In previous works in this series where we have studied the seduction of the young and seemingly innocent, the reader may have observed that in many cases, the young victim has been so willing that one sees an actual eagerness, a blurring of the fine line of demarcation between seducer and seduced.
Indeed, a blurring of that line does exist, and in this work, I propose to explore that blurred area. In doing so, I wish to point out here and now that I do not promise the reader clearly defined blacks and white, rights and wrongs, good guys and bad guys.
Rather, following the old French adage that, "in the dark, all cats are gray," I propose to explore this gray area. In doing so, I shall strive, as usual, not to justify the various sexual acts which may be either frowned on or condemned by our society, but rather to make clear that a gray area does really exist, that in this vague area, as is general in human behavior, there are few clear blacks and whites, and more shades of gray than one would, advisedly, shake a scolding finger at.
I recall, clearly, and have checked my files to ensure accuracy, a discussion with a woman in her mid-forties, who has kept a careful record of her amatory adventures, and who records a total of forty-eight seductions of previously innocent boys.
In all but a very few cases, she informed me, while she appeared to take the initiative in the seduction, her victims had indicated to her their eagerness to be seduced.
When I asked her to explain this point, she told me that when she was in her early thirties, she, for the first time, seduced a young boy. Filled with guilt, he later told all and she left town just in time to avoid arrest on a charge of corrupting the morals of a juvenile.
Having enjoyed the sexual experience, but not the threat of imprisonment, she explained, she set out to perfect a formula that would permit her to enjoy the pleasure without risking the penalty involved.
In time, she worked out what a horseplayer would call a form chart. It told her what to look for in boys who, more than merely being willing to be seduced, were actually begging for it. These, she was able to conclude, were the safe ones, the boys who were looking for sexual adventure; who, having found it, were not likely to blow the whistle on the woman who met their need.
But boys have not cornered the market in this area. While the male is, traditionally, supposed to be the sexual aggressor, there are mountains of evidence to support the argument that this is entirely a myth and that the female, with all her delightful cunning, permits the myth to exist because it pleases her.
For evidence, walk by any suburban high school at letting out time. Observe closely and then decide who is the aggressor, who the innocent.
Talk to male school teachers who teach mixed classes and ask them about panting young virgins who play games that would bring a blush to the face of many a mature woman.
It is not by submission that these unsure adolescents are consciously on the make. Far from it. Rather, I submit, they are victims of forces within their bodies which they do not understand. Not understanding them, they are not able to resist them, and so, they do things which, given the right circumstance of time and place, leave them in the position of having been seduced.
And yet, were they or did they?
I realize that it would be unfair of me to ask the reader to give answers at this point. Rather, I would suggest that after having read the case histories which follow, the reader return to this section and ask himself the question that is vital to this work.
Who seduced whom?
And having said that, I am reminded of a limerick which perhaps does not fit perfectly here, but which, since I happen to appreciate this form of humor, I shall inflict upon the reader.
A daring young queer from Khartoum
Took a lesbian up to his room.
And then all through the night, They did argue and fight
About who would do what, and to whom.
To those readers who remain with me to this point, I would suggest a concentration of attention to the case histories of young seducers to see, in fact, who is doing what and to whom.
CASE HISTORY 1
Anton developed an interest in the female body at the age of six. His mother, usually careful about keeping her bedroom door closed when dressing or undressing, slipped once, leaving it a little ajar.
Seeing the open door, Anton approached quietly and saw her standing with her back to him, pulling a slip over her head. His eyes focused on her bottom which was only partially covered by sheer, white nylon panties.
He saw portions of the big buttocks and through the sheer fabric, saw the shadowy cleavage. And then the slip fell into place and he decided to get away now that the show was over and he had not been caught.
From that moment, the female buttocks became a very important thing in his young life. He would stare at women who wore tight pants and try to strip away the fabric with his eyes.
When he reached puberty and the miracle of masturbation was granted him, ; is masturbatory fantasies always involved a woman with big buttocks. Usually he would be watching her stand with her back to him, bending a little from the waist as she pushed them down to display the big, white cheeks.
At the point of ejaculation, he was so close to her that he could feel the big cheeks with his hands, they were soft and smooth as silk.
His mother, a big woman, did not normally wear slacks, but when they planned to spend a couple of weeks at a rented cottage, she bought a pair. The first time she wore them, Anton told her how good she looked in slacks; a little later, when he saw her bending, he was unable to resist the urge to give her a light smack on the bottom.
The woman turned angrily and scolded him at greater length and with greater severity than the act justified. She made such a fuss about it that he decided there must really be something special about the female behind. It served to sharpen his desire to see and touch one.
When she finally stopped scolding him and he was in his room alone, Anton wondered at the firmness he had felt when he patted her bottom. He had expected that a mound of flesh that big would be softer. He was a little dismayed, but not enough to spoil the intensified urge to see and feel the bottom of a woman.
At that age, it is more usual for a boy to experience a more or less strong desire to see the vulva of the female if he has not previously seen one, but while his desire for the female bottom, while not the commonest thing in boys of that age, was not unique either.
The penchant for being a "breast man."
"ass man," or "Leg man," can and frequently is formed early in life, even before puberty, and can remain forever.
During that summer at the cottage Anton saw many women in tight slacks and in bathing suits which, especially when wet, displayed mature bottoms beautifully.
Girls didn't interest him nearly as much since their bottoms were smaller, not much bigger than his own. He was impressed by bigness in his desire to get to the bottom of female things.
For more than a year, Anton dreamed of the day when he would see and touch a nice big, bare behind, and, with his dream and his masturbation, he survived, as boys tend to do, whatever their dream or the intensity of it.
He was almost fourteen when, one Saturday, he went to visit a chum. On arrival, the boy's mother informed him that his friend had gone to a movie. She invited him in and gave him a soft drink.
Anton liked the woman, a big woman like his mother, but much more pleasant. He especially liked her when she wore tight pants as she was doing that day. Anton knew she had caught him staring a few times as she moved around the kitchen, but she only smiled and didn't seem to mind.
"Anton," she said with a grin and a twinkle in her eye when she caught him staring again, "I do believe you're a ass man."
When he blushed at her words, she laughed and assured him that lots of men were like that and that there was nothing wrong with it.
When he finished his drink, Anton guessed he should leave, but didn't want to. Since the woman didn't seem to mind his staying, he stayed.
"Now don't you smack me," she giggled as she bent to put something into the oven, her big buttocks straining the fabric of her tight pants.
Her words triggered a recollection of the time he had smacked his mother's bottom. The giggle with which she had spoken them told him she wouldn't really mind if he did, so, his hand trembling, he gave her a light smack and left his hand there for a second.
"Oh you are a ass man for sure," she laughed as she straightened up, still smiling. "Maybe I should put you across my lap and spank yours."
"I wouldn't mind if you'd let me spank you," he heard himself say with feeling, and blushed furiously, wishing he could recall the words.
Spotting his intensity, the woman began talking to him in a more serious, but still warm tone, and before long she had lured him into telling her of his secret longing to see and to feel a woman's buttocks.
"And you like mine because it's so big, is that it?" she asked, a warm smile lighting her face.
"Oh yes," he responded passionately, "I'd give anything to see it.
"Have you never seen a woman's bare ass, Anton?" she went on, knowing how aroused the boy had become and feeling it being communicated to her.
Her husband often joked about what he termed her fat ass, and showed no interest in it at all. In fact, he showed very little sexual interest in her at best.
"No." Then, sensing that she was an ally whom he could trust, he told of the time he had peeped and saw his mother in her panties. "Of course," he added, "it's different when it's your mother, you know."
"Sure, Anton, I understand. Now for instance, if you were to see me in just my panties it would be a little more exciting, I suppose."
"A little? Holy mackerel."
"Anton," she said, slipping an arm around his waist, "I like you so much I can't see you suffer like this, going on dreaming about seeing a big, bare ass and never seeing it. Come to my bedroom with me."
She kept her arm around him as they walked and she felt his body shivering with arousal. But the boy was not alone in that state. In that moment, the woman decided that she was going to take him all the way and seduce him.
In her imagination, she pictured the slim boy lying on her big naked belly, fumbling to insert a hard little penis into her vagina. She doubted that his penis would provide any real sexual satisfaction for her, but then told herself that her husband, with his bigger one, didn't either and at least she would have the pleasure of seeing the boy's wild excitement.
Stopping in the bedroom, she stood close to the boy and asked for his hands. Taking them in both of hers, she guided them to the backs of her thighs and told the boy to feel his way up, as high as he liked.
"Oh man, this is nice," he panted as he felt the backs of her thighs, his hands working upward. "Can I really go all the way?"
"All the way up, Anton," she urged him, warmly. "Give my big bun a nice rubbing with both hands. I'll bet you have a hard-on," she went on as her right hand moved to the front of his pants to feel it, what she found confirming her statement.
Anton's hands reached the bottom slopes of her behind where the fabric clung like a second skin. A little groan of lust escaped from his throat as his hands kept moving. The woman added to his arousal by sliding the zipper of his fly all the way down and reaching inside to fondle his very hard young penis. It was a little bigger than she expected.
His fingertips meeting at the cleavage of her buttocks, the boy went on fondling the big, soft hills fervently. As she put an arm around his waist, she pulled him close in an exciting, erotic embrace.
"Would you like to take my pants down, Anton?" she asked in a hot, husky whisper.
"Oh yes," he cried, his body jerking against her as fingers of hot passion seemed to rake him and leave him weak, his throat dry.
"Sit on the edge of my bed, Anton and I'll stand right between your legs," she went on.
The boy was trembling so by then that she held his arm and guided him into a sitting position. Turning so that the side fastener of her slacks faced him, she told him to open her pants.
"You'll be able to see a little of my panties when you slide the zipper down, Anton. Of course you'll see a lot more of them when you peel my pants down for me."
"It's hard, isn't it, Anton?" she asked as the boy fought the fastener.
"Yes."
"So is the fastening of my pants," she teased with a smile.
And then the pants were opened and he slowly pulled the zipper down, the pants opening to display lemon yellow nylon panties.
"Careful now, Anton," she urged as the zipper reached the bottom of the track, "make sure you don't take my panties down with them. I may let you do that later, if you're a very good boy."
When Anton began to tug the pants down, she held the waistband of her panties to keep them in place. Just one unveiling at a time would be more exciting, she thought.
Anton really had to work to fight the tight pants down over the big bulge of her behind, but the nylon of her panties helped them slip and besides he loved the work involved.
While the boy panted and perspired, the woman kept wriggling her behind, not knowing whether it helped or hindered him in his task, but doing so anyway because she felt like it.
As he pushed the pants over the summit of her behind, the boy tried to tell her how excited and happy he was but didn't have much luck with finding words. Still, she more than got the message.
The pants pushed easily down the lower slope and then they were out of the way and, only partially covered by the skimpy, sheer, yellow nylon panties, there was that big beautiful behind of which he had dreamed so often.
Impulsively, he threw his arms around her and rubbed his face all over the big expanse of nylon and skin. One hand came into play to rub as his face rubbed while she squirmed with lust.
While Anton was so busy below, she hurriedly opened her blouse and took it off. She regretted that she wasn't wearing her best bra, but decided the boy would be more than impressed anyway.
When he looked up at the big bottom surface of her bulging bra, he gave another loud gasp. When she gave him a warm smile, he moved his hands up to rub the big cups and move his hands higher to the white skin which escaped above and between.
"I guess you're not just a ass man, Anton," she observed, still smiling.
"I guess I'm a ... a ... a everything man. You're so big and beautiful."
"Since you say such nice things, Anton," she told him, "I'm going to let you take the rest of my clothes off so you can see me bare naked. But first, you strip naked for me."
Anton paused and blinked, then began undressing and did not stop until only his socks remained. When she held her arms out, he came into them and she kissed him with such passion that his knees sagged.
"You may take my bra off now if you wish, dear," she told him. "Then, after you've played with my breasts for a while, we'll make my panties the main event and you may take them right off and make me bare naked. Imagine having a big, bare naked woman all to yourself."
Although he tried to hurry, it took a long time for his trembling, inexperienced fingers to slip the five hooks which fastened her bra. Eventually he made it, the bra flew open and, as she held her arms out, he pushed it off and saw it fall to the floor.
She turned slowly and he watched the big breasts as they bounced and swayed, the tips big and exciting. His hands went to them eagerly and he forgot about the big behind as he fondled and rubbed them all over.
She showed him how to use a finger and thumb to make the nipple hard and erect, and after he had done that, she showed him how he could achieve the same effect with his mouth.
Anton began sucking the nipple and wondered if he would get milk out of it and what it would taste like. He was just as pleased when he discovered that there was no milk, the fondling and sucking was thrilling enough.
"Are titties what you thought they'd be?" she asked when he came up for air, his mouth still open, her breast shining wetly.
"I guess I don't know what I thought they were like. Boy they're really something."
"Nicer than my ass?"
"Oh no. I don't think anything could be nicer than that."
"Then maybe you should make sure. I guess the only way to find out is to take my panties off. Would you like to do that now?"
When he assured her he would, she got off the bed and stood close to it, her panty clad behind just inches from his perspiring face.
"Feel me up a little first, if you like," she told him. "Most men like to play with a woman through her panties before they take them down."
He accepted the invitation with eagerness and soon had both his hands in action. When she parted her legs, Anton saw the gesture as an invitation to explore the rest of her panties. The nylon was so warm in her crotch that it stunned him. As he continued to stroke there with one hand, he felt moisture.
"Do you need to pee?" he asked.
Trying to keep from laughing, she explained that when a woman gets sexually excited she produces moisture from her vagina. The explanation added to his excitement and wild delight while his hand between her big thighs added to the moisture content of her panties.
"Take them down nice and slow now, Anton," she told him and trembled as he began to do so.
It had been many years since a man had taken her panties down, but she didn't recall that act ever having thrilled her as it did when the boy did it. Young men had been aroused by her body, but there had never been the overpowering excitement the boy was obviously experiencing.
As he pushed her panties down over the big slopes of her behind, she heard strange sounds and had to look at his face to be sure he wasn't crying. He wasn't.
Although he began the unveiling slowly, when her buttocks became half bared, he jerked the panties down quickly and gave an even louder cry at the sight of the big, smooth cheeks.
"That's the way, Anton," she urged, "take them right off and we'll get on the bed and see what a ass man can do with my big one."
As she stepped out of her panties, Anton looked up and had a partial view of her crotch. Soon, he knew, he would have a much closer look.
Getting onto the bed, the woman lay face down and told Anton to help himself. He did so, wild with lust as his dream came true as it does to so few boys of his tender years.
When, in the course of playing with her buttocks, Anton gave her a little spank, she sighed and raised her bottom as though inviting him to do it again.
"Ooh, that feels nice," she sighed when he gave her a second spank. As a result, he went on spanking both big cheeks until there was a thrilling pink flush over the pure white of her skin.
The impromptu spanking ended only when, with her head still down, she rose to her knees, big buttocks arching, knees pushing wide apart.
"Want to get under and take a look, Anton?" she asked, her voice crackling with passion.
The boy was quick to do so and was soon looking up into the crotch, directly above his face. At her warm invitation to do so, he felt his way up her satiny smooth inner thighs, then began feeling her warm, moist vulva.
Her groans frightened him at first, but then he knew that it was only passion causing them and that he was not hurting her as he had feared. Gaining confidence from that, he played more avidly in her crotch, probing the hot depth with his fingers and keeping her big bottom in motion.
"Oh God, Anton," she cried out, throwing herself down on her back, her big legs wide apart, "come and give it to me before I go crazy."
Anton had heard about sexual intercourse, but couldn't believe she really meant that. Using words she was sure he could understand, she made it startlingly clear that she did indeed.
"Oh, Anton," she panted as he got atop her and began fumbling in her crotch, "I'm going to go off as soon as you stick that hard little beauty into me."
Once he found the moist entry, he pushed the full length of his penis into her at once and began stroking fast. She kept her promise by climaxing almost at once, crushing him with her arms and legs and putting a stop to his stroking.
As the spasms passed, she released her crushing hold on him, he stroked a few more times, then, groaning loudly, he ejaculated, his body jerking violently in the warm embrace of her big arms and legs.
It was a simple matter for the woman to send her son on various errands after school so that Anton could come to her for more sex. He was still a frequent visitor right up to the time he left for college.
With the training the woman had given him, and with the confidence it inspired in him, he became a very big man on campus. Although he was not the handsomest or most athletic youth around the place, he was able to make out with young beauties whom even the college heroes couldn't land.
But for all the willowy young beauties available, he tended to go for the fleshier ones, the young beauties who offered big, firm bottoms.
Once a girl had been so thoroughly kissed on and between her buttocks and had felt his tongue lick a film of moisture over the entire area, she was always eager for more when Anton called on her for another date.
His early experience with the woman seems to have done him no harm at all, and he is now very happily married to an attractive young woman who wonders how, being much bigger than is fashionable these days, she was lucky enough to land a catch such as Anton.
Anton laughingly tells of one evening when they were undressing for bed and she looked over her shoulder into the mirror above the dresser, patted her buttocks lovingly and said with a twinkle in her voice as well as in her eyes, "I guess I owe it all to you, you big beauties,"
When she joined him in bed, he made a point of confirming that opinion for her. She knows about the woman to whom she also owes a lot, and silently thanks her secret benefactress.
Looking back over this case, we see that in at least the technical sense, she did seduce him. And yet, when a boy was as ready and eager to be seduced as Anton was, when his stares and arousal at the sight of her were so obvious, the line between seducer and seduced becomes a vague blur.
CASE HISTORY 2
At fifteen, Clara was not the best looking girl in school, but she was reasonably attractive and rather well-developed for her age. Still, she felt that the real hot stares from the boys were reserved for the girls who were not only better looking, but better dressed as well.
She was one of four children of a lower income group family and there never seemed to be enough money to go around.
Whenever possible, she took baby sitting assignments, but there were not too many of those in the district where she lived.
When she reached the age of sixteen and could legally leave school, she announced to her parents that she was going to do that and get a job. When she agreed to pay board and thereby aid the family finances, they agreed.
As they explained it, "a girl doesn't really need an education."
Unfortunately one still find this archaic attitude in twentieth-century North America.
Jobs turned out to be less plentiful than she expected, but she eventually found one as a counter girl at an almost greasy spoon type restaurant in the industrial district in which she lived.
She learned that the place did a booming business all day, then closed shortly after six in the evening.
The man who operated the restaurant, a fast-talking, slightly pudgy man in his late forties, was uncertain about hiring a girl without experience, but finally agreed, telling her that her good looks were good for business and reminding her to smile and be friendly and pleasant to all the customers, especially the males.
The flattery pleased her, and when she tried on the uniform the man gave her, she found that it too flattered her, in a different way.
It was plain white jersey, and an older waitress told her not to wear a slip under it.
"Guys," she explained philosophically, "Like to see that a chick with a good figure hasn't got a slip on. They can't see through, but this jersey clings and lets them see the outline of your bra and panties, especially when you bend. Put a guy in the right mood that way and you collect bigger tips."
It seemed like sound business advice, so Clara accepted it with thanks. On her first day on the job, she saw the male eyes moving with her and felt delighted, more beautiful and exciting to males than she had ever considered herself before.
But it wasn't long before Clara discovered that it was not only the customers who were giving her the eye. Her employer, a man named Duncan, often looked her over with a light in his eyes that told her he was thinking of more than just looking.
"You got many boy friends?" he asked her one afternoon during the pre-dinner lull.
"No," she replied truthfully, "by the time I finish here and get cleaned up I'm too pooped. It takes a couple of hours before I feel like doing anything, and by then it's too late."
"It's never too late for some things," he told her with a wink that caused her to blush a little.
The first time Clara really teased him, it happened by accident.
She was crouched behind the counter, rearranging trays of coffee cream, when she felt she was being stared at. She turned to see Duncan standing beside her, staring down intently.
Following the direction of his gaze, she saw that one of the buttons of her uniform had come open and, since she wore no slip, she could see a generous portion of upper thigh and just a bit of her black nylon panties.
Turning, she went on with the job, pretending not to have noticed. The view cut off, the man went back to work. When he sat behind the cash register, she noticed that he kept an arm lying across his thighs. The position did not look comfortable and was not a normal one for him.
With a little surge of excitement, she guessed that he had gotten an erection from looking at her thighs and panties.
Erection was something Clara knew about but had not seen. It made her feel mature and seductive to think that she could do that to a mature man.
After that, Clara began to make a hobby of exciting her employer with little shows of various portions of her body and thighs. She always managed, at the right moment, to have a button slip unfastened, so sit carelessly or to squat behind the counter with her knees apart for a few seconds.
Each time she played her little game with the man, she had visions of his big penis going stiff inside his pants and straining to get out as the man burned with desire for her beautiful, young body.
Clara had met his wife, a rather dumpy looking woman with too much fat and a bad voice. She wondered whether when Duncan's wife undressed at night he looked at her flabby figure and thought about the young beauty at the restaurant.
Not long after she had begun playing her teasing games with the man, Duncan announced that he was giving her a raise and, that he wanted her to stay each evening to help him with the cash and closing up of the restaurant.
She had been making a nice income off her tips, but never having had enough money, she was greedy to get all she could and was delighted with the new arrangement. Only later did she realize that being alone in the restaurant with Duncan, she would have an opportunity to do more teasing.
The thought that she could perhaps tease him to the point where he would lose control and rape her didn't occur to the girl, nor did she give any thought to the possibility that she might forget when to stop.
He had commenced brushing against her behind the counter, and once, when he did so, she was positive she felt his erect penis against her buttocks.
The first evening she worked with him, Duncan touched her hip once and although he made it appear to be an accident, she could see how nervous he was and it thrilled her.
During the next few evenings, she continued to tease Duncan and he responded by managing, more and more often, to accidentally bump or brush against her, usually letting her know that he had an erection.
The following Saturday, Duncan asked her if she would come in for a couple of hours the next day to give him some feminine opinions on painting and redecoration to "give the joint some class."
Dressed in her Sunday best, she arrived at the restaurant Sunday afternoon and found it open, Duncan sitting on a bar stool waiting for her. She gave him her opinions when he asked for them and was pleased that he had such respect for her taste.
Later, Duncan suggested that since they'd had to come to the restaurant on Sunday, they should at least enjoy a little picnic. He told her he'd come in early and fixed up a few things.
The few things consisted of a chilled bottle of champagne and a plate of sliced chicken sandwiches. She saw too that the vinyl covered couch that was kept just inside the entrance had been moved into the kitchen. He put the bottle and plate on a low table near the couch, got glasses, and they sat after he opened the bottle.
As they sat on the couch, chatting, Clara saw him looking at her legs. The next time she reached for a sandwich, she allowed the hem of her dress to ride up a little and give him more to see. She felt relaxed, excited by the fact of the champagne rather than the alcoholic effects of it, and teasing him seemed even more fun than usual.
"Uh uh, naughty," she said with a smile when he put a hand on her thigh, just below the top of her nylon, but made no move to push it away, not even when he squeezed the firm thigh a little.
"A little touch on the leg won't hurt," he told her, giving her another squeeze.
"Well, maybe not," she agreed, smiling, "but the top of my nylon is the limit."
"Then I may as well go to the limit," he said as his hand moved up until the leading edge of it touched her silken skin. He stopped there without being told.
"You sure know how to tease a guy, Clara."
"Who, me?" she asked in pretended innocence.
"Yeah, you," he told her, rubbing the nylon sheathed thigh and delighting her with his touch. "You know what you do to me when you let me get a glimpse of what you got under your skirt."
"Tell me what I do, Dune?" she asked.
"Are you really a virgin?"
"Yes," she admitted as though ashamed of the fact since it made her feel less womanly.
"Give me your hand and I'll show you what happens when I see those thighs of yours or brush against your nice fanny."
Nervously, she gave him her hand and he brought it to his lap. She closed her hand around the form of his big, stiff penis.
"You mean just a little girl like me can do that to you?" she asked, her voice quavering a little in her excitement.
"You're no little girl, Clara baby, you've got what it takes to be a real woman. Have you ever seen a guy's thing when it's stiff?"
"No."
"Ever wondered what it looks like."
"I guess. I've heard girls talk about it."
"How'd you like to look at mine? Chicks tell me I've got a good one."
"I ... I'm afraid, Dune," she replied, truthfully, as she realized things had gone farther than she'd planned.
"Look, baby, you're a beauty and I like you. I give you my word, I'd never do anything to you against your will. You know you can trust me, Clara. Here, take a look."
While she sat trembling beside him, he opened his fly and withdrew his erect penis, the foreskin pulled well back, the blood-filled head swollen.
"It's so big," she gasped.
"You made it that way, Clara. You do it a dozen times a day." As he spoke, he guided her hand to it and while she was reluctant, she did not resist, even when he wrapped her hand around it.
"My God, Dune," she said, breathing heavily, "can all that really fit into a woman?"
"You bet it can, baby and it can make her feel great to have that much bone sliding in and out of her nice wet pussy. How come you've never gone all the way with a boy? I'll bet lots of them want it."
"I don't know. Some of them got me pretty worked up, but I'm scared of getting knocked up."
"Yeah, that's the risk you run with boys. Men know a lot more, they're safer and better. A man knows how to make sure a girl gets her rocks off too."
While he talked, his arm went around her waist and drew her closer, a big hand closing over her right breast.
"Oh baby, you got real beauties. They're big and hard. Feel how this makes my tool jump in your hand."
As his hand squeezed the firm young breast, Clara felt the stiff arm of muscle jerk strongly as though with a life of its own.
"Just think of it jerking in your pussy like that," he whispered. "That's when the gal's legs really fly up in the air and her ass squirms on the bed while she cries for more. You got some big thrills coming one of these days, Clara baby. I sure envy the guy who gets there first."
"Dune," she said trembling, "you won't force me, will you? I'm frightened."
"I swear to you, baby, I'm not that kind of a guy. If you ever decide to give it to me, I'll be glad to take it, but I won't even try to talk you into it. You'll know when you're ready. Now let's relax and have some fun, huh?"
Convinced that he was sincere, Clara found that she was able to smile again as he poured more champagne.
"I bet you didn't expect you'd be spending this afternoon drinking champagne and holding a stiff dork in your hand."
"I sure didn't," she agreed. "Funny, at first the sight of it frightened me, but now it doesn't. I guess it's because I trust you now."
"You can keep on trusting me too, because
I'm that kind of a guy. In fact, we could have a real fun picnic, now that you're not afraid of me. How about it?"
"Why not?" Clara said, laughing and squeezing his penis.
"Okay, Clara, let's, but you have to do something. So far I've done it all."
"What would you like me to do?"
"Well, Clara, you look great in that dress, but I'll bet you'd look greater out of it."
"You mean sit here in just my bra and panties? I ... I guess I'm kind of shy."
"Maybe I could help you relax by sitting around in my bare skin. I wonder how many girls your age ever sat drinking champagne with a naked man?"
Sensing that he had made it sound exciting enough to make her go for his plan, Duncan stood and stripped naked. As he did, she stared in fascination at the rest of his masculine equipment.
"Have a feel if you like, Clara," he told her as he stood proudly with his feet wide apart. "I may have a bit of a pot, but I'm real well hung."
When she reached, bending a little, to feel his hairy scrotum, he unfastened the top of her dress. Helping her to her feet, he watched, his eyes blazing with passion as she took it off and presented herself before his eyes in matching, pale blue bra and panties, the suspenders of her garter belt holding sheer nylons in a warm caress around firm, beautiful thighs.
She came into his arms easily and they shared a kiss that left them both panting. Through it, she felt his hard penis pressing against her tummy and found herself wishing that she were woman enough to tell him to put it between her legs and fill her with it.
They sat on the couch where he fondled her breasts through her bra and planted moist kisses at the top of the cleavage. She hardly protested at all when he opened her bra, and she moved her arms to help him take it off. She liked what she saw in his eyes when he stared in open-mouthed wonder at her lush breasts.
As his hands gently fondled her firm, responsive breasts, Duncan suddenly became younger and more handsome in her eyes, a dream lover, an exciting one who took one hand off a breast and replaced it with a mouth that sucked and made her panty-clad bottom squirm on the couch as he eased her down gently, his mouth still closed over the luscious breast.
So gently that she was barely aware of it in the beginning, one of his hands moved down her body until it had pressed between her thighs, pressing warmly on the narrow crotch of her panties.
"You're warm, baby, warm and sweet," he whispered as he released her breast and she saw how his tongue and mouth had erected the nipple, leaving it wet and hard.
"I love to use my mouth on a beautiful woman, Clara," he went on in the same exciting, husky whisper. "I can kiss and lick you in places that will make you think you never lived before."
She thought she heard herself ask him to stop when he began to take her panties down, but at the same time, she felt her buttocks rising from the couch to help him bare her body completely. When her panties caught in her crotch, his fingers were gentle as they moved in the warm moisture of her virginal nest to free them.
Her panties gone, Duncan lay beside her and took her into his arms in full-length embrace as they shared many exciting kisses, their bodies constantly rubbing.
While one hand fondled her magnificently formed young buttocks, he told her how beautiful they were and how he was going to cover them with kisses.
"Did you ever have your ass licked?" he asked. "I mean with a nice wet tongue, not with daddy's belt."
"Oh no, do men really kiss women there and lick them and everything?" she asked.
"The smart ones do, they know how to really make a woman feel great. I'm going to kiss your ass all over, not just on the cheeks, but down deep between them where I'll bet you've got a beautiful little pink ring. Not many gals get kissed there, but you're going to."
"Oh Dune, oh Dune," she sighed squirming as he moved farther down on the couch, turned her over and began kissing and fondling her buttocks and thighs.
She gave a low groan when, after pulling her up onto her knees, he parted her buttocks and began using his tongue in the deep valley, licking up and down, then centering on her anus. The whole thing was an erotic dream come true, it was too much to bear, delightfully so. It became a form of torture, yet was exquisite and she wanted it to go on forever.
But nothing does, and in a little while he turned her over and kept her warm behind squirming on the couch as he parted and raised her legs, his lips trailing wet, thrilling kisses up the sensitive inner thighs.
She began to heave and buck when his lips and tongue were within an inch of her vulva, but there was no thought of protest, only desire for that tongue to move the final inch and really drive her crazy.
Clara had heard about cunnilingus, had listened to one girl recount how it had happened to her and how she had nearly gone out of her mind when she achieved orgasm with the man's tongue licking her clitoris. Now, she sensed, she was really going to experience it.
She issued a banshee wail as she felt the tongue touch her vulva and lick slowly upward. As she waited for it to return, she felt his mouth press hard and hot on her vulva, and her body jerked.
Strong hands held her hips gently and the man began to devour the core of her womanhood, using both his mouth and tongue. He persisted greedily until orgasm swept over the girl, threatening to devour her entire body as the man had devoured her crotch.
Sitting beside her on the couch, Duncan rubbed her smooth, warm tummy as she made a gradual return to the world of reality after her shattering venture into erotic outer space.
"Did you enjoy it a bit?" he asked, grinning.
"Are you kidding?" was all she could manage in reply.
"Glad you liked it. That was only the beginning," he cold her. "The big things are still ahead for you."
While he continued to toy with her body, knowing she was becoming rearoused, he told her about the real joy of sexual intercourse. As he talked, his hand moved down over her belly, parted her thighs and began teasing her clitoris, rubbing a little, then drawing out.
Despite his crude exterior, Duncan was obviously a skilled and sensitive lover who knew just what he was doing to the girl. As her arousal grew, he rolled partially onto her, his strong penis pressing into the foliage of her mons veneris.
Time and again he brought her to the edge of climax only to withdraw his finger and leave her hanging, and then his patient approach paid off.
"Stick it in me," she cried. "Give it to me. Take my cherry. Fuck me!"
Instantly, he parted her thighs, rolled between them and, unable to distinguish between cries of ecstasy and of pain, Clara eagerly disposed of her virginity.
Later, she admitted freely that he had not forced her in any way and that it was she who had begged for it.
After that, she had an affair with the man that lasted for many months. Each evening, after they had closed up the restaurant, they opened up her legs and renewed the pleasure they found together.
Now in her mid-twenties, already divorced, Clara is enjoying life and laughingly admitting that her teasing of Duncan really backfired on her, but in doing so, taught her a lot about sex.
It also taught her to be discerning. As she phrases it, "only the best of lovers need apply."
CASE HISTORY 3
Fate had not dealt kindly with Elva. At sixteen, she had a body that many a mature woman envied, but a face that drew anything but envy. She was in that unhappy middle-ground between unattractive and ugly, closer to ugly-
As she became more and more aware of her unfortunate face, it became even less attractive as it took on the appearance of unhappiness, showing to all who saw her, the unhappiness she carried within.
She had few friends and kept telling herself she didn't want any. Elva turned to books which did not evaluate her on her beauty or lack of it. They became her best friends.
In her frequent visits to the library, she came to know the whole staff and found herself on a first name basis with them. Of them all, she most liked a woman named Barbara.
Barbara was a plain, yet intelligent-looking woman in her late thirties. She had a stern, frigid look about her which caused most people to think she was unfriendly. For a while, Elva regarded her that way as well, then she fell into a conversation with the woman and discovered a warmth about her that she had not suspected could exist.
In time, Elva began to enjoy the strange luxury of an actual friend, one with whom she could talk freely knowing that what she said would be taken seriously and in confidence.
Sensing that Elva was troubled, the woman drew her out with subtle questions and soon knew the unhappy story of her life as a loner. Barbara gave sympathy without ever being cloying about it.
Once when Elva mentioned the librarian's name at school, one of the girls to whom she was talking gave her a strange look, then spoke up.
"You better be careful, Elva. If you ever get into a back room with her you're going to lose your little panties."
Angrily, Elva demanded to know what she was talking about. The girl was vague, saying only that she'd heard the woman was a lesbian. Elva rose to the defense of the woman, flushed with a mixture of anger and embarrassment and stalked away from the group.
Still, what the girl had told her stayed with her and grew as time passed. In her room that night, she found that she was unable to concentrate on reading and eventually put the book down and stopped trying.
Instead, she turned her thoughts in the direction of lesbianism. What were lesbians like? she wondered. What did they do? Her knowledge of the subject was fragmentary, something that hadn't bothered her in the past, but suddenly became important.
There was a stack of unread book reviews on her dresser and she began wading through them, looking for reviews of books on that subject. She found little that offered any promise, still she noted a couple of titles.
On her next visit to the library, Elva found the two books. While chatting with Barbara, the woman asked what she was borrowing, looked at the two titles and handed them back to her was something like a frown on her face.
"I can't tell you what to read and what not to, Elva," she told her. "All I can say is that you shouldn't believe everything you read."
"Are you angry with me, Barbara?" Elva asked impulsively, seeing that the frown was still there.
"Oh Elva dear," the woman said, obviously concerned. Her hand moved as if to touch the girl, then stopped. "I'm sorry if I made you think that."
"That's all right, Barbara," Elva replied, smiling again, "I guess I was just being silly."
Both books turned out to be flops, in Elva's view. They did not deal explicitly with the theme of lesbianism, seeming to assume that the reader had a full, basic knowledge of the subject so that the authors dealt more in suggestion and symbolism, than in telling her what lesbianism was really all about.
"I didn't finish either of them," Elva told her friend when she returned the books.
"I'm not surprised, dear," Barbara told her. "If you're seeking to expand your knowledge, none of the books that can help are here. People who decide what will be stocked in public libraries can be pretty stuffy."
"You're not shocked that I want to read about this, to try to understand what it is?"
"Heavens no. You are an intelligent young woman. I'd be shocked if I discovered that your primary interests were pop groups and hippies."
"Then where are the books, Barbara?" the girl persisted.
"If you are that interested, dear, I'll find them for you. All I ask is that it be our secret."
"Oh Barbara, you know that."
"Yes, I suppose I do and I needn't have said it. I'll dig up some books for you tomorrow. It's my evening to work, so drop by and I'll have something for you. And Elva," she added as an afterthought, "please come to me if you need any advice or help of any kind."
"Thank you," the girl replied warmly, "I would have done that anyway, but thanks for offering."
The following evening, Elva dropped into the library to pick up her books. The woman gave her a wrapped package and told her to go home and begin reading.
The books were as different as Barbara had told her and Elva understood why they were not stocked in the library. She read of lesbians making love, of mutual masturbation, cunnilingus, riding, and many other things including dildoes and other artificial phalli.
When she finished the second book, Elva understood how carefully Barbara had selected them. One spoke glowingly of the beauty, tenderness and warmth of the love between two women.
The other painted the opposite side of the coin, portraying lesbians as lonely, bitter, haunted people constantly searching for peace and contentment and never finding it, knowing that they never would and yet unable to stop trying.
Barbara didn't act at all surprised when Elva reported that while the two books had taught her so much on the subject, they had raised two questions for every one they answered. The result was that she was more concerned than ever. They arranged to meet at Barbara's apartment early the following evening.
While the woman would have been content with general conversation at the outset of their meeting, Elva wanted to wade right into the subject. She asked questions and the woman answered each as carefully and honestly as she could until at one point she called a halt.
"I have to say this now, Elva, because it is in context with every answer I give you. I don't know whether you know or suspect it, but I am a lesbian."
Elva sat silently for a few seconds, then turned on a gentle smile. "I don't know how to explain it, Barbara, but I think I'm glad. If that sounds funny, I can't help it."
Barbara went on to explain the many varieties of lesbian relationships; how some are merely casual sex, some friendship and sex, and others fierce, demanding love, daring any other person, male or female to intrude in any way.
The conversation went on until, noticing the time, Barbara told the girl she would have to go home. Even though she didn't want to leave, Elva knew the woman was right and rose sadly to leave.
Telling the girl to cheer up, Barbara suggested another meeting the following evening. They had almost reached the apartment door when Elva stopped suddenly. There were tears in her eyes as she turned to face the woman.
"Please kiss me, Barbara. Kiss me and hold me in your arms for just a minute, then I'll go."
There were suddenly tears in the woman's eyes as she seemed to waver as though she would fall, then her arms went around Elva and their mouths mashed hungrily, each holding the other tightly.
The kiss left both weak and breathless.
"I can't let you walk home alone, Elva, and some fresh air would be good for me too. I'll join you and we'll talk about nothing but books. Agreed?"
Elva agreed gladly and there was little conversation of any kind as they walked through the quiet streets, each with her own thoughts.
Before leaving home the following day, Elva bathed with more than usual care. Her thoughts were vague, but erotic, containing a vague awareness as she washed between her thighs that there could be a face there before the evening ended.
"If I'd known your number," Barbara told the girl as she admitted her to her apartment, "I'd have called and told you not to come."
"Are you sick?" Elva asked.
"Only with worry."
"Worry? About me, us?"
"Yes."
Desperate with fear that she could lose Barbara before she actually found her, Elva's mind fought for some way to calm the woman's conscience.
"Barbara," she said, trying to keep her voice under control, "you must understand the state I'm in. If it isn't you, it's going to be someone else. Perhaps someone who doesn't give a damn about me and wants a young, inexperienced girl to have fun with. Would that make you feel any better?"
"Ooh," the woman winced, "you hit way below the belt."
"I'm sorry, Barbara. I'm desperate."
"I understand, dear, but let's not go rushing around working up a big sweat. Let's just sit and chat a while. If things are going to happen, they'll happen. It will be better that way."
They sat together on a couch, Barbara's arm going around the girl's waist naturally and comfortably. When it became obvious to the woman that casual conversation was not going to be easy, if possible at all, she turned the girl's face toward her, saw Elva tremble, then brought their mouths together.
As they fell back on the couch in their passionate embrace, Elva felt a strong but gentle hand on her thigh, moving higher and thrilling her as nothing had ever thrilled her before.
"You'll show me what to do, won't you," the girl asked, her mouth still close to the woman's.
"Yes, darling, I will, but your own body will tell you what it wants to do. Just obey it. Right now, mine is screaming at me that my nice wide bed will be much more comfortable than this couch. Come, dear."
It delighted Elva that the woman held her hand as they walked into the bedroom. There, without speaking, Barbara removed her dress and half slip and the girl followed suit.
"Yes, dear," Barbara said, noticing the direction of Elva's glance, "my bra is padded. I have very small breasts. They were a factor in my becoming a lesbian."
"Would you like to tell me how it happened?"
"Why not?" Barbara said as she sat on the bed and patted the spot beside her. "I was eighteen. The other girls had bigger breasts and that was what the boys wanted. It might have been different if I'd been pretty, but I was very plain. That and small titties killed any chance, as I saw it then. I began to hate all males.
"A woman came along who was gentle and kind. She took me to bed and liked me. She kissed and sucked my pitifully small breasts and said they were beautiful. That was it."
"Barbara, please take your bra off. I want to kiss your breasts, truly I do."
Looking as though she were going to cry, the woman took her bra off and displayed breasts that were very small indeed, yet firm and, Elva thought, very pretty. Licking her lips, she bent to the woman and kissed both nipples, then began nuzzling the small mounds.
She had barely begun when the woman began to squirm and groan in passion. Elva felt hands working behind her back, skilled fingers slipping the hooks of her bra. Seconds later, the cups of her bra fell away and were replaced by smooth, gentle hands which rubbed as they held.
"How beautiful," Barbara gasped in awe. "They're not just breasts, darling, they're big, firm, beautiful tits."
A little choked cry was all Elva could manage by way of response, then she felt herself being pushed down onto her back on the bed as the woman bent over her and began avidly kissing, licking and sucking her hypersensitive breasts, making them even more so by the second.
Because Barbara kept moving on the bed as she kissed and fondled the girl, Elva had an opportunity to feel many parts of the mature body and thighs as she kept reaching for her.
Her body was firm and her skin smooth, it was thrilling to feel and pat it, to fondle and caress as it kept squirming under her hands the way her own body squirmed under the sucking of the warm, beautifully greedy mouth which was making her nipples feel raw but wonderful.
Elva got a hand between the woman's thighs, felt the warm softness of her womanhood through the thin nylon of her panties. She made sure that Barbara did not get away as she held her firmly, feeling the woman's body rub against her hand in passionate desire.
When the hungry mouth left the girl's breasts, it went back to her mouth and the woman and girl writhed through an endless series of passionate kisses with only a few whispered words of love, beauty and wonder sandwiched between the kisses.
Still maintaining the lead, Barbara broke the embrace and began taking Elva's panties down. The girl helped by raising her body off the bed. She found it impossible to believe that so simple an act as having her panties taken off could be such a thrilling thing, but it was.
Parting the firm young thighs, the woman gave a groan as she peered between them, then began fondling and kissing them with the same avidity she had displayed while sucking Elva's breasts.
Elva felt two strong hands capture her buttocks and holding them tightly, fingers digging in to the firm flesh, yet not hurting her, then she felt nothing but that exciting mouth fastening onto the aroused warmth of her vulva.
She felt it sucking, kissing, pressing, then Barbara's tongue moved up into the small slit and found her clitoris. At that, the girl's mouth opened to scream, but she was able to ram a corner of the pillow into it so that the cry of ecstasy was partially muffled. Had she not done so, she was sure, her cry would have been heard throughout the entire city.
Opening her eyes, Elva saw the woman's panties close to her face. Pulling and tugging, stretching her neck until it hurt, Elva drew the woman closer to her and pushed her face between the warm, silken thighs.
Elva wished desperately that she had taken the woman's panties off earlier so that she would be able to do to Barbara what was so excitingly being done to her, but it was too late for that. Her hands did not have the freedom, her body did not have the strength.
Her mouth was on the crotch of Barbara's panties and she licked and sucked at the already wet, very warm fabric, wishing she could tear it away with her teeth so that the vulva would be on her mouth without the unwanted intrusion of nylon.
With each breath, she detected the faint, musky perfume of woman crotch and each time, she felt a renewed thrill as she strove to inhale more and more deeply.
But even that was forgotten as her body tensed and told her she was about to go into orgasm. As she did so, Elva pressed her face into the woman's crotch which beautifully muffled her broken cries and moans.
The spasm kept tearing through her, stronger ... stronger ... unbearably stronger until the last one hit and her body floated in a beauty and warmth and peace that was incredible.
And then it was like waking or perhaps being born as she opened her eyes and discovered that she was lying in Barbara's arms, her cheek resting on the warm, smooth shoulder.
"Well, darling," Barbara whispered warmly, "you've been there. Did you enjoy the trip?"
E Ia tried very hard to tell her how much she had enjoyed it, all of it, then gave up trying.
"There aren't enough words in the world to tell what it was like," she whispered, her voice weak. "Will it always be like that?"
"No, darling, not always the same, but I hope every one will be good."
"How do you feel, Barbara?"
"Like there's a bush fire burning between my legs. I know that can't be though because I've got the wettest panties in town. I don't know how that could have happened."
"It happened," Elva told her, "because they were in my way and kept me from getting my mouth right on you the way I wanted to. I wanted to chew them off you, but I was afraid my teeth would hurt you."
"You're very sweet, Elva. You weren't at all afraid of having your face in my crotch like that?"
"How could I have been when you were doing that wonderful thing to me? Oh God, how I wanted to do it to you."
"Do you still want to, darling?"
"Yes. More than anything in the world I want to suck and lick and kiss your cunny like you did to me."
"Then why don't you take my wet panties off and do something about it? Unless of course," Barbara went on with a teasing grin, "you're only pretending and saying those things just to be nice to me."
"I'll show you how much I'm pretending," Elva replied as she turned on the bed and reached for the woman's panties to get them out of the way. "Come on, lift that lovely ass or I'll turn you over and spank it."
Laughing, delighted at how quickly the girl had made the transition from girlish innocence to confident lesbian lover, Barbara raised her bottom and felt her panties being stripped down.
A beatific smile lighting and warming her usually stern face, Barbara trembled with delight as, she watched the young beauty staring between her raised and parted thighs as though she could devour the woman with them.
"It's going to feel wonderful, darling," she told Elva in an almost groan. "I can almost feel your mouth on me right now."
Without replying, the girl pressed her face between the smooth thighs and felt soft, moist lips under her mouth as she went all the way down and the warm body jerked up at her in an erotic, responding kiss.
Elva couldn't believe that she really had her face in the crotch of a woman, her tongue right up inside her body, and yet, she told herself, if it turned out to be only a dream, she would die when she woke.
But the sighs and groans of the woman, the writhing of the body under her hands and mouth, and the sweet musk which intoxicated the girl, assured her that it was anything but a dream, that she had, perhaps, discovered the one, true reality in all of life, the sweet, physical love of woman for woman.
Barbara climaxed strongly, her body bucking violently, her delightfully wet crotch massaging the face of the girl who thrilled anew with each new contact of the woman's warm, wet crotch on her face.
At the ultimate high point of the orgasm, Barbara pushed Elva's face out of her crotch and flailed her arms and legs in utter abandon, then it passed and a look of peace and joy came over her face. For the first time, Elva saw that Barbara was beautiful. It told her something about the power of physical love and it gave her renewed hope for herself.
Earlier, in their rush to nudity, neither had removed her garter belt or nylons, and they sat that way on the bed as they talked of what they had discovered, or at any rate, what the girl had discovered and what had been rediscovery for the woman.
"Have you gotten over your funny feelings about showing me all this?" Elva asked.
"I have for the time being, darling," Barbara replied. "They'll probably come back during the night, when I'm alone."
"If so, don't let them in," the girl told her. "After all, I seduced you, you know. It wasn't the other way around."
"I suppose you did at that," Barbara grinned, "but it was up to me as a mature woman not to give in. I rather suspect my conscience will take a few swipes at me."
"That would be silly, you really couldn't have stopped me."
"You think not?" Barbara asked, grinning.
"I'm sure not. I'd have raped you. Is there such a thing as lesbian rape?"
"I don't know, darling," Barbara laughed, "but let's not fight about it anyway."
They didn't fight about it then or later and enjoyed a torrid romance until Elva went away to college. The girl still sees Barbara for brief revivals of their affair during vacations, but they tend more to talk about the past and the present than about the future, nor does Elva mention casual affairs she enjoys from time to time with similarly inclined sorority sisters. Barbara, wisely, doesn't ask.
CASE HISTORY 4
There is a breed of human, usually male, who is known to police and telephone company people as the telephone nut. He is a disturbed person with strong sexual drives which he cannot handle in more conventional methods, so he gives vent to them by calling strangers, usually females, and attempting to engage them in highly erotic conversations.
It matters not to him that twenty times in a row the person receiving the call slams the phone down, there is always hope that the twenty-first will be more rewarding.
Gil became a "telephone nut," so called, at the age of sixteen. There are those who would say that this was a surprise because of his background, but I would disagree, pointing out that his background properly equipped him for such a departure from normally acceptable conduct.
He was one of two children of a strictly religious couple who felt that man could attain heaven only through prayer and suffering on earth. Naturally, they impressed this on their children and saw to it that the youngsters were exposed to more of it in church every Sunday, usually twice.
Ranking right at the top of the ladder of sinful things was, not surprisingly, sex, or as it was termed, sins of the flesh. To people who feel this way, even the word sex is an evil thing so it is not used.
Indicative of the family attitude toward that sinful subject was the fact that Gil's sister, three years older than he, learned early in life that one keeps one's bedroom door closed at all times and does not appear outside the bedroom anything but fully dressed.
When she was young, the girl would have screamed had her younger brother seen her in her slip.
But years pass and things change. When she was eighteen, Gil's sister announced to her parents that, having graduated from high school, she was going to take a job and leave home to share an apartment with another girl. To Gil's parents, this was much the same as saying she was going to live in a whorehouse, and her father implied as much.
Despite parental objections, she left home, following a final bitter scene with her mother, leaving Gil alone on the diet of religion and righteousness she had shared with him.
Feeling that they had not prayed hard enough and that the downfall of their daughter was their punishment from on high, the parents redoubled their efforts to ensure that they would not lose their son in the same way.
Nightly prayers and Bible reading were conducted, television was permitted only in small doses and with each program being first approved by one or both parents, and generally, the boy's life became such that he wondered whether the hell of which he heard so much could be any worse than the life he lived.
Underlying most of his feeling was a deep conviction that in the whole area of sins of the flesh, his parents were hiding things from him, exciting things that he had a right to know about.
Masturbation had shown him how exciting sex could be, but he wanted to know more about sex, about how it was between a naked male and female. His parents must have done it at least twice to produce him and his sister, he reasoned, yet they acted as though anything between a man and a woman was a foul sin.
He attended a church-run high school where even recreation periods were strictly supervised. Too, since he lacked the freedom other boys enjoyed, he had few friends with whom he could discuss such matters and they, like he, were the less adventurous ones, the ones who knew as little about such things as he.
Still, from time to time, he would hear a few snatches of conversation, would be permitted a quick glimpse at some forbidden book or magazine, would see a girl sitting in a way that permitted him a quick glimpse of smooth thighs or, rarely, the crotch or panties.
In a newspaper one day he read of police and telephone company officials being concerned about a recent wave of obscene telephone calls. At once, he was filled with the excitement of talking to strange women on the phone and saying dirty things to them. Since they wouldn't know who he was, he reasoned, he could say anything he wanted, ask them all kinds of intimate questions, and have more fun than he'd ever known.
The following afternoon, he returned home early from school and found that, as usual, his mother was out visiting. As he positioned the phone so that he would be able to see his mother approach the house, the boy felt his penis stiffen as excitement swept over him.
Picking up the phone book, he watched the small type swim before his eyes and had to blink a few times before he was able to read it. Picking a number at random, he dialed it and heard a woman answer.
"Will you," he paused, not knowing what to say, "talk to me about sex?"
"Go talk to your mother," the voice replied angrily and he heard the phone being slammed down.
Gil was so upset by the woman's angry rejection of him that he didn't try another call. Going to his room, he took his penis out to masturbate, but guilt and rejection kept him from doing even that.
The next time he had an opportunity, he tried three times and got three quick rejections, but on the fourth, a girl answered. When he stated his business, he heard her giggle and call to another girl to come and listen.
Wishing they would take him more seriously, yet pleased that at last someone was listening, he persisted.
"I've got my [penis] out," he said, excitedly, and it's real hard. Do you ever take your panties off and play in between your legs?"
There was a burst of giggles, then one girl replied, "Sure, I stand up on my desk in school and do it every day. The teacher thinks it's real funny. He takes his thing out and we play with each other."
The girls were still giggling and laughing madly when he hung up the phone on yet another failure, doubting that the idea would ever work for him as it seemed to do for others.
But Gil persisted until one afternoon, on his first try, a woman responded to his request to talk about sex by asking who he was.
"I can't tell you that," he replied, "but I don't know you and you don't know me." He persisted in his plea and felt excitement when the woman still did not hang up.
He told her that he had his penis out and that he would like to talk to a woman while he played with it until ejaculation, although his terms were not quite so clinical.
"Is it fun doing that?" she asked.
He assured her it was, and when she asked if many women talked to him, he admitted with a sob, that not one had up to that point. He hoped she would feel sorry for him and stay on the phone. She did.
"Do you like to [sexual intercourse]? " he asked.
"Oh sure," she replied.
"Tell me what it's like," he begged.
"Well, I take off all my clothes and so does my husband. He feels me up all over and I play with his [penis] until it's big and hard, then I lay on my back with my legs open, he puts it in my [vagina] and moves it in and out until he shoots."
In his excitement, the boy forgot that he had been playing with his penis and by the time he realized it, he was on the verge of ejaculating.
"I'm coming ... I'm ... ooh..." he gasped and put the phone down. He managed to get a hand over the head of his penis in time to catch most of the spurting semen. There was just time to get the mess cleaned up and his penis tucked back in his pants when his mother returned.
At his first opportunity, Gil returned to the directory and tried to find the number. He had noted the woman's name only vaguely and wasn't sure he could find it again. It was a consistently lucky day for the boy as he found and made a note of the name and number.
It was two days before he had a chance to call the woman again. He apologized for having hung up so fast the previous time, and asked her if she would talk to him again. Telling him that she wouldn't normally talk like that to strangers, but was making an exception in his case because he sounded like such a nice boy, she engaged in another erotic chat with him.
He had many questions to ask about sex, and the woman seemed to enjoy answering them. There were areas where Gil did not have knowledge enough to know the questions, let alone the answers, but she took the lead there.
"Do you know much about sucking?" she asked, sounding as excited as the boy.
"Not much," he was forced to admit, "except that I guess queers do it to each other."
"You don't have to be queer to know about using your mouth," she informed him. "A woman loves to have a guy go down on her."
When Gil told her he didn't understand that term, she gave him a very detailed description of cunnilingus, so detailed that it even included a description of how the man's hands felt on the thighs and buttocks of the woman. She told him a number of positions that could be used to perform the act and cited the relative advantages of each.
Telling him that she was expecting a visitor very soon, she suggested that he go ahead and masturbate in case she had to hang up in a hurry.
"I'll take my panties down and feel myself while you're doing it," she went on. "That will give you something nice to think about while you're pulling yourself."
This time, Gil was better prepared with a thick pile of tissues to catch his semen. When he told her he was ready, the woman resumed talking.
"I'm wearing black nylon panties that you can see right through. I've had them on all day and they're nice and warm now, especially between by thighs where they press against my nice warm [vulva]. Just a second now while I put the phone down." There was a pause, then she returned to the line.
"There, I've pulled my panties way down my legs and pulled my dress up. My bare ass is sitting on the edge of the chair and my legs are open. I've got my finger up my [vagina] and I'm diddling myself. After you shoot your cream, I'm going to come too."
Gil didn't know that women could climax and promised himself he would ask her about it the next time they talked.
"You better hurry," she told him, "I think I hear a car stopping outside."
The boy had been delaying his ejaculation, but at her words he resumed masturbating and, a few seconds later, told her he was ready to go off.
The woman listened as he gasped and panted through his ejaculation, then told him she had to pull her panties up to go answer the door.
"I'll have my come tonight when I'm in bed, bare naked," she told him.
The next time Gil called her, he told the woman he'd like to visit her and asked her if he would be allowed to see under her dress.
"Well, you sound like a nice boy, so perhaps I'd let you do that. When could you come?"
They set a date for the following afternoon immediately after school. Gil was prepared for trouble with his parents, but he was sixteen then and under the laws of his state, free to leave home.
That evening, amazed at his own courage, Gil told his parents that while he would like to live at home and go on with his education, he would do so only if they stopped treating him like a child and allowed him some freedom.
It was the beginning of another angry scene as they saw another of their children on the road to hell, but Gil made it clear that he was determined and that the choice was theirs. As a sop to his parents, he told them that he would continue to go to church although he was dropping Sunday school.
At length, they conceded defeat, although his mother shed many tears and his father glowered angrily, suggesting that a good licking might straighten the boy out.
"Go ahead," he told his father, thrilled at his calm display of courage, "but you'll only get the chance to do it once. After that, I'll be gone. One licking won't kill me, no matter how hard you beat me."
The gamble worked and as he turned the television on, he heard them praying loudly in the adjoining room. He smiled as he realized they were trying to shame him into joining them. The boy didn't usually watch Batman, but that evening he decided it was more interesting than what he called dumb prayers.
The following afternoon, Gil was nervous and out of breath from hurrying when he rang the woman's bell. Had she changed her mind? Although it was only seconds before she came to the door, it seemed like the better part of an hour to the trembling boy.
She looked at him through the window, hesitated, then slipped the bolt and opened the door.
"I'm Gil," he told her, having given her his first name the previous day.
"Hello, Gil, I'm Fern. Come on in and we can have a nice chat."
The woman looked to be about his mother's age or a bit older, but she smiled easily, wore makeup that made her look so much better, and dressed so that the curves of her breasts and full behind showed excitingly.
"I'm having a drink, Gil," she told him as she sat and crossed her legs, allowing him to see nylon sheathed thighs, "do you drink?"
"No," he admitted, sounding like a child, he felt. "I guess I could have a beer though."
"Sure, I'll get you a nice cold one."
She left and returned a minute later carrying a foamy beer in a chilled glass. Gil hadn't thought much about drinking before since it was so obviously out of the question for him, but the beer looked good and when he sipped it, the taste was even better.
While they chatted, the woman asking Gil many questions about himself and his sex thoughts, she kept smiling and raising the hem of her dress higher over her thighs until he was able to see the expanded tops of her nylons, the bare white thigh above, and the contrasting black suspender.
"Are you wearing a girdle?" he asked, proud of even that much knowledge of female attire.
"No, Gil," she told him, "I'm wearing a sexy black garter belt. When I take my dress off, you'll be able to see it through my sheer, black nylon panties. You'll be able to see a lot more than that too."
"Are you really going to let me see that?" Gil asked anxiously.
"Sure, Gil. I'm going to let you see lots of things. Now what say you take out your [penis] and let me see it."
The boy flinched a little at that, but as she talked, she pulled the hem of her dress higher so that he was able to see a little of the crotch of her panties. That was enough to overcome his shyness. Standing, he opened his fly and produced his penis for her inspection.
"It may not be the biggest one in the world, Gil," she told him, smiling, "but it looks nice and hard. Come and let me have a feel. I haven't felt one of those in a long time."
"But what about your husband?" he asked as he walked to her.
"Oh, I guess I didn't mention. He died about three years ago. Ooh," she said as her hand closed around his erection, "it's going to feel nice to have this sticking in me. Will this really be your first piece of tail?"
"Yes," he told her, wishing that she wouldn't be quite so crude about it.
"You want to lay me, don't you?" she asked as her hand moved back and forth on his penis.
"Oh yes," he assured her. "I want to do all the things we talked about on the phone."
"We will, lover boy, but I don't think you'll be up to doing them all in one day. Anyway, let's go to the bedroom and get started." As they walked toward the woman's bedroom, her hands were busy unfastening her dress.
They had just entered the room when she pulled the garment over her head and tossed it over the back of a chair. She saw his eyes go wide with wonder at the sight of her in bra and sheer panties.
"Sit on the edge of the bed," Fern told him "and I'll let you feel me up a little. I guess you've always wanted to do that to a woman, didn't you?"
Telling her how right she was, Gil sat on the bed with his legs together. Approaching him, she moved up against the bed, her legs straddling his, the nylon rubbing him, her breasts looming big above him.
"Go ahead and feel, lover boy. Anywhere you like. I got a lot to feel and it's all yours."
His hands swarmed over her scantily clad body, from her shoulders all the way down to her knees. Despite the fact that she talked only in obscenities, Gil was delighted at having a real woman in bra and panties allowing him to feel her anywhere he wanted, and he took full advantage of it.
"Okay, lover," she told him then, "give my crotch another rub then get up and take all your clothes off so we can start having some real fun."
Gil did so, felt moisture in her panties, then stood as she backed away and, not taking his eyes off her, undressed.
"Hey," she observed as she looked him over, "you're pretty good. I think you're going to give me a real bouncing around in the hay. Ready to see a nice big pair of tits?"
He told her he was, and she unfastened her bra, then jerked it away from her body. A more experienced man would had known that her breasts lacked firmness and fell short of being beautiful, but that did not apply in Gil's case and he caught his breath at the sight of them.
While the boy watched intently, she fondled them with both hands, holding them up and out toward him as she told him how she liked having them sucked. Gill liked the sound of it and decided it would be nice to bury his face in the big pillows of flesh.
"I'm going to let you do something a boy friend of mine liked to do," she went on. "Come and kneel down close to me and I'll let you take my panties off for me. If you look up between my legs when I step out of them you should see something nice right between them."
Gil knelt and reached for the top of her panties. He took them down slowly as if afraid of hurting her, then paused as he bared the big triangle of tangled pubic hair.
"That's a real bush, isn't it?" she asked proudly, then told him to get her panties off so they could get going.
As her panties fell around her ankles, Gil, remembering what she had said, looked up as she raised one leg higher than necessary to step out of the panties. As she swung the leg away from the other, he looked right into the dark heat of her crotch. He couldn't be sure whether or not he liked what he saw.
Kicking her panties away, she pulled the boy to his feet and took him into bed. There, she rolled him onto his back and lay atop him, her arms and legs wrapped around him, her big, soft body rubbing, pressing him down into the soft bed.
"Come on, baby," she panted, moving up on him and holding a big breast with one hand, "time for lunch. Really make me know you're sucking."
With that, she pushed a nipple and a portion of breast into his mouth. Her body jerking, pressing the big, soft breast down on his face, she kept urging him to suck. He felt he was being smothered, and yet the excitement of it all kept him from caring about that.
While he sucked her second breast, Gil realized that the way she was rubbing against him was going to trigger ejaculation. He tried to tell her to stop, but with his mouth filled with breast as it was, he couldn't.
Gil held back as long as he could, then groaned and felt his semen spurting. It felt so good to be doing that with the body of a naked woman pressing down on him.
"You crazy little bastard," she snarled as she pushed up off him. "What the hell did you go and do that for? Look at the mess of my belly."
In the triangle of hair low on her belly, Gil saw semen. It really was a mess, he decided, then felt the mess on his own belly. The pleasure had passed and now he felt discomfort and shame. He began to cry, trying to tell her that it hadn't been his fault.
"All right, kid," she turned off her anger, "I guess I did rub you too much. Don't worry though, we'll soon get it hard."
Taking him into her arms, she rolled him around on the bed for a little while, her body rubbing him again, her hands moving all over his body, trying to stimulate him into action.
"Look, kid," she told him, "I get to get something out of this. I know, I'll let you go down on me. That should get you hard in a hurry."
When the woman had mentioned cunnilingus earlier, it had sounded exciting to the boy, but just then, it didn't appeal to him at all. Still, she made it very clear that he had no option. She wanted cunnilingus and he was going to give it to her.
The first couple of attempts were failures, but she was persistent. Making him lie on his back, she knelt astride him, her crotch and buttocks directly above his face.
"Now, lover boy, I'm going to deliver it right to you. This is the way my old man liked to eat it."
Her fingers parted the lips and Gil looked up into the red wetness of her, then, telling him to suck hard and get his tongue up into her vagina, she brought her body down on his face, her wet vulva directly on his mouth.
She had to urge him on by grinding her crotch on his face and cursing him angrily until, knowing that it was the only way he was going to get out from under her, to escape the odor and the uncomfortable confinement, he performed cunnilingus until she climaxed.
When she let him up, the boy ran to the bathroom and was very sick. He returned to the room sheepishly to find the woman dressing.
"Get dressed and go home, kid," she said with contempt. "Come back when you grow up, if you ever do."
Filled with revulsion, Gil almost ran from the house. He walked for a long time, wondering how anything that had seemed so filled with promise of excitement, could have been so ugly and dirty.
It cured his telephone habits as well as his interest in females. A few months later, he met a young man who was, like he, shy and gentle. They quickly became friends and it was not long before they were naked in the young man's room with Gil thrilling to the delicate manner of the young man as he stroked Gil's body very gently while performing fellatio and bringing him a delightful ejaculation.
Gil quickly learned to enjoy performing the act as well as having it performed on him. It was all so much cleaner and more enjoyable than it had been with the woman whom he remembered as having been ugly and foul smelling.
Now, six years later and a college grad, Gil is a confirmed homosexual with no intentions of ever trying a woman again.
In his affair with Fern, he was more seducer than seduced, but it backfired on him. The combination of his age and protected upbringing was not able to withstand the shock of the blatant sexuality and crudity of the woman, and so, he became a victim. Another case where the prey set out to find the predator.
CASE HISTORY 5
Heather was fifteen when she met the man who was to take her virginity. She did a lot of baby sitting and because she was responsible in her work, she received many assignments, all she could handle.
Jim was in his late thirties, a middle level executive who lived well and entertained often and lavishly. He held his liquor well, the girl noticed after her first few jobs at his house, and it was usually his wife who was well under the influence when they returned from an evening out.
There were times when he almost had to carry the glassy-eyed woman into the bedroom. To Heather, it seemed a waste for a woman with such a good-looking, strong-looking man to go to bed so drunk that she wouldn't be able to do the things a wife is entitled with him.
She was at the stage where she was very interested in sex although she lacked actual knowledge beyond what girls discussed when they got together and what she had read in romance novels.
Heather was very much aware of how nicely her body was developing and often posed in front of her full length mirror to examine her breasts, tummy, thighs and buttocks. She was well pleased, and with good reason, with what she saw and felt.
As time passed, when her hands explored her nude body, her excitement grew and she imagined that they were the hands of a handsome lover, a man who was a slave to her beauty and who could never get enough of her.
It was not long before the previously vague lover began to take on more definite characteristics. He had black hair, a ruggedly handsome face, a deep, warm voice, and, as she discovered one night while she waited for Jim to put his wife to bed before driving her home, he was Jim.
She blushed as the realization hit her, but then there was a thrilling excitement at the thought that in just a few minutes, she would be alone in a darkened car with him, with the man whose fantasy hands so thrilled and aroused her body when she stood in front of her mirror.
Heather snapped out of her trance to find the man standing in the doorway, smiling, his eyes focused on her crossed legs. As she jumped to her feet, pulling her skirt down, she began to blush hotly. It angered her and made her feel like a silly little girl, but she couldn't help it.
"You don't have to blush because you caught me looking below your skirt, Heather," he told her in that warm, rich voice which always thrilled her. "You have very beautiful legs. Are you sure you're only fifteen?"
Forcing a smile, the blush beginning to pass, Heather thanked him and assured him that she would not be sixteen for another month.
They were at the car then and he was holding the door open for her.
"In fact, Heather," his voice remained warm and exciting, "I know a lot of women who would envy you those thighs."
Unable to look at him, Heather got into the car and as she swung her legs around, she displayed more thigh than was necessary. While the man walked around the car, Heather saw how high her skirt had hiked above her knees, but couldn't force herself to pull it down.
During the ride home, she saw him glance more than once in the direction of her legs. It flattered and thrilled her that a handsome man like Jim, one who got around a lot and had probably been in bed with many women, was so delighted with her legs and thighs.
When they reached her house, Jim insisted that she sit and allow him to open the door for her. He hurried around the car and, without looking up at his face, Heather knew his eyes were on her legs again.
Hoping he couldn't see that she was trembling, she swung her legs off the seat in such a way that she saw the white of her thighs well above the tops of her nylons.
In her room, as she undressed hurriedly, Heather wondered if he was still thinking about her thighs as he drove home to his drunken wife.
Standing in front of the mirror with her garter belt and nylons still on, she admired and patted her thighs, telling herself how excited Jim would be if his hands were doing what hers were.
After she had explored her body entirely, Heather allowed one hand to move up an inner thigh until it found the warmth of her crotch where excitement churned. Knowing what she had to do if she were to sleep that night, Heather stood with her legs apart, slipped a finger into her vagina and, finding the hard little bud of her clitoris, masturbated to orgasm.
Memories of handsome Jim were still very much with her as she drifted into a deep, warm sleep. They were still there, pleasantly, when she woke in the morning and, throwing back the sheet, realized that she had forgotten to take off her garter belt and nylons before getting into bed the night before.
That come, she told herself, grinning naughtily at the thought, must have numbed my brain as well as my pussy.
The next time she sat Jim's children, his wife was sober when they returned and she drove the girl home. Before they left, Jim flashed her a quick warm smile that hit her in the knees.
After that, Jim went away on an extended business trip and she did not sit for the couple again until the eve of her sixteenth birthday.
This time, he returned half carrying his wife and lugged her right to the bedroom. As she sat waiting for him, Heather remembered the previous time she had waited for him and carefully hiked the hem of her skirt above her crossed legs so that he would see above the top of her nylon to the whiteness of her smooth thigh.
Putting her head back, she closed her eyes and pretended to be dozing. In a little while, she heard the man return to the room, but did not move. After a few seconds, confident that she had given him a nice view, she rubbed, then opened her eyes.
"I still can't believe you're only fifteen," he told her with that same dazzling smile.
"After today I won't be," she informed him as she uncrossed her legs and got to her feet.
On the way to the car, she confirmed that she was going to be sixteen the following day and agreed with his suggestion that it was an important age, one that would make her more woman and less girl.
When they reached Heather's house, he pulled the car over to the curb, but instead of getting out, he reached into his pocket and took out a bill.
"I didn't know about your birthday so I couldn't buy you a present. Please take this and buy yourself something nice."
While she thanked him, he started to hand her the bill, then stopped.
"Perhaps it wouldn't look right for you to walk in with this in your hand. I'll tuck it away for you so it will be out of sight."
She trembled as she felt his hand move under the hem of her skirt then go to the top of a nylon. He slipped fingers under the nylon, fingers which were like an electrical charge on her smooth, sensitive skin, then with the other hand, took his time about pushing the folded bill under her nylon.
As he did so, his little finger brushed her inner thigh, so close to the crotch of her panties that her body jerked.
"Did I hurt you?" he asked, warmly.
"No," she told him, hoping she was hiding at least some of her arousal.
"If I had, I suppose I'd have to kiss you better," he went on, his tone lower and even warmer.
"Maybe you should anyway, like a birthday kiss," she heard herself tell him and was amazed at her boldness.
"Of course, Heather. In fact, I think a birthday as important as the sixteenth deserves at least three kisses."
Bending over her, he raised the hem of her skirt and pressed a warm, lingering kiss on her silken thigh, well above the top of the nylon where he had tucked the bill. He felt her trembling as he felt her other thigh with one hand.
"I hope that was as good for you as it was for me," he whispered as he straightened up, not pulling her skirt down.
"It was the most exciting thing that ever happened to me," she whispered in reply.
"Then let's try the second kiss," he told her as his right arm went around her and pulled her body to him.
His mouth covered hers in what began as a light kiss, then grew in intensity until she was groaning into his mouth as his strong arms crushed her and she felt one of her breasts mashing against him.
In the course of the kiss, Heather told herself that any necking she had done in the past had been wasted time, that boys were nothing at all compared to this man.
"Do I get my third kiss now?" she asked when she got her breath back.
"Yes, dear, tell me where you'd like it?"
"I ... I can't decide. That one on my mouth was so great, but my right thigh is jealous of my left."
"Then we'll have to do something about that, dear," he told her. "Pull your skirt a little higher and tell your thigh to get ready."
Wild with desire, Heather jerked her skirt up all the way so that as he bent over her lap, the man could see her white panties, boldly displayed to add to the arousal that swept him.
Bending, he pressed his lips high on her thigh, then put a hand under her leg to raise it. As the thigh came up, his kiss moved closer to her crotch until she felt his mouth on the edge of her panties. She groaned, then felt his lips press against the tight, warm crotch of her sheer nylon panties. It was as if she could feel his mouth right on her vulva.
"One more kiss, dear," he told her as he raised his head, at the same time moving his hand between her thighs and pressing it into her crotch. He found her mouth and they shared a kiss that was even more passionate than the first one.
As the kiss ended, he removed his hand from her crotch, patting her thigh lightly as he did so.
"I guess you should take a minute to compose yourself before you go in," he told her. "I'll get a chance to do that while driving home, but if either of your parents are up they may get suspicious."
They sat in the car for a few minutes more, not talking at all, and then Heather told him she was ready to go in.
As he said good night and wished her a happy birthday, Heather flashed him a radiant smile and thanked him for his gifts.
"There are lots more where they came from, Heather," he told her, "and I love delivering them to you."
That night, as he was to tell Heather much later, when he got home, his penis still erect as it had been all through the session in the car, he found his wife lying on her back, her legs wide apart, deep in drunken sleep.
After he undressed, he knelt between her legs and masturbated, his mind filled with thoughts of the beautiful girl. He aimed his ejaculation so that it hot around her vulva and smiled as he pictured her trying to figure that out in the morning, not remembering, yet not daring to ask what had happened.
When Heather got to her room, she undressed quickly, still trembling with passion. Only then did she remember the bill he had tucked into her nylon. Absently, she removed it and saw that it was a twenty. She decided to hide it and feed it into her savings account a little at a time.
She postponed her masturbation until she was lying in her bed with the lights turned off so that she could more easily recapture the memory of the man and what had happened in the car.
It came easily and strongly. As her finger moved over the sensitive surface of her clitoris, his handsome face was kissing her thighs again, pressing between them, both his hand and his mouth were pressing her vulva when she went into the strongest orgasm she had ever experienced.
But this time sleep didn't follow orgasm. As she lay awake, Heather told herself that if she allowed the man to go that far with her again, there would be no stopping and she would no longer be a virgin.
With very little argument, she decided that it would happen again just as soon as possible. Virginity was just a thing for girlhood anyway, and she no longer felt like a girl. He had made a woman of her and if he wanted to take his woman, she would give herself eagerly.
The next time Jim drove her home, Heather had a plan ready and asked him to park the car away from her house so that they could spend a few minutes together. She hoped the time would give her the courage to tell him of her plan.
While they kissed, his hand went under her skirt to fondle her lush, silken thighs which she parted wide for him in erotic invitation which he hurriedly accepted, his strong hand pressing warmly on the crotch of her panties.
Only then did Heather realize that she should have left them off that night, but it was too late.
Throwing off her nervousness, she told him that in a little more than a week, her school was having a student exchange with a school in another city, for the weekend, from Friday noon until Sunday night.
"Are you going?" he asked.
"As far as my parents are concerned, I am. I'd much rather go somewhere else, with you."
Heather felt his body stiffen and wondered if she had gone too far. If he laughed at her, she swore silently, she would go into the house and kill herself.
"Are you a virgin, Heather?" he asked tender-
"Yes."
"You know that if we make that trip together, you won't be when you return."
"I know. I've thought it over and decided it's what I want. I want you to make love to me and make a woman of me, Jim. Do you want to make love to me?"
"So much that I can taste it. I'll make all the plans and meet you near your school on Friday."
"Oh Jim, I can't wait," she sighed, squirming in his arms.
"Neither can I, Heather, but we'll have to. I'm not going to take your virginity in the back seat of a car. There is something I can do though, dear, to give you a little taste of what's to come."
"What is it?" she asked eagerly.
"Take your panties off and I'll show you. It will be more fun than telling you."
Heather squirmed on the seat for a few seconds, then her panties were off. He positioned her just the way he wanted, then moved the seat all the way back and moved low, partially kneeling on the floor.
Heather felt her thighs being parted, one leg raised, then she gave a little strangled cry as she felt his mouth kissing her vulva. But he was more than kissing, she heard the exciting, wet sounds of sucking, then felt his tongue go inside and right to her clitoris.
In a very little time, Heather knew that she was going to climax with his tongue inside her body. It was a thrill beyond her wildest dreams.
And then she was in orgasm, her bare bottom squirming on the car seat as his hands held her strongly. When he sat beside her again, he promised her a whole weekend of that and more.
For Heather, there followed the ten longest days of her young life, and then it was Friday, the Friday. He was waiting beside the car when she reached their meeting place and, taking the overnight bag from her, he tossed it into the back seat and they were away.
"Nervous, dear?" the man asked.
"No. I thought I'd be, but all I am is excited and very anxious. Are we going far?"
"We're going all the way," he teased her with a smile. "Seriously though, it's a bit less than an hour's drive to a very pleasant little cottage on a very quiet lake."
They made good time along the highway, and then Jim turned the car into a rough, narrow road. He had driven less than a hundred yards when she asked him to stop the car.
"Do you want to turn back?" he asked, a look of hurt on his face.
"No, silly," she smiled, "I want to see that part of you that's going to make a woman of me. Please show it to me right now."
With a smile and a sigh of relief, Jim unzipped his fly and told her to take it out herself. It felt soft when she first touched his penis, but it stiffened and throbbed in her hand when she took it out of his pants.
"It's so big," she told him. "Can it really fit into me without tearing me apart?"
"It really can, Heather. Keep in mind that that tiny little slit of yours is big enough that some day a baby's head will pass through it. I have to admit mine isn't that big."
Laughing, she asked him to leave his penis out while he drove. While he was forced to concentrate on navigating the narrow, bad road, Heather concentrated on his penis which remained hard.
He turned the car off that road, drove through what was no more than a wide path, then pulled up at the door of a surprisingly attractive little cottage. Heather doubled over with laughter as Jim got out with his penis still out of his pants.
She stopped laughing when they closed the cottage door behind them and he took her into his arms.
"Are we going to do it right away?" she asked as their kiss ended.
"No, dear. We're going to play and get used to each other. There's lots of time and lots of other things to do. We'll do it when our bodies tell us they're ready."
"I think mine is ready now," she told him.
"I know how to make it even readier."
He was undressing and Heather asked whether she should do the same. Smiling, he told her that he'd rather do the job of undressing her.
Heather smiled excitedly, thrilled at the thought of having the handsome man undress her.
"You're so handsome," she sighed as Jim finished undressing and stood looking tall and proud in his nudity.
"Handsome enough to kiss? If so, come and be embraced by the naked man who is going to make love to you in a little while."
She hurried to him and thrilled as he held her tightly, his stiff penis poking at her while he kissed her, his hand moving slowly up and down her back and igniting new fires along the whole length of her spine.
Jim took her to the bed, sat on the edge and, while she stood between his legs, unbuttoned her blouse. While doing so, he spoke of how anxious he was to see, feel and kiss her beautiful breasts.
Her blouse parted and as he slipped it off her arms, her proud young breasts jutted even more boldly. With a low cry, he pressed his face between the cups and inhaled the fragrance of her body while enjoying the silken feel of her skin.
His hands were strong yet gentle as they caressed the well-filled cups of her simple white bra.
"I have nicer bras and panties in the bag," she told him.
"Then we'll leave them there, Heather. Nothing could be as beautiful as your body."
She sighed as his hands went to the side fastener of her skirt. Even though he had previously had his face between her thighs, there was still a new and exciting intimacy to feeling him unfasten her skirt and pull it slowly down her thighs, only her sheer, white nylon panties covering that portion of her body, his eyes boring through the fabric warmly.
As he tossed her skirt onto a chair, Jim took the girl onto the bed, kissed her with passion, then reached around her to unhook her bra. She felt him tremble as the cups fell away from lush breasts which needed no bra.
His hands held them both for a little while, then he was holding her tightly as he seemed to be trying the impossible task of sucking one completely into his mouth.
After a long time, he left her erected nipples and moved down to take her panties off.
"Oh yes, Jim," she panted, "strip me naked and do everything to me. Oh God, look, you're taking my panties off for me."
"Yes, darling, I'm taking your panties off and eating your beautiful young body with my hot eyes. Can you feel them on your sweet little curly bush? It looks so lovely against your pure white belly and thighs."
Her panties vanished and he was embracing her firm, smooth buttocks as he pressed his face against the bottom of her belly, his tongue playing in the foliage of her mons veneris, his hot breath almost burning her as her body kept jerking up toward him, hungrily.
The man played with her for just a little while longer; then, positioning her so that she lay across the bed with her buttocks just over the edge, he knelt on the floor and raised her legs as he parted them wide to bare her crotch.
Although his mouth had grazed there before, it had been dark in the car and he had not really seen it. Now he saw it clearly in all its tender, virgin beauty.
Looking between her legs, Heather saw the man lick his lips and knew that she would feel his mouth between her thighs again, sensed that he would bring her to climax with his mouth and tongue again. She felt so weak at that moment, that she wondered if she could survive an orgasm that way.
"Oh, Jim ... Jim ... Jim..." she cried out as his mouth pressed down on her vulva. "You're kissing me ... you're sucking me. I can see you."
After that, while his tongue lashed and licked inside her body, Heather heard other words being cried out, but didn't know or care what they meant. The only thing in the world that meant anything to her was what was happening as Jim's face worked in her crotch, driving her out of her mind with lust.
She climaxed so strongly that it frightened her and she was sure she lost consciousness though not sure whether for seconds or hours. When she returned from the wild rocket trip, she was lying on her tummy and the man was fondling and kissing her silken buttocks.
As always, his touch was so gentle yet so exciting. She tried to tell him about it, but words were not easy to come by, so she said it with sighs for a little while.
Telling her she should rest for a little while, Jim opened a bag, produced a bottle of whiskey, poured some with water and gave her a little sip. It had an unpleasant taste, but felt warm as it went down her throat.
"Was I good, Jim? I mean truly good, like a woman?" she asked quietly.
"You were better than that, darling. You were more than woman, you were a mixture of angel and whore. You'll be even better when I make love to you. I can sense it."
"I know it will hurt, Jim, but I'll try not to cry too much. Please don't be angry with me if I do, though."
"I couldn't be angry with you, darling," he told her, tenderly. "Don't think too much about pain, it will spoil the beauty of it for you. It may not even hurt as much as you expect. Hymens are all different, some are easy, some are tough. I've felt yours and I suspect it isn't very tough at all."
Heather wondered whether he was just saying that to make her feel better, but she didn't really care, didn't care how much it hurt as long as he opened the secret path into her body so that he could use it again and again.
After a little while, he put his drink aside and came back to play with her. She watched as he rolled a condom onto his big penis making it look so different, bigger even.
While he bent over her, one hand stroking gently in the moist warmth of her crotch, Heather reached for his rubber sheathed penis and was delighted at the feel of it in her hand.
"He's going where it's very wet and warm," she observed, "so he has to wear a rain coat."
Jim laughed deeply at that and, assured that her vagina and vulva were as wet and lubricated as possible, he moved between her legs. She waited for the feel of his penis pushing into her, stretching her, but it didn't come just then.
Instead, she saw his face coming down to hers, felt his mouth press onto her mouth, then, as the kiss built in its intensity, his penis moved to the pink portal of her body.
It stretched her a little, but it didn't really hurt. There was more of his weight on her body and she welcomed it by tightening her arms around him and pulling him down even more heavily on her.
His penis was pushing into her, then it stopped and she guessed he had reached the barrier. She tried hard to keep her body relaxed so that she would be more aware of every tiny sensation.
"You're the most beautiful creature in the world, my darling," he told her as he pushed steadily against the hindering membrane. "At this moment, I love you, Heather."
As he spoke her name, he lunged hard and the barrier gave. There was a flash of almost blinding pain, then it passed and she felt his penis burying itself in the depths of her body.
"Oh Jim, you're in. Oh God," she panted, "I've got all of you in me. Show me, Jim, darling, do it to me. Make me know what it's like."
"Yes, you little darling," he panted, "I'll make you know so that you'll never forget. Get ready, my beautiful woman, I'm going to ride you."
She sighed, a sigh that turned into a groan, and then Jim drew his penis back and began stroking through a slow, strong act of sexual intercourse, keeping the strokes slow and long so that the girl could savor each one completely before he moved into the next one.
She panted broken words of ecstasy, ignoring the burn of remembered pain in her vagina, and heard him panting loudly in her ear. At one point, he stopped stroking and, with his penis buried deeply in her, he kissed her mouth with wet, hot passion.
"You're getting it, darling," he reminded her in a hot whisper. "My stiff cock is deep in your lovely body. Feel it move back and forth, darling. Is it stretching you?"
"Oh yes, yes," she cried. "Oh it's so good, darling. Don't stop. Keep on doing it to me like this forever."
For a while longer, they exchanged trembling words, broken phrases as their sweat mingled and trickled along her satiny smooth body, then the pace of the man's stroking was suddenly stepped up.
"Oh yes," she panted, "yes, Jim, fast ... fast and hard ... ooh that feels so good. Yes, darling, be rough with me, ride me hard ... ooh you're driving it right through me..."
She was still panting hot words of encouragement when she heard him groan, felt his whole body tense and shudder, then he too was panting as his body jerked and twitched in her crotch and she knew he had finished the job.
He collapsed on top of her and she ran a hand through his wet, tangled hair.
In that moment, one of the secrets of sensitive womanhood was opened to the trembling girl. Her man had been strong and rugged in the act of love, and now, his body spent, his lust slaked, it was not a man she was holding, but a baby and she held him tenderly, maternal instincts replacing the lust she had experienced seconds before.
"I must be heavy on you, darling," he said as he began to push up.
"No," she cried, her arms tightening around him and pulling him back onto her, "don't leave me. Even though it isn't big and hard now, it feels so good in me. Just lie on me as you are while I try to believe that this really happened."
Man and girl enjoyed a long weekend of pure, beautiful sex. Both knew it was not love in the sense of a demanding love, but just two people sharing their bodies each with the other and sharing love.
When it was over, there were no tears, no regrets, they had flown to the heights many times and in many ways. There would be other stolen moments between them and, later, other men in her life, she knew. She hoped that at least one of them would be as good as Jim.
Heather is a twenty-five-year-old wife and mother now, enjoying a happy marriage. She and her husband have a good sexual adjustment and she wouldn't, she told me, want to change anything in her life.
"If I hadn't discovered the joy of sex with Jim," she explained, "I might have been introduced to it by some green boy who didn't understand what he was doing and might have left me fearing or hating sexual intercourse. The way I did it was best, I'm positive."
Heather received no argument from me at all.
CASE HISTORY 6
Linda had been a widow for seven months, and while her marriage had not been great and she had not really loved her husband in some years, there was still the shock of suddenly being alone.
She had reached that feminine milestone of forty, the era when the first figure of her age became a frightening four rather than the three that had still seemed young.
Her one child, a daughter attending junior college in Europe, wanted to spend her summer vacation touring Europe and return directly to Switzerland for the next term. Linda didn't object. She and the girl had never been very close anyway.
Linda decided to go to their summer cottage for the summer in hopes that a few months of lazing in the sun, swimming and reading would help her achieve a new outlook.
The one thing that bothered her was that while she called it the cottage, it was a big, stone building on a private island, and contained four bedrooms as well as other living space.
When her husband and friends had been there with her, it was a pleasant place, but alone, she feared, it could turn out to be a nightmare. She found her solution when she heard a radio appeal sponsored by a service club, asking people who could, to take along a child from the slums when they went to their cottages for the summer.
Noting the number, she phoned right away, explained her circumstances and suggested two boys in their early teens who could help with the work of maintaining the place, but would have plenty of time for swimming, fishing and all the rest the place offered.
At the appointed time on Saturday morning, one boy, a fourteen-year-old named Kevin, arrived. A few minutes later, Linda received a call from the mother of the other saying that her son had decided he wanted to stay home with his friends instead.
Linda was stunned. She wanted to leave before noon that day, and with the following Monday a holiday, the placement office would not be open until Tuesday. No matter what, she decided, she wasn't going to delay her trip that long.
When she told Kevin that the other boy had backed out, his face lit up with a smile of sheer . delight.
"You mean you don't mind going alone?" she asked.
"That's the way I like it. Where I live there's nothing but kids. I think this is great."
Elated, Linda finished packing the station wagon, with a lot of eager assistance from the boy, and they were off for the summer.
During the long drive, Linda discovered that Kevin did not at all fit her concept of what a slum area boy would be like. More than just being polite and quiet, she learned that he was extremely sensitive, that he didn't run with the neighborhood gangs and had no real friends at all.
All he wanted in life, she discovered before the end of the trip, was to grow up and be free to get away from the district he hated, to find a job somewhere else, and enjoy living quietly, with privacy.
Reaching the lake, Linda parked the car at the Marina and Kevin insisted on carrying all their equipment to the boat, not allowing her to carry anything more than her purse.
Linda had to operate the boat, but he assured her he would learn that very quickly. The boy was more than impressed as she guided the boat around the point and turned it into the deep cove at the end of which he saw, what was to him, the mansion.
"What's it like to be rich?" he asked, obviously impulsively.
"I'm not..." she began, then stopped herself, realizing that to him she was very rich.
"I guess that's one of the things we can discuss during the long, lazy days ahead, Kevin," she told him seriously. "For the time being, I'm not saying it's bad to have money, but you're looking at a lonely, unhappy, empty woman."
When Kevin saw the threat of tears in her eyes, he said nothing more, but pretended not to notice as he concentrated on viewing the house and the whole cove area.
Linda docked the boat without her usual deft skill, and once more, Kevin insisted on carrying everything up to the house. Some of the cartons were heavy, but he didn't show any sign that it bothered him.
The woman had packed ice and cold drinks in a cooler, so as soon as Kevin finished carrying the things, they were able to relax over cool drinks, his a Coke, hers a three-ounce Scotch and water with ice.
Suugesting that the water in the cove should be nice and warm, Linda announced that they would both go for a swim to get rid of the perspiration and grime of the long drive. When he told her he didn't have any trunks, she assured him there was a plentiful supply in the bedroom.
After they had changed in adjoining bedrooms, they met back in the big front room which overlooked the entire cove area.
"Gee, you're really beautiful," he said, with feeling as Linda walked into the room in her bathing suit and sandals. "I'm sorry," he appended immediately, "maybe it was wrong to say that."
"It was far from wrong, Kevin," she told him with warmth in her tone and her smile. "A woman is always very pleased to hear such a compliment. Especially..." she cut if off there.
"Let's go get wet," she said, in forced joviality that even the boy could see.
Outside the cottage, she impulsively took his hand and he showed no displeasure at that at all as they walked down the sloping lawn to the beach. Kevin stood back for her to walk out onto the dock ahead of him, then watched as her body, perfectly poised, went into a graceful dive off the low board and flashed cleanly into the clear water.
"I really should get out of this wet suit," Linda said as they returned to the house, "but I'm so tired."
"Please don't," he said impulsively, with such feeling that the woman couldn't miss the heartfelt pleas in his message. "I'm sorry," he said then.
"Now you listen to me, Mister Kevin," she said, slipping an arm around his shoulder. "We're going to be together here for two months. We both have to feel free to say whatever we feel like saying without always saying I'm sorry. Would you like me to keep my bathing suit on because you like the way I look in it?"
"Yes."
"Then of course I'll leave it on. A woman-likes to have her figure admired. You can do that as much as you like and you surely won't offend me.
"Thanks," Kevin replied simply, but she knew he meant it.
"I've got a better idea, Kevin. This suit is uncomfortable, so I'll go take it off, dry myself and put on another bathing suit. You may do the same if you feel like it."
The boy's obvious admiration of her body gave Linda a warm glow as she stripped off the wet suit and toweled herself until she was dry and warm again. If he got excited about me in my bathing suit, she thought, I wonder how he'd react at seeing me as I am now. She began to picture the boy toweling her nude body, then turned the thought off as being inappropriate and, under the circumstances, dangerous.
When I start getting worked up about fourteen-year-old boys, she told herself, I'd better do something about finding a man. Making a mental note to check with the summer residents to find out who was around, she went to the drawer for another bathing suit.
The bikini she selected was sufficient to prevent technical nudity in that her nipples and mons veneris were covered, but the effect could be as stimulating as nudity, she saw as she checked in the mirror.
Linda paused, considered changing into something else, then decided she would go along with it. She rationalized this by reasoning that the boy should have as much fun as possible before going back to his slum environment.
One look at the boy's face as she returned to the front room told Linda that, from the boy's viewpoint, she had made an inspired choice of costume.
Moving to the bar to pour a drink, Linda found herself walking in as provocative a manner as possible. She knew she shouldn't, but her body refused to cooperate with her mind as she felt the boy's eyes on her.
The bikini covered only a portion of her buttocks, and she knew his eyes were feeding on the exposed portions of nether cheeks.
"Do you like this suit, Kevin?" she asked as she turned to face him.
"Do I ever! I never saw anything like it. I never saw that much of a woman before. You're really something."
Although he did his best to hide it with his crossed hands, Linda spotted easily that he had an erection. Her previous excitement turned to hot passion at the thought of what her partially revealed body was doing to the young boy.
"Maybe I really should put on something else," she heard herself say aloud although she'd thought she was only thinking the words.
"Oh no," the boy cried as he jumped from his chair and threw his arms around her, their bodies pressing as he held her in arms that were surprisingly strong.
"It's better, dear," she told him, patting his head as she made a final, mighty effort to bring the situation back under control.
He didn't resist when she pushed him away and went into her room to change again.
Linda expected that, considering his aroused state, the boy would go into his room and masturbate, but to her surprise, she heard the front door open and close quickly. Concerned, she hurried into the front room and watched as he ran down to the dock and dove into the water.
When she saw that Kevin was swimming too far out into the cove, Linda felt fingers of panic clutch at her, she hurried down to the dock and into the boat. Just as she was ready to start the motor, she saw him turn and begin to circle back.
With a sigh of relief, she sat in the boat, her hand on the switch that would turn on the power to permit her to get to him in a hurry if anything went wrong.
And then the boy was at the dock and she was giving him a hand to climb up. He was obviously tired and there was a look of pain on his face.
"You had me worried, Kevin," she said without anger. "You really swam too far out."
"I know," he replied sheepishly. "I was busy thinking and didn't realize how far out I was. I scared myself too."
"Let's go back to the cottage and get you dried off. It's beginning to turn a bit cool."
They walked back to the cottage in silence, her hand warm on his shoulder. Linda got a towel from the stack and began to dry him off.
She had almost finished when she heard the sound of a cry that he hadn't been able to hold back.
"What's the matter, dear?" she asked gently.
He said nothing, but there were tears in his eyes as he looked up into her face. With an arm around his waist, Linda led him to the couch. As she drew him closer to her, her arm still around him, he fell with his face against her breast as the flood of tears broke loose.
While the boy cried on, warm tears trickling down between her breasts, Linda held his shivering body, saying nothing as she waited for him to cry it out. There would be time to talk later about his upset, much of which, she guessed, was of her making.
"I ... I'm going to have to go home," he sobbed as his supply of tears ran out.
"Do you want to go home, Kevin? I thought you liked being here and away from home."
"I like it. I like it too much, but I think I have to go. You don't have to drive me back, I can hitch a ride easy."
"Before we begin making that kind of plan, Kevin, we have a whole lot of things to talk about. I don't want you to go, and I really think everything can be worked out nicely so that we'll have a nice long summer together."
He gave her a look of thanks, but there was sadness in it too, too much sadness for a fourteen-year-old to carry alone, Linda thought.
"Ready to talk now, Kevin?"
"I ... I guess, but I don't know what to say."
"Oh I think you'll manage with a little help, and I'll give you all I can. Just to get started, does it have something to do with me and my bathing suits?"
"Yes. Even before that, in the car on the way up."
"I don't understand. Please tell me about in the car."
"Well, you know, when you were driving, sometimes your dress would get pulled up and I could see your legs and your nylons, you know."
"And you got worked up?"
"Yes."
"But you've surely seen women's legs before, dear, and besides, I know I wasn't showing that much."
"Yes, but you're different. I don't know. like you're so pretty and friendly and, I don't know, nice. That makes it different. I can't really explain it."
"You're doing fine so far, dear, and we have lots of time to talk. Don't try to rush it. Let me ask you a few questions first so that I can understand you better and help both you and me. Please answer them and don't be embarrassed."
She probed deeply but gently, keeping his face against the silken warmth of her breast so that he felt comforted and did not have to look into her face when answering her questions.
Haltingly at first, then with increased ease, he told of masturbating and dreams of clean, well-dressed, smiling women, their bodies shapely and scented.
He saw them on the streets when he walked downtown as he often did after school, he saw them in the department stores, but not too often because the store security people kept telling him to get out, suspecting he was there to steal.
"You poor baby, no wonder you're so anxious to grow up and get away."
"But you see, you're the first one. You talk to me and you're nice to me and you're beautiful and everything."
"And yet you want to leave?"
"Don't you see, I have to. When I look at your pretty body and your smooth skin, and I smell that nice clean smell, I ... I want to reach out and touch you."
"But we're human beings, Kevin. It's natural for us to express ourselves by touching, it's one of the senses. Still, I suppose what you mean is that you want to touch my thighs and my breasts and that sort of thing. That is it, isn't it?"
"Yes. I can't help it."
"Oh Kevin," she sighed deeply. "Perhaps it was a mistake, my bringing you here alone, but if there was a mistake it was mine, not yours."
"But you didn't do anything wrong, Linda. You were just being kind. I guess there's something wrong with me. Maybe I deserve to live where I do, I just don't fit in with nice people."
"Don't you dare say or even think that again, Kevin," she scolded for the first time. "Right from the start, I've seen what a fine boy you are."
Kevin didn't reply, but his wet, shining eyes thanked the woman far more effectively.
"All right, Kevin," she went on, "to the extent that we have a problem, I caused it so it's up to me to work it out."
"But you didn't," the boy protested, "you were just nice to me, that's all."
"That isn't all, Kevin. Sit up and I'll show you what I mean." He did and she went on talking.
"Look at my breasts in this skimpy little bra. Go on, look. This is probably the closest you've ever been to a woman's naked breasts, and the same applies to my bottom, doesn't it?"
"Yes."
"You see, dear, without meaning to, I've been teasing you. Any normal man looking at me in this outfit would want to touch me.
"Try not to be shocked, or afraid, dear, but I'm going to do something pretty drastic. I'm going to make this a wonderful summer for the two of us, one that neither of us will ever forget.
When vacation is over, you'll go back to your home knowing what the other side of life is, knowing that there is beauty and tenderness in it, that you belong in it and that you will make the trip when you finish your education. You can understand that, can't you?"
"I don't know, it all seems like a dream, like it can't really happen, at least not to me."
"Darling, this whole summer is going to seem like a dream to the two of us, a beautiful, exciting, happy dream that will give us both a fresh start. Come with me, dear."
She led the boy into the bedroom, then, turning to face him, smiled as she reached behind her to unfasten the bra top of her bikini.
"Here are my breasts, Kevin," she said as she dropped the scrap of fabric to the floor. "I'm not going to tease you with them; look at them all you like, feel them, kiss them, do anything you want with them."
She got onto the bed and held her arms out to him. He froze to the spot for a moment, then with a little cry from deep inside him, he hurried to her and took her breasts in his hands.
"Oooooh," it came out as a cry, "they're so silky and warm. Please don't make me stop too soon."
"I'm not going to make you stop, dear. I'm enjoying this too. You have gentle, sensitive hands. Here, let me show you how to make the nipples stand out."
She guided a thumb and finger to one nipple and showed him how to rub with them. He gasped in astonishment as the nipple turned darker in color, hardened and grew longer as he watched this alchemy of sexual arousal.
'You see, dear," she whispered, "it's the same as what happens to your penis. It has grown hard and gotten longer, hasn't it?"
"Yes. That happened a long time ago."
"That's healthy, dear. In a little while, you'll take your trunks off and let it out so I can see it and feel it."
With a hand on the back of his head, Linda guided the boy's face to her other breast.
"Now fix my other nipple with your lips, dear," she told him. After that, take as much of my breast as you can get in your mouth and suck nice and hard. Ooh, that's nice," she sighed as he followed her instructions. That's it, that's it, oooh, yes, dear, suck ... suck..."
After the boy had fondled her breasts some more, having sucked until her nipples were too sensitive for comfort, the woman pulled him close and brushed his ear with moist lips.
"Would you like to see the rest of my body now?" Linda whispered.
"Do you mean it?"
"Of course I mean it. I'll stand up and take this off. Which side would you like to see first?" she asked as she got off the bed and stood close, "front or back?"
"I guess the back," he replied after a long, pregnant pause. "What I see looks so nice and round and smooth. They're prettier than face cheeks, I think."
"I think so too, dear," she told him as she turned her back, hesitated with her fingers of the tie at the side, then slipped it and dropped the tiny garment to display well formed, firm, silken smooth buttocks.
She heard his trembling cry of delight, then turned slowly smiling as she gave him the more than impressive frontal view.
"I didn't know it looked like that," he gasped as his eyes moved down from her breasts to focus on the light brown, almost golden triangle of foliage, framed by white thighs and smooth, slightly rounded tummy.
"You haven't seen all of it yet, dear," she told him as she came back to the bed and knelt up with her knees wide apart to open her crotch. "If you were to lie on your back with your head between my legs and look up, I think you'd be rather pleased with the view."
Kevin couldn't have known that with true feminine instinct she was displaying her vulva in the most enticing manner possible, with her smooth thighs framing it, her well rounded buttocks providing a stunning backdrop, but he could and did know that it was the most exciting thing he had ever seen or even dreamed of.
"Touch anywhere you like, dear," she told the trembling boy as she felt his warm breath and was warmed all over.
His hands came up to her thighs first, worked their way up over the exciting swells of her satiny buttocks, fondled them warmly for a little while, then came under her to touch her sensitive inner thighs before moving to her vulva which was, by then, even more sensitive, hungering for the touch of his trembling fingers.
Guessing that he was relying on instinct, Linda felt his hand press gently on her vulva then rub it softly. What came next stunned and delighted her as she felt his lips brush her inner thigh.
Turning his head from side to side, the boy kissed hotly from thigh to thigh until his lips touched softer pink lips in a kiss which wrung a groan of passion from the woman whose whole body jerked and trembled in response.
Linda experienced a compelling urge to teach the boy cunnilingus right then, but she told herself he had already waited too long. Reaching down over him, she tugged at his trunks and he raised his bottom from the bed to allow her to drag them down.
"My poor Kevin," she sighed, "how ready you are. Come, dear, we're going to make it feel good inside my warm body." As she said the words, one soft hand closed around his erect penis.
Fearing he would ejaculate, she released his penis with a little sigh as she turned over on the bed, lying with long, beautiful legs raised and parted as she beckoned him to come to her for the act of love.
And it was love as the warm, gentle woman guided him to her, welcoming him with warm arms and legs as he brought his stiff young penis into her crotch and, with a little effort, found the moist path and pushed it into her body.
"Ooh, how good it feels, my lover," she told him.
Kevin gave a little cry of joy in response as his penis savored the soft warmth of her vagina while she told him how to move it slowly in and out, holding his hips as she guided him through the act.
That she didn't achieve orgasm before his ejaculation didn't bother her, she had known he couldn't last long in view of his intense arousal. There would be time for many orgasms during the long summer, she told herself.
That evening, woman and boy showered together and Kevin was more than delighted to lather and rinse her lovely body. When they retired for the night, it was to her bed where the boy again accepted the gift of her body, eagerly.
He was delighted when she taught him how to find her clitoris with his tongue and to work on in, his face nestled in the warmth of her thighs until he licked her to orgasm.
Each day of pleasure led to another of even greater joy. Some days, she would dress completely and allow him to take her clothes off slowly, a little at a time, Kevin delighting in the sight and feel of exotic lingerie and sheer nylons until the lingerie was gone and her body delighted him in many ways.
There was sadness for both of them as the end of their summer idly approached, but there was warmth too. During a touching, final night of love, each promised the other that there would be no tears in the morning when it would be the end, time to leave their island. Still, there were quietly shed tears in the dark silence of the night.
When Linda let the boy out of her car near his home, understanding why he didn't want her to drive right to his street, each sensed that they would not likely meet again.
Their hands met and held for seconds, then he was gone and not only her car seemed empty to Linda as she watched him walk away, but the whole world.
Later, she told herself that she had given the boy a gift of hope as well as an understanding of the joys of love and tenderness, a reason to want to work at bettering his lot in life and of one day brightening the life of at least one woman. There was no remorse, no guilt.
A few weeks later, her own mind much more in order, Linda accepted a good job in another city and moved away. She didn't need the income, but she did need to keep occupied.
Following a two year affair with a man a few years older than she, Linda married again and is enjoying life. They kept her island property and spend as much time as possible there. When she in
CASE HISTORY 7
Nola had waited a long time for her sixteenth birthday, or at least it had seemed a long time, since that was the date she had set for leaving home.
Home, to Nola, meant drunkenness and almost constant fighting. In their continuing war against each other, her parents paid little attention to her or her younger brother, with the result that Nola had more freedom than she wanted.
Still, it wasn't freedom she wanted, it was love, whether she knew it or not, and there just wasn't any of that to be had in her home.
Near the end of the waiting period, there had been that ugly scene when the boy with whom she was petting lost control and decided he wasn't going to stop when she tried to keep him from getting at her panties.
He was just too strong for her and not only did she lose her panties, but her virginity as well. It was a painful and generally unpleasant experience and it colored her attitude toward sex and males.
After it was over, fearing what he might do, Nola told him she didn't intend to tell anyone what had happened. He refused to give her back her panties, telling her that when he took a girl's cherry he kept her panties as a souvenir to show to his special friends who did the same thing.
"Have you done it that often?" she asked.
"You're the fourth," he told her with a look that added to her fears.
There had been a couple of rape murders of teenage girls around the city in previous months and Nola wondered whether it had happened that way with the victims. Playing it safe, she displayed no anger toward the youth and even told him that she'd go out with him again.
She kept her word by not reporting the rape to either her parents or the police.
On her sixteenth birthday, she skipped school and went job hunting, knowing that her qualifications were limited and prepared to take anything.
Before noon, she had landed a job as a messenger in a big agency where she was assigned to work for a woman who was their fashion consultant.
The woman, whose name was Magda, appeared to be in her early thirties although, with her sophistication, poise and artful use of cosmetics, Nola couldn't really tell. Magda looked hard, at first glance, yet seemed friendly when her new messenger reported to her for approval.
After a few routine questions and answers, Nola was told to report the following morning. There was a minor squabble that evening when she told her parents what she had done and that she planned on moving out soon, but as always, it passed.
Nola liked her boss right from the start. She envied the woman's cool sophistication and perfect poise. When angered or annoyed, Magda would curse anyone who crossed her, yet did so with a stunning composure, always under control. Nola did her work well and quickly and was spared the woman's anger by way of reward.
Each day, after work and a quick snack, Nola would sit in her rented room, reading fashion magazines and trade journals borrowed from the office so that she could learn more about the industry and thus make herself more important, she hoped, to Magda.
Magda saw and was pleased by the girl's admiration of her. In a way, it reminded her of herself many years ago, before she constructed the tough protective shell around herself and learned to cope in a tough world.
She advised Nola on hair styles, cosmetics and clothes, and from time to time, was able to obtain from a client, a dress for Nola, one that she would not have been able to buy out of her meager earnings.
"You're really quite beautiful, Nola," the woman told her during an afternoon lull while they drank coffee in the tastefully furnished private office. "I guess you're very popular with the boys."
"Thank you, but I've had enough of boys for now."
"You seem rather young to be a confirmed old maid," Magda teased. "Have a fight with your current last night?"
"No, I don't have a boy friend. I haven't been out with a boy for more thn a month and I don't intend to either."
A little later, Nola was telling the woman about her experience with the youth who raped her. Magda asked a few questions, and Nola answered them.
"So that was your only sex experience with boys then?" Magda asked.
"Yes, except for necking and that sort of thing. I used to enjoy that, but now I'd be afraid to be alone with a guy."
"Ever played any girl games?" Magda asked, quietly.
"You mean sex? like with dykes?"
"That sort of thing. Lots of girls experiment a little along the way just to find out what it's like," Magda said.
"No, I never did anything like that. Why did you ask? Do I look like that kind or something?" Nola wanted to know.
"I don't know what that kind looks like, dear," Magda replied. "As far as I know, except for the diesel dykes, most of them look just like anybody else. No, I was just wondering what you're going to do for sex in the years ahead if you don't like men and don't play girl games. It doesn't seem to leave very much, does it?" she finished with a warm smile.
"I guess I hadn't thought of it that way," Nola admitted.
The phone rang then and Magda turned to answer it, ending their conversation. A little later, there was an errand to run and then the working day was over.
Alone in her room that evening, Nola had difficulty concentrating on her reading as her mind kept going back to the conversation with Magda. It struck her as being strange that the woman had asked her about having played any lesbian games.
Noting that Magda wasn't married, despite being so beautiful, Nola began to wonder if perhaps the woman was a lesbian. Ignoring the magazine completely, she began to picture the beautiful, raven-haired woman in the embrace of another.
From there, her mind drifted to another scene in which she was in Magda's apartment. The woman wore a filmy negligee as she walked toward her and took her into her arms for a passionate embrace.
They were walking into a bedroom then and Magda was telling her to take her clothes off and get comfortable. She saw the woman reach to untie the sash of her negligee and knew that she was naked under it.
When she snapped out of her daydream, Nola was perspiring and trembling. It frightened her not only that the fantasy had been so real, but even more so, that she had been so aroused by it and still was.
She began to wonder what would happen if she really did find herself in Magda's apartment under those circumstances. It terrified her to think that she could ever become a lesbian and yet, she asked herself, what could be uglier and more terrible than her experience with the youth who raped her then kept her panties as a souvenir to show his friends?
Over the next few days, Nola tried to shake the thought, but it wasn't easy. She found herself wondering what it was like when two women made love. She knew, vaguely, about the act of cunnilingus, but she supposed there were other things as well.
More and more, she spent her days daydreaming as images of women making love kept forming in her mind. They embraced and kissed the way a man and woman would, hands would fondle thighs and breasts, reaching under and inside clothes as the women became more aroused until they began undressing to show their naked bodies to each other.
As a result, her work fell off badly and Magda spoke to her sharply and demanded a return td the old efficiency. Nola tried, but it just wasn't that easy, the daydreams kept recurring and she could never quite turn them off.
"This is the stupidest thing you've done yet," Magda scolded late one afternoon when Nola returned to the office having completely forgotten one errand, "and yet I know you are not stupid. I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask for a replacement for you."
Nola pleaded with the woman not to fire her, to give her another chance, until at last, Magda told her that since she had to stay behind with some extra work that evening, Nola could stay too and she would decide later what the decision would be.
Trembling with fear, Nola went out to get food for them and was careful to ensure that she did everything right. They ate together, talking little, then Magda gave the girl some routine sorting and filing to do to keep her occupied.
Shortly after seven, a woman stopped by Magda's door to tell her she was the last one left on the floor. No sooner had the woman left than Magda pushed her work away from her, got up and walked over to the couch near the window. Before sitting, she drew the drapes closed.
"All right, Nola," she spoke in her usual firm tone, "come here now and we'll decide what we're going to do about you and your daydreaming. You have been daydreaming, I take it?"
"Yes," Nola told her as she approached the couch. "I guess I have."
"Care to tell me what it's about?"
"Please, Magda, I can't."
"Very well, I won't pry, but I do have the right to demand that work is done properly. I won't fire you this time, but I am going to punish you in an effort to snap you out of this slump."
"Yes, Magda, thank you. What are you going to do?"
"I'm going to take you across my lap with your panties down and spank your bare bottom."
"Oh, Magda, no, I'm too big for that."
"You're not too big for me to fire. Besides, since you choose to act like a little girl, I'm going to spank you the same way. Quickly now, are you going to accept your punishment or not?"
"Yes."
"Fine, then pull your panties down, get your dress up and lie over my lap. I'm going to give you a spanking you will not forget for a while. If I spank hard enough, the message may reach your brain."
Lifting her buttocks from the couch, the woman pulled her dress up to her waist, giving the nervous girl a quick view of black lace panties, white thighs and black suspenders, then she sat again, her thighs bare and beautiful.
Nola had begun to reach under her dress for her panties, but she froze, trembling, unable to take her eyes off the smooth, beautiful thighs of the woman.
"I'm waiting, Nola," Magda spoke in an impatient tone.
Hurriedly, nervously, Nola tugged her panties down off her buttocks, furled up her dress above her waist and began to lower herself across the waiting thighs. What was going on in her body and mind frightened her; then, as her bared lower body made contact with the nylon and silk of Magda's thighs, it suddenly became much more frightening and Nola sensed that the woman was aware of it.
Taking her time, Magda pushed the dress higher over the girl's back and pulled her panties a little farther down, her hands brushing lightly over the sensitive skin.
"You have a very pretty little ass, Nola," Magda said as she patted it lightly. "It's a shame I'm going to have to treat it so harshly. Your skin seems very sensitive, I fear you will feel plenty of sting, but go ahead and cry all you like, we're alone on the floor and nobody is going to hear."
Nola began to sob, then she felt the left arm of the woman go around her bared waist, the hand holding her close and firmly. She heard a labored breath, then felt Magda's right hand deliver the first spank.
"Ow," she cried out.
"There are a . . .SPANK ... lot more of those ... SPANK ... to come, dear ... SPANK ... you'll be saying more ... SPANK ... that just before ... SPANK ... I'm finished with ... SPANK ... this pretty little ass ... SPANK ... SPANK..."
Alternately scolding and slapping the nicely rounded nether cheeks of the girl which quickly took on warm color, Magda seemed as completely unruffled as always. The sting and heat in Nola's bottom caused her to squirm as she cried and kicked her legs, the squirming across the firm thighs in turn generating yet another kind of heat, a more frightening one which spread quickly through the crying girl's body.
And then at last the spanking was finished and Nola still lay across the lap of the woman who gently massaged the red, tingling globes.
"You took your spanking very well, dear," Magda told her in a warm, gentle tone, "and I'm pleased you accepted it rather than force me to fire you."
"I ... I couldn't ... sob ... let that happen, Magda, no ... sob ... matter how hard you beat me."
"Then you're going to try to do better from now on?"
"Oh yes, Magda, I promise." Nola finished the promise with a pitiful, wet sniff.
Pulling the girl's panties into place again, Magda paused for a final look at the red cheeks which glowed brightly through sheer white nylon, patted her seat lightly, then helped her to her feet.
Seating Nola on the couch, Magda went to her desk for some tissues which she handed her. The woman sat quietly while Nola dried her eyes as much as possible, blew her nose a couple of times, then began to show signs of recovery.
"We can't let you go home on the bus looking like that," Magda told her, smiling. "Go try the cold water treatment and then I'll drive you home. Oh by the way, I mean cold water on your face only, I want the other set of cheeks to stay hot for a while so you'll remember."
At that, Nola managed a little smile as she turned and hurried from the office, her behind smarting in the hot confinement of her clinging nylon panties.
On the drive home, Nola, surprised at her own words which seemd to pop out of their own volition, assured Magda that she was going to do better and that if she slipped again, she would take her spanking without protest.
"That's what I wanted to hear, dear," the woman told her, taking her right hand off the wheel to pat the firm nylon sheath which showed below the hem of her dress. "I think things will be just fine from now on."
In her room, Nola undressed quickly and, still feeling the post-spanking tingle, checked in the mirror and saw that while much of the original red had passed from her spanked skin, there was a very pretty shade of pink remaining.
As she rubbed her nether cheeks with both hands, savoring the tingle, Nola was shocked to discover that the feeling was a pleasant one and that spanking was not such terrible punishment after all.
It was almost a week later when Nola returned to the office from a few errands and reported to her boss.
"And the bottle of cologne you were supposed to pick up for me?" Magda asked.
Magda, with her experience, read something thrilling in the look of pretended surprise and dismay that came over the girl's pretty face as she admitted that she had forgotten about it.
"Daydreaming again, Nola? So soon after your previous treatment?"
"I ... I guess so," Nola replied, trying to look sad and repentant.
"Are we going to work late again this evening, Nola?"
'I guess..." she paused, Oh please, Magda..."
"Nola," Magda cut her off, "you distinctly promised me you'd take your spanking without protest if you goofed off again."
"I will, Magda. What I meant was, do you have to spank me here, in the office. I'm so afraid someone will come back. I'd just die. I don't know what they'd think."
"Well, dear, I suppose we could go down and do it on the sidewalk. Is that what you had in mind?"
"Please, Magda. Couldn't we," she paused and looked down at her feet, "go to your place, or something."
"Yes, Nola," Magda replied without pausing, "I think that is a very good idea. There is no danger of our being disturbed there."
Instead of working late that evening, Magda closed up her office a half hour early and left, taking Nola with her. She drove faster than usual during the late afternoon traffic and before long, she ushered the girl into her tastefully appointed penthouse apartment.
Telling the girl to wander around and look the place over Magda paused to pour herself a drink before joining Nola on the tour. Nola had expected something pretty imagine, but this was much more than just that, as she told her hostess.
"It must be wonderful to live in a place like this," she said in a dreamy tone.
"It is, I suppose, but nothing is perfect. There were snakes in the Garden of Eden."
When Nola asked the woman what she meant, Magda told her they could talk about it later.
"I'll leave the choice to you, Nola," Magda told her with a trace of a smile, "which comes first, spanking or eating?"
"Spanking, I guess. I'd be too nervous to eat now."
"I thought you looked quite nervous, dear," Magda commented. "But that's strange, having been spanked once you should know it isn't really such dreadful torture. Still, if that's the case, let's put your nerves at rest. I think we'll do it in my bedroom. It has a pleasant atmosphere that seems just right for spanking a pretty little ass like yours."
Telling the girl to walk ahead, Magda followed, smiling hotly as she saw how unsteadily the girl was walking, knowing that her nervousness had nothing to do with being spanked.
"Tell me, Nola," Magda said as she sat on the edge of her bed, the hem of her skirt dragged high over her thighs, "did it embarrass you to have to take your panties down and raise your dress the last time I spanked you?"
"Yes, terribly."
"That's good, embarrassment is an important part of any punishment. I think we'll carry it a little farther this time."
"What do you mean?"
"Strip naked, Nola. No, on second thought, you may leave your garter belt and nylons on."
Nola looked at the woman, her breasts rising and falling heavily, then began to undress. When she removed her bra she felt Magda's eyes on her firm, nicely developed breasts. When she stepped out of her panties, she lost her balance and held the edge of the bed with one hand for a second before she was able to complete the task.
"You're very beautiful, Nola," Magda told her. "I'm going to enjoy having you lie naked across my thighs while I spank you. Do you think you'll enjoy it."
"Ye ... I don't know," Nola corrected herself, her heart pounding in anticipation of the spanking, her mind not able to understand the cravings of her body.
"You look so comfortably informal, dear, I think I'll get more comfortable before we start. After all, spanking can be quite a tiring task and warming to both participants."
Calmly, she opened her dress and took it off. As Nola stared at the mature beauty of the woman's body clad in bra and panties, she felt tears come into her eyes. Magda saw them too.
"You needn't be so afraid, dear," she told the girl. "I'm not going to give you a severe spanking, just a nice brisk bottom warming to put color into your pretty cheeks."
While she talked, she unfastened her bra and removed it. Her panties followed, and as she walked to the bed, the sight of her lush body, made to seem more naked by the black garter belt, suspenders and sheer, dark nylons brought a sob of pure sexual arousal from the girl.
"Come, dear," Magda told her, making no effort to hide her own passion, "Lay your beautiful naked body across my thighs. I'm going to do things to you."
In her eagerness, Nola almost threw herself at the woman. After Magda had adjusted the girl's position to suit her, she began fondling the firm nether cheeks while she gazed at the reflection of their naked bodies in the big mirror.
"You've never been naked with a woman before, have you, Nola?"
"No."
"How does it feel?"
"I can't describe it. I'm all mixed up."
"You may get dressed and leave if you wish, dear. I won't fire you."
"No ... no ... please don't tease me any-cry ... make me feel even hotter than I am ... do anything to me..." She began to cry and at the same time, Magda, knowing that the girl was hers for the taking but enjoying the thought of spanking the lovely young cheeks, commenced spanking.
She didn't spank nearly as soundly as she had done the previous time, just briskly enough to cover the delightful cheeks with a warm pink tint.
But just as Nola's spanking was different this time, so was her crying. Magda, a knowing, experienced lesbian, had heard such cries before and knew that they were coming right from the girl's loins, knew that when she parted the lovely, firm thighs of the girl, she would find that more than her eyes were moist. The thought of gathering up that moisture with her tongue caused her to shudder and dig the tips of her fingers into the firm, fleshy globe under her hand.
"I think that will be enough spanking for now," Magda told her. "Do you want to go home now?"
"No ... no ... no ... spank me ... make me more."
"All right, darling," the woman said warmly as she helped the trembling girl off her lap, "come into my arms and I won't tease you. We'll drive each other out of our minds instead."
There was a quick flurry of naked skin, then woman and girl were rolling on the big bed in passionate embrace, their mouths locked together and mashing hungrily, tongues probing and lashing.
Nola wasn't concerned that her mind couldn't tell her what to do, her body was acting on its own up to that point and, beyond that, she sensed, Magda would take the lead and she would follow, follow all the way even if it involved flight into the wild unknown, in fact, especially if it did.
Despite her innocent ignorance, Nola found that everything went more than smoothly as bodies were fondled, breasts were rubbed, squeezed and sucked, and then, she was crying out in erotic song as a knowing mouth pressed between her thighs to find the burning core of her desire and to drive that desire upward to an even higher peak, one she feared her body would not be able to withstand.
But desire rocketed to a higher level as the delicious, invading mouth produced a tongue which slipped into her body, found her clitoris and made the innocent girl think she was being licked to death.
But if it was death, when orgasm swept over her, then it was warm and wonderful and beautiful and was followed closely by a rebirth into a life that was better than anything Nola had ever known or could ever want to know.
Later, there was conversation and there were kisses as woman and girl got to know each other on a new and wonderfully different basis.
"It took you long enough to make your move, Nola," Magda said as she sat up beside the girl, toying with one of her breasts.
"But, Magda, I'd never done it before. I didn't know what to do. Why didn't you help me?"
"Help you? I spanked you, didn't I? Besides dear, I can't take chances. If some nervous girl ran around the agency screaming rape, it could hurt me. But enough of that, darling, when can you move in?"
"What do you mean?" Nola asked.
"I mean I'm not going to have a sweet little thing like you living in a crummy room somewhere when you could be here with me whenever I want you."
"But what would people at the office think?"
"Really, dear, you are being so silly that I may have to give you another spanking. As far as the office is concerned, you're tired."
"Please tell me what you're talking about," Nola asked, tears returning to her eyes.
Magda carefully explained that she had hired the girl because she wanted a new young girl to keep her bed warm, and had spotted her potential at once.
After a little more conversation, Nola excitedly told the woman that she could move in the following day, which she did.
This is a case where one cannot say, and they lived happily ever after. At the outset, Magda warned that in time, she would find some other tender young beauty and that Nola would have to go.
Until such time though, things are going well between them. Nola is being given an allowance equal to what she would have earned at the agency and, since she has no expenses, she is able to bank it all.
When the time comes for her to leave, she will be wiser and, she is confident, completely able to cope with life. It remains to be seen how realistic she is being.
And yet, the facts of her family background being considered, along with other factors, who is to say that this innocent seductress has not done as well as could be expected?
CASE HISTORY 8
At fifteen, Paul was big, good looking and athletic. He could, and frequently did, pass for seventeen or eighteen. He was the only child of an older couple who lived in a middle class suburban area.
That he could do any wrong was out of the question. If he had ever doubted his superiority, his parents would have put his mind at rest, but he rarely if ever had doubts.
In baseball, basketball and football, he was the best, even playing above his age group. His father, a department manager in a big chain department store had enjoyed no excitement or glory in his own life and lived vicariously through his outstanding son.
He attended every game his son played, and if Paul fouled or took a called third strike, his voice could be heard above all others assuring the boy that the officials were wrong and that he had been robbed.
Girls made eyes at him, but that was all Paul needed or wanted, they were young and silly, he was a super star on his way up. He accepted their cheers, smiles and sighs of adulation, but they were only kids. His recognition in all other aspects came from adults and so, when it came to that particular adulation which the female can bestow, he sensed that there too, he wanted adult, nor juvenile recognition.
When other boys boasted about a hot petting session with some girl the previous evening, he would draw himself up to his full, athletic stature and hint vaguely about his most recent experience with a married woman whom, he assured all who cared to listen, they would know if he mentioned her name.
At that point in his life, it was pure bluff. like the rest of his compatriots, his sexual demands were met by hand in the time honored manner of masturbation.
But just as he was best in everything else, Paul was also best in bluffing and his reputation spread, in time, reaching beyond his peers to find adult ears which perked up at the suggestion that Paul was making out with suburban wives.
The men, generally, laughed at it and dismissed it as boastful gossip. The women were not so critical, they kept the rumor not just alive, but growing, each wondering which of her friends had lured the muscular boy into bed and how good he had been.
They expressed outrage, but the whispers indicated anything but that. It would seem more likely that in most cases where a woman spoke in condemnatory terms about the evil married woman who would dare to corrupt an innocent juvenile, she was wondering why Paul had chosen some other woman when she had so much more to offer.
But what was much more important in this case, is that Paul himself came to believe in his legend. When he masturbated, it was not with lascivious thoughts about the shapeliest girl in the area, but about her mother, a mature woman who would drop her girdle in a moment to welcome him into her bed.
In baseball, his best game, Paul played third base. From that position, he could look up into the stands, located much closer to the diamond in little league ball than in the major variety, and take advantage of the fact that women sitting on bleacher seats forget that while they are watching the field, the players can watch the bleachers between plays.
Because he lived in the area and knew all the people, he knew which women wore girdles, panty girdles, panties, and the odd ones who daringly wore nothing.
After each game, while the men patted him on the back and talked about this play and that, of the importance of one hit he made or a fielding play he had pulled off, he aimed his best smiles at the women, sensing that they were thinking of things other than home runs or double plays and that all he needed was an opportunity to get one of them alone to prove that his prowess went beyond baseball, to more adult games.
Each time he masturbated while enjoying in fantasy, the erotic favors of some mature woman, he became more and more confident that reality was there waiting to be picked up if he could only find the way.
Although he could have been the most popular kid in the neighborhood, he chose to be a loner. His attitude toward them made it easy for them to leave him alone.
At night, when others were congregating around the various hamburger places, Paul would take long walks through the subdivision where he lived. He watched every lighted window, always hoping to see an undressed woman, but though from time to time he got a glimpse of a woman in her bra or nightie, he never saw what he wanted, a naked female.
For all his reputation and his boasting, Paul was still a member of that legion of boys who never have seen the female form undraped.
It was on one of these walks that he ran into Olive, the woman who always sat opposite his third base position, didn't wear panties, and from time to time parted her legs when he looked in her direction.
It thrilled him to see her white thighs and crotch, but the distance was too great to provide him with a detailed look at her vulva.
"Where are you headed, Paul?" she asked as she crossed the street to join him.
"Nowhere, just walking. I do just about every night."
"Mind if I join you?"
When he told her he'd be pleased, she walked along with him. Olive soon saw that off the baseball diamond, he was anything but a conversationalist. As a result, she had to do most of the talking.
"I'm surprised your not doing your walking with a girl," she said.
"No thanks, they're all too silly and full of giggles."
"That's strange, Paul. You seem quite comfortable with the women around the ball park."
"That's different, they're women. I like women but I don't like girls."
"I've heard quite a bit about your reputation with the wives around the district, Paul. From all I hear, I'm surprised you have enough strength to hit a baseball or run to first base."
Paul accepted her continuation of his reputation and they talked for a while longer. When she brought the subject back to his exploits with married women, he began to accept her tribute, then stopped her.
"Damn it," he almost groaned the words, "it isn't true at all. I've never made out with a woman or a girl in my life, I've never even seen one bare naked."
"Paul," she gasped, "I do believe you're telling the truth."
"It's the truth, all right, even though I don't like it," he grumbled.
For a little while, they walked along in silence, neither knowing what to say, Paul's mind burning with desire as he guessed that she had no panties on and that all he would have to do was run his hand up under her dress and he would be able to touch what he wanted.
"Olive," he startled the woman by using her first name as he caught her arm, "please walk in the field with me and let me look."
"Hold on, Paul," she told him, "Let me think a minute."
As the shock passed, excitement set in for the woman. The star athlete of the district, the boy with the reputation for having knocked off more local wives than could be counted, was confessing his innocence to her and begging her to go into the field with her.
She had enjoyed teasing him during games by allowing him to see her crotch. How much more exciting it could be, Olive reasoned, to go to the field with him and see what happened there.
For a moment, she thought of the danger that he would boast about it later, then realized that according to the legend he had already scored with half the wives around anyway and if anything were whispered about her, she could dismiss it as just that, a legend.
"All right, Paul, let's go."
Less than two blocks away was the field, a right of way for a power line and was seldom used, especially at night because of the darkness. They covered the short distance quickly, went far enough into the field to avoid headlights of passing cars, then stopped.
"Have you got panties on?" he asked, breathless with excitement.
"You should know better than that, Paul. Why don't you pull my skirt up and find out for yourself?"
Dropping to his knees in front of her, he hurriedly pulled her skirt up. In the darkness of the night he saw the whiteness of her body and the dark triangle of pubic hair.
"Here, Paul," she told him, "I'll hold my skirt so you can use your hands to feel me up."
Accepting the offer greedily, Paul began making erotic dreams come true as he fondled her tummy, buttocks and thighs, then, when she moved her feet apart, he moved a hand into her crotch.
When he tried to peer into it, he found himself foiled again, this time, close as he was, darkness just didn't permit the clear view he wanted so desperately.
"Would you like to see my titties too, Paul?" she asked.
"Yeah, I sure would."
Dropping her skirt, she pushed her sweater up and unfastened her bra. Pulling both garments up, she gave him her breasts to see and feel.
"Wow," he gasped as he reached for her breasts, white in the darkness of the night, silky and firm under his hands as he fondled them both.
"Couldn't we ... we, you know?" he asked.
"Damn it, Paul, I'm really in the mood for it, but if we lay here, I'll be so full of grass all over my clothes that anybody taking one look at me will know what I've been doing."
"There must be a way, Olive," he pleaded.
"I know, Paul, I know. Wait a minute, since this will be your first, let's make it really good. Let's postpone it until tomorrow. Can you cut afternoon classes?"
"Sure, that's easy. Where will we go?"
Olive gave him the name of a hotel and they arranged to meet outside where she would give him her room number and would go up ahead while he followed.
"You'll really be there, Olive?" I'll be there, don't worry. For now though, let's do something to make you feel better," she told him as she found the zipper of his fly and slipped it down.
Reaching inside, she found his erect penis and took it out while he squirmed at the intimate touch of her hand.
You have a nice one, Paul," she whispered, "it's going to feel real good when you stick it in me tomorrow. Just think about that."
"I am," he assured her.
"Now Paul," she went on, "Let's face it. The minute I leave you tonight, you're going to pull yourself. I think it would be much better if I did it for you, don't you?"
"Shouldn't I save it for tomorrow?"
"There's no way you're going to save it and you know it, Paul. Besides, you'll have lots tomorrow. Don't you like the idea of a woman's hand doing it instead of your own?"
"Oh, yeah, I sure do."
She had been standing in front of him, but moved to stand beside him.
"Now, Paul, let's make this the best hand job you ever had. I'll pull you nice and slow and you can add to the fun by putting your hand up my dress and feeling me up."
Paul quickly got a hand on her buttocks and she kept her legs wide apart so that he could move the hand down into her crotch from time to time.
Olive kept her promise by masturbating him very slowly, making the thrill last while the boy added to her arousal with the hand under her dress, the hand that kept rubbing, patting, squeezing and moving, making her want to cry out for more than that.
"Ooh, I'm coming," he panted.
Squeezing his penis, she gave a few fast strokes, then felt his body quiver as he spurted his semen into the darkness.
"Oooh, that was good," he sighed.
"Great, Paul, but I'm still up in the air. Wait until I fix myself."
While the boy watched in fascination, she pushed a hand down over the slope of her belly, found her clitoris with a finger and began masturbating. Until that moment, Paul had thought masturbation was strictly a male game, but what he saw and heard when she climaxed assured him that the female got as much pleasure out of it as the male.
She confirmed that for him as they left the field and started toward her home. She also promised that she would teach him many other things about sex the following day.
Cutting classes had never bothered Paul, but he had never done it for as good a reason, he told himself as he waited for her outside the hotel. Ten minutes before the appointed time, he saw her walk out of the hotel, smiling and dressed better than ever. There was an exciting suggestion of perfume as she passed close and whispered her room number before turning and going back inside through the entrance around the corner.
Checking his watch at about ten second intervals, the boy couldn't believe that time could move so slowly. When he had waited four minutes instead of the promised five, he walked into the hotel, trying to hide his excitement.
"You really look great," he told Olive as she admitted him to the room, a warm, excited smile on her face.
"You'll think I look better in a little while, I'll bet," she told him. "Now take me in your arms and give me a nice, horny kiss. See if you can get me worked up. If you can't, I won't feel like taking my clothes off and doing anything."
It was strictly bluff, since Olive's thighs had been rubbing together hotly as she went up to the room earlier, but it did inspire the boy to crush her in his strong arms and give her a kiss that kept her trembling all the way through.
"Ooh, Paul," she sighed as she moved out of his arms, "with a little of the right kind of training, you're going to be great."
Without waiting to be told, Paul took the woman into his arms for another kiss, this time while their mouths mashed, he had a hand up the back of her dress, discovering that she was wearing panties.
The motion of his hand kept her tummy rubbing against him, feeling the surging strength of his erection until their kiss ended and she stepped back and took her dress off.
Paul gaped at the exciting beauty of the woman in matching black bra and sheer panties. The cups of her bra pushed creamy white globes upward to form a narrow valley between, one he wanted to push his fingers into.
"Let me see you naked, Paul," she told him in a low, erotic tone. "There's plenty for you to look at while you undress."
Turning, she walked slowly toward the window to give him a view of big buttocks, covered but not hidden by the sheer panties. The cleavage of her bottom was teasingly shown, a shadowy valley which seemed to invite him to put his face into it.
He stripped quickly and posed proudly, his body strong and well muscled, his penis no less strong as it stood with pride.
When Paul walked to her, Olive held out her arms and he wrapped his around her. Olive put a hand between them and pressed his penis upward against her tummy. While they kissed, Paul first felt her buttocks through her panties, then slipped a hand inside to caress the warm, smooth skin of the very firm, cheeks.
"I'm feeling very lazy today, Paul," she whispered, moist lips nuzzling his ear. "Would you be a dear and take my bra off for me?"
Mashing her full breasts against his chest, she sighed as she felt his fingers trembling against her back while he fought the hooks, learning that the unfamiliar task of unfastening a woman's bra was tougher than hitting a home run, though far more exciting.
When he finally completed the task, she dropped the bra off her arms and smiled as she presented him with her breasts. He accepted them eagerly. The previous night, there had been almost a vagueness about the sight of them, but in the bright light of the hotel room there was nothing vague, they were big, white, pink tipped beauties and more than filled his hands.
"Let's get on the bed and play and play,"
Olive told him and he was delighted to go along with the suggestion.
After he had fondled her breasts for a long time, she had him suck them while she excitedly rubbed his head and face, writhing in lust, thrilled out of her mind at being able to seduce a strong, innocent boy, watching his every move, hearing his deep, labored breathing and knowing she was the cause of it.
"Take my panties off now, dear," she whispered. "It is time for you to have your first look between a woman's legs. I think you may even like what you see there."
She was lying on her tummy then and raised her plump behind, the sheer nylon seeming to strain to contain big, firm, beautiful buttocks. Peering closely, the valley between the lush hills looked even more exciting and set his whole body afire with desire.
His hands sandwiched between the nylon of her panties and the silk of her beautiful skin, he pushed the fabric down to lay bare the treasure of the first female behind he had ever truly seen, the incident in the darkness the night before did not really count as a visual experience, thrilling though it had been.
Glancing at a mirror, Olive caught a reflection of the scene on the bed. The superb, arrogant athlete was trembling and making little whining sounds as he continued to push the nylon down. She added to his arousal by making little bucking motions with her hips.
As though it had been triggered by the erotic motions her buttocks were making, instinct triggered the boy to press down between her cheeks with his perspiring face. While his hands held her hips, she kept pushing her rear up against his pressing face, rubbing his nose between the satiny mounds.
Quickly then, he resumed pulling her panties down. When they reached her knees, she raised her legs and he dragged the flimsy garment off.
Not waiting for her to turn, he rolled her over and Olive threw her legs wide apart.
"Don't just look at those soft, pink lips," she told him, "get your face in my crotch and give them a nice, wet kiss."
He obeyed with the same eagerness he had displayed from the start, but what began as a kiss became much more than that as Olive kept shouting orders which resulted in Paul performing cunnilingus until she achieved orgasm.
"Oh, Paul baby," she sighed a little later, "you can sure use your mouth. Help yourself and play while I rest for a few minutes."
Paul found plenty to keep himself occupied while the woman lay resting, a smile of pure content on her face.
"Would you like to ride me now, Paul?" she asked and gave him a warm, eager smile.
"I sure would."
"Okay, lover," she said, opening her legs wide and raising her knees, "it's nice and wet so just stick that bone right in and ride my belly."
His mouth dry, the palms of his hands wet with sweat, Paul hurried between her legs and, with an ease that surprised and delighted him, slipped his penis into her hot, very moist vagina.
As he lowered himself onto her and pressed his erection in to the hilt, Paul gave a little groan. He didn't have to be told what to do from there, and was soon stroking hard and so fast that Olive knew it was going to be a quickie at best.
And it was. Groaning and panting, his body jerking and twitching between her warm thighs, he ejaculated strongly, then collapsed atop her, their perspiration mingling and giving her a warm, exciting bath.
After he rolled off her, they lay with their arms around each other while she gave him an exciting and highly erotic sex lecture. After a long time, Olive went to the bathroom and when she returned, told him that she was all nice and fresh again.
A few minutes later, Paul discovered she really was as his face went back to her crotch to perform cunnilingus again and to bring her to climax that way for the second time.
He fought to achieve another erection, but was not having much luck.
"Relax, dear," she told him, "you can't get another hard by fighting yourself. Here, watch while I show you how easily I can do it for you."
Moving down on the bed, she took his penis in her hand, fondled it for a minute, then closed her mouth around it, drawing a groan from the boy. Almost at once, they both felt it beginning to stiffen.
"Now I'll be able to ride you again," he enthused, his eyes shining.
Taking his penis out of her mouth and teasing the head with her licking tongue, she looked excitedly at the boy.
"Maybe we'll do something else with it this time, Paul. How would you like to go off in my mouth and give me a nice warm drink?"
The boy's mouth opened, but no words came out. Without waiting for a reply, she pushed his penis back into her mouth and proceeded to perform fellatio until he ejaculated for the second time.
When Paul left the hotel, later, felt very much a man, a very tired one.
Olive refused to go to the hotel with him again, although he persisted, pointing out the danger of their being caught in an affair, and the disgrace she would face as a married woman engaging in sex with a teenage boy.
She convinced him that girls weren't as bad as he thought and assured him that with his experience, he wouldn't have any trouble getting what he wanted from them.
"If the girl is reluctant," she explained, "feel her up as much as you can, then start kissing and licking around her knees. She won't likely protest if your mouth works its way up her thighs. By the time you start kissing and licking the crotch of her panties, she isn't going to make any fuss about letting you take them off for her. From there, you know what to do."
Taking her advice, Paul began dating girls finding out that much of what Olive had told him about making out was true. In time, he was scoring so often that he didn't have the time or the desire for athletics, assuming he would have had the energy.
He is still a bachelor in his mid twenties and continues to enjoy playing the field.
Although he has learned much in the way of sex technique over the years, it was still that chance meeting with Olive that changed his life completely. He wonders whether, had that change not taken place, he would have gone on to be a star in baseball, but is not really concerned as long as he finds so many women who are prepared to play ball his way.
CASE HISTORY 9
Rina was just fourteen when her mother died, leaving her alone with her father. She was an intelligent, pretty girl, mature beyond her years. She had been brought up strictly but with love, hugs and kisses combined with brisk spankings when her mother felt they were deserved.
For a few days after the woman's death, Rina was stunned, then threw herself into housework, hoping it would take her mind off her loss. When it worked, she became a dedicated little worker, maintaining good grades in school while caring well for her father and the house.
He suggested hiring a housekeeper, but Rina knew he couldn't really afford one and assured him that she could handle it with ease. And she did.
At fifteen, Rina discovered that she and her father had adjusted beautifully to their new life.
He helped her with the dishes most evenings and they chatted easily, more like husband and wife than father and daughter.
Stu couldn't understand how she managed it, but in addition to housework and school, she found time to read and was selective in her reading so that they could discuss many topics together in a way both found stimulating.
At sixteen, Rina's maturity became physical as well with good breasts, well fleshed buttocks and firm, shapely thighs and legs. When her father asked when she planned to start dating, Rina told him she wasn't interested.
He tried to convince her that it would be good for her to be out with young people, but she told him she got enough of that in school and that she preferred spending evenings at home with him.
In her search for maturity, Rina traveled in many directions, one of them, the direction which led to the cupboard where her father kept his liquor supply. It was a well stocked bar and, over the course of a few days, the girl sampled everything.
Of them all, she discovered that gin and tonic was the drink for her. Being honest, she told her father that she enjoyed a drink after school while she worked and he told her that, despite state laws, there was nothing wrong with a girl drinking, in moderation and especially in her home.
In the evenings, they would share a drink or two and those were the drinks Rina enjoyed most.
More than ever she felt more wife than daughter to the man and, as her body began to feel the twinges of sexual arousal that are quite common at that age, she began to add more definite direction to what had been vague thoughts.
At night, she would think of the man undressing in the room next to hers. She would try to picture him walking naked around the room. She had never seen a man's penis, but like most girls had seen those precious pictures which passed from hand to hand.
He was a well built, good looking man in his early forties and she imagined he would have a big penis. She wondered if he ever played with it in the night as she sometimes played with a hand between her thighs, feeling the warmth and thrill as her arousal mounted until she put a finger into her vagina and rubbed until she was writhing in orgasm.
Since her father rarely spent an evening away from home, she doubted that he had a girl friend. Having been assured by older girls that the male was not capable of going more than a few days without either sexual intercourse or masturbation, she guessed that he too looked after his sex needs just as she did.
And then she was struck by the irony of the situation. She and her father loved each other as much as a man and wife could, she felt sure, yet each was meeting the sexual need in an artificial way.
Her daydreams became more specific after that, as she dreamed of lying naked in the big bed with him, his strong arms around her, holding her close and warming her with his naked body.
They would talk and their hands would move easily over each other until, both filled with arousal and desire for each other, she would roll onto her back, her legs parting wide to admit his strong, eager body, his big stiff penis filling her hungry body.
Normally, these daydreams came when she was alone in her bed at night, her nightie tossed over the back of the chair beside her bed where it usually spent the night.
But then came a Saturday when, because of an emergency at the office where he worked, he was forced to put in a full day's work.
Rina understood that he had no choice in the matter, but she was deeply disappointed. Saturday was a day of togetherness for them when they did the marketing and caught up on household chores that had not gotten done during the week.
She kept herself busy during the morning, but a long, dull afternoon loomed ahead. Rina poured her first drink early and sat daydreaming. Soon, she was lost in erotic thoughts, all of them involving her father.
Each time her glass was empty, she would refill it. As a result, when her father returned shortly before five, Rina was quite thoroughly drunk.
Not scolding her, he helped her to her bedroom, seeing that she could not walk alone, and put her to bed fully dressed. During the night, she went to the bathroom and vomited for a long time, but when she woke in the morning, there was no hangover.
At breakfast, she apologized for getting drunk, and her father seemed very understanding about it. That afternoon, they dressed and went for a walk. As usual, when they went for leisurely walks, she gave him her hand and he held it, warmly, as a lover would, she thought.
They didn't talk all the time, and during the quiet moments, Rina had time to think. One thought centered that her father had put her to bed without taking off even her dress. That seemed strange until she had the idea that perhaps he was afraid to take her dress off, afraid that he would become carried away by seeing and touching her body. Perhaps, she projected the thought, he had daydreams involving her, the same erotic ones she so often enjoyed.
If that were the case, she reasoned, then she was going to have to find some way to make him see and touch her body, as completely as possible and under circumstances that would be as seductive as she could make them.
By then, there was no longer anything vague about her intentions, she wanted her father to be her lover, wanted to sleep with him every night and to learn to make love with him in every possible way.
By the time they arrived home from their walk, Rina had formed a plan that she hoped would work, one that even if it did not bring the desired result that day, could lead her father into being her lover, would rob him of the strength to resist.
"I'm going to have a tall, cool one, dear," he said as they entered the house. "How about you?"
"Do you think I should, after last night?" she asked.
"Of course, dear. You just got careless and carried away. It would be dangerous if you began to drink too much, but I think you've learned your lesson."
Taking the glass from him, she sipped it and decided his comment was the entree to putting her plan to the test.
"I'm not so sure of that," she told him, carefully not calling him daddy, not wanting to emphasize the paternal angle.
"What do you mean, dear?" he asked, puzzled, concern showing on his face.
"Well, in the old days, when I did something wrong, I was punished for it by being spanked. After that, I was careful not to do that particular thing again. Now, I kind of feel that I got away with getting drunk yesterday and it could hp that the next time I get depressed, I'll do the same thing."
"You're a very mature and honest girl, Rina," he tolH her, an expression of pride on his face. "But I'm afraid you're too big to be spanked that way now."
"I don't think you're right," she persisted. "After I had been spanked, I knew I was also loved. Without spankings, I wouldn't be whatever I am today. Truthfully, I think you should turn me over your lap and give me a spanking."
"But dammit, Rina, if I did spank you, it would hurt."
"I know that, spankings are supposed to, aren't they? But after that, I'd remember. Next time I'm tempted to drink too much, I'd remember the spanking and leave the bottle alone."
They discussed the matter at length over their drinks. She saw that her father accepted and was impressed by her argument, but saw that he was reluctant, afraid, she hoped, to take her across his thighs with her panties lowered for a spanking on her lush, bare bottom.
She knew she had a nice pair of buttocks and that framed by her garter belt, they would prove very seductive indeed. At length, the man promised to think about it and to give her his decision that evening.
"Is there much gin left?" she asked, seriously.
"There's a bottle and a bit, why?"
"Oh, I was just thinking that if I got away with what I did last night, I might give it another try tonight." She finished the statement with just a hint of a smile, then excused herself to go to the bathroom.
Nothing more was said about spanking when Rina returned to the room, but her father flashed her a smile that seemed filled with more than just humor, but with warmth and admiration as well.
"I think you've earned another drink, Rina," he told her, still smiling as he handed her the drink he had poured for her.
Stu usually stayed in the kitchen with her when she worked on preparing Sunday dinner, but Rina was not upset when this time he didn't. She guessed that he had a lot to think about.
Things were normal during the meal, they chatted, but she saw a nervousness in him that delighted her. It was as though he had decided to spank her and was afraid that he would not be able to control his desire for her.
After dinner, they washed the dishes together, then sat watching the Ed Sullivan show, a regular Sunday evening event for them.
When it finished, she got up and turned the television off.
"Well," she said, not smiling, "does this naughty girl get her fanny spanked as she deserves?"
"Yes, dear, but I have reservations, to put it mildly. You're not a child anymore, you have the body of a woman."
"Is that why you didn't undress me when you put me to bed last night?" she asked as she sat beside him on the couch, drawing her legs up under her and showing smooth, nylon sheathed thighs.
"Yes, damn it. I'm only a man, you know."
"Daddy, I think we're very special people. Please don't tear yourself apart like this. People out there make all sorts of rules that everybody is supposed to obey. They don't even know what life is all about, yet they make the rules and everybody is supposed to obey them. I'm ready for my spanking now. Please take me to your room and give it to me."
Rina gave him her hand and he held it as they walked out of the room and went to his bedroom. On the way, she cautioned him not to be too easy on her, to give her a real spanking that she would remember.
"You know, I don't even know how it's done," he told the girl as they walked into the bedroom.
"That's all right," she replied with a little smile, "I've had plenty of experience and I can still remember the routine. You just sit on the edge of the bed, I'll come to you and hold my dress up to my waist so you can take my panties down. After that, I'll lay across your lap while you remind me what I'm being spanked for, then go ahead and give it to me. That's all there is to it."
Rina saw that he was perspiring as he sat on the bed. Bowing her head, she caught the hem of her dress with both hands and pulled it up until it was above the tops of her sheer, black nylon panties. She tried her best to appear solemn and even sad, although that required an acting performance that wasn't easy.
She saw the man's body tense as he stared at the lush beauty of her body and thighs, black suspenders pressed against her firm white thighs holding expanded nylon tops in an erotic caress of her thighs.
She stood close to his right thigh so that he was forced to twist a little as he reached toward the elastic top of her caressing panties. He opened his mouth as though to say something, then closed it again and she felt his hands taking her panties down.
Rina watched the patch of curly foliage at the bottom of her tummy come into view and thought it had never looked so exciting, it was as though she were looking at the body of another woman. She saw the man try to look away, then lose the fight and feast his eyes on her beauty.
Holding her dress up with her left arm, she draped her lush body across his thighs, As she did, her heart gave a leap of excitement as she felt the stiffness of his penis. It was just what she wanted to find, what she had to feel.
She felt his hand push her dress a little higher over her back and waited for the words of scolding. When there were no words but she felt a stinging spank on her arched, waiting behind, she knew he had forgotten about scolding and was losing his self-control as she wanted him to do, as he had to do if her plan were to work.
He applied the first few spanks slowly, with what seemed like deliberate precision, then the rhythm was broken and his hand slapped from cheek to cheek in a shower of brisk spanks.
It had been a long time since she'd been spanked and the slaps hurt, set fires burning in her sensitive buttocks, but the fire was delicious and, though she cried and wriggled across his thighs, she didn't want the spanking to stop.
In the past, there had been times when she almost found enjoyment in being spanked by her mother, but this time there was no almost, it was sheer ecstasy and the more it hurt, the louder she cried, the more thrilling it became for the eager, aroused victim.
And then, when Rina began to think that the spanking was going to bring her to an orgasm, he stopped spanking suddenly, started to clutch one hot, red nether cheek, then pulled away the hand just as it was touching the sensitive skin.
"Go to your room right away, Rina," he told her as he pushed her off his thighs. "Right away," he repeated, his voice breaking with passion.
"Yes, daddy," Rina sobbed as she got to her feet and allowed her dress to fall into place without pulling her panties up. "Please let me come back to say good night after you're in bed."
Knowing how torn the man was, she left the room and went to her own. Only then did she realize that she had made a mistake, that she should have pushed him down on the bed and thrown her body at him while he was so aroused.
Hurriedly, she began to undress, her hands trembling no less than those of her father had done as he took her panties down earlier.
Rina hated herself for having lost control of the situation that she had so carefully brought about, then her mind suddenly calmed completely. Her garter belt and nylons were still on, but other than that, she was naked, her freshly spanked buttocks glowing hotly, warming all of her body.
Her lush breasts rose sharply as she drew a deep breath, then she turned and walked out of her room. She opened the door of her father's room and walked in, her mind and body filled with confidence that she could not possibly lose, that she was going to get what she wanted.
As her father looked up in alarm, he had just stepped out of his pants. Only his briefs remained in place and she saw them bulge against the thrusting force of his erect penis.
"Rina!" he gasped, then he couldn't talk because she had thrown herself into his arms and was kissing him with a passion such as neither had ever experienced before.
As she pushed him down onto the bed, she heard a groan that sounded like "noooooo," but she paid no attention as she laid atop him, her lovely, naked body pressing and rubbing as she found his mouth with hers and began kissing him with wet, hot kisses, her mouth wide open, her tongue probing his mouth while her body continued to press and rub.
And then the fight was over as he rolled her off him, wrapped his arms tightly around her and kissed with even more passion than she had shown earlier, his strong penis digging between her thighs which opened to invite it.
When Stu began fondling and kissing her breasts, Rina reached for his briefs and pushed them down until she was able to find his penis with her hand which closed around it. As she felt the size and strength of it, she trembled with desire.
His briefs still stretched between his thighs, where the girl had pushed them, the man fell between her wide open legs and, taking her hand away from his throbbing penis, he guided into the warmth of her crotch.
Rina groaned with lust as she felt the big weapon pushing into her, spreading her tiny vagina. She felt too, his sweat trickling onto her naked body and that too became a sexual thing.
Even when she cried out sharply at the pain of her hymen being penetrated, her fingers were digging into his buttocks, urging him into her, wanting to take everything he had and not wanting to wait a second longer than necessary.
And then the full length of his penis was in her and the man paused, his weight deliciously heavy on the girl's body.
"Are you in pain, dear?" he asked, tenderly.
"I don't know what pain is, darling," she replied hotly, her hands urging his buttocks. "Give it to me. I want it."
In that moment, he knew that what he was doing was incest, but there could be no stopping. He recalled vaguely the things his daughter had said about rules made by other people, then he turned his thoughts away from the subject and bak to the intense physical love he felt for the lovely naked girl, his daughter.
He began stroking, forcing himself to work slowly so that her first experience of sexual intercourse would not be too brief. As his penis stroked in the hot depths of her body, Stu began to wonder if she were building toward orgasm, but told himself that was out of the question, that virgins don't achieve climax during their first, painful experience.
Stu was still telling himself that when she groaned and wailed into orgasm, her legs wrapping so tightly around him that he was forced to stop stroking.
But that didn't matter since, in her writhing and rubbing, and with the tensing and relaxing of her vaginal walls around his highly aroused penis, he ejaculated, releasing a veritable stream of semen that had been stored too long and escaped strongly so that it seemed to fill her body.
Later, while they lay resting, his hands exploring the body he had secretly desired for so long, Rina confessed that she had planned the seduction, that the spanking had been her weapon and she had insisted on it for that reason.
In exchange, he told of strong urges to grab at her and to take her into his arms, to ravish her, of erections during lonely nights when the big bed seemed so cold and empty and he thought of her sleeping in the next room, either naked or in a little, sheer nightie. They exchanged admissions of masturbation, each with thoughts of the other.
As of that night, his bed became their bed as they completed their relationship, adding the one aspect that had been lacking.
Over the next seven years, father and daughter lived as husband and wife and as lovers, their passion and mutual love never diminishing until a stroke felled the man.
The doctor warned Rina that there would probably be another one and that if it came too soon, survival was doubtful. The second came that night and he died.
Although she'd had only hours to prepare for it, Rina was able to accept the fact of his death and the end of their relationship. Telling herself to count all the good things that had been theirs, she soon adjusted to life alone.
She sold the house, found a job and a nice apartment. Rina is dating now and expects to marry and raise a family. Considering her experience in the arts of physical love, the man who wants her as his wife will have to be a skilled lover or at least, be a good student, willing and eager to learn from a skilled teacher, without asking questions about the source of her knowledge.
* * *
CASE HISTORY 10
Against her wishes and despite her protests, Tina was enrolled in a residential convent school at the age of fourteen. Her mother was determined that the girl should become a nun, and considered it prudent to get her out of circulation before she began dating.
In time, Tina adjusted to the all girl life of the convent and, while she never liked it, she learned to live with it and make friends.
Knowing that she would never become a nun and should prepare for a career, she chose secretarial training. When she graduated at the age of seventeen, she returned home to announce to her parents that she was finished with the convent and was going to find a job. Although her plans called for finding an apartment as quickly as possible, she chose not to mention that little detail.
Despite her lack of experience, she found a job in a large office and decided that by saving her money carefully, she should be in a position to rent a small apartment within a month.
But within a couple of days, her mother made it clear that another month of living there would constitute years of hell for the girl. By law, Tina was free to leave home at sixteen, but by economy she was stuck there.
These thoughts burned strongly in her mind as she sat at her desk a few days after beginning work. Her menstrual period was approaching, bringing with it the usual, for her, despondency and this, combined with trouble on the home front became too much.
When she felt the tears coming, she hurried to the rest room, but before she made it, the tears were showing. En route, she passed the desk of Vickie, an attractive woman in her early thirties who was, although Tina was not then aware of it, a lesbian who had been looking her over appreciatively and thinking erotic thoughts about the young beauty.
Seeing her opportunity, she hurried into the room to find the girl in tears, standing before a mirror, her hands covering her face.
Gently, she guided the girl to the couch and held her without talking until the bout of tears was over. Vickie arranged that they should go to her apartment after work for a chat and promised that she would help the girl, no matter what her problem was.
As assistant to the office manager, it was not difficult for Vickie to get permission to take the girl home then, just a little more than an hour early. In Vickie's comfortable apartment, they waited until coffee was ready and poured before beginning to chat.
The woman was warm and friendly and Tina found it easy to tell her whole, sad, frustrating story. But while it was easy to talk, holding her tears back was a different matter.
This time, in the privacy of her own apartment, the woman was free to hold the crying girl more closely and to rub her back comfortingly until cries abated and only a few dry sobs remained.
"You poor baby," Vickie consoled her, turning the girl so that she could look down into her blouse at the upper slopes of smooth white breasts, "it must be terrible, but cheer up, your troubles are over."
When Tina asked how they possibly could be, Vickie informed her that she would be moving into Vickie's apartment the following day and would continue to live there until she was ready to move out on her own.
It was a little while before Tina could grasp the significance of the woman's words, then she was all smiles. Tina phoned her mother to say she was spending the evening with a friend, and hung up when her mother began another angry and suspicious tirade.
They chatted easily during dinner and after that. Tina found it strange that the woman had never married, and when the subject turned to males and Tina reported that having spent her formative years in a convent school she knew nothing on the subject, Vickie told her, with feeling, that she was lucky and would keep it that way if she were smart.
The following day, instead of going to work, Tina packed her belongings, called a cab and, cutting off the fight her mother tried to stage, moved out. During the drive to her new home, she trembled with nervousness, but alone in the apartment, she quickly relaxed.
Phoning the office, she reported to Vickie that she had moved in and would get to work as quickly as possible. Instead, the woman told her to take the rest of the morning to get unpacked and come in after lunch.
After unpacking, Tina noticed the couch which Vickie had told her did not pull out as it was supposed to and as a result of which, they would have to share her bed.
Curious rather than suspicious, she reached under it, pulled it open easily and found a fully made bed. With a puzzled frown, she closed the couch and began thinking.
Although she had never shared a bed, at the convent it had been a punishable offense for a girl to even sit on the bed of another, she didn't at all mind sleeping with Vickie. She wondered though why the woman had lied rather than simply saying she would like Tina to sleep with her.
That evening, they agreed to get to bed early. Tina found it strange and faintly exciting to undress with the woman. Even more exciting was sneaking glances at Vickie as she stripped naked and, without any indication of bothering with a nightie, got into bed.
"Hey," Vickie commented, smiling, "you've got a honey of a figure."
Tina blushed a little as she thanked the woman, then went on to observe that Vickie too had a good shape.
"Don't you wear a nightie or anything?" she asked.
"Never."
"How naughty," she said with a little giggle. "A friend of mine got caught at the convent sleeping in the nude. The sister who made the room check caught her, made her turned over on her tummy, pulled out the strap she always carried and gave her a strapping."
"How old was your friend then?"
"Seventeen."
"It sounds like your sister gets her jollies out of spanking the bare behinds of nice big girls. Did your friend tell you whether anything else happened after the strapping?"
"No. What do you mean?"
"Well, it could be that the sister got herself worked up and stayed around to," she paused, "cheer the girl up. You know, like rubbing the sting out of her ass and doing a few other things."
"Oh, I don't think a nun would do anything like that," Tina said with conviction.
Dropping the nightie she had been about to put on, Tina mustered all her courage and got into bed naked, determined to show Vickie that she was not just a nervous, silly, convent girl.
"I guess you never shared a bed before, Tina," her new friend said with a smile. "If you lie way over on the edge like that, you're going to fall out in your sleep and maybe knock off one of those nice big bubbies."
Laughing, Tina moved a little closer to the middle of the bed as she explained that she didn't want to crowd the woman.
"Don't worry, Tina, there's lots of room. And another thing, don't go getting all nervous and upset if we happen to touch or bump in the night. Most people are so damn afraid to touch. I think it's silly."
They exchanged a few more comments, then turned the lights out and said good night.
The excitement Tina had felt at the r' lit of the mature woman stripping naked, pei listed even though she could no longer see her. The fact of sleeping naked with another naked female continued to be both naughty and exciting.
In her excitement and new surroundings, Tina was not able to sleep. After a little while, the sound of steady, deep breathing, almost snoring, told her that Vickie was asleep.
Responding to an instinctive urge, Tina, who had her back to the woman, eased closer, and closer until she felt her buttocks touch those of the woman. The excitement of the contact was incredible to her, and she maintained it, pushing her behind back to increase it.
And then she wanted to savor the feel of the warm, silken buttocks with her hand. Vickie was asleep, she reasoned, so that as long as she touched lightly and cautiously, there was no chance of her being caught.
Easing her bottom a little away, she brought her hand back slowly until she felt her palm touch a cheek. A thrill of arousal shot through her, shocking her with its intensity.
After a little more of the game, the urge to clutch at the exciting nether cheek became so great that she forced herself to take her hand away, move away from the woman completely and try to get to sleep.
A minute later, making sleepy sounds, Vickie turned to face her, lying close, their bodies not quite touching. The wildly aroused girl began to tremble violently in the heat of a passion such as she had never previously known.
But she was not alone in her sexual arousal. Vickie too was far from being asleep. She too had thrilled at the touches she had received, but had cleverly gone on feigning sleep, hoping the girl would persist and bring herself to a state of arousal from which there could be no turning back.
Confident that Tina had achieved that state and that a touch in the right place would trigger her emotions, Vickie moved her hand slowly until it touched a firm cheek, gave a bold squeeze, then rubbed slowly down the lower slope, down a silken thigh, then back up to caress the buttock again.
"I can't sleep either," she whispered, her lips almost touching Tina's ear. "Turn around and snuggle up to me."
Tina's body stiffened, she gave a little gasp, then she threw herself over and found warm, strong arms holding her as Vickie's mouth found hers and they kissed, their naked bodies rubbing and pressing warmly.
"What are we doing?" Tina asked between kisses.
"We're loving each other, darling," Vickie told her, "and it's wonderful now, but it's going to be even more so. You'll see, dear, just let yourself go. My God, you're beautiful!"
While they kissed, Vickie's hands were busy caressing firm, smooth back, buttocks, thighs and hips as her victim squirmed in passion that was far beyond any hope of control.
"Oh Vickie, isn't this wrong?" she asked, close to tears.
"You tell me, darling," Vickie said as she captured a firm young breast in a warm hand. "Does this feel wrong?" she asked, squeezing gently, rubbing the sensitive nipple. "Do you want me to stop?"
"No ... I don't know ... I...."
Her words turned to a groan of ecstasy as
Vickie took the breast into her mouth and, after hardening the nipple by working it between her lips, began to suck. Confident that the battle was over before it really began, Vickie moved a hand slowly down along the girl's smooth tummy, detoured a little to the left as it passed through the patch of dark foliage which crowned her mons veneris, then found the inner thigh and pushed it gently away from its beautiful mate.
Releasing the breast from her mouth, Vickie brought her lips close to the girl's ear and began to whisper erotic words into it.
"Your thighs are like silk, darling, doesn't it feel exciting when I rub them like this?" Her hand moved high, stopping with the edge of it brushing a sensitive pink labia.
"Open your legs a little wider, darling. This is very thrilling for both of us, but I'm going to show you something even better."
Vickie had already thrown the sheet off them and was able to watch as the girl opened her thighs wide, displaying openly her warm crotch, surrendering it completely. When her hand moved up the inner thigh again, Vickie didn't stop until it pressed down warmly on the girl's warm vulva, bringing another groan from her.
"Isn't it a wonderful feeling, darling?" Vickie asked, whispering as her hand began to rub slowly and gently, each rub causing Tina to squirm and groan again.
While she continued to fondle the vulva of the writhing girl, Vickie kept moving farther down on the bed until she was able to kiss Tina's hips and thighs, still whispering loudly enough for the girl to hear and be further intoxicated by her words and the tone in which they were uttered.
As Vickie moved the body of her eager victim, Tina made no effort to resist, didn't try to, and then Vickie's moist, warm lips were grazing on Tina's inner thighs, her hot breath warming her crotch.
"Here we go, baby," Vickie panted, "all the way up to the stars."
Tina discovered that she had saved her longest and loudest cry for that moment of ecstasy when the wet mouth closed over her maddeningly aroused vulva and began sucking. There was another cry when she felt the tongue being inserted, lapping, probing, then centering on her clitoris, rasping on it until Tina had to stuff the heel of her hand in her mouth and bite down on it to keep from arousing the entire neighborhood.
While Vickie continued driving the girl mad with her mouth and tongue, her hands clutched and rubbed luscious buttocks and thighs, constantly pulling the girl's crotch onto her face, feeling that warm, wet crotch rubbing and jerking against her, giving as avidly as she was taking.
Tina's hand hurt so she took it out of her mouth and clamped her jaws shut, tightly. Just then, orgasm hit her and her hands pounded the bed while her legs kicked in fury and she forced her screams to turn into a series of groans and grunts.
Vickie held her comfortingly until the erotic storm had passed and left her drifting on a soft, pink cloud. Everything in her life until that moment, Tina sensed, had been as nothing. Her real life had begun when Vickie's face had pressed down into her crotch.
As they continued to lie together, Tina tried to find guilt or shame at what she had permitted, but like Mother Hubbard's, that cupboard was bare. All she could find was a wonderful feeling of contentment that refused to go away.
With very little encouragement needed, Tina began to explore Vickie's body as hers had been explored earlier. It delighted her to see what joy there could be in fondling and sucking the breasts of another woman, of feeling the body tremble as her hand moved down, seeing and feeling silken thighs fall apart expectantly in hungry invitation.
"Do you want me to do it to you with my mouth?" Tina asked as her hand pressed the warm vulva and she felt the woman's body give a violent jerk.
"That would be lovely, darling, if you're not afraid?"
"How could I be afraid? You did it to me and it was divine. I think I'm going to like doing it to you. I'll hold your ass in both hands the way you held mine. I didn't know bums were such exciting things."
Tina stopped talking then and brought her face into the warmth of Vickie's crotch. She paused for a moment to inhale the strange, exciting odor, then pressed her mouth down onto the fleshy target, brought her tongue into play and kept both working until Vickie climaxed, wildly.
Before their night of lesbian lust was over, Tina had accepted lesbianism naturally, eagerly.
Her affair with Vickie lasted only a few months before she broke it off when the woman became too bossy, but there were others after that and, Tina suggests with a shrug of her shoulders, there will probably be others. Her mature beauty at the age of twenty-four gives promise that she will have no difficulty finding new partners, at least not for many years to come.
In the technical sense, she is still a virgin and intends going on being one indefinitely. Men just have no place in her plans.
CASE HISTORY ll
Wanda and Zack were both in their early forties, not terribly in love in the conventional sense, but sharing a strong common bond that made their relationship better and stronger than most marriages.
That bond was sex. Both were completely bisexual and had voracious appetites for anything even remotely suggestive of sex. They had met as members of a spanking club and later married as a matter of convenience. There were no children because children would have hindered them in their pursuit of sexual pleasure.
And yet, despite their constant search for new methods of sexual gratification, it would not have occurred to them to seduce the fifteen-year-old son of their neighbors and casual friends, had he not, in effect, come looking for it.
Neither Wanda nor Zack cared much for such domestic tasks as gardening and tending of the grounds, so the boy, Abe, did it for them. It saved them the work and provided him with extra spending money. Both liked the boy, and Zack often tossed a baseball with him for exercise. Also, they often invited him in to watch their color television since his parents had only a black and white set.
It was while she was watching television alone with the boy late one afternoon that Wanda got the idea of seducing him. She happened to glance in his direction and saw him turn away guiltily.
Checking, she noticed that the way she was sitting with her long legs crossed and the hem of her dress hiked up a little, she was giving quite a show of thigh to a very appreciative audience of one.
"Don't look so guilty, Abe," she said with a pleasant smile. "There's nothing wrong with looking at a woman's legs if she shows them."
"You're not mad?" he asked in astonishment.
"Of course I'm not," she assured him. "Just to prove it, look." Reaching for the hem of her dress, she pulled it higher, giggling as she exposed the expanded tops of sheer nylons and bare thighs above.
"Holy mackerel," the boy gasped.
"Have you often peeked at my legs, Abe?" she asked, her smile encouraging him to the point where he was able to tell the truth.
"Every chance I get," he admitted, managing a grin.
"Did you ever get any real good looks?" she went on. "I think it's exciting to talk about sex, don't you?"
"Yeah," he replied, his eyes wide with excitement. "Once when you were wearing a wide skirt and you bent over, I ducked down and looked right up. I saw your little black panties."
"I'll bet that gave you a hard-on, didn't it?"
"It sure did," he replied, blushing a little.
"Have you ever done anything with a girl, Abe?" she went on probing. "You know what I mean, with all her clothes off?"
"No."
"I'll bet you often think about it though. I suppose all boys do."
"I sure do. Especially after I've got a chance to look up a woman's skirt."
"I guess a woman is more exciting than a girl. At least my husband thinks so. The things we do together when we're both bare naked."
"Please tell me about them," he urged.
In complete detail, Wanda described sexual intercourse in various positions, cunnilingus and fellatio, then tossed in anal intercourse for good measure. While she talked, an exciting plan was forming in her mind and it called, she decided, for giving the boy a little at a time to keep him hooked until she and Zack could seduce and train him as a sexual servant to their many and varied tastes.
"I have to get dinner ready now, Abe," she told the boy when he was panting and perspiring with arousal, his penis stiff and straining in his pants. "Before you go though, how would you like to steal a quick look at my panties?"
"Do you mean it?"
"Of course I mean it, watch."
With that, she turned, moved her feet wide apart and bent over, resting both hands on the arm of a chair.
"Okay, Abe," she told him without turning her face, "get down and steal a look."
There was a scurrying sound, then she looked down between her legs to see the boy crouching. She allowed him about five seconds, then straightened.
"Please, Wanda," he begged, "Let me feel."
"Nope," she grinned, "not this time. We mustn't rush these things, you know. Maybe another day. You better scram now, I have to get dinner ready or Zack will warm my behind when he gets home."
When Zack arrived home, his wife had martinis chilled and ready to pour. As they sipped their drinks, Wanda radiated sexual excitement while she told of her experience with the boy.
"Why, the randy little bastard," the man commented. "How come you didn't let him take your panties off and get him to go down on you? You must be slipping, kid, getting old?"
"If I am," she countered, "at least I'm getting wise and that's more than I can say for my husband."
"You'd better either explain that or get across my lap, bottom up."
"Well, dummy," she began with a teasing grin, "we are on the verge of going up to the cottage for three very dull weeks of rest. Wouldn't it brighten up the place if we took along an innocent fifteen-year-old boy who was eager to learn all kinds of things?"
"Christ, that does sound great, but don't you think it's a bit risky?"
"Since when did either of us worry about a little risk if there was fun to be had? Besides, do you think he's very likely to run home and tell all to mummy and daddy?"
It required very little argument to convince Zack that it was a great idea. After dinner that evening, he phoned the boy's father and invited Abe to join them on their vacation at the cottage.
Vacation was almost a week away, but in the interval, Wanda worked on the boy, keeping him excited with glimpses of her panties and detailed descriptions of various sexual acts with emphasis on the homosexual, male and female. He asked many questions and she answered them all, excitingly.
The day before they were ready to leave, Wanda showed the boy a stag movie involving two men and a woman. While he sat trembling and perspiring beside her, they watched a man perform cunnilingus on the woman, then have sexual intercourse with her. After that the man knelt on all fours while the other had anal intercourse with him.
In the way of stag movies, the men were virile in the extreme, so that one performed fellatio on the other, after which the woman performed the act.
After turning off the projector and opening the drapes enough to let light in, Wanda stood in front of the seated boy, slowly pulled the hem of her dress up to her waist and invited him to feel her as much as he liked.
Her panties were sheer, white nylon which permitted a treat for his eyes as well as his hands. Assuring him that they would have much more fun than that at the cottage, she sent him home and, after lowering her panties for a quick digital masturbation, she set about preparing dinner.
Because it was a four hour drive, they left shortly after noon on Friday, Zack driving, Wanda and Abe sharing the back seat. As soon as they were on the highway which was un-crowded and permitted high speed, Wanda opened her blouse and invited the boy to play with her big breasts which were snugged in the cups of a black lace bra.
A look of shock came over his face as he looked at the back of her husband's head, the man intent on driving.
"Abe, you surely don't think my husband would mind."
"What's that, dear?" Zack asked without turning as he held the speed at a neat seventy-five.
"Poor Abe is afraid you'll get mad if he plays with my boobs."
"Are you kidding? Hell, this is a vacation and vacations are for fun. Help yourself, Abe," he called back, lightly, "as far as I'm concerned, you can play with her pussy if you want to."
When he recovered from the shock induced by the man's words, Abe reached for the big cups and began playing. After a while, Wanda raised her hips from the seat, pulled her skirt up to her waist and, sitting, gave the boy something else to play with.
To add to the erotic atmosphere, the man and woman swapped details of erotic incidents out of their past while the boy listened in ever mounting excitement.
Within an hour of their destination, Zack pulled the car onto the shoulder of the highway and asked his wife to take over the driving while he rested.
As Wanda put the car into motion, Zack leaned back, unzipped his fly and took his penis out. It was very big and very erect. At the sight of it, the boy gasped aloud.
"Take yours out too and give it a rest," he told the boy. "It's uncomfortable keeping a stiff tool in your pants for too long."
Embarrassed, the boy did so but only with much blushing. It would, he knew, look so small beside the big one of the man beside him.
"Say, you've got a good one, Abe," the man said, reaching to close his hand around it. "I'll bet Wanda is going to have some fun with that. As a matter-of-fact, I expect to have a few drinks from it myself. Ever have a blow job?"
"No," the boy replied, hastily, blushing even more.
"That's a shame, Abe, but we'll fix that when we get to the cottage, won't we, baby?"
"You can bet on that, lover. I want first suck on him though."
When the car pulled up at the cottage, Zack was holding his own penis and contemplating aloud on whether or not, if he were to masturbate he could hit his wife on the back of the neck with his semen.
Having become more accustomed to the erotic mood of the trip, Abe was able to laugh at the thought, picturing it actually happening.
In a surprisingly short time, the car had been emptied and Wanda was pouring drinks, including a relatively weak one for the boy.
"Well, how do you feel, baby?" Zack asked his wife patting and caressing her bottom with his hand up under her dress.
"Like horny," she replied. "Like I'd like someone to go down on me just to get me ready, then give me a nice piece of tail."
Assuring her that he was all for the idea, Zack began to undress and suggested to Abe that he do the same so that he would feel more involved in things.
"I don't suppose you've ever watched a man and woman making out?" Wanda asked Abe as she took her blouse off and massaged the cups of her bra.
When the boy admitted he hadn't, she assured him that he would get a real kick out of watching her husband work her over. "He sure knows how to give the lady whatever she wants. I've watched him in action hundreds of times."
Abe was naked when Wanda pushed her skirt down and stepped out of it. Through her sheer panties he saw the black garter belt she wore, the suspenders emphasized the whiteness of her big thighs.
"I'll get that for you, dear," Zack said as he came up behind his wife and unhooked her bra. She pulled it off and her naked breasts, although not as shapely as they had promised to be, were still terribly exciting to the boy as he watched Zack reach around his wife to fondle them and erect the pink nipples.
"What do you think of them, Abe?" he asked as his wife smiled with delight.
"Wow, they're really something. Am I going to be allowed to feel them later?"
"Hell, Abe, get used to it. You're going to be allowed to do anything you like for three beautiful weeks. Besides, she loves having them sucked. Don't you, sweet."
"You better know it, lover, but right now I'm in the mood to have something else sucked."
"Well then," he told her, giving her a brisk spank, "we better get you out of those panties so I can get my face into the cookie jar. Hey, Abe, would you like to take her panties down for her? You can steal a few feels on the way."
Eagerly, the boy crouched before her and pulled her panties down, slowly, his hands trembling as he bared her plump bottom and well rounded tummy. She rested a hand on his shoulder as she stepped out of them and he watched her big breasts swaying.
"Okay, baby," the man said, putting a hand on one of her big nether cheeks, "Let's get to bed, it's lunch time at the Y."
As they started toward the bedroom, Abe stood, waiting to be invited. Wanda issued the invitation with a sharp smack on his bottom. It sung, and yet it felt good, something that surprised him.
"Oh oh," Wanda commented as she saw her husband sit on the edge of the bed, "you've got something in mind that was not in the script."
"I'm just being kind, darling," he told her, patting his thighs with both hands. "Your poor little ass is cold and I'm going to make it nice and warm for you."
"I'll tell you, Abe," she said with a sigh as she grinned at the boy, "he's a sadist, but such a nice one. It's a good thing I'm a masochist."
With that, she draped her body, naked except for garter belt and nylons, across his thighs, he gripped her with his left arm around her waist, then began spanking her.
Abe was stunned to see that it wasn't just a light, playful spanking. His right hand came down hard every time, making the big cheek joggle, drawing a cry from her and leaving the smooth, big surface even more red than it had been before.
"Stop, Zack," he protested, impulsively, "you're hurting her."
"Thanks dear," Wanda told the boy, smiling through her tears and stopping her crying without effort, "sure he's hurting me, but I love it. I'll let you give me a spanking later."
As the spanking and her crying were resumed at the same time, Abe watched in fascination, very conscious of the promise she had made. He felt his penis twitching as he contemplated having the big naked woman over his lap and squirming while he actually spanked her bare behind with his hand.
The spanking finished, the man helped his red bottomed wife to her feet, then got on the bed and lay on his back.
"Now I'll have something nice and warm to hold on to while I eat you," he commented, licking his lips.
While Abe stared in fascination, the naked woman got on the bed, knelt astride her husband and lowered her crotch onto his face. Bending closely to stare, Abe enjoyed a most exciting view of the man's tongue working in the narrow area between the pink lips which already looked very moist to him.
Varying his view, Abe twisted around to watch the man's hands fondling the big, red cheeks, the tips of his fingers sometimes pushing deep into the valley between.
Sensing that the woman wouldn't mind, Abe selected a spot where he would not interfere with the man's hands and felt her hot nether cheek.
"Go ahead, Abe," she panted, feel all you like. I love it."
Delighted, Abe began playing with her big behind as he marveled at the heat and color of it.
And then the sound of her panting and groaning changed and the boy looked at her with concern. It was as though the man were hurting her. Checking to see whether perhaps Zack was biting where he had been licking, Abe saw that such was not the case.
She emitted a long broken wail which echoed through the room and caused the boy to tremble violently. He stared as her crotch jerked down hard on her husband's face, rubbing and pushing his nose up into the wet opening between the pink lips.
For what seemed like a very long time, she went on rubbing his face with her crotch as her big breasts flapped madly and broken sounds were torn from her throat. Her head was thrown back, mouth open wide, eyes closed tightly.
Climax had always been an enjoyable thing for Abe, but he got the distinct impression that it was something painful for the woman.
And then, convinced that pleasure and pain were one and the same for Wanda, he saw the wide smile of contentment spread across her face as she haised her head and opened her shining eyes.
"Oooh, that was a good one," she sighed. "Are you ready to give it to me while my twat is still hot and sensitive as hell?" she asked.
"You bet I am, baby," he assured her. "Get down like a bitch so I can feel your hot ass against my belly."
The words they used were as exciting to the boy as were their actions. He had heard all the words before, or most of them anyway, but never in that context and it gave them a new meaning, a thrilling excitement.
"Come and play with my boobs for me, Abe," Wanda panted as she knelt on all fours on the bed, her big, red buttocks beautifully arched, her heavy breasts hanging like fleshy pendulums, almost touching the bed.
Scurrying around her, after pausing to stare at her clearly displayed vulva, Abe knelt and reached under her with both hands reaching for her breasts. They were soft and felt terribly exciting as he rubbed and squeezed.
Happening to glance to his right, Abe noticed that the whole scene was being reflected in a mirror and that he was able to watch as the man knelt close behind his wife, held his penis in his hand, then probed under her buttocks. A look of satisfaction spread across his face as he removed his hand and pushed slowly up against her brightly colored bottom until he was pressing his belly against it.
At the same time, Wanda sighed deeply and looked up at Abe, a dreamy expression on her face as she told him that the man had penetrated her. Watching as Zack rode her behind, he understood why the man had used the term dog style.
While he went on playing with her big breasts, Abe heard the sounds from behind her, the wet sound of the man's penis moving in and out and the slapping of his hard belly on her big behind.
Things became hectic then as Wanda climaxed, again throwing her head back and filling the room with exciting sounds. Before she stopped, Abe saw that the man was also ejaculating, gripping her big hips and pulling her back to meet his jerking, twitching body as he pressed against her.
"Poor Abe," Wanda sighed, "he's so hard and we've been ignoring him while we had fun. Lie down, dear, Wanda will make you feel real good."
Following her instructions, Abe lay on his back and watched as the woman, still kneeling, licked her lips and moved over him.
Her mouth came down and closed around his penis. It was so exciting that the boy heard himself groaning, almost crying as her mouth moved down until his entire penis was inside it. In performing fellatio on the boy she kept moving her head up and down, working his erection in and out of her mouth until he ejaculated and she drained him, keeping his penis in her mouth, still sucking, until the boy thought he would faint.
When she got up and put her bra and panties back on, Zack explained to the boy that the party wasn't over, but that a woman in bra and panties becomes more exciting than when completely naked and would get them back in the mood for fun faster. Looking at Wanda as she combed her hair, Abe understood.
Later that evening, after they had eaten and bathed, Abe sat on the edge of the bed, pulled Wanda's panties down, took her over his lap and discovered the erotic pleasure of spanking. As she lay there, her buttocks looked bigger and more exciting than ever.
When the woman laughed at Abe and called him a baby, Zack told him to spank harder. Stung by her laughter, he gave it to her with full force, hoping to sting her plump behind the way she had stung his pride.
Abe reaped his reward when the red glow became fiery looking and she began to twitch and cry as she rubbed her body across his lap. With encouragement from Zack, Abe kept her crying as he went on spanking for a long, exciting time.
After she got off his lap and did a little dance while rubbing her buttocks with both hands, her panties falling to her ankles, she stepped out of them and lay on the bed.
With Zack providing a crash course in cunni-lingus, the boy pressed his face between her thighs, found her clitoris with his tongue and very quickly brought her to climax.
Later when she offered him sexual intercourse, Abe asked whether they could do it dog style and she quickly got into the appropriate position. It was a short ride for the boy, but a delightful one especially as it came to an end and he felt his penis spurting deeply inside her while his belly rubbed her warm, smooth buttocks which she ground back against him.
When he got up, tiredly, he saw Zack smiling and holding his erect penis in his hand. The man told him to sit on the edge of the bed, then approached and put a hand behind the boy's head and told him to perform fellatio.
Abe enjoyed the act and drank the man's semen greedily. In fact, with one exception, he enjoyed everything that happened during the three week vacation. That exception came when Wanda applied a lubricant to his anus and the man had anal intercourse with him. He felt discomfort for a long time after, although there was no pain.
On their return to the city, Abe continued to enjoy sex with the couple, and went on doing so until he went away to college, by which time he was well schooled in the sexual arts and found many willing partners.
* * *
And so, in eleven actual case histories, we have seen some aspects of the seduction of the innocent, or what would on the surface appear to be that.
As is so often the case, however, these were all cases where the victim was somewhere between willing and eager. There are many similar case histories in my files, all of which serve to substantiate the theory that, short of rape, seduction of the innocent is difficult, perhaps impossible, without some degree of cooperation.
