, pulled it in front of the stool, and sank down on it, positioning herself between his legs. Immediately he pressed his knees together, touching each of her sides just below her arms. She pulled back slightly because this limited her in bending her head to take him in. Finally, when even the new position didn't work out to her satisfaction, she asked him to pull back his knees. He complied and sat there, leaning his arms back on the bar, his facial expression one of extreme lust, his legs widely spread once again.

Jeri took his cock gingerly in her hand and rubbed it gently. The boy moaned softly and tried to grasp her neck to pull her face down quickly to his crotch, but she was having none of this at the moment. Resisting him successfully, she cautioned him about use of force, smiling as she did so, to ease any resentment he might have. Then as she continued to jack his cock, she ran her tongue down his chest to his navel, went into it, made little circling motions, then went lower to the base of his prick and took it in her mouth sideways, and playfully, much in the manner one bits into a hamburger. He moaned and jerked his body about, so she removed her mouth and laughing lightly, looked up at him.

"You want surprises, don't you, Joe?" she asked, knowing this might sound confusing to him.

However, it did not appear to confuse him at all. "Yeah, I like lots of surprises. That

little bite thing was a good one, but it kind of... scared me for a second."

She laughed lightly again. "I promise not to bite it off all at once."

"Hey, don't talk that way, lady. Jesus, that scares a guy."

Again Jeri laughed. "Don't be scared, Joe. I'm only teasing you. I love it too much to ever bite it off." She could not resist teasing him once more. "At least," she added, "I think I do."

Much to her astonishment, he jumped from the stool after knocking her hand away from his cock and moved across the room from her, his drink in his hand. He lifted the glass to his lips and finished off the drink and set the glass down on a nearby table. "I guess I'd better be going," he said suddenly. "I don't want my cock bitten off. Hell, no. And I can tell by the look on your face. That's what you just might do, lady." "Oh, but that's nonsense, Joe," she protested, alarmed now that she had gone too far with her teasing. "Please come back. Tell you what. You can... go down on me...

if you want to... I'll sit on the stool and spread my legs and you can kneel on the hassock. What do you think of that, Joe?"

He worked his mouth about considerably. "Get up on the stool, lady," he said after a moment's silence. "Let's see what happens."

Happily and with some relief, she climbed onto the stool and sat there watching him intently as he crossed the room and came back to her. She saw him kneel on the hassock, push his hair out of his eyes, look at her cunt, then at her tits, heard him sigh, swear softly, and then felt his lips kissing her belly. Jeri closed her eyes as her emotions began to grow. His mouth moved about on her belly, his tongue running over her flesh as he brought his lips higher until she felt them tugging, sucking on her right tit. Another moment of breathless passion and then he moved to her left tit. Her eyes again tightly closed as she felt the sensations running up and down her spine, her nerve ends tingling, her cunt lubricating.

"Lower, Joe. Kiss me lower down, please." She was surprised at the begging quality of her tone.

His lips and tongue worked their way downward until she felt his tongue darting into her pubic hair. Sighing deeply, he plunged his tongue into her. "Oh... my God... " she moaned, rising off the stool in her agitation.

He pulled away from her, took two steps and then stopped. "I don't want this," he said. "I'm not... ready for it."

Jeri understood, but it was maddening to have him treat her this way. Still, if a person didn't want to do a certain thing in the area of sex, well, then the person didn't have to, and that was that. It never paid to attempt to induce someone to try something or to keep on doing something he began once he had shown distaste for it. She knew this well from past experience.

"You find my cunt repelling?" she heard herself ask him.

"Hell, no," he said quickly. "It's just that damned whiskey I drank. It made my stomach queasy. I'm not... used to whiskey, lady, and that's the truth." She sighed, feeling vastly relieved. "Oh, I understand you now. I'm sorry." "I think I'd better get dressed and cut out," he said darkly.

She stiffened. "Do you have to, Joe?" she asked.

"Don't worry. If it's okay with you, I'll be back tomorrow night. Say about nine o'clock. Is that all right with you?"

Although she was greatly disappointed, she nodded. "All right, Joe. Get dressed and go. Come tomorrow night. And for Pete's sake, don't drink anything then. Okay?" "Okay," he said shortly.

Jeri did not move from the stool. She simply sat there and waited for him to dress hurriedly. He did not speak to her again but left by way of the rear door. Sighing, she stepped down from the stool, went to the rear of the house and locked the door. Sighing again, she returned to the bar, had a quick- drink, turned out all the lights and went to her bedroom. She fell onto the bed, nude, and was quickly embraced by a hard sleep.

Shortly before nine the following evening she was almost to the point of biting her nails, she was so excited at the probability of seeing the boy again. This time, she told herself, she would fuck him half to death, or French him, or anything he wanted.

Maybe she had better be careful about offering to suck him - let him ask for it. Yes. That would be better. She well remembered his fear when she had lightly and playfully lip-bitten his cock the night before.

She laughed nervously. "What a nutty deal that was," she said aloud. "He really was scared."

She began to pace the large living room, walking from one end to the other. She had purposely worn only a brief halter and hot pants, nothing more below, about, or underneath. She knew she looked appealing. But there was a problem - Joe had not yet arrived and it was now fifteen minutes after nine. She drew in her breath when she realized it was so late.

"Where the hell did the time go?" she asked herself. She was about to say something else aloud when she heard a tapping sound at the rear of the house. She forced herself to walk, not run, to the back door. Calling out, she quickly confirmed that it was indeed Joe, and then she opened the door wide. He entered quickly and she was surprised to see he wasn't wearing his faded jeans and shirt. He definitely looked different wearing a light suit, striped shirt and a wide tie. "Well, Joe," she said, "you look ten years older. What's happened?"

He grinned and slipped his arm about her waist. Instantly she smelled the beer, or whatever, on his breath. "Hi, baby," he said intimately. "Ready to fuck?"

She smiled at him, amazed at the difference in his looks. "Are you the same guy or are you someone else?" she asked playfully.

"I figured if I was going to spend an evening with a lady I should dress a little better,

so I borrowed my brother's clothes. How do I look? Kind of dumb, huh?" "You look fine. But of course I prefer you with no clothing on, you know."

He grinned. "I thought about that on the way here. Crazy deal, ain't it? Guy gets all dressed up to show his girl... er... his woman... how good he looks... and all he does is take off his clothes."

"Well at least you let me see you dressed up. I like that. I mean I still like it, but I do want you to take off your clothes. It would be a shame to fuck in those clothes of your brother's."

He grinned again. "Yeah, I get your point. No use in letting my brother get in on your cunt."

"How old is your brother?" she asked, wishing he would start removing his clothes.

After all, she was practically naked, and she wanted him to be likewise.

"Nineteen. He's kind of square, though."

"You're not square, are you, Joe?"

"Naw. I've been around too many hip guys."

"Take off your clothes, Joe, and let's get to fucking. I've been waiting for you for a damn long time."

"Right."

Soon they were in her bedroom, both naked. He was standing over the bed, watching her hanging his suit and shirt on hangers, to prevent them from becoming wrinkled. He was grinning at her as if he appreciated being "fussed" over and when she hung up his clothing, he came to her and kissed her titties repeatedly. She stood still in the middle of the room, enjoying his passionate caresses, wishing he would go between her legs and lap at her cunt. Perhaps he still would. She would see. First she knew she must fuck him beautifully, then later he might show his appreciation for her by going down on her. She very much wanted him to go down on her. The night before he had refused her cunt. Her ego needed his sucking tonight - her cunt juices were flowing heavily in eagerness of his hot, young tongue.

He pushed her toward the bed. She permitted his movement. They crashed down on top of it and he was instantly between her thighs, pumping his hard cock at her cunt lips, but not entering. She waited, giving him some time to accomplish a penetration, but when she was certain he was not going to be successful in this respect, she seized his cock and aimed it at her hole. He moaned and thrust at her and she felt the rock-hard flesh entering her deeply. She groaned even as he moaned again, and almost instantly she felt him hitting her most sensitive spot. "Oh... that's... so good," she breathed, and kissed his face wetly.

He responded by sticking his tongue in her mouth and each time he pulled his prick out, he would thrust his tongue deep into her mouth. She found this to be instantly delightful and exhilarating and was not surprised when she had a quick orgasm that left her breathless and nowhere near satisfied. She tried fucking him and this time, by being very careful, she found she could do it. He was not bearing down as heavily as he had the previous night when she had tried this same action, to no avail. Jeri rather liked fucking in this manner. Up-fucking, that's what it was. There was something about it that was extremely worthwhile, while at the same time exhausting.

"How does my cock feel?" he asked, removing his tongue from her mouth. "I mean, is it hard enough? Am I hitting it where it needs to be hit?"

This sort of consideration really surprised her. The boys she had known... well, almost none of them had any thought other than to ram it in and blow off quickly. There was nothing really wrong about this in young boys, for youthful cocks can fuck several times in any one-hour period. Of this she was well aware. Still, blowing off in a great hurry was a form of selfishness that always left her dissatisfied, no matter how tolerant she might try to be of the youth ramming it into her cunt.

"Fuck me," she cried softly.

He did not quite understand her. "Huh?" he grunted. "What?"

"Never mind. Just fuck me good, Joe. God, your cock is large tonight, large and lovely."

"Your cunt's what makes me big and... well, you know. Your cunt is just awful tight... it feels like crazy good, you know."

"Fuck me, darling," she moaned and pushed up at him several times before he began to press down hard on her body.

"Let me do the fucking, lady," he grunted roughly into her ear.

"All right," she agreed. "Shaft me good, baby."

"Ain't what I'm doing good enough?" he asked, grunting the words again.

"Yes. Keep on with it... oh... I'm coming. Oh, Jesus . Joe... faster... "

He took that moment to blow off in her and she could have killed him for it, but the thing was done and when he finally stopped pumping his cock into her and had withdrawn it, she could only lay there and silently curse him. She had been reasonably certain that this kid was not the type to blow prematurely, but he had not followed her prediction.

"Where are you going?" she asked, as she saw him climb off the bed.

"Going to wash my cock, lady," he said eyeing her oddly.

She felt a thrill run through her. Did this mean he now wanted her to French him, that he had forgotten about his fear of being "bitten"? She hoped so.

When he returned to the room, he got upon the bed again and sat down gingerly on her belly, careful not to let all his weight press down on her. His prick was limp now, but as he moved upward a little and she licked her lips, she saw it extend itself slightly. She purposely licked her lips again and sure enough, his cock became longer, firmer, more appealing.

"Hey," he exclaimed. "It's growing just because of your smacking your lips. How about that?"

"Sit up higher on me and put it between my lips," she suggested, her heart hammering violently at the anticipation of being able to suck on it.

He moved up gingerly. "Don't... do any of that biting stuff, now, will you, lady?"

"No. I'll just suck it, Joe. Oh, I want to suck your thing so much."

He laughed shortly. "I'd like to have you suck it."

She was absolutely fascinated by the fully erect cock now dangling before her eyes.

"Bring it closer, Joe, so I can kiss it off."

He moved up a bit and she kissed the end of his prick. Immediately a squirting took place. It struck her directly in the face, but she only lay there and laughed softly, loving it, every bit of it.

"You liked that, didn't you?" he asked, grinning sheepishly. "I was just going to say I was sorry when I saw how you acted. Suck me, kiss me, keep doing it to me. Maybe

I'll blow in your face again."

"Please... in my mouth this time." Jeri made no move to wipe his come from her face. She was surprised when he used a corner of the sheet to do it for her. "Thank you," she said, "but stick it in my mouth, baby."

He got up on his hands and knees and moved over her, finally allowing his body to settle down lightly over her face. Frantically she sought out his cock, found it with her hand and inserted it between her wet lips. Immediately she began to suck it furiously, as he began a slow fucking movement which did not bother her at all, but enhanced the act for her.

"Jesus, this is great. Man, am I ever glad you picked me up on the street. I'm gonna fuck you in the cunt and the mouth steady from now on."

She did not choose to tell him at that moment that she alone would be the one to decide on that. Nor did she tell him that in all likelihood, he would never again get on top of her. Twice, two occasions, was about her limit with any one boy, unless of course, the boys became few and far between and she was obliged to go back and look up a former boy for servicing. Jeri preferred variety and while all of the many boys she had fucked and sucked wanted to return to her over and over again, she usually did not permit them to do so. There was a disadvantage to bringing a boy to her home for a fucking. She knew that the next boy she picked up - and this would probably be tomorrow night or very soon thereafter - would be driven by her into the country and there in the back seat of her car she would give him the fucking of his young life.

When she was fully honest with herself, she realized that she much preferred fucking a young boy in her car to bringing him home with her. It was more exciting. There was a certain anonymity in it, both for her and the boy. There was nothing quite as exciting as having a sex scene, any kind of a sex scene, with someone young, someone you knew nothing about, not even a name. On this Jeri never had any arguments with herself. It was true. Picking up a young boy, driving him into the country and seducing him, "molesting" him, fucking him, sucking him off, was great, because he would never again see her unless she made certain that he would. This sort of thing gave her a great feeling of power, and Jeri liked this feeling of being the master of a fuck. This really turned her on!

Joe was blowing off in her mouth.

She was very busy now attempting to swallow his output.

There was no time to think about the next boy, or any other boys.

There was only time to swallow.

She thought he was never going to stop squirting the warm thick stuff into her mouth. He did cease twice, but immediately resumed as if a "tap" had been turned off by an unseen hand only to be immediately turned on again. It was a very pleasurable experience for Jeri and one she was to remember for several months. Jeri found it next to impossible to remember all of the boys she had sucked off in this manner. There were just too many of them.

Besides, it wasn't really necessary to remember all of them... forever and forever. There were always new young boys coming along, being out on the street at night, having deep yearnings that even they did not understand correctly. Sexual yearnings that she was able to pacify in her own special manner and style.

It has been estimated that the number of adult women who carry out this sort of

"molest" operation is increasing rapidly in our urban areas, even in the smaller cities. No one seems to know what to do about it. Except, of course, the women who do it...

and the boys who delight in allowing such women to minister to their needs. This may very well be just another sign of the times and an integral part of our rapidly changing society.

Chapter FOUR

Many people who live in urban areas are not aware of the tremendous amount of sexual activity that takes place in rural places, and more especially, on the farms of this country. Per capita, the number of sex incidents that take place in the country have been said to be far greater than in heavily populated cities. Many urban area people seem to have the idea that ruralists are slow and lack the energy to fuck, but such is not the case. The farms of America have the sexiest bunch of swingers imaginable.

Some of the deviations that take place on farms would be unbelievable to most city people. Consider the case of Mrs. Chase, a thirty-four-year-old widow who owned and operated a farm, with the help of two rather elderly hired men. Her farm was adjacent to one owned by the Brown family. Harry and Joyce Brown had two daughters and two sons. The older son was named Dick and he was sixteen. Dick had been making almost daily visits to Mrs. Chase since he was twelve. His parents were aware of his sexual activity with the widow. They didn't mind. Their younger son, Jimmy, was thirteen at the time he first started to take over some of his brother's activities involving the widow. His brother didn't mind, for Mrs. Chase was enough female for several young boys. Everyone seemed to find the situation agreeable. Mrs. Chase was an extraordinary female, with large shapely tits. She was seemingly always in need of the caresses of boys - the younger the better. At the moment, she was standing near the rear door of her farmhouse, shielding her eyes from the sun with her hand, attempting to see if either Dick or Jimmy would be crossing the field between the two farms. Sometimes the boys came across the field, sometimes they walked down the road, but always they came, one or the other, and very often both together.

Although it was late in the afternoon and their work should have been completed for the day, neither boy was in view. Mrs. Chase stood there motionless, her hand continuing to shield her eyes from the burning sun. Finally, she sighed and returned inside the house and busied herself with egg counting. When she had finished this task, she stepped outside just in time to see Dick, the sixteen-year-old, turning off the road and coming toward her.

He stopped. "Hi, Mrs. Chase. I had some extra work to do. Pa didn't feel too good today."

"Oh, sorry to hear that. Anything serious?"

The boy grinned. "He was fucking ma last night and sprained his back." Mrs. Chase smiled. She was accustomed to this kind of frank talk. The farmers in this part of the country all talked in this free and easy manner - at least to one another. "Sorry to hear that. Glad it's not you that has the sore back." She winked at the boy.

Dick, a brown-haired, brown-eyed boy of medium build, grinned again. "Wasn't me.

Ma won't let me fuck her. I tried it once."

Mrs. Chase laughed at his obvious attempt at humor, knowing it was not an entirely untrue statement. Knowing the Brown boys and the way they used their cocks, she wouldn't have placed an attempt at incest beyond the capabilities of either of them, especially Dick. "Why don't you come inside and let me see how you are today, Dick," she said, making her voice lower in pitch for the purpose of getting a rise out of him.

He grinned and stepped up on the rear porch. "You mean you want to play with my cock, don't you?"

She laughed and held open the door. "I'll do better than just play with it. I'll work on it."

"Want to suck it, Mrs. Chase?" His brown eyes were intense now.

She pursed her lips and put her arm about his waist. What a delightful boy he was.

"Would you like me to suck it, Dick?"

"Sure. You know how I like getting sucked off, especially by you."

She nodded and together they entered the house. "Yes, I know how you like it. I ought to, by now." She laughed at her last statement.

He turned his body slightly now that they were inside the house, and playfully buried his face in her full tits. She liked having him do this, for it gave her a strong feeling of being badly needed. Mrs. Chase loved the feeling of being needed by young boys. Young boys, such as the Brown brothers, were definitely the sexiest things in overalls. Overalls or any other type of clothing.

"I like your big tits, Mrs. Chase," he said, his words muffled because his face was buried in her warm flesh. "Sometimes I dream of sucking them till they fall off. I really love to lick those cherry nipples of yours."

"Oh, my goodness, not that, Dick! I'd feel terrible if my tits fell off."

"It's a pretty dumb dream, but it keeps coming back all the time."

She kissed him. His lips were warm and wet, just the way she liked a boy's lips to be. While she kissed him, her hand stole between his legs and felt his hard-on. It was nice to be able to feel a young boy's hard cock. It was even nicer when the young boy inserted his prick into you. Unzipping his fly while they continued kissing each other, she pulled out his cock and began to play with him gently.

He pulled his mouth away from hers. "You really got the hots today, eh, Mrs.

Chase?"

"You know me, Dick. Always got the hots. I'm ready for fucking twenty-four hours a day."

"Do I ever make your cunt sore?"

She grinned and put her free arm about him, squeezing gently. "Yes, lots of times, but I don't really mind. I like it, honestly. After you go home and my cunt feels sore, I just remember how it got that way. Then I get hot all over again. I like that - being hot, passionate."

"I know you do. Are you going to take your clothes off, Mrs. Chase?"

"Sure. Let's go and get on my bed. You remove your clothing, too."

Soon they were on the bed, naked, as she once again played with his stiff cock.

"Would you like to have it sucked or fucked?" she asked softly.

"Makes no difference. We'd better hurry, though. Jimmy's coming over, he told me." Mrs. Chase smiled happily. "Why don't we wait till he gets here and all three of us can have fun together?"

"I'd kind of like you all to myself, first," he said seriously. "I really got hot rocks." "Get on top of me, Dick," she said quietly, spreading her large, powerful-looking thighs. "I'll take your cock before Jimmy arrives."

He climbed on top of her, beginning fucking movements even before putting it into her cunt.

"Wait a minute," she told him and reached between their bodies to grasp his cock. "If you don't, you'll go off on the sheet."

He stopped his frantic movement until she inserted his cock for him. Then he began pumping his prick into her cunt as only a young boy can do. Mrs. Chase, pleased at the terrific hardness of his tool, lay back and enjoyed his pumpings, keeping both of her hands on his bare ass, pressing down on his buttocks when she felt him spurting inside of her. As was usually the case with her, she instantly had an orgasm, and it continued even after he had ceased to move within her steaming cunt. She kept moving about passionately, his cock still buried within her. She was rather disappointed with his performance.

"How come you went off so quickly?" she asked him. "That's not like you, Dick."

"I don't know. I guess I was thinking too much about getting done in a hurry because Jimmy's coming over."

She patted his butt. "Well, it's all right. I had a small one from that fuck."

"I couldn't help going off so soon," he stated again. "Guess maybe I was just too hot this time. I'm sorry."

"Get up," she said. "We'll wait till Jimmy gets here and then... well, we'll see how we want to do things. All right with you?"

"Yes." He moved off her and she looked at his now limp cock, feeling deeper disappointment in his performance of the past few minutes. It was the first time the boy had "failed" her, to the best of her recollection. Mrs. Chase was not an unreasonable woman, but in matters concerning sex she was determined in obtaining a satisfactory orgasm each and every time she fucked. She wanted gratification all the time, not just some of the time. This was not pure selfishness on her part. At least, not to her way of thinking. She was simply being a practical woman. Sex and fucking was meant to be gratifying to both partners. It definitely was not meant to be a frustrating force.

"I'm going to get a drink of water."

She nodded as Dick left the bedroom. When he had gone, she placed her hand over her cunt and allowed one of her fingers to slip in a short distance. She felt a shiver pass through her and she knew she was terribly hot. Hot and upset, though she was determined not to show her feelings. It was never conducive to good fucking to allow the other party to know you were upset over his performance. That sort of thing can kill sex altogether for the people involved. Keep quiet about it and hope... that next time the partner returns to his usual effectiveness. That was the way to do it. Mrs.

Chase was an expert in these matters - these fucking matters.

Dick did not immediately return to the bedroom, so she continued to wait for him, her hand over her cunt, her finger darting in and out pleasurably.

After a few minutes she got off the bed and peered out into the kitchen. His clothing was gone. She thought he had tossed his clothing over a kitchen chair, and now there was nothing to show that he had been there. She turned about and saw only her own clothing in the bedroom.

"Now why would he run off like that?" she asked herself aloud. A moment later she said, "I must have made him mad, or something, but how? I didn't say anything to offend him, did I?" She thought about this for several minutes, slipping on a robe as she did so, and then dismissed it from her mind. Mrs. Chase was not the sort of person who would dwell at length upon such matters. It really wasn't that important to her.

Half an hour later, while having a cup of strong coffee in the kitchen, she looked up from the table - to see Jimmy at the door. Jimmy was only thirteen, and not as large a boy as Dick. His black hair and gray eyes with the lustful look in them constantly, more than made up for his lack of physique. And his cock was by no means a small one. The boy came into the kitchen quickly and smiled at her.

"Hello, Jimmy," Mrs. Chase said, pretending to pick something up from the floor. This was for the purpose of allowing her robe to come open at the front. It was more sexy to a boy when a robe appeared to come open accidentally than to do it deliberately.

Mrs. Chase was well versed on the sexual appetites of young boys.

Jimmy stood in front of her. "Where's Dick?" he asked.

She shook her head. "I don't know. I thought maybe you could tell me."

"He said he'd be here and all three of us... "

Mrs. Chase smiled. "Oh, he actually said that, did he? The rascal!"

The boy screwed up his young face. "Is it all right if I do it to you right away, Mrs.

Chase?"

She beamed at him. "Why, Jimmy, I never knew you to be so outspoken about it before. Usually, you don't say much." "I want to go fishing before it gets too dark."

"I see," she said, smiling. "You want to fuck first and then go fishing."

He half giggled. "Sort of, like." "Come here," she said.

He came close to her and she reached out and felt between his legs. "Why, you're not even hard, Jimmy."

"Yes, I know," the boy said softly. "Couldn't you suck it up, please?" His eyes, she was well aware, were staring hard at her exposed tits.

"Take it out, Jimmy. Maybe I can lip it into shape so we can use it."

The lust that sprang into his eyes was immediately visible. It thrilled her to see it there. Apparently, it thrilled him to have it there, for he moaned softly and removing his cock, let it hang limply.

"Jimmy, you usually get hard quickly. Why not today?" Mrs. Chase was quite curious about this.

"Aw, Dick and I slept together last night and we jacked each other off all night long." She didn't like to hear this sort of thing. Pressing her lips together, she fixed him with a severe stare. "You boys mustn't do that. I've told you both you must save your juices for me. Either that or I won't favor either one of you anymore."

Jimmy hung his head a little. "Don't tell Dick I told you. He made me promise not to say anything, but it slipped out."

Mrs. Chase knew now why Dick's performance on the bed had not been up to his usual hot standards. "I won't say a word." She pursed her lips. "Come and get on the bed with me, dear."

They were on the bed now and Jimmy had removed his clothing. His body was so much smaller than Dick's that she liked to look at it. It made her feel positively a cradle robber to play with such a young boy, and yet this was her entire fascination with such an act. A grown woman playing with a young boy's cock was frowned upon by many people. Why this should be so, a person like Mrs. Chase could never understand. She didn't do the young boys any harm. In fact, she felt she did them considerable good. What worried her, however, was the fact that the boys had jacked each off all night long. Mrs. Chase felt this was a terrible thing for young boys to do. It would have been far better that they both should have put their cocks into her juicy cunt. A cunt was the only correct place for a cock.

"Get on top of me, Jimmy," she told the younger boy. "Just like you always do, dear." she often used the term of endearment with him, but seldom did so with his older brother. Dick did not like being called "dear."

The boy climbed aboard rapidly and she felt his cock. It was rock-hard now. She breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe this meant he would do a satisfactory job on her, or at least a better one than his brother had done. "You put it in," he told her.

She had no need for being told. Already she was stroking his slender cock and finally, after a few moments of fondling it, she made the insertion. He thrust hard at her and, with satisfaction, she felt the stiff piece shoot into her, rubbing the side of her cunt gratifyingly.

"Fuck me, boy," she said softly, stroking his soft hair. "Fuck your lady good now." "Keep talking like that," he grunted. "Makes me real hot."

"All right, dear. Fuck my cunt. Make me hot, too. I like your young cock. I'd rather fuck you than do anything else."

He pumped hard in her, his stiff prick rubbing her in all the right places "That's the way to fuck me, dear. Keep that hard thing stabbing in and out of my cunt. My, you have a nice one. Give it all to me, please. I must have every inch of it. Oh... that's good," she added when he went deep into her throbbing pussy. "Now then, fuck me, boy, fuck my twat, and do it quickly."

"Oh, boy," he grunted. "I didn't think I was gonna be this hot, not after all that jacking off stuff last night with Dick."

Mrs. Chase grated her teeth unintentionally. "Mustn't play with your brother like that anymore, Jimmy dear. Remember, your prick belongs to me. Isn't that true?" "Yes," he grunted.

"Save your cock for me. After all, who else lets you crawl on top the way I do?" "Nobody does," he answered thickly.

"I'm your girl, sort of. You remember that, Jimmy, and don't let Dick fool you into jacking him off anymore. All right?" She pinched his butt as she asked the question.

"All right," he grunted, moving in her more quickly now.

"That's good," she told him. "Now fuck your girl very good, dear. Spray her insides with your goo when you're ready to explode."

"I like hearing you talk that way," he told her hoarsely, not letting up for one second on his furious pumping into her cunt.

She pinched his butt again. "That's a good boy, keep pumping the cock into me, dear. I love to get your cock pumped into me." Saying this, she stiffened and drew up one leg as she felt the wild sensation of her orgasm. "Oh... " she moaned. "Faster,

Jimmy... that's, a good boy. I love what you're doing to me!"

He pumped her furiously and she closed her eyes, the better to enjoy his efforts. She heard him cry out a few moments later but she did not open her eyes. She felt the bed sagging somewhat and it seemed that he was suddenly heavier, but still she did not open her eyes. It was not until she reached to pinch his butt again that she discovered he had his pants on.

His pants on?

She opened her eyes to see Dick on top of his brother, cornholing him evidently even as Jimmy was fucking her. A feeling of extreme pleasure spread through Mrs.

Chase's body, and she knew this was what she had been waiting for all along. She dearly loved having both boys in bed with her, even if one of them was withholding his cock from her body. At least he was there with her and Jimmy, and this was a very hot thing to experience.

"Give it to him, Dick," she breathed, patting the older boy on the ass. Immediately she thought of something and began pulling down the older boy's pants as best she could without interrupting what he was doing to Jimmy. She noticed that Jimmy did not seem to mind what Dick was doing to him and for a moment she had a suspicion that this might have been what they had done the previous night, rather than merely jacking off as Jimmy had explained. Mrs. Chase was not at all certain that she liked this - she didn't want her boy all worn out by the time he came to her for favors. Both boys had always been very virile for their ages, very potent and gratifying. If they got into the habit of satisfying each other at home, they would end up by having less need for her.

However, there was no point in thinking about that now. She could take the matter up with them later. She would impress on each of them that she was the only one they could stick their cocks into. They were not to use each other's assholes for that purpose.

Much to her delight, Dick pulled his cock out of his brother and with something akin to a wild roar of a young animal, moved up on the bed and sank his prick into her mouth. She tasted his piece, noting that it was clean.

"Now then," she cried thickly, for her mouth was well filled with cock. "The two of you

- fuck me, together. Give me the best you've got to offer."

Even as she spoke, she had her second orgasm and certainly the best one she had had this day. It lasted a long time and was thoroughly gratifying. It lasted so long, in fact, that both boys had emptied their cocks into her body and had both stopped pumping before she knew a complete and of sensation.

"Ah... wonderful," Mrs. Chase cried softly. "We must do this more often, boys." Suffice it to add here that they did follow up and do it often. Neither boy was ever to marry and leave the farm of their parents. Why would a young man want to marry another girl when he already had the best piece of ass in the country without the bother of having to support the lady in question? This was what the Brown brothers had and they knew a good thing when they found it.

Chapter FIVE

Very often a woman who is in need of a male, but who has been divorced for a few years, is hesitant about committing herself to another. She has had such a miserable time of it during her first marriage that she either consciously or subconsciously keeps away from adult men. Because she wants a cock badly, she begins to look about for a very young one, one that could not possibly want to become involved in marriage. Such a woman was Mrs. Doris Baker. She had been divorced three years and during that time had not engaged in fucking. Quite understandably, she was growing frantic. She tried all methods to get acquainted with young boys, but none of them appeared to be even vaguely interested in her. She supposed it was because of her age - she was thirty-two and she knew this made her almost ancient to a young boy. It was not until Mrs. Winkleman moved in next door to Doris along with her young son that Doris began to have ideas about the boy.

Doris watched as the family brought in their belongings. It seemed to require all day for the dark-haired woman and her equally dark-haired boy to direct the movers with the furniture and boxes.

The very next morning, a plan began to take shape in the back of her mind. Doris left her house through the rear door and walked over to the new neighbor's house. She knocked on the door and Mrs. Winkleman came and opened it.

"Hello," Doris said cheerfully, smiling at the woman. "So you're my new neighbor." She then told the woman her name and the woman smiled warmly.

She also invited Doris in for coffee.

While they were chatting agreeably, almost as if they were old friends, the boy came into the kitchen. Doris caught her breath. She judged him to be about twelve, possibly thirteen. He wore only swimming trunks and his skin was nicely tanned. To Doris he was immediately the most masculine-looking, more desirable-looking male she had seen. His mother introduced them and the boy said something or other about going swimming and then was gone from the room.

Doris waited for several long seconds before she trusted her own voice. "You have a very nice-looking son, Mrs. Winkleman."

"Thank you," the other woman replied. "I don't know what I'd do without him. You see, his father - my husband - died two years ago... and well, I won't bore you with details."

"I understand," Doris said quickly. "Richard... was that his name? - Richard is sort of the man in your family, I take it."

Mrs. Winkleman smiled. "Definitely. He's quite a man, too, in some ways. You see, I work every day, even now during the summer, though I'm a schoolteacher, and he's left to his own resources most of the day. By the way, if it isn't imposing on a new neighbor too much, I'd like to ask you to... well, keep an eye on him during the day.

That is, if you are home during the day. I... "

Doris raised her hand, her pulse already beating much faster than it should be. "That's quite all right, Mrs. Winkleman. What are neighbors for? I'll be happy to keep an eye on him. As a matter of fact, please tell him he is welcome in my house any time he feels like dropping in. I live alone and would be happy to have him stop in as often as he likes."

She paused and looked at the slightly older woman. "I never had any children. I like kids." Doris thought this last bit should convince the other woman of her desirability as a good neighbor.

Apparently it did. Mrs. Winkleman was all smiles. "That's very kind of you. I want you to know I appreciate your consideration, your kindness. Now, if there are any little jobs Richard can do for you, please don't hesitate to ask him. I promise you he'll do them and do them well."

There definitely is a little job I want him to do for me, Doris thought. Aloud she merely said, "I'm sure Richard and I shall get along famously. He seems like such a nice boy."

The two women talked awhile longer and then Doris excused herself and went home, confident that from this point on she was going to have a young male to train. She would school him carefully and well, she promised herself, and she would do it in such a way that he would never dare tell his mother about the things they would be doing together.

During the next month, Doris had the boy in her house many times, getting better acquainted with him, serving him lunches, soda, candy. She watched the boy carefully, talked to him cautiously until she thought she knew enough about him, his needs and desires. Soon, the kid was telling Doris everything and some of it in a most confidential and intimate manner.

It was not until another month had gone by that Doris, really in need of a hot cock, decided she could stand sexual inactivity no longer. The 'boy was sitting in her kitchen one day, eating his lunch, when she deliberately went to her bedroom, left the door standing ajar and undressed. Her thoughts racing almost wildly, she turned the water on in the shower, made certain there were no towels in the bathroom, and stepped naked under the falling water. She made a great deal of noise purposely and when she thought the time was ripe, she called to Richard.

He came to the door of her bedroom. She could not see him as yet. "What did you say, Mrs. Baker?" he asked, sounding as if he had food in his mouth.

"I'm taking a shower, but I forgot to bring a towel in the bathroom. It's there on my dresser. Will you please get it and bring it to me, Richard?" "Oh... " he said. "Oh... sure... on the dresser, did you say?"

"Yes." For the life of her she could not have uttered more than that one word at that particular moment, she was so excited. She waited for him to get the towel and to bring it to her, but it seemed to be requiring a long period of time for him to accomplish this simple task. It was not until she turned herself about that she saw him standing in the second doorway leading to her bedroom, his mouth open and hanging slack, the towel clutched in his hands, his eyes bulging and staring at her nudity.

Doris caught her breath at the look of extreme lust on his face. She knew it was lust. It could be nothing else. Glancing down at the front of his pants quickly, she noted with excitement that there was a definite protrusion there. The kid had a hard-on, possibly one of his very first.

She took a deep breath. "Come here, Richard," she said. "Don't be afraid. I won't hurt you."

The boy came slowly toward her, his dazed glaze seemingly fixed on her tits, which she knew only too well, were extremely shapely and provocative looking. He said nothing at all but simply stood a yard or so away from her and let his eyes travel up and down her body. She knew he was staring at her cunt region, so she deliberately parted her legs in a sexy manner, allowing one knee to slightly bend.

The boy simply moaned.

"Is something wrong, Richard?" she asked, hoping he would not break and run.

He did not reply. He stiffly offered the towel to her but she could not reach it. "Come closer to me, Richard. I won't bite." She deliberately bent over so her tits would bounce about invitingly.

He took a step closer, then stopped and stood still as if cemented to the spot. His arm dropped and the towel struck the floor, but he didn't seem to notice this.

"You're... awful... pretty... Mrs. Baker," he stammered softly.

Taking her courage in hand, she stepped out from under the shower, turned the water of! quickly and put her arm over his shoulder, her shapely tits now very close to his pinkish face. "Thank you, Richard. Would you do me a favor and dry my back and tummy? I'm not a very good dryer."

"What did you say?" he mumbled, frozen to the floor.

"Why, Richard," she said, glancing down at him. "You're shaking. Is something wrong, my dear?"

"No - nothing's - wrong."

She put her arm about him again. "You mustn't be afraid of me, Richard. I'm your very good friend." "I know," he mumbled.

She took the towel from his grasp and then handed it back to him. "Here, dear. Dry my back and tummy for me. Won't you, please?" She turned and bent over so that her buttocks were pointed straight at the protrusion at the front of his trousers. He moaned strangely and took the towel and rubbed her back momentarily, but stopped and moaned again. "Oh, Mrs. Baker," he whispered. "Oh... my... gosh... " "Will you dry my... tits, too, Richard? They are very wet, you see." She waited with held breath while he ran the towel around in front of her body and gingerly touched her tits with it. "Hold my tit with one hand, Richard, and dry it with the other," she told him, her heart hammering wildly.

He very gingerly touched her left tit with his fingers as if he were going to hold it... but he withdrew his fingers quickly and moaned again.

She knew she had better push him over "the edge" quickly, or he might break and run. Seizing his hand she pressed it down hard on her tits while at the same time she pressed her butt up against the rigid cock in his pants.

He cried out and seized her hips with his hands and began a quick, furtive fucking movement against her butt.

Doris thought she was going to faint from the sheer excitement of it. However, he stopped his movement, and moved away from her quickly.

"Don't you tell my mother I did that," he cried roughly. "She'd half kill me if she knew I even thought about such... stuff."

Doris smiled seductively at the pink-faced boy. "Don't worry, Richard. Even if you do to me what I know you want to do, I'll never tell. Your mother will never know that you want to... fuck me so very much."

His face became agonized as he moaned again, very loudly. "I think I'm going crazy," he cried.

"No, you aren't, Richard," she said quickly. "You're acting just the way you're supposed to."

"I'm going crazy, I just know it," he said. "I never felt so crazy before in my whole life."

She took a step toward him and when he did not move away, she stepped still closer to him. "Give me your hand, Richard," she told him firmly. "Come now. Give it to me, right now."

He held out his hand fearfully and she saw how it was trembling. "I'm losing my mind," he mumbled. "I must be."

She took his hand in hers and moved even closer and placed his hand over her tits. Then she put her arms about him quickly and kissed his mouth, plunging her tongue into his in a wild abandoned manner. If this didn't do it, she had a few more tricks. The boy resisted her, tried to turn his face away, but she grasped his chin and held it as she tongued his lips. He was groaning like someone going berserk now and she knew it wouldn't be long. Reaching down between their bodies she grasped his erection through the cloth of his trousers and caressed it, rubbing it gently. He groaned and shot his loins forward like a maddened male dog. She pushed her belly against his and began to make strong circular motions with it.

She received an agreeable surprise then for she discovered he had managed to knock her hand away and had unzipped his fly. He had his hard cock in his hand now and was holding it as he attempted a fucking movement at her dripping crotch. Doris sucked in air and dropped to the floor of the bathroom, pulling the boy down on top of her. He was still moaning and groaning and the more he did it, the more agitated she became. Now it was her turn to brush his hand away from his cock. Seizing his hard prick, she jacked it once or twice and aimed it at her juicy cunt hole. The boy almost screamed as he began a disorganized, wild and hectic attempt at fucking.

He missed her cunt entirely.

His male cream shot out of his cock and struck her bare tummy, shot upward and struck at her titties, her face, even her hair. Frantically, she sought to get it into her, but could not. With an agonizing groan she threw herself about until she could fasten her lips about the wildly spouting cock. The boy continued to groan and moan as his come entered her mouth and passed down her throat, coating her insides. When she felt the stream letting up in intensity, she quickly began a furious sucking movement with her lips.

Instantly the boy began to blow hard again.

Doris sucked harder than ever.

The boy continued to groan and moan. It was as if this was the only way he could express himself.

There was another way he was expressing himself, however, and far better, according to Doris. The squirting of his cock juice. She thought he would never cease spouting milk down her throat. God, she wanted him to keep going forever! She needed it so much! She wanted him to blow all he had and more into her. It was wonderful having this young boy's cock in her mouth. This was a terrific first step. Next time she would teach him to fuck her, as well. And next time might very well be a few minutes from now. Young boys were notorious for their ability to go off over and over again.

Finally, he stopped flowing in her mouth, but she kept on sucking his hard cock in the hopes that he would start it all over again. He pushed her head away from him and sat up on the floor. She moved away from him slightly, to get his reaction at just having had his cock sucked.

He said nothing, did not even look at her.

When her hard breathing permitted, she spoke to him. "Did you like it, Richard?" He nodded vigorously.

"Don't worry. I won't tell your mother on you. Believe me, I won't."

"She'll kill me if she finds out."

"She won't find out. You have my word." Doris thought to herself that she agreed with him, but she went on cleverly. "If your mother ever found out what you just did to me... she might have to send you away... to a place for boys, you know... but don't worry, you are my friend now. I'll never tell on you... as long as you are my friend. Are you my friend, Richard? Are you my friend forever and ever?" This ought to get him nicely trapped, she felt.

"Yes," he said quickly. "I'll do it to you... whenever you make me... do it to you... if you don't tell on me."

Doris decided not to challenge the statement. It wasn't the right time to be attempting that sort of thing. Besides, it wasn't necessary now. She had him hooked. She could, if necessary, practically force him to have sexual relations with her from now on because of his fear of his mother.

"We'll have a fine time, you and I, Richard," she told him quietly, running her hands up and down his leg under his pantleg. "Er - why don't you take off your clothes and... take a shower... you need one now, you know."

"I better go home and do that."

"No," she said sharply. "Do it here. Right here and now."

He surprised her by grinning impishly at her. "You just want to see a boy all naked and everything, don't you?"

She sucked in air. "Yes, I do, Richard. But after what we have just done to each other it doesn't really matter anymore if I see you naked, or if you see me naked again. After all," she breathed deeply and sought to expand her titty measurements as she did so, "... after all, you are looking at my nakedness, aren't you?"

Again he surprised her by unbuckling his belt and slipping off his pants. Off came his shorts, his socks and shoes. Finally his shirt. Finally he was naked. She sucked in air again as she saw all of his young flesh, scarcely able to believe a body could be so young and exciting as his was at that very moment.

"How do I look, Mrs. Baker?" he asked shyly.

"You have a nice body, Richard. Aren't you glad now that you decided to take off your clothing?"

His cock was half hard, but as he stood there looking at her nudity as she still sat on the floor, his prick became harder and longer. "Hey," he said, pinking up a bit. "Look at that thing." He laughed strangely.

She bit her lips but stared at his hard-on longingly. Should she try to obtain a fuck from him right now or should she wait a little while? It was a difficult decision. "Richard," she murmured softly, "come here and rub your cock across my titties.

Please?"

He came close to her and standing over her, crouched the necessary degree and vigorously rubbed his cock back and forth across her tits. Doris had an orgasm. Just like that! She had sucked him off without any sign of one, but his touching her tits with his cock caused her to spasm violently and beautifully.

"Oh... you wonderful boy, you," she murmured.

"Boy, you sure make me feel crazy," he mumbled.

"But you like to feel crazy in this way, don't you, Richard?"

"Wow! I sure do, Mrs. Baker. Want me to stick it in your mouth again?"

She looked up into his eyes. "I'd prefer you getting on top of me and fucking me, the way a grown-up man would do."

He flushed. "I don't know how," he confessed.

"I'll teach you." Doris was trembling with excitement.

"You'll teach me to... do it to you?" Evidently, he found it difficult to say the four-letter word to a grown woman.

"I'll teach you how to fuck a woman," she said bluntly, knowing this type of talk should set him up in fine style.

"Wow," he cried. "I sure like to hear you say stuff like that."

"Stuff like what, Richard?" she asked, wanting to induce him to speak more bluntly to her.

"Stuff like what you just said."

"All right. Tell me what I just said."

He flushed again. "I - I can't... talk that way to a lady."

"You mean you can say the words to another boy but not to me?" "I - I guess so."

"You mean words like 'fuck'?"

Again he flushed. "Yeah, that's what I mean."

She knew she had him on the verge. "Have you ever thought about what it would be like to fuck a girl, Richard?"

He hung his head, averting her eyes.

"Tell me. Have you, Richard?" she persisted.

"Yeah," he mumbled, the word coming very softly.

"Now that you are... looking at... my naked body... wouldn't you like to fuck me, Richard?" He turned away.

"Richard," she said. "Turn around and face me." He turned around, reluctantly, it appeared. "Wouldn't you like to fuck me, Richard?" He nodded.

She drew in her breath, happy with his answering nod. "Then, why don't you get on top of me, Richard?"

"I - I guess I'm scared.'

She bit her lips and reached out at the same time to clasp his leg. He hopped closer to her using the other leg, and then she rubbed her face against his thighs. "Why don't you sit down on the floor with me, Richard. I don't like you standing up." He had his cock in one hand and was jacking it slowly. "This feels kind of good," he mumbled, as if to himself.

"Let me do that, dear. A boy should never play with himself." She knew this was pretty much nonsense, but felt it was a good thing to say to him. "If a boy plays with himself too much, he is never able to... make love to a woman." She wasn't certain of the truth of this statement, but it seemed to sound good.

"I don't play with myself," he grumbled, frowning at her strangely. "That's something I never have done and you shouldn't accuse me of it."

Doris drew back and took a deep breath. "Why, Richard, you shouldn't talk that way.

I didn't accuse you of anything, not really."

He seemed not to hear her. "Boy, I sure liked the way it felt when you put your lips around it and sucked. That coming stuff is really fun."

She repeated her earlier request. "Why don't you get on top of me, Richard? Would you like to fuck me?" He nodded.

She sighed almost impatiently. "Then get on top of me, boy."

"Why don't we get in the bedroom, or something?" he asked.

"You mean the bed? All right." Doris got to her feet hurriedly and taking him by the hand led the naked boy to her bed. She jacked his cock a few times, taking special note of the extreme rigidity of it now. Then she lay down on the bed without relinquishing her hold on his cock. He crawled on top of her but didn't get on her immediately. Holding himself up by leaning on his hands, he looked down at her tits, then inquiringly into her eyes. She understood what he meant by this. "You may suck my tits, Richard," she told him.

He moaned and buried his face between the twin globes, his tongue licking her flesh, his teeth lightly biting her. Doris had a small orgasm from this and when it happened, she held his head with her hands, a look of wild passion on her strained, pretty face.

"My goodness, Richard, but you do make me hot, dear."

He fastened his lips over a nipple and sucked on it like a baby might. Even this made her spasm and Doris became more and more agitated, almost to the point where she was ready to force him to get on top of her and take her. She would have tried it if she had had the faintest notion it would work, for she wanted his stiff cock thrust into her cunt so badly, she was nearly beside herself.

He went from one tit to the other, really working his mouth and tongue over her hot flesh. For all the world, he was like a starved infant seeking nourishment. Doris could understand this easily enough. She had similar feelings about needing the juice from his cock.

"Get on top of me now, dear," she heard herself say again.

He released her tit from his mouth and drew back momentarily. For a few seconds she thought he was going to leave but he agreeably surprised her by throwing himself on top of her and pumping his cock wildly at her body, much in the manner that all young boys are apt to do until they are experienced at sex. His cock struck her in all sorts of places and she almost became frantic before managing to grasp the thing and pulling him down firmly on top of her starved body, made the insertion. Immediately his cock sank into her as far as it would go, but then much to her dismay, when he pulled back to stroke, he yanked it all the way out of her. Again she replaced his tool in the proper position. Once again his prick shot into her wildly but came out the moment he pulled back, even though she had wrapped her arms about his back and was holding him in place with all her strength.

"Damn," Doris said softly.

"Stick it in, stick it in," the boy cried in a near frenzy. "Please... stick it in your cunt!" Doris grasped his cock firmly and steered it into her slit as the boy pumped furiously. She had mixed feelings about his actions. On the one hand it was maddening to have him put it in and then immediately yank it out accidentally, but on the other hand, it was terribly exciting to realize he was doing this because of his almost animal approach to the situation. Doris found his high degree of excitement and agitation to be extremely contagious and little by little she was becoming more frenzied herself. This animal type of plunging at her with a hard cock, only to have it slip out, was almost the very essence of fucking with a young boy. It was difficult to lose one's temper or self-control when contact was broken because of uncontrollable passion. It was because a young boy was so hellishly hot that he did these very things. Doris loved this aspect of it, of course, but she also had mixed feelings. "Try not to yank it out of my cunt this time, Richard," she said as soothingly as she could when she inserted his cock once again.

"All right. Damn thing," he muttered darkly. "What's the matter with it? Why won't it stay in you?"

"You are pulling back too far." She patted his butt and then pressed down fiercely on it with both her hands. "I'll try to hold your cock in me this time, but you must try very hard not to become too excited, dear."

"I want to fuck you," he sobbed. "It's driving me nuts." "Just fuck me easy, boy," she told him. "Don't try so hard." He thrust his cock deeply into her and then he stopped.

"That's good... so far," she told him. "Now pull it out just partway." He moved it about an inch.

"No, that's not enough. You must move it back a little more, dear. You have to have room enough to stroke me."

Instead of pulling it back, he thrust it back in. The "stroke" was so short it was almost no stroke at all, but Doris was so unbelievably hot she received a startling sensation from it.

"Oh, my God," she moaned. "When you do it right I'm going to fly right through the ceiling."

"Huh?" he said stupidly.

"Never mind. Get on with your movements, dear. Remember, push it all the way into me, but don't pull it all the way out." Good grief, why did he have to be so incredibly innocent? Still, that was one of the things she liked. Again, her feelings were mixed. Let him do it any way he can, she told herself. It'll be better that way in the long run. He had pulled his cock out of her again, so once more she seized it and steered it into her cunt while he thrust hard and entered her deeply, wonderfully. Doris nearly had an orgasm, probably from the sheer exasperation of it all, for exasperation of a certain kind, if not too much, can sometimes serve to enhance the sexual act. She knew this to be true. It had happened to her more than once.

"I like this," he grunted as he moved in her a little but not nearly enough. "Hope it doesn't come out again."

Doris lifted her legs, as she should have done in the first place, and brought them together behind his, locking her ankles and feet securely while at the same time holding his buttocks down with her hands. "There," she muttered, "that ought to keep his cock in me."

"Huh?" he asked, thinking she was speaking to him.

"Get on with it, dear," she said swiftly. "Fuck me - fuck me good now. Make me come good and you come good, too, dear. I want lots of come from that hot pecker of yours. Lots and lots of come."

He began to move in her properly, more than likely from sheer chance than any studied thinking on his part. The kid seemed to be coming apart at the seams - but to Doris this was also maddeningly wonderful. He was alternately grunting and moaning and jerking his body and then lay still for a moment. What he was doing made little sense most of the time, but this, too, she told herself, was fascinating and exciting. If he was experienced, he would be just another male on top of her. It was his lack of experience that drove her to distraction, though she was quick to admit the distraction had a singular beauty of its own.

"I got my hot pecker up a girl's cunt," the boy grunted, as he labored over her. "That's right, dear. You've got your hard, red-hot pecker up a girl's cunt. Now... what do you feel like doing? Do you feel like squirting off your stuff in my cunt, dear?

Come now, tell me. Do you?"

"Sure do," he grunted and moved in her better than he had at any time up to this point.

"Oh... God," she murmured, knowing full well that any good sustained movement on his part would send her off into the blissful world of heavenly orgasm. "Oh... God," she repeated. "Now I think I'm the one who's going crazy."

He rammed his cock into her and pulled it out only halfway this time and immediately she increased the pressure on his legs with her Own, holding him in a viselike grip that threatened to break a bone or two. She had to have her big orgasm and soon or she knew she would start yelling her head off, the way she had done once before when gratification was maddeningly slow in coming.

"Fuck you, fuck you... I'm gonna fuck you," the boy muttered thickly, and now she began to almost believe he might, for his stroking was far more satisfactory than it had been before.

"Yes, Richard," she murmured encouragingly. "You are going to fuck me, dear. In fact, you are fucking me, dear. You have your pecker up my hot cunt and I love the feel of it. Why don't you fuck me just a little bit harder, dear? I like it better when I'm fucked hard."

"Talk dirty stuff to me," he begged. "I like to hear you say stuff like that." Doris knew that some adult men liked this sort of thing, but she found it odd that such a young boy would be asking for incentive. However, she was glad to oblige him. She was so much in need that she would have done anything humanly possible to get him to fuck her well.

"Fuck my dirty old cunt, dear," she said, scarcely knowing what to say to him. "Just fuck it like you want to. Blow off your nuts up my dirty old cunt, dear. I want you to blow off your nuts in my dirty old cunt."

"You ain't got no dirty old cunt. You got a nice clean cunt."

Doris felt her scalp tightening. Good grief, had she offended this silly kid? She hoped not. "No, of course I haven't, dear, but I thought you wanted me to speak... that way to you."

He paid no attention to her remark, but began to groan and moan like a person in extreme pain. She lessened her leg pressure, thinking she might be hurting him and thus spoiling her own pleasure, but she immediately discovered this to be a terrible mistake.

His cock was out of her cunt again and he was pumping it furiously at her belly, her legs, her hips, anywhere it happened to touch her.

"Jesus," Doris said. "What have I done to deserve this treatment?"

The boy got his body turned about somehow and now his hard cock was striking her tits, slapping at them, poking at them, pounding away at them. Doris sighed and lay very still, no longer interested in trying to hold his cock in her cunt. Let him fuck off on her outer body, if he wanted to. She was tired of trying to keep that pesky cock inside of her. She thought about sucking the thing, but he was thrashing about so wildly now that she gave up on this idea, immediately. "Oh... oh... oh... " the boy cried, spittle running down his chin.

"Go off on my titties, Richard," Doris cried desperately. "At least give me that thrill."

He did so almost immediately. He not only went off on her titties, but in her face. His hot come struck her eyes, her hair, her cheeks. It ran down to her neck, dripping down over her titties to mingle with the other come he had already deposited there. She was amazed at the amount of squirting the boy had. He seemed possessed of an enormous amount of cock juice and all of it was streaming out of his prick, flying off in every direction, up in the air, off the side of the bed, on her belly, once again on her face, and when it struck her there for the second time, Doris could be still no longer. With a loud cry, just as she had done in the bathroom, she threw herself on him, and parting her lips frantically, took in his raging cock and swallowed his torrent of spunk as quickly as he could release the exciting fluid.

Doris Baker continued to suck Richard's cock from time to time as the months passed by, but at no time could she get him to fuck her in the regular manner. That is, she could not teach him to stroke properly. He persisted in drawing out too far most of the time with the ensuing chaotic result. There were times when she thought she was going to really lose her mind over the actions of this youngster, but then he would perform in such a wild and passionate manner toward her, she would settle down and accept what she could obtain from him. A half a loaf is better than none at all - this became her philosophy - and while it was admittedly a depressing sort of thing, she managed to live with it.

After all, what she wanted was a young boy to indulge in sex with her, and if she couldn't train him to perform in the usual manner, she could at least learn to be more and more proficient in the taking of him in the oral way.

Doris Baker became an expert fellatrice of young boys and was always searching for youthful cock to pacify her strong desires.

Chapter SIX

Sammy Darin was a lonely, red-headed kid who had lived with his maiden aunt since the death of his parents in a car accident when he was nine years old. He was now thirteen, and it seemed that the older he got, the more lonely he became. His aunt, whose name was Martha McTilden, was not quite the right type of person to raise a young boy, for she was narrow minded, severe, sometimes cruel, and almost always stingy. Besides these rather monstrous qualities, she was undoubtedly a person incapable of giving or receiving love. All of this added up to a dreary existence for young Sammy, who was by nature not quite the loner that circumstances made him be. People paid little attention to Sammy because scarcely anyone liked his aunt, and this dislike of her took its toll on Sammy's social life.

It was not until a pretty lady called to him from her front porch one day that Sammy had any real meaning to his life at all.

He stopped dead in his tracks and looked at the black-haired lady who had spoken to him. "Pardon me, did you call me?" he asked.

"Yes, young man. Would you come here a moment, please?"

Sammy walked hesitantly to the porch and stopped. "Yes, ma'am," he said, looking up at her and thinking he had never before seen such a pretty lady. "Would you like to make some money, young man?" Her eyes bore into his strangely.

Sammy smiled. "Yes, ma'am. What do you want me to do?"

"I'd like you to carry a box upstairs. I live alone and there's no one about to help me. The box is just a bit too heavy for a woman to carry alone."

"Okay," Sammy said quickly. "But you don't have to pay me much for doing that sort of thing. A quarter will be enough."

The woman seemed genuinely surprised. "Well, my goodness," she said, smiling down at him beautifully. "You seem to be a most unusual young man."

"I'm not a young man," Sammy replied honestly. "I'm just a thirteen-year-old kid." This appeared to delight the woman even more. "My goodness, you are unusual. Will you please come inside the house?"

"Sure," Sammy replied, and stepped onto the porch and walked past her into the house. The moment he passed close to her, he caught the scent of her perfume and it made his senses reel. There was something wildly exciting about smelling her perfume that he did not understand.

She placed her hand gently on his shoulder and the touch of it sent strange feelings shooting up and down his spine. "The box is over there," she told him softly, pointing to a rather small box near the foot of the steps. "Just take it up the stairs. I'll follow you and show you where I want it placed."

Sammy picked up the box - it was really quite light and he thought she could easily have carried it herself. He went up the stairs with it, the woman following closely on his heels. There was a hallway at the top of the stairs and she told him to turn in the first doorway.

"Just put the box down anywhere," she said carelessly, oddly.

Sammy did so, his back turned to her. He was about to straighten up when he felt the strangest thing happening to him. Something was lightly touching his ass, fingers were caressing his balls through the cloth of his trousers and when he did straighten up, the woman put her arms about him, turning him about and kissing his mouth wetly. Sammy wasn't sure how he should feel - he just knew how he did feel - he felt wonderful. Wonderful, and very hard between the legs.

When the woman kissed his mouth again and slipped her hand between their bodies and felt of him, Sammy became aware of a sudden wetness in his pants.

"Oh, my boy," the woman moaned hoarsely. "Now you know what I want to pay you for."

"What did you say, ma'am?" he asked, stalling for time to think. He was quite confused by her actions and the state of his underpants.

"Have you ever had a girl in bed, kid?" she asked bluntly, rubbing his arms with one hand, feeling at his crotch with the other.

"Huh" he asked, not knowing what else to say, his face growing warm.

"I asked you if you ever had a girl down on her back, kid."

He shook his head. "No, ma'am. I'm not old enough for... girls."

She grasped his chin with her free hand, even as she fondled his cock through his pants, and holding it firmly, she kissed his mouth wetly again. "How do you like that,

kid? Does it make you hot to have a woman kiss you that way?" "Makes me feel funny," he admitted, his pulse racing wildly.

"You want to take out your dingus and let me see it, kid?"

Sammy stared at the woman. She had seemed like such a "nice," pretty woman when he had first glimpsed her on the porch. She was still pretty, but she was acting kind of crazy, or something. He almost wished she would... let go of his cock... it was making him feel crazy. Crazy - but wonderful.

"You want to take it out, kid?" she asked again, "and let Mrs. Gray see it?" "Take what out?" Sammy knew what she meant, but he was still stalling for time so he could think more clearly. What a strange woman she was.

"Your dingus, kid. Your fuck-stick. Let me see it."

Sammy felt his face reddening more. "My - what?" he asked, wanting to hear her speak the words again.

"I asked you if you wanted to take your fuckstick out of your pants, kid." She was holding him fiercely, one hand pinching the flesh of his arm, the other still hanging onto his rigidity, and firmly massaging it. "Why do you want me to... take it out, ma'am?"

"Why not? Don't you want to show off what you got, kid?"

How could a woman change so much, so quickly? he thought to himself. She hadn't seemed this way on the porch. "I guess not, I better go... home now, ma'am," he stammered. "You don't owe me anything... for carrying the box upstairs. Just forget it."

"Oh, yes I do, kid. I owe you a hot piece of ass for it. So you take your thing out and we'll get on the bed and have a fuck session."

She's crazy, Sammy thought. This woman is nutty - crazy. "I never heard anyone talk... like you do, ma'am," he mumbled.

"You think I'm crazy, don't you, kid, just because I want you to take your dingus out and let me see it, let me play with it? Well, I'm not crazy. Not at all. I'm just a very hot woman who needs to have a young prick stuck up her cunt."

Sammy swallowed hard. He seemed unable to say anything back to her after that blunt language. After all, how do you talk to a woman who practically drags you in off the street, grabs your cock and asks you to take it out so she can play with it? "I guess I better go home now," he mumbled again, trying to pull away from her, but not trying as hard as he could have. The truth was, he wanted to show her his "dingus" but was too embarrassed to do so. It would take more pleading from her to induce him to take such a radical step. He had never shown his cock to a girl, let alone an old woman. "Shit!" he muttered. "Holy shit!" "What's the matter, kid? You going off in your pants?"

"Something's happening," he cried. Something was happening. His pants were suddenly even more moist than before.

"Let me unzip you, kid. Okay?"

"Okay," he heard himself answer. "Holy shit!" he cried again. "I know how to take care of a leaking cock, believe me, kid." "Oh, hell," he exclaimed, hardly knowing what he was saying.

She unzipped his fly and snaked her hand into his pants. When he felt her warm, soft fingers go about his hard prick, he squirted again and made a face. But it was a pleased expression that crossed his face, for Sammy had never experienced such a wonderful feeling. He suddenly felt like spraying his fluid all over everything. God, what was he thinking of? He couldn't spray his stuff all over. The woman would think he was crazy.

He was wrong. Apparently, she didn't think anything of the kind, for she had dropped to her knees and was kissing his wet cock passionately. This made Sammy squirt again and he quickly apologized to her for having gone off on her lips. She only shook her head, licked her lips, and applied a powerful, wonderful suction to his cock. In less than ten seconds his prick had exploded in her mouth, had drained itself of all fluid and then frantically he had yanked it from her wet lips, stuffed it back in his pants and then hysterically ran down the stairs and out into the street. His heart stammered wildly for more than an hour afterward. He thought he was going to die, he was so excited and agitated.

It was one week later that Sammy gathered up enough courage to walk past Mrs. Gray's house again. He glanced up hopefully at the front porch as he went by, but saw no sign of the woman who had made him feel so wonderful. Deeply disappointed, he walked down the street, around the block, killing as much time as he could before coming around to the front of her house once more. His heart leaped wildly when he saw her standing on the porch. He was momentarily frightened, but courage returned to him quickly as he turned down the walk and came to a stop near the bottom step leading up to the porch.

"Hello, Mrs. Gray," he said shyly, looking at her shapely figure. "Have you got any jobs you want done today? Anything I can do for you?"

She winked at him but it was barely perceptible. "Why yes, as a matter of fact, I do have a little job for you. Please come in." She opened the door in back ol her and held it while he swiftly passed by her into the living room. She closed the door and came to him, putting one arm about his shoulders, and the other hand going directly to his crotch. She felt his rapidly rising cock and breathed deeply. "Well, what have we here, Sammy? That's right isn't it? I mean your name?"

He couldn't remember if he had told her his name or not. "Yes, Mrs. Gray. That's my name. Sammy. Boy, that feels good. Rub me hard."

She didn't rub him hard but unzipped his fly and took his prick in her hand, jacking it gently. Finally, she pulled it out of his pants and looked down at it, wetting her lips with her tongue. "My goodness, you have another one of those big, hard things, haven't you, Sammy?"

"Yes, Mrs. Gray," he flushed. "It's been like this almost all the time since I first saw you." God, his heart was thumping wildly!

She bent over and whispered in his ear as if there might be others present. "Want to get in bed, naked, with me, Sammy?"

His face reddened. "I want to do it to you," he said, his voice trembling with excitement. "I want to really do it."

"Drop your pants, kid," she commanded, sounding as rough as she had the other time. "Come on, now... drop those pants. I want to see your balls, your cock, and everything."

Sammy pushed his pants down as soon as she let go of his cock. He stepped out of them and gingerly placed them on a chair. He suddenly felt terribly shy.

"Oh, but you must take off your underpants, too, kid," she said, when he made no move to do so.

He felt his face getting warm again and knew he was flushing. "Boy," he said, "you sure are nice to me." He wasn't quite certain if this was the right sort of thing to say to her or not, but he said it anyway.

"Take off your underpants," she repeated. "I want to see your prick and balls."

His face growing warmer by the second, Sammy pushed down his shorts and stepped out of them. He was glad his shirt hung down enough to at least partially hide his cock.

"Lift up your shirt, kid," she barked. "I can't see anything with that shirt hanging down over your cock that way."

She's really crazy, he thought. She must be. Women just don't talk this way. But he lifted his shirt and she came closer to him and looked at his quivering erection, touching it and pushing it as she lustfully examined his balls, all the while moistening her lips as if they were very dry.

"You sure got a sucky one, kid. It's really sucky." The words seemed peculiar to Sammy.

Sammy merely moaned. Her use of the word "sucky" nearly drove him wild with desire.

"Like to hear me talk this way, don't you, kid? Makes you hot. Right?" She peered into his eyes wildly.

He nodded, unable to answer her. The words seemed stuck in his throat. She moved slightly away from him and quickly dropped her dress down over her shoulders. Sammy stared at her, hoping she would take off her clothing. She did not undress. She simply lowered her dress slightly over her titties. Sammy noted that she wore nothing under the dress. He drew in his breath at the sight of the crease between her large, round tits. The cleavage was considerable, and he found it next to impossible to think of anything other than how wonderful it was to be able to see this woman's naked body.

His cock became even harder, if that were possible, and a few drops of fluid appeared in the tiny opening at the end of it. Boy, he was hot. Why didn't she do something to him before he lost it all on the floor?

"Are you gonna fuck me this time?" she demanded suddenly, sounding very blunt about it.

"I want to do it," he exclaimed, hardly knowing what to say in answer to her question. "So you want to fuck me, kid? Is that it? You're ready this time to do it, right?" Sammy could only nod and wet his horribly dry lips.

"That's a good boy," she said, sounding as if she were talking to her pet dog. "That's a good boy."

"Can I see your... tits?" he blurted, his face reddening even more.

She glanced down at her breasts, then looked back at him. "You mean you Want to see all of them, instead of just two-thirds of them?" "I want to see your tits," he said, his voice shaking.

She partly closed one eye. "Getting a bit braver now, aren't you, kid?" She reached up and tugged her dress down over one tit, leaving the other partially covered. Sammy sucked in his breath as he looked at the revealed tit flesh. "God," he cried. "It's pretty. Can I touch it?"

"You can touch it and you can suck it, kid."

"I... can... touch it and I... can... suck it?" he repeated incredulously.

"Sure. Go ahead. I enjoy having young boys sucking my tits."

A bead of liquid appeared on the end of his cock, but he didn't blow off as he feared he might. When she moved even closer to him, he impulsively reached out his hand and cupped the naked tit. It felt good, warm and soft. Another drop of liquid appeared in the opening at the end of his hard-on.

"Suck it, kid," she told him, putting her hand behind his head and pulling his lips down to the nipple. Suck my tit, kid, suck it hard. Take as much in your mouth as you can, but don't bite it."

Sammy's heart was thundering now, and as he bent over to kiss her soft tit, he moaned, and put his arms about her, hanging onto her shoulders fiercely. Her body was warm and soft and inviting. It was a new sensation for Sammy, and he wanted more of this feeling.

"Suck my tit, kid," Mrs. Gray told him fiercely. "Don't just kiss it." Her hand crept down and she took his cock in her grasp again, jacking him gently. She nearly drove him wild with passion.

He began a fucking movement against her belly.

She laughed. "Now you're catching on, kid. Getting ready to do some fucking, aren't you? I can tell. When a kid starts moving his hips in a fucking motion, he's getting ready to blow, you can bet on it."

"Please show me your cunt," he begged, pulling his lips away from her tit. "Take off your clothes," he added, thinking she might not understand him.

"So! You think you want to climb on top of me now, do you?"

"I want to do it to you so bad," he cried, almost whining the words, so great was his urge.

"Good." She pushed him away and stepping back, dropped her dress to the floor. Sammy thought his heart was going to stop beating the moment he saw her completely naked except for her pantyhose. When she slipped the hose down and stepped out daintily, he was absolutely certain his heart was going to stop.

It didn't.

She was completely naked now, as was he. Grasping his hand, she pulled him toward the sofa. She fell flat on her back at once. Sammy was on top of her quickly, his hard, wet cock stabbing at her recklessly. She inserted it for him and he pushed. When his aching prick entered her warm, lush cunt and he felt the heat of her inner body enveloping his most sensitive area, he could not control what happened. He blew his nuts into her cunt immediately, and kept on blowing off in her for a very long time while she simply lay there and sighed and occasionally patted his bare ass.

Her tender touches made him blow all the more.

"You're a very bad boy, Sammy," she said, but not nearly as severely as her words might indicate. "You fucked off in me before I was ready for you. Now, you must climb off and come back tomorrow, and tomorrow you must do a better job. Understand?"

"Yes, ma'am." Sammy pulled his cock out when the flowing was definitely over and done with, dressed himself hurriedly, almost without realizing what he was doing, and left the house after promising he would be back the following day.

Sammy did not return the next day for a very good reason. He became ill during the night and the next morning his aunt called in a doctor to examine him.

Sammy had developed whooping cough, and it was three weeks before he was able to leave the house again.

The very first place he headed for was Mrs. Gray's home. When he arrived there, she was standing on the porch, seemingly looking at the traffic that was passing the house. Sammy ran to the steps and halted. "I've been real sick," he said, the words tumbling out. "I had whooping cough."

Mrs. Gray sniffed and frowned severely. "Go home, kid. I'm mad at you." Sammy ran up the steps partway. "Please, Mrs. Gray, don't be mad. It's true. I've really been sick. Had the doctor and everything. He wouldn't let me... come here to see you."

She fixed him with a fierce gaze. "You mean to tell me you asked some doctor if you could come here?"

He shook his head quickly. "No, of course not. I wouldn't ever tell anyone... about you, Mrs. Gray."

She looked at him suspiciously. "How do I know you aren't just lying to me?"

"I'm not lying, honest I'm not. I had whooping cough, but I'm all right now." "Hmm... come inside," she said abruptly, delighting him, for this of course was what he wanted to do. She brushed her dark hair out of her eyes and looked at him oddly as he raced up the remainder of the steps and entered the house as she held the door open. Inside, she closed the door, as she had before, and turned around. "Are you gonna fuck me good today, kid, or is it gonna be one of those squirt-and-run deals?"

Sammy felt his cock become instantly hard. "Oh, I like to hear you talk, Mrs. Gray. When I was sick I could hardly think of anything but how you talk and how you look." This was true. He had thought about her constantly.

"Take your prick out," she demanded, ignoring what he had just said.

Hastily, he unzipped his trousers and pulled forth his cock, pointing it at her while he held back the desire to giggle. When she looked down at it, he was pleased to see her wet her lips nervously. He was even more pleased when she sank to her knees and started to suck it.

"Oh, Mrs. Gray, that feels so... good," he cried hotly.

She stopped it immediately and scrambled to her feet. Sammy watched her with fascination and excitement while she hurriedly removed her clothing, standing finally stark naked in front of him. Boy, what big tits she had! What a lot of hair there was around her cunt. Sammy wondered what it would be like to kneel down and kiss her cunt. He nearly jumped when he heard her words. She must have been reading his mind.

"Sure you can, kid. Just kneel down and kiss my cunt."

Sammy dropped to his knees in front of her and kissed her large, shapely thighs. Her skin was smooth and soft, and he wanted very much to do everything he could think of to her. She helped this wish along by pressing her hands against the rear of his head until his face was buried between those wonderfully warm thighs. She had spread her legs slightly and Sammy could feel beads of moisture trickling from her pussy, touching his lower lip.

Impulsively, recklessly, he stuck his tongue into her cunt, but withdrew it quickly. "Leave it in there, kid," she barked, jerking her head angrily. "What'd you pull it out for?"

"I don't know," he almost sobbed. The truth was, he was so excited at being so near her cunt, that his brain seemed to stop functioning for a moment.

"Stick your goddamned tongue in me, kid, or I'll hit you," she barked angrily.

He grabbed her by her hips and licked her cunt eagerly, passionately. Vaguely, he heard the woman breathing hard and moaning every now and then, but he paid little attention to it - he was far too excited by what he was doing to her cunt. Her hairy place has such a sweet, wild taste to it that it was like nothing else he had ever known before.

"Honey-dip me, kid," she cried mysteriously. "Honey-dip this old gal." She seemed to choke for a moment. Then she said, "That's it, kid. Work your tongue fast in my cunt.

Lick it! Suck it! Do everything to it. Jesus! I like that, kid! Keep it up!"

Again she was pressing on the back of his head so hard that he thought she was going to break his neck. When he shook his head hard trying to persuade her through his action to remove her hands, she must have understood, for she let up a bit on the pressure. She drew him across the room and sank down on a chair, spreading her legs wide and bringing one foot up and placing it on his shoulder. Almost immediately she brought the other leg up and put it over his other shoulder. Now he was locked between her thighs, her cunt staring him directly in the face. He could plainly see her juicy slit. The sight of it caused him to spout a little from his cock. He felt her hand grasping him there, felt her pinching his cock and at times, jacking it. He went off - but not all the way - his spunk striking the floor. For all he knew, his goo might have struck her body, because her legs were so high up, she might have been directly in line with his spray. At that moment, Sammy didn't care where he went off or what it hit. His main concern was in enjoying the sucking of her wet, generous twat.

"Make me come, kid, make me come," she urged, giving his cock a few more jackings.

Sammy went into her cunt with his lips and his tongue as though he had been going down on adult women for years. What he lacked in technique, he made up in intensity. He found that by darting his tongue in and out of her only a short distance while alternately moving it quickly from side to side, he was able to drive this woman almost out of her mind with passion. Her shouts and groans, her pats on the back, her pinching of his flesh, the squeezing pressure of her legs about his neck, were all ample indication of her arousal. It was all extremely exciting and thrilling to young Sammy, and having all the energy in the world at his disposal, despite having been quite ill, he went after her now like a passion-ridden animal. He bit her and licked her; tongued her, lipped her. He made little snorting noises and the woman began to jerk and thrash about wildly as he worked her cunt rapidly.

"Oh, Jesus, kid! Oh, Jesus, kid," she kept saying over and over. Her body continued to jerk violently, her legs stiffened about his head so strongly that he was momentarily frightened, but even so, he was far more passionate than frightened. He let forth a strange sound from his throat as he pushed his face into her cunt so fiercely, so deeply, that the woman finally began to scream for him to stop it. Sammy stopped it, but reluctantly. He stood up after knocking her legs from his shoulders. He felt strong now, powerful. More powerful than she. After all, he had been willing to go on with the act, but this grown woman had been unable to keep up with him.

A note of arrogance crept into his tone and manner and he found he enjoyed this tremendously. He sneered slightly, at the panting woman.

"I was too much for you, eh?" Sammy said, proud of himself. "That's the trouble. You

couldn't take it. You just couldn't take what I had to give you." "You... you... were... wonderful, Sammy," she stammered.

"Damn right I was," he cried. "Now what I need is to find a real woman, a real broad, one who can take as much as she thinks she can dish out. Ain't no such woman around here. Me, I'll have to go find such a broad." Sammy suddenly felt much older, more mature, very, very adult.

"Please, kid, don't be mad at me," she begged him.

"Don't call me that," he snapped. "You're the real kid. You folded up. Not me. I ain't no kid!"

"That's right, Sammy," she whimpered. "You were more than enough for me - but - where are you going?"

He had started to put on his trousers. Now, he stopped and looked at her. "What?" he snapped.

"I asked you where you were going, Sammy dear," she said, her tone of voice much different from what it had previously been.

He stated triumphantly, "I am going to the can to take a piss. When I come back get ready for the biggest fuck you've ever known. I've decided to stay here and do you a favor."

"Very well, Sammy. I'll wait right here for you."

He looked at her with a combination of contempt and love. "Right," he said shortly.

"You wait right there, woman. I'm coming back to throw a fuck into you." He did come back. He "threw a fuck" into her, which was what she had wanted all along, of course.

Chapter SEVEN

Anna Switzer, the subject of our next case history, had lived in the same small town all her life. She had married at nineteen, had been widowed before she was thirty. At age thirty-five she was still a sexy-looking woman, but practically all the men of the town had given up on her. None of them could induce her to go to bed. They were not aware of the fact that Anna's appetite for sex had changed. She now had a craving for boys, very young boys. Anna ran a candy shop and as the owner she quite naturally came to know a large number of youngsters, some of them not quite as young as one might think.

Anna particularly liked to have a young boy in her store just prior to closing time. By being extremely clever, at times, she would induce a boy to accompany her into her quarters at the rear of the store, whereupon she would reveal one of her tits to him, or do some other such startling thing in order to get him aroused sexually. She usually succeeded in getting what she wanted from the boy, for she was extremely careful to invite only those boys who had the look of lust about them, young though they might be. Anna was a decided expert at spotting such boys - she was an experienced expert in this matter.

The people of the town never suspected that they had such a female in their midst, a woman ready to make illicit love to a youngster at the earliest opportunity. The boys of the town knew all about her, and there was more than one young married man who sometimes looked back wistfully to the sex sessions he had experienced in the back room of Anna's store. Most of them had obtained their knowledge of what the sex act is all about from Anna Switzer. Anna knew how to arouse a boy and keep him aroused. It was a source of infinite satisfaction to take a young kid to the rear of the store after closing hours, lock the front door, and "play" with him until he was wildly excited and ready to perform any act she desired.

Anna had many desires. All of them sexual in nature and involving young boys. It was on a Thursday near closing time that she spotted a boy of about thirteen standing near the front candy showcase, looking at the various candy bars wistfully. Anna knew the look - she had seen it a thousand times at least. She glanced about quickly to ascertain if an adult were with him. She satisfied herself that he was alone. Walking over to him, she bent over the counter purposefully in order to expose her large, round tits as they pushed up from her low-cut dress.

"Hello, young man," she said, smiling nicely at him. "Haven't seen you in my store before. Are you new in town?"

The blond boy glanced up at her, his blue eyes startled for the moment. "Huh?" he asked, apparently not hearing what she had said. "I mean, I beg your pardon," he added quickly.

Anna smiled more broadly. She liked polite boys. They were the most fun. Polite boys were harder to fuck than the rude ones and this, oddly enough, made them all the more desirable. "I asked you if you were new in town. Did you just move here perhaps?"

The boy grinned. "Oh, yes. I moved here with my grandmother. She bought a house," he added, as if this explained why he now lived in town.

"What's your name, son?" Anna was looking the kid over very carefully. She was certain he was capable of having the lust look even though it was not particularly apparent at the moment.

"Dan... Dan Knight. The guys call me Danny."

"I suppose you don't know many guys in town yet if you just moved here," Anna said shrewdly.

"Don't know anybody. We just moved here yesterday afternoon."

"Hmm," Anna said reflectively. "How very nice." The boy looked puzzled. "I beg your pardon?"

"Since you're new in town, the candy bars are on the house," she said.

His eyes brightened and he looked at her gratefully. "Honest?"

She smiled. "Yes. Pick out a couple of them. Any kind you like."

The boy quickly pointed to two of the largest bars, which made Anna smile with delight. A somewhat selfish boy was quite often the best type for seducing. When he became aroused, he demanded to be gratified, which, of course, was the very thing she intended doing.

Anna got the candy bars out of the case but instead of handing them to him immediately, she went to the front door and quietly locked it, her body shielding the lock from his inquiring eyes. She came back to the boy and crooked her finger. "Come," she said. The one word had an authoritative ring to it, but it was not said in a manner that would frighten the boy.

He followed her into the rear of the store and into her apartment, where she also closed the door. She always kept the shades drawn, so this was no problem for her now. Turning about and still clutching the candy bars she gestured to him to approach her.

"All new boys in town get free candy bars, but in order to get them they have to play a little game first," she told him lustfully.

The blond boy looked at her curiously. "What kind of game?"

"First of all my name is Anna. Whenever you want to address me, call me by name." She paused and studied him. Definitely the lust look was coming into his eyes, but not quite fast enough. She would have to help it along a bit. "Now then," she said,

"will you please do me a favor before I tell you anything more?"

"Sure," he said eagerly. "Sure I will. Anything you want."

"I want you to remove my shoes for me, son. I'm going to sit on the sofa here and you... well, you just remove my shoes... my feet hurt a little," she added in case he was wondering about this. "Okay," he said, looking puzzled.

Anna sat down on the sofa in such a manner that her short dress crept high on her thighs. Purposely, she rarely wore pantyhose. She wanted young boys to glimpse her bare thigh flesh above her ordinary length stockings. Leg flesh made young boys hot in a hurry, she knew. Now, as the new boy dropped to his knees in front of her, she made certain that he saw plenty of leg flesh.

The boy, Danny, had a great deal of trouble in removing her shoes for the simple reason that she pressed her feet firmly to the carpet. This was to afford him a longer period of time to be on his knees in front of her, which quite naturally allowed him more quick furtive glances at her legs. She saw his face becoming redder and redder. This was always the way with a potentially hot, young boy, and it pleased her immensely.

"Can't you get them off, son?" Anna asked, knowing full well that he couldn't.

"I could if you'd just lift your legs a little," he returned. Obviously he had meant to say "lift your feet," but those shapely thighs close to his eyes, bare and inviting, had affected his thinking.

"Oh, you mean like this?" Anna asked with pretended innocence. She lifted her legs high, spreading them wide so he could easily see her cunt. (Anna never wore panties - panties were non-sexual, according to her.)

The boy gasped at the sight in front of him but apparently did not dare to make any comment. Quickly, he slipped off her shoes but before he could get up, she brought her large, pretty legs down over his shoulders and locked her ankles together behind his back.

"You like this, son?" she asked softly, seductively. God, she was hot!

"I - er - I... " The kid couldn't talk. This was obvious. He was too shaken up.

"Anything nice happening between your legs, son?" she asked, squinting her eyes. He surprised her by looking her straight in the eyes. " 'Course there is."

Anna smiled prettily but did not relax her leg grip about him. "Come now. Tell Anna what's happening between your legs."

"I'm hard," he said flatly. "I'm real hard."

She was agreeably astonished, for she had thought this one to be the type of boy who wouldn't admit she had given him a hard-on. Smiling at him, she took his head in her hands gently and pressed. "Now then, son," she said softly. "You must tell me if there is anything you want to do very badly."

He looked at her, his blue eyes definitely filled with lust. "What do you mean?" he asked, evidently stalling for time.

Anna was enjoying herself immensely. "Well," she said, in answer to him, "look about

you. Isn't there something you'd like to stick your hard thing into?" Again he agreeably astonished her. "You want me to fuck you?" he asked. "Of course, son. That's what my hole is for. That's what your hard cock is for. You know that."

"Yeah, I guess so... I mean I guess you're right. What do you want me to do?" He sounded less sure of himself now.

She moved so that her cunt was even more exposed to his view - his face being only a foot or so from it. "Never mind what I want," she said, not really meaning this, but saying it to get him started. "What do you want? What does your instinct tell you to do?"

He leaned forward and kissed her bare leg about her stocking. He then pulled back and looked into her eyes while she sucked in her breath and hoped he wouldn't stop there. "Is that all right?" he asked humbly. "I mean you're not mad at me for kissing your leg?" There was tremendous excitement in his tone of voice she noted. "No, son. You may do whatever you want. I don't get mad at nice boys. I like nice boys like yourself. Go right ahead. Help yourself." She fixed him with a sensuous stare and he flushed.

"Will you take your legs off my shoulders? I can hardly move. Not that I don't like them there... it's just that... " Whatever it was that was bothering him was not said. Anna removed her legs but took great pains to further expose her cunt as she lay back and looked up at the young boy's pink face. He's a pretty kid, she thought. Pretty enough to eat. She noticed then that she had picked up the candy bars without realizing it. Now she put them down, away from her, taking care that the boy wouldn't step on them. "All right, son," she told him. "Here I am. What do you want to do?"

He was still on his knees. Walking on them a few steps, he picked up the candy bars and started to put them in his pocket, but she spoke to him sharply, telling him the bars would melt in his pocket and make a mess. He dropped the candy bars and she reflected that for a moment she had thought he was going to grab the candy and run home to his grandmother. However, the lust was still in his eyes - the lust look - the beautiful thing - and she was now fairly certain he was entertaining no ideas of running away from her. Not just yet.

"What do you want to do to me, son?" she repeated again.

Danny didn't answer her verbally - he simply lowered his face to her legs and began to lick her thigh flesh. Anna was becoming more agitated by the moment and it was no surprise to her that she had a quick, small orgasm as he continued to lick her thighs with his hot, wet tongue.

"Do you like me to do this?" he asked softly.

"Oh... do I? Son... you have no idea of how good it feels." He ran his tongue up her thighs to her pubic hair and stopped.

"Go ahead, son. Dig right in there. I want you badly."

He lifted his head and looked at her again. "If I do that I'll be all wet in the pants."

Anna was equal to this. "Unzip yourself. Take it out. I will hold it. Then if it feels like... wetting... I will catch it."

"Gee, thanks, Anna," the boy blurted. "But why don't you... ?"

She waited and when he did not continue his question, she spoke. "What were you about to say, Danny?"

He seemed to gulp. "Nothing. I mean, I shouldn't say things like that to a lady." "Things like what, Danny?" Anna was almost beside herself with excitement now.

He gulped again. "I was going to say... if I kiss you why don't you kiss... mine, too?"

"Will you kiss mine, Danny? I mean, not just my legs."

"Yes," he answered promptly and actually did kiss her cunt briefly, maddeningly. Anna was on the verge of having another orgasm. "Let me up, son. I'll get on the floor. You can turn around and... well, you know, don't you?"

He nodded, moved away from her, allowing her to drop gently to the carpet, her legs still spread wide to receive his kisses. Looking up at him, she wondered if he knew what to do so that they might execute a sixty-nine. Apparently, instinct was guiding him, for he very properly turned his body about and lay down on top of her, his face near her cunt, his rock-hard cock within kissing distance of her lips. Anna sighed deeply and waited for him to dip his tongue in her slit, which he did almost immediately. Sighing again but this time with more agitation, she took his cock in hand and proceeded to lick the sides of it even as he licked her cunt. She took pains to keep her rhythm and tempo even with his. This was an ideal way for a female to achieve an orgasm as Anna knew only too well.

He "dipped" very well, considering this was very likely his first experience at it. His tongue was warm and wet and he used it - probably by sheerest chance - in the right way on the right spot. From time to time as she kissed and lightly sucked his prick, without applying too much suction, she would feel small spasms occurring within her. These, she knew, were merely previews of a sort to the wild climax she would have later, if luck was with her. Anna believed firmly in luck. Technique alone was not quite enough, at times. Sometimes it required the element of luck for a woman to really have a first-class orgasm. She could not have explained her views in this regard, but she firmly believed them. She had had too many experiences where, she was certain, luck had played a vital role in her obtaining sexual gratification, a thing fondly to be wished for, strived for at all costs.

"I like your hole," the boy muttered. Then he added, "Can I do it in your mouth? I mean, can I let it out in you without making you mad at me?"

Anna removed her lips. "Of course, son. But wait awhile. You must keep doing it to me for a long time before you let it go in me. Will you promise to try very hard to hold it back?"

"Yes," she heard him say, and immediately felt his tongue working into her cunt again.

Anna shuddered with delight.

He stopped his tonguing to speak to her. "Did I hurt you? You seemed to jump around a lot just then."

She pressed his head down firmly into her crotch and began a slow, sensuous

"fuckabout," which consisted of drawing in and letting out her tummy muscles as well as moving her hips slightly in a circular manner. She took great pains not to move very much - she knew a woman must do this only very slightly when a boy was "dipping." Anna had learned this years ago. She was an absolute expert on the fuck-about.

"I like you," the boy told her thickly, lifting his head. "I'm glad I came into your store." "So am I, son." She pressed his head back down between her legs. "Try not to talk so much, son. I prefer that you lick me."

He immediately began to lick her cunt, her thighs, her belly, everywhere he could reach. Once he went almost to her knee and applied his tongue only to bring it up rapidly over her leg flesh and plunge it fiercely into her slit. This nearly raised Anna off the floor - it felt so great. As it was, she cried out in delight.

"You like that, don't you?" he asked, paying no attention to her earlier remark concerning his remaining silent while sucking.

"Yes, yes, very much so. Please do it again, Danny," she begged.

He repeated the tongue movement, this time doing it on her other leg, starting just above her knee and running his tongue slowly up her thigh and plunging it deeply into her cunt as he had before.

"Oh, my goodness," she exclaimed, beginning to believe that this kid was a great deal more experienced at sex than she had originally thought. "Where did you ever learn to do that so well, son?"

"I never did any of this stuff before, but it sure makes you feel good, doesn't it?" "Yes it does." She took his cock between her lips again and lightly sucked it, but she removed her lips quickly when she felt him stiffening. She didn't want him blowing off in her yet. This she knew might cause him to cease his delightful sucking at her cunt. "You sure you don't mind if I pee in you?" he asked, startling her.

She held his cock away from her lips. "Pee in me? What are you talking about, son?"

"Well, you know. I don't really mean pee. It's like pissing - only different."

She sighed with relief. "Oh, yes. I understand." He had, of course, meant "go off" in her, not "pee" in her. He sure as hell had his terms mixed up.

"Will you please suck me?" he asked. "I like it when you do."

"Yes. But wouldn't you like to turn around and... do it to me the regular way for a while?" She didn't really care, for she was the type of woman who could easily achieve an orgasm in more than one way.

He didn't answer her but she felt him twist his body suddenly and before she could adjust to him, he was between her large legs, pumping his stiff cock against her flesh. She put it in quickly and he thrust it deeply into her. She settled back to enjoy his lovemaking but he stopped moving in her and began to press his face deeply into her large, soft tits.

"Keep on with your cock motion, son," she told him. "That's what makes me feel good, you know."

He moved in and out of her once or twice and stopped again. "Hey," he said, "you're awful hot and wet in there, aren't you?"

She laughed softly. "Yes, son, I am indeed. Your cock did that. It is very hard and nice. Don't you like to have it in my hole?"

"Sure I do. It feels good. Only, I think I'm going to pee in you."

She patted him on the back. "You mean go off in me, don't you?"

He nodded and kissed her mouth suddenly. She kissed him back and the moment she did so, he began to pour his stream of liquid fire into her cunt. This brought her to the brink rapidly and she had a fierce but beautiful orgasm, one that left her breathing hard and moaning softly while she patted his back over and over again. He continued to fuck her relentlessly, probably not knowing what he was doing, but liking the feeling of topping a female more than anything else he had ever known. This was her speculation. But she was an expert on young boys and knew their feelings intimately.

"I never went off in a girl before," he told her, his cock still in her but not spurting now.

She loved having him call her a girl. "Haven't you really, son? Then you must come to my store often, you know. I'm sure... you can eat many candy bars every day, can't you?" She was speaking in a mysterious manner, she knew, but he might understand what she meant.

"You sure have a nice store," he said, surprising her.

"Store?"

"I mean, your store is nice and hot and wet and everything."

Anna laughed loudly, her body shaking as she did so. "Oh, so that's what you're calling it, are you? My store. Well, I'll be damned. I never thought of it as being a store, but perhaps it is. Tell me. Will you be visiting my store often, Danny?" "I'm going to get into your nice store every chance I get from now on," he told her and having said the words, he promptly released another great quantity of boy milk into her cunt.

"Good," she exclaimed, going along with his line of talk. "My store needs lots of customers. That is, it needs to be entered often." "Know what I like about your store?" he laughed.

"What?" she asked, pleased at the turn of events.

"I can get into it without having any money."

She patted his butt playfully. "You little devil. Are you telling me you came to my real store - the one at the front, I mean - without having any money?"

"Yes. That's what I did, all right."

Anna laughed until the tears rolled down her cheeks. Then she wrapped her arms and legs about his slender body. "Buy something," she urged, controlling her urge to

laugh. "You're still in my store, and my store doesn't require money, son." He grinned and immediately began to fuck her again.

"That's what Anna needs, son," she breathed. "A nice, slim customer." Chapter EIGHT

In this chapter we will be examining a boy-loving woman who was somewhat different from the others we have described. The boy she was interested in was her own son, Johnny, age twelve. Delia Barber's husband was dead. This is often the case with the type of woman who develops a need for young boys. She went without male sex for several years, attempting the occasional self-masturbation for relief, but finally she could stand it no longer. One night she went to her son's room, crawled in bed with him, hugged and kissed him intensely until she felt his cock grow hard. She told him to get on top of her. He did so with surprising quickness. He made no moves until she put his cock into her pussy hole and told him to do it to her. He responded by doing exactly what she wanted. From that night on Delia slept with her son at every opportunity.

Now, he had been away to summer camp for two weeks and when he returned home she found her passions getting quite out of hand. A good-looking woman in her middle thirties, with an excellent figure, Delia had no difficulty in getting her son interested in fucking with her immediately instead of waiting until evening. He performed with great enthusiasm, did his job quickly and efficiently, gratifying her totally. She kissed him afterwards and then they both got out of bed, showered together and went to the kitchen for a light dinner.

The second night he was home, Delia felt the wild passions overcoming her again. It was nine o'clock at night, too early for her to go to bed. Johnny was watching television and seemingly unmindful of her present condition. No matter. She would heat him up soon enough, she told herself, as she went about the house making certain the various doors were closed and locked.

She came back to where Johnny was sitting engrossed in watching a horror movie.

"Dear," she said, "mother is in need."

He glanced at her. "Can't you wait until this show is over?"

She placed her hands on her wide hips and looked at him intently. "Dear, mother is in need."

Obediently, he got to his feet, shut off the T.V. and followed her into the bedroom. She watched him as he drew off his pants and shirt, socks and shoes. When he was completely naked she stared at his body, her pulse racing wildly.

"Well... " he said. "Take your clothes off, mother."

She undressed, taking her time about it and never once removing her gaze from his nudity. "You're getting to be a good-looking fellow, Johnny," she said. "Ever think about going out with a girl?"

"I was out with a girl at camp. That is, across the lake there was this girl's camp and another guy and I... well, we took a walk in the woods."

"You took a walk in the woods with two girls, you and this other fellow?"

"Yes, mother."

She lilted her lovely, bare tits and let them fall again, this being a calculated move on her part to inspire him to great things in a hurry.

"Did you do it to the girl?" she asked casually.

"Yes, mother."

Delia was afraid her annoyance would show, but after a few moments decided it hadn't. "And did you like doing it to this girl?"

"Yes, sort of."

Delia sucked in air and let it out quickly. She knew a feeling of great relief. So his experiment with sex had not been an unqualified success. Good. Just how she wanted it to be, if it had to be at all. "Did you get on top of her, Johnny, or what?"

"Sure. I mean, yes, mother. I got on top of her."

"What kind of a girl was she?" Delia asked, her curiosity aroused.

He shrugged. "I don't know. Just a girl She let me do it to her without much fuss, if that's what you mean."

Delia bit her lips. "Did you go off quickly, or did you take your time, or what? Tell me about it."

He shrugged again. "I went off pretty quick, I guess. I don't know. She wanted me to do it to her again, so I did."

Delia frowned. "You did it to this girl twice in a row? How very nice of you. Imagine.

Twice in a row, and in the woods, mind you."

"Are you mad at me, mother?"

Delia drew herself up, her nicely shaped tits bouncing about prettily. "Certainly not.

I'm not afraid of a mere girl."

Her son looked at her appraisingly. "Who said anything about you being afraid of her?" he asked, puzzled slightly if his look was any indication.

"Oh... well... I didn't mean to say it just that way, dear. Come to bed with me now. I want you to satisfy me."

"You got hot pants, really got 'em, haven't you, mother?"

She smiled craftily. "You mean the old kind of hot pants or the new kind?"

He grinned crookedly. "The old, naturally. I've already seen you in the new kind so I wouldn't be asking about them."

"Dear me," she said. "Whatever are we talking about?"

"Talking about going to bed, mother, and doing it." Johnny seemed to have matured a great deal in the two short weeks he had been away at camp, she thought. Just how many girls had he taken in those woods, she wondered. "Are we going to bed, mother?" he asked, fingering his soft cock.

"Not much use, is there? Your prick is as soft as a marshmallow."

"I can't help it," he told her. "Usually it gets hard when I see your tits and cunt and stuff. Makes me wonder why."

"I'm wondering, too, Johnny. Have you been masturbating today?"

He frowned. "No. You know I haven't. I never do that anymore. There's no need to." She smiled. "Correct. There's no need for you ever to do such a thing. Not when you have a nice, safe cunt to put it in." "Safe cunt? What's a safe cunt, mother?"

"The only safe cunt you'll ever know, dear. Mine. Mine is safe because it won't contribute to making a baby. I won't allow it to do so. Other cunts... well, you keep on sticking your cock into them and first thing you'll know, some father will be dragging you off to... jail, or something." She wondered if this was believable to him. She certainly hoped so. Delia did not want her son laying girls. Girls were competition. And very dangerous competition. Damn girls, anyway. Why couldn't they behave themselves and leave her son alone?

He was fingering his cock but still it was giving no signs of increasing in size. Delia went to him, brushed his hand away and began to jack him gently. She kept this up for several minutes but still his prick did not become sufficiently hard.

"Whatever is the matter with it, Johnny?" she asked, annoyance creeping into her tone.

"I don't know. It never did this before except for that time I took some of your diet pills by mistake."

"You haven't taken an aspirin today, have you?" she asked quickly. "I mean one out of the bottle on the kitchen shelf?" He nodded. "I took two right after lunch."

She was totally exasperated now. "Damn," she cried. "I broke the bottle I was keeping the diet pills in and put the pills in the old aspirin bottle. You took diet pills again... now we won't be able to do anything, maybe till tomorrow."

"I'm sorry. I thought they were aspirin tablets."

Delia thought swiftly and lay down on the bed as seductively as she could. "Well, you

can be a good boy and... service mother with your lips and tongue, dear."

He shook his head. "I feel kind of queasy, mother."

"You're refusing me?" she asked, lifting her head and glaring at him.

"No, not that. It's just that I feel queasy."

"Well, get out of here then, damn it," she almost screamed at him. "And the next time you want an aspirin come to me and ask for it."

He left the room quietly and an hour later she found him in the chair before the T.V. set, sound asleep and still minus his clothing. She switched off the set and ran her fingers lovingly over his cock. He did not awaken, so she dropped to the floor beside him and began to lightly kiss his legs. Still he did not awaken, so she glanced at him sharply and swore softly.

"Why I could almost believe you took one of my sleeping pills to offset the diet pills," she muttered aloud. To test this theory she pinched his leg quite hard. He responded only by making an incoherent sound in his throat. "I knew it," she said to herself. "That nutty kid did take one of my sleeping pills. I could almost... " She had been about to say "hit him" when she ceased speaking. She certainly didn't want to strike her son. That would be silly. Sons could be exasperating at times and this was one of the times. Delia sighed and started to get to her feet with the idea of placing a pillow behind his head and a sheet over him. But then she stopped and sat back down. "Why don't I suck his cock, see if it'll get hard while he's sleeping. At least it's better than nothing." She was delighted with this idea and as she fingered his cock lightly, she felt an intense need somewhere deep within her being. Delia had never been much of a supporter of oral sex but now she was thinking about it as being a

most fascinating affair. Perhaps this was because Johnny was sleeping and probably wouldn't know if she took his prick in her mouth and sucked on it. "What if he wakes up while I'm doing it?" she asked herself aloud but softly. Inwardly, she shrugged the question away and bent her head over her sleeping son's cock.

Her heart was beating very fast as she took the limp prick between her lips and lightly massaged it.

He stirred and moaned but didn't awaken.

She pulled his legs apart slightly and he stirred and moaned again. Delia was so hot now she was ready to suck him even if he woke up. Throwing caution to the winds, she lipped his cock, getting the thing into her mouth as far as was possible, considering its condition. Much to her pleasant surprise, the thing began to grow in her mouth and she glanced up at his eyes quickly to see if he were awake. He wasn't. Sighing deeply - the prick still in her mouth - she began to suck it in earnest, her heart beating faster by the moment. She was obliged to stop for a short while because her breathing had become so hectic she was not getting sufficient air. Delia had seldom been this hot before in her entire life and she knew it must be some kind of psychological hotness - the fact that he was her own son as well as the fact that he was unconscious.

"Why, I'm a regular old bitch," she exclaimed happily. "I love this. Why haven't I ever tried it before?" She meant on her son... the truth was she had done it once or twice to her husband but that had been years ago and both of them had been rather drunk.

Johnny stirred in the chair again and she wondered if she was strong enough to pick him up and carry him to her bed. My, it would be exciting to suck his cock in bed - while he slept through it.

She put her arms under his legs, got to her feet and lifted him. He was very heavy for her but she managed to carry him to the bedroom and place him down on the bed without his awakening. Johnny was really sleeping hard. She examined him carefully, the way his chest rose and fell, knowing there was nothing wrong with him.

She had given him a sleeping pill once and he had reacted the same way.

Delia looked at her body's reflected image in a mirror near the bed. She smiled at her reflection, noting the lust in her own eyes. "Boy, am I one hot gal tonight," she murmured. Turning about, she stared at the naked form of her son and was pleased to see that his cock had become harder than it had been less than a minute since she had sucked on it. Sinking to her knees beside the bed, she lowered her mouth to his crotch and kissed him fondly, everywhere, his cock, his balls, his belly, even his pubic hair.

Delia had a quick, beautiful, little orgasm just from the act of kissing his body. "Oh,"

she moaned, "I've never been so hot. It's wonderful!"

She resumed her kissing, running her tongue over his lower body in every conceivable way, wondering what he would do if he woke up and caught her. Immediately she thrust this sort of speculation out of her mind. After all, she was the head of this household, not Johnny. Never mind what Johnny thought about her actions. She need only to do as she pleased, within reason. She was the mother and he would have to take orders from her.

"Stop kidding yourself," she muttered. "Shut your trap and wrap your lips about his cock." She realized she was doing quite a bit of talking to herself this evening, but what could a woman do under these circumstances... her son was in a deep sleep from taking pills... and her pussy was throbbing for attention.

She took Johnny's cock into her mouth and began sucking lightly on the rubbery thing. It grew longer and stiffer. Delia's heart began to beat furiously again and she went down on her son all the way, savoring the taste of his cock, the feel of it between her lips. He was quite a mouthful, this boy of hers. It was delicious, too, and definitely pleasing. She knew now, if she had not known before, that she definitely wanted him to come in her mouth. If it became necessary to wake him up in order for him to release his fluid then she would just have to shake him awake, even as she sucked him off.

"I'm so hot," she moaned, "and he had to be so sound asleep." Still, even though she had complained about his sleeping soundly, she knew it was because of this that she was so excited and agitated.

She kissed his balls after pulling his legs further apart. She stuck her tongue down low on him and dug it into his anus briefly. Then she came back to his cock and went down on it all the way again.

Even though he was sleeping, his hands shot out and found her head and held her firmly as if steering her head up and down on his prick. He moaned just as she did the same thing. She glanced up at his closed eyes, removing her lips for the moment.

"Dear, are you sleeping?"

He moved his lips but his eyes didn't open. She returned to his cock and wrapped her wet lips about the very stiff tool. Quickly she went down on him the whole distance again and quickly he pressed his hands against her head as before. "You're liking this even if you are asleep," she murmured thickly, her mouth filled with cock.

"Faster," he mumbled. "Faster. Suck it faster!" She sucked it faster.

"Faster still," he moaned.

Thinking he must be awake now and wanting to speak to him, she removed her lips again and looked at his eyes. "Are you playing games with me, Johnny? Open your eyes."

He half opened his eyes. "I'm asleep but don't stop. I like you to suck my cock." Delia drew in her breath. It was rare that he spoke to her in this manner. "Wake up," she heard herself demanding.

"Suck my cock, mother.'

"I may continue with it but I want you to wake up now, Johnny.

He opened his eyes and stared at her sleepily. "I took one of your pills," he told her. "That's why I can hardly keep my eyes open, or even get them open, but don't stop sucking me just because of my eyes. I knew what you were doing all along." "Really," Delia said, annoyed a little. "Then suppose you do a little sucking for mother."

"You want me to suck your cunt, mother?" he asked sleepily.

"Yes, I do. If I can suck your penis, you can do the same for me, my cunt, I mean." "I'd like to suck your nice cunt, mother. Get on top of me and spread your legs. I'll tongue your cunt good, if I can just stay awake. But I want you to keep on sucking me, too." His speech was thick.

She wondered if he was all right, he sounded so odd, so unlike himself. Examining his eyes carefully, she decided he was okay but very sleepy indeed. She would have to hide her pills some place where he couldn't find them, but time enough for that later. Right now, she must do as he suggested - climb on top of him and lower her cunt to his pink lips.

"Oh... I'm so hot," she cried, scarcely aware of what she was doing. She climbed on top of her son and lowered her loins to his face. When she felt his tongue running slowly over her skin, she realized that he was too sleepy to do it any better, any faster. Perhaps she should get a towel, soak it in cold water and douse his head in it. Still, maybe that wouldn't be such a good idea, either. It might shock him out of wanting to have sex with her in an oral fashion.

More than ever now, she knew she wanted to suck his cock, to suck it until it erupted in her mouth and flowed thick, gray cream into her stomach. "Suck me, mother," he begged from the other side of the bed.

She caught his cock in her hand and held it stiffly for a moment. Then she kissed the end of it and put her lips about the head gingerly. He squirted a little into her mouth and she drank it in eagerly.

"Oh... I love that," she cried out. "Squirt more, dear." "I will if I can. Keep sucking," he called back.

She went down on him only half the distance, thinking it better to stay within tonguerubbing distance of the head of it. This seemed to work very well, for his breathing became faster as did his tonguing of her twat.

"That's it, dear," she encouraged him. "Go fast like that. Mother likes this very much." "Don't talk, mother, suck," he cried passionately.

She began to work her lips and tongue over the head of his prick, applying suction. She was rewarded by feeling his body stiffen, stiffen even more and then jerk severely. All the while his tongue continued running into her slit frantically. The two of them began a heavy panting and Delia knew she couldn't hold back much longer. Fortunately for her peace of mind as well as her sense of sexual gratification, she did not need to continue much longer. Just as she realized how tired she was, she felt more squirtings from his rock-hard prick. The milky goo began to flow into her mouth quite slowly and easily at first, but then, suddenly, it erupted fiercely and she found her mouth was full of her son's cock juice.

Happily, she experienced a strong orgasm at the same precise moment. Both mother and son relieved themselves of their sexual desires at the identical moment. Both mother and son went after each other's sexual apparatus with renewed vigor and in a short time the second eruption for each took place.

Then, of course, it all came to an end and they lay there, the mother on top of the son, the son beneath the mother, a classic example of the mother-son sexual syndrome.

There is nothing unusual in this sort of happening. All over America widowed mothers are finding it necessary to more or less force their young sons to make physical love to them. As for the sons, one hears little from them, but it would appear that they soon learn to adjust to this labor - in fact, there is some evidence that most of the boys grow to enjoy the situation enormously.

Chapter NINE

Grace Abernathy was an unmarried woman of thirty. She had been impregnated when she was sixteen. Her parents had forced her to have an abortion and flatly refused to permit her to marry the boy. Consequently, and possibly to "get even" with them, she had never married, although before they died in a car accident they had tried hard and often to marry her off to several older men who were well established in the business world. Grace would have none of that, and as she grew older she found she had turned against all adult men and vastly preferred teenagers. The more teenagers she went out with (and invited to her apartment), the happier she was. And the younger they were, the better. Finally, she found herself "going steady" with a fifteen-year-old, named Tommy. Tommy was, she felt, an excellent companion for her.

Grace Abernathy's conception of an excellent male companion was somewhat different from that of most women of thirty. She had taken an immediate liking to young Tommy the moment she had first seen him on the street. When she finally induced him to enter her apartment, he had told her of his family life - his parents were both alcoholics, they never paid much attention to the boy and most of the time he didn't have enough to eat. She also discovered he seldom complained about his circumstances.

Now, she was waiting for him to show up at her apartment and er nervous glances Hi the clock on the wall indicated she was somewhat fearful he might not come at all. There had been a few times in the past that he had not arrived when expected, but always he had had a good excuse. She didn't doubt him especially, but then, on the other hand, she didn't trust him totally, either. Grace Abernathy had not really trusted anyone in years.

"Damn," she muttered as she paced the floor. "Where the hell is that kid?"

She went to her bedroom and surveyed herself in a mirror. Frowning, she changed her clothing from pants and blouse to a dress, very short and very revealing. Again she inspected herself, nodding with satisfaction.

"I've got to stop wearing those goddamned pantsuits," she muttered. "They're about as sexy looking as burlap bags." She looked at her tits with pleasure, noting the way they stood out in the more feminine attire. She also examined her blond, long hair, noting the way it fell gracefully to her shoulders, nodding approval at her reflection. "Good thing the kid didn't arrive on time," she muttered. "He would have seen me looking less than my sexiest best." Grace knew she was sexy looking and wasn't at all modest about saying so at times, especially to herself. She loved looking this way. She wanted to be thought of as a sex object by males, young males, young teenagers.

"Where the hell is that kid?" she cried aloud, just as she had done earlier. "I've got a bad case of the hots. Can't stand waiting much longer for him." She knew she would wait for him, however. Young Tommy was much too good in bed to be put down for any reason. She would wait all night for' him, if necessary, but the prospect of doing that made her shiver.

She returned to the living room just in time to hear the faint tapping sound on the door. She went to it, opened it and breathed a sigh of relief before saying, "Tommy, damn you. Where have you been? I've been waiting over an hour for you." Tommy stepped into the room, closed and locked the door himself. He was a blackhaired kid of average build. At that moment he was frowning. "Got hung up," he explained. "This guy was giving me a bad time. Not real bad, just a little. Stupid sonofabitch!"

Grace suspected that Tommy was mixed up in something illegal in a very minor way, but she never talked about it directly. She wasn't interested in the other things he did - she was only interested in his sexual performances. "Okay," she said. "Want a drink first?"

"First?" he asked, grinning. "Do you mean there's going to be something else between us?"

"Oh, come on. Don't kid with me, baby." He just stood there and grinned.

Grace did not believe in wasting time. "Tommy," she said softly. "Let me see your cock. I'm very hot tonight."

A sudden look of lust came over his young face. Instantly he unzipped his fly and took out his cock. It was not very hard at the moment but it would soon be rigid. "There," he said, looking down at his prick, "now you're looking better." It was as if he thought his cock had ears and could understand his act of talking to it. "You have a pretty cock," Grace told him swiftly, as she had done many times

before. "Do you mind if I suck it?"

He grinned again. "So Gracie girl is in a sucking mood tonight, is she? Crazy!" "Not just a sucking mood, Tommy. In an all-round sex mood. Anything goes tonight as far as I'm concerned."

He quickly stripped off his pants and tossed them aside. He never wore underwear, though she had tried on several occasions to induce him to at least wear briefs, without success. Now, however, because she was so hot, she was happy that he did not wear them, for she could instantly see his cock, the dark pubic hair, the puffy balls, the sleek belly. Grace loved to look at him when he was exposed in this manner. She thought he had the nicest build for a male that anyone could have. He was, of course, young and that in itself was a very great deal, but besides his youth, he had other qualities.

His skin was a sort of natural tan in color, although she knew he never made a point of attempting to become a sun worshipper. Tommy was not the type of kid to be bothered with such things. His body was slender, but not skinny or scrawny. His belly - and this was what impressed her greatly for some reason she could never quite understand - was flat, very flat. There were muscles in his belly that showed when he laughed suddenly and she particularly loved trying to make him laugh while he was naked.

"Take your shirt off, Tommy," she said. "You know how I like to see your bare chest." "Yeah," he replied slyly. "I know about that. You're real weird about this body thing, aren't you?"

"I see nothing weird about it at all," she returned. "I like to look at your naked body.

What's so awful about that?"

He grinned and removed his shirt. "Like to see my chest muscles, don't you, baby?"

She smiled. "I like your belly muscles better." "You like my cock the best, though, don't you?" "Best muscle you've got," she cried passionately. "I'd be in a hell of a shape without it." "So would I," she answered softly.

"Take your clothes off, Gracie. I've already seen how great you look. Clothes are no longer necessary for us."

"You didn't really say I looked nice, Tommy." She wanted very much to hear this from him. It was very important.

"I said you looked great. Okay? You look real nice and pretty. Now take off your clothes and suck my cock."

"Oh, Tommy, I love to hear you talk hot like that."

He strutted about the room as she quickly undressed, his cock sticking out and up in a rather ridiculous fashion. But it was not ridiculous to Grace. She could scarcely take her eyes off that rigid tool. She was becoming hotter and hotter by the moment and she nearly had an orgasm from looking at him and undressing at the same time. She placed her clothing down carefully and stood up straight, giving him the most lustful look she could manage, which was considerable. He continued to strut about the room playfully, and she was obliged to run after him and grasp him from behind. "Hey, help," he cried playfully. "I'm being attacked from the rear." He wriggled his butt about and she pressed her nudity against his and wriggled with him, getting a great feeling of pleasure from this somewhat silly behavior.

"Turn around, Tommy," she begged him after a few long moments of this. "Please?" "Sorry, ma'am, I'm just too shy to reveal my parts to a strange female." He laughed and she giggled.

"Come on, Tommy, stop teasing me. I'm awful hot, baby. Fuck me. Do something.

Don't just play with me, honey."

He turned about suddenly and kissed her mouth passionately, drew back and looked at her. "How's that for a starter, or would you prefer I kiss your asshole, darling?" "Stop it," she cried, choking with laughter. "You keep on being silly and I'll lose all desire to... fuck."

He held her at arm's length. "Who're you kiddin', baby? You ain't never gonna lose desire for sex. You got enough desire for ten females."

She dropped to her knees. "I want to suck your cock and no more silly talk," she murmured, plunging her face into his tummy lovingly.

"You're too high up, baby. You got to get lower down than that."

She placed her lips about his swollen cock and sucked on it, causing him to immediately put a stop to his frivolities and begin mouthfucking her. She shook her head violently without removing her lips. This meant she wanted to suck it on her own for a time, that she didn't want him to mouthfuck her just yet. He stopped his frantic hip motion, but the look in his eyes was the equal to any look of lust she had ever known, had she been able to see it.

She sucked him for only a minute and then removing her lips, she fell back on the carpet, her legs spread wide. "Now, Tommy baby, get on and feed me the old prick." He grinned in an almost wicked manner and dropped to his knees in between her legs, his cock standing straight and stiff. "Want the old cock up your cunt, eh, baby?" She half closed her eyes. "Yes, Tommy. Stick it into me and give me a nice spray job. My cunt is thirsty for your milk, baby."

He lay down on her quickly and made the insertion. This was one young boy who didn't need to be guided by the female - he knew what he was doing and she was fully aware that he did. Tommy was such a comfort, she often thought. Whenever Grace needed cock he was always there with his prick dripping, ready to plunge the wild-looking tool into her expertly. Grace didn't know what she would have done without the boy. He was really quite necessary, though of course, it wouldn't pay to call his attention to that too much. He might become difficult. If there was anything, or anyone, that Grace despised dealing with - in any field, including sex - it was the person who was difficult to deal with. Difficult people, all sorts of them, were a pain in the ass to Grace, and there had been times when she had been just that outspoken with them, particularly during periods of stress. Nice thing about Tommy - he was easy to deal with and Grace intended to keep him that way.

"Fuck me, Tommy, baby," she whispered in his ear as he plunged his cock in and out of her expertly. "Make me blow all over." "Consider it done," he grunted.

"Put your hands under my ass, Tommy," she begged him. "I like you to hold my ass when you fuck me."

Obediently and dutifully, he placed his hands under the cheeks of her ass and grasped her firmly, hurting her slightly.

Grace didn't mind being hurt a little. In fact, she liked a bit of pain when she got fucked. Somehow it made the whole deal seem more excitingly wild, and Grace loved sex to have a certain amount of wildness about it. Any other kind of sex was too tame for her blood. She didn't want to be badly hurt, however, and was cautious in this regard. She stuck religiously to young boys, the younger, the better. The youngest boy she had ever fucked had been a ten-year-old with a surprising virility that she had never forgotten - nor had she ever seen him again.

"Move your ass a little, baby," Tommy told her, his breathing coming faster all the time. "Help me blow my wad."

Just hearing him talk this way set Grace up in fine style. Almost immediately after hearing the words and obeying them by moving her hips and butt about slightly, she felt the onrush of a tremendous orgasm. Her body stiffened of its own accord as she felt her legs actually shaking. Her mouth became almost unbearably dry, there was a delightful giddiness in her head, and then the damn burst. "Oh... " she cried out. "Oh... my... God... kid! Give it to me, baby!"

But Tommy was not ready to erupt. He continued laboring over her heatedly and then another orgasm swelled from within her to a tremendous bursting, only to be followed by still a third eruption which tore through her being with delightful ferocity.

She lay panting under his wildly-pumping cock.

"Fuck me," she cried weakly, her breathing almost impossible to control now. Tommy moved quickly in her now and each time his cock rubbed the walls of her cunt as well as the little nub, she would cry out in delight. Her passionate crying outbursts pleased him. She lost count of the number of spasms she experienced and finally she had her greatest orgasm ever, just as he obliged by emptying his prick juices into her cunt with great force and heat. He continued to fuck her even after he had ceased to go off in her. It wasn't long before she experienced another spasm and began to pinch his backsides with all her finger strength. He cried out as she did this but she paid no attention, for he was also pinching her ass fiercely now, and the two of them kept on with their pinching as if at that moment it was the most important thing in the world, next to fucking.

Finally, they both went limp and simply lay there on the floor, he only half on top of her and she with one leg thrown over his naked ass. They both required a long time to recover normal breathing. Then he moved away from her and struggled to his feet to look down at her.

"Hey, you were pretty hot this time, Gracie. How come so much passion?" He looked much older than his young years, at the moment.

She closed her eyes and then slowly opened them. "I just felt that way, Tommy. You know how I am sometimes."

"You sure were the hottest ever this time - ever since I've been fucking you, baby." "You were pretty hot yourself," she said, sitting up and rubbing her tits.

"We have a lot of fun, don't we, Gracie?"

"It's always fun to fuck someone you like, Tommy." He grinned. "Yeah. You got a point there, all right."

She smiled and gestured toward his limp cock. "Your point has shrunk a bit, hasn't it?"

He glanced down at himself. "After the way you just drained me, what do you expect?"

She walked to the bar and poured two straight whiskeys and brought one glass back to him. "Here," she said. "Drink this stuff. It'll refill your tank. I'm going to need to do a blow-job maybe later on."

"What else do you ever think about?" he wanted to know impishly.

"Nothing. Just sucking and fucking. The hell with anything else."

They sipped their drinks, both of them shuddering slightly as the whiskey burned its way to their stomachs. "Strong stuff," he muttered. "Enough to rot your tongue out." "That's good whiskey," she told him sharply. "Don't knock it. It's free." "So is my cock," he shot back.

She relaxed and smiled at him. "Sorry. Didn't mean to sound nasty. It's just that I'm so confounded sexy tonight."

He put his glass down and went to the sofa and lay flat on his back. Crooking his finger at her he said, "All right. I know what you want. Come and get it. I can see the lust in your eyes, Grade."

She sighed and went to him and dropped to her knees. Bending her head, she kissed his wonderful tummy as she had done previously and then took his limp cock between her wet lips. She sucked on it, her passion returning rapidly. Apparently his emotions also rose, for his prick became quickly larger and longer. Finally, it reached full size and she stopped sucking long enough to look into his eyes. "Go off in me, baby," she said thickly. "Fuck my mouth like you never fucked anything in your life. I need it so very badly tonight."

"Sure," he said, the usual grin disappearing from his young face.

As she bent to go down on him in earnest, he grabbed her and threw her to the floor with himself on top of her, his young cock pumping wildly in and out of her already aching mouth. Grace closed her eyes and lay back, pretending in her mind that her mouth was her cunt and that she was being fucked. She loved to play this little game but it was seldom she could induce him to do this particular thing to her. Usually she had to fuck him first, although it was true he had shown signs of wanting to mouthfuck her earlier. She had not permitted him to do it then because she was well aware from past experience that she would be risking his ability to drain his cock for several days. Tommy was a most peculiar boy in some ways, and this was one of his peculiarities.

This evening appeared to be one of those prolific evenings.

As he continued to fuck her in the mouth for minute after minute, she knew for certain that this, indeed, was one of his good nights, that he would go off in her hot body many more times before losing his desires.

Ah, she was a lucky woman.

She had a young cock to please her.

How very nice and how very, very wonderful!

Chapter TEN

As we have noted throughout, there are many types of older women who are greatly excited by making love to young boys, and while each case history, each woman, was different, each also possessed certain similar attributes. All of the women we have studied were passionate, some of them excessively so. Some were unmarried, some widowed, some divorced. All were extraordinary. They were not run-of-the-mill females. The average woman has no compulsion to fuck with young boys. This requires a special need and drive - a sexual demand for youthful cock. The subjects of our case histories were unique - they were all in their thirties, very sexually aware, and very determined to fulfill their passionate needs in their own peculiar manner. The women we have studied are not isolated cases. None of them required mental attention stemming from their compulsive actions. They sought only sexual fulfillment, without harming anyone, and they achieved their goal by relying on youthful boys as their love partners. These women were not frustrated, hurt, angry or openly rebellious about their situations. They were fulfilled, satisfied, by the strength of the youths who serviced their needs.

For a number of years Helen Garlin had endured her husband's indifference, had contented herself, or tried to, with spending his money almost as fast as he made it. There seemed to be no other pleasures in her life. And then she met Jack - a sixteen-year-old stud who sold his sexual services to older women, married or unmarried. She heard about him through another woman, secured his phone number and one weekend when her husband was out of town on business, she called him up and told him bluntly that she wanted to hire him. He was very careful about discussing the matter over the phone, but told her, after ascertaining her address, that he would call on her that same evening about nine o'clock. He advised her to have sufficient cash available, though he failed to point out exactly what amount he would require. Before she could ask, he had hung up.

Helen Garlin spent the remainder of the day in making herself appear as sexually attractive as she possibly could. Helen was not at all an unattractive woman. She was thirty-six, but seemed to look younger. Her figure was good, there was no fat on her frame, no wrinkles in her face or hands. One could think that Helen Garlin would be the last female in the world to need to hire a stud in order to please herself. Even as nine o'clock approached, she was not quite certain if she intended to go through with the arrangement. It was not until the door chimes startled her and she had gone to the door to open it and saw the handsome, young - very young - man standing there, that she made up her mind.

She instantly made up her mind that she was going through with her earlier plans. One look at the sexy young man and Helen Garlin was hooked. She let him in wordlessly, noting that he was dressed most fashionably. He smiled, revealing even, white teeth, and stepped past her as she closed and locked the door. It was only then that she thought to ask his name.

He was the picture of ease, the way he stood there looking at her, not too boldly, certainly not shyly, but with a strong sexiness that brought a tingling sensation to her crotch. "I'm Jack," he said simply. "I never tell my last name, if you don't mind." Helen managed to smile at him, though her heart was hammering so hard she found it difficult to smile. She ran her tongue over her dry lips.

"My name is Helen," she told him, wondering if it was wise to give a stud her name.

"Don't worry," he said. "I never discuss my clients with anyone."

Helen took a deep breath and let the air out quickly. "Thank you. I would appreciate if you... did that." She had forgotten what she was about to say.

"Please try to relax, Helen. You'll find it is not really all that traumatic."

She cleared her throat, knowing she had to say something back to him. "I hate to ask... but how much do your services... " She stopped and looked at him, hoping he would supply the answer to her uncompleted query.

He mentioned a figure that did not seem unreasonable, though she had no certain way of knowing whether it was or not.

"Do you - er - stay with... a... girl... until she is... " For the life of her she could not get the proper words to come out of her mouth.

"If necessary, I'll remain with you all night... until you are satisfied, Helen. If I may say so, I don't have many complaints."

"Would you stay all night with me?" she blurted.

"Yes. The figure is slightly higher for this. I hope you don't mind. I make my living... " "I understand," she said quickly, interrupting him because she didn't want to discuss money any further.

He glanced about the room. "Your husband?" he inquired without specifying what he meant.

She knew what he was asking. "He's out of town for the weekend."

He nodded. "That's good. Husbands sometimes don't like people like me." He smiled easily as he spoke.

"I've heard that... some husbands... well, you know," she said lamely.

"True," he said as if he understood what she was trying to say. "I've been hired... I beg your pardon... engaged by a few husbands to... take their place... while they are out of town. It seems to work quite well, usually." "Really?" Helen found this hard to believe.

He just continued to smile at her.

"Shall we have a drink together, Jack?"

"I don't drink very much. I'm sure you understand why."

She nodded. "Very well. You don't mind if I have one, do you, before... before... " She found she could not finish this sentence, either.

"Before we get down to business?" he asked. "Is that what you mean?"

She actually blushed. It felt strange, blushing in front of a strange young man who seemed so at ease, while she, a much older person, was anything, but at ease. Turning her face away, she walked to the bar and poured herself a drink, taking note of the way her fingers were trembling. Damn it! Why did she have to appear to be such a clod? She knew she wasn't such a dunce, but she was certainly giving him the impression that she was. A drink would help, perhaps. Maybe two drinks would help more. She had two drinks, her back turned to him during the few moments it required her to toss them down. Finally, she turned around and smiled at him, feeling much better about things than before. The drinks had worked instant wonders for her.

"Are you ready to go to bed?" she asked.

He smiled. "Anytime. Would you care to undress in front of me, or would you like me to disrobe in front of you?"

He speaks quite well for a boy, she thought. "I'd like you to undress first," she said. "Do you mind if I watch you do it?" "Not at all," he said and coughed.

"Oh... I'm sorry... I'll get the money for you right now." She had it all ready in her purse and it was the work of but a moment or two to get it and hand it to him. She didn't quite meet his gaze when she paid him. She supposed later that he stuffed the bills in his wallet, but she did not actually see him do this.

"Now," he said amiably. "If you'll just sit on the sofa there, I'll pull off my clothing." He glanced about quickly.

"The shades are all drawn," she told him quickly. "No one can see into the house." He smiled at her. "Thank you," he said, sounding more like a mature man, somehow, than a mere boy. More than likely his considerable poise came from having been with so many women. "I'll just remove my shirt first." Actually, he had to take off his jacket first. Then his shirt. He was not wearing anything under the shirt and she stared at his youthful, but thoroughly masculine chest for what seemed to be a long time. He then removed his shoes and socks and stripped down his pants. Standing in front of her in only his briefs, he looked at her inquisitively as if waiting for her to say something.

"You have a nice body," she heard herself say. Helen's thighs had become incredibly moist suddenly. "Very nice."

He came closer to her and stood with his hands on his hips. "Do you wish to feel it before I continue?" he asked softly.

Her hands were shaking again, damn it. Nevertheless, she was not going to refrain from touching his cock, especially since he had asked her if she wanted to do so. She reached out her hands, then pulled one back in slight confusion. Then she carefully felt his cock through the cloth of his briefs. "That's good," he told her. "It helps to break the ice."

Good grief, he's talking to me as if I were a complete jackass, she thought. "It's not necessary to break the ice, boy," she said coolly. "I broke the ice for myself quite some time ago."

He just smiled at her.

Helen made up her mind to be just as much at ease as he was, if it killed her. Casually, or at least in a manner she thought was casual, she kicked off her shoes, pulled down her pantyhose, removing them completely. Off came her blouse and then her skirt. She placed them over the rear of the sofa. Now, she unhooked her bra, giving him a seductive look as she did so. She kept her tits partially covered with her hands and arms and then... she pulled down her panties.

"Take your briefs off," she told him. "I'm ready now."

He pushed his briefs down his legs and she looked at his slim, long cock. His cock had a very dark look to it, much darker than the rest of his skin, and for some crazy reason this caused her to breathe much faster. She knew she had to say something - anything.

"It's cute," she said, meaning it's terrific, but not quite willing to compliment him that much.

"Cute and long," he said, smiling. "Ten inches, to be exact."

"Yes," she agreed. "That's quite a long one. It doesn't seem to be ten inches long. Are you sure?"

He rubbed his prick a few times and it grew before her eyes. "Now it is, or soon will be. It's not all the way up yet, Helen."

Helen Garlin was terribly excited now. She wanted him to get on top of her and... fuck her as roughly as he knew how. Did she dare to ask him? She did. "Get on top," she said, her voice trembling. "I want your ten inches in me." Her voice actually broke, but she was so agitated now she didn't care. When he didn't immediately crawl on top of her she said, "Didn't you hear me, Jack? I said get on top of me. I want your cock in me."

"Will you please me, Helen?" he asked.

She looked up at him dumbfounded. "What did you say?" she asked.

He smiled down at her. "I asked you if you would do something to please me."

"I guess so. What?"

"Will you, when you ask for it - will you - er - say the four-letter words?"

Helen swallowed. "Why?"

"It's something I like to hear from my clients before I climb on top. You don't have to say it that way. It's just that it helps me, later."

"You mean you want me to beg you to... do it to me? Is that what you mean?" "Well... just ask me, but use the word."

Helen swallowed again. "Fuck... me... Jack. Please... fuck me... I need to be fucked by a young boy... terribly." She was on the verge of tears now and this, she felt, might be a good thing - it might relax her. Tears often did this for her.

"That's the way I like to hear a lady talk," he said softly. "I like the word 'fuck.' " He smiled and leaning over kissed her cheek tenderly. "Now, my dear lady, get your cunt ready. My ten inches are coming in. Stay flat on your back for here comes Jack."

Why, he's a poet, she thought. He's an artist. He's just wonderful, this kid.

She had no more time to think about this, for ten inches of hard cock had been thrust into her wet cunt and she was then taken completely and beautifully out of this world for a very long, gratifying time.

THE END