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    This story contains detailed and explicit descriptions of sexual
activity.  It is intended to be read by adults who are 21 years of
age or older.  If you are not such an individual, or if such
material is illegal where you live, or if such material is offensive
to you, then DO NOT READ FURTHER.

    This story is copyright (c)1998-99 by the author, all rights
reserved.  It may be posted in and in without permission of the author.  It may also be
distributed by others and placed on non-commercial web pages,

    This story may not be used in any way in any commercial activity
without explicit prior written permission of the author.

    Comments are welcome at  If you
get nasty or otherwise waste my time, I'll ignore you.

                         Jerome's Splendid

                          by Sidney Durham

    I must begin by telling you about Jerome's penis.  This account
is not about Jerome's penis, but I am compelled to share it with
you, in a manner of speaking.  Jerome played a major part in
changing my life, and he deserves this praise.

    You see, Jerome had quite a lovely penis.  I say that even
though he forcefully objected to the word "lovely."  Over time, we
grappled with this problem at length and he eventually agreed to
"splendid," which also suits him quite well.

    I should add, however, that I was not terribly experienced with
penises at the time.  I was barely into my twenties and had only had
an opportunity to compare Jerome's penis with that of two other men.
In my small sample he was a clear leader in terms of beauty; and
today I would say that he would be, in fact, still near the top of
the list, if not actually at the top.

    I know that some women claim they find penises ugly, but I
cannot agree with such a generalization.  Some of them might be
considered ugly, to be sure, but in the main, form does not displace
function.  If one has occasion to become involved with a man whose
penis is, shall we say, cosmetically challenged, then one is simply
deprived of a bit of visual stimulation.  I have found that keeping
one's eyes closed in such circumstances and using one's imagination
is a very adequate solution.

    There were several things that made Jerome's penis distinctive.
First, he was uncircumcised, and we all must admit that, being as
nature intended, he had a head start, so to speak, over the
circumcised - or, as I prefer to think of it, the mutilated.
Secondly, his penis was correctly proportioned, its diameter and
length in proper perspective, regardless of condition.  It was also
particularly straight, possessing a natural symmetry.  (He once told
me that he could and did masturbate with either hand, thinking this
might be the reason there was no curvature.)  It was also
unblemished, having a color like that of spring honey.  Its skin was
smooth, supple and soft, which tempted one to be inclined to stroke
it with one's fingertips - ordinarily producing a predictable
reaction, of course.

    Another important feature was that Jerome's penis did not
virtually disappear from view when in its normal state, as do the
penises of many unfortunate men.  Indeed, he remained nearly as
large when normal, and I once decided to trim his pubic hair to
accentuate this characteristic, as well as to maximize the overall
beauty of his penis.  We found the grooming process to be so
engaging that I subsequently trimmed him every four weeks.  Of
course, it was often necessary to suspend this task briefly before
it was completed, on account of certain distractions.

    When Jerome visited, usually three times per week, it was our
custom to discuss literature and public affairs while seated on the
settee in my flat.  Often we would soon find ourselves with our
clothing in disarray.  Full nudity was uncommon during our
conversations - in fact we tended to stop short of it - but was
often important to me to have ready access to his lovely attraction,
and he maintained that fairness entitled him to have free access to
my bosoms, which, he regularly assured me, were also quite lovely.
He would touch and caress my breasts as we talked, while my hands -
and eyes - would be occupied with "Splendid," as I had taken to
calling it.  Both of us found it tantalizing for me to render him
fully alert, whereupon I would unhand him, allowing the situation to
subside.  At some point, however, one of us would become impatient,
and we would have to suspend our discussions due to lack of
interest, and get on with the business of our pleasures.

    I have yet to mention one other quite remarkable feature of
Jerome's penis:  its flavor.  I hasten to add, to avoid presumptuous
conclusions, that I am not referring to the flavor one might
immediately think I am.  I am referring instead to the flavor of his
penis itself, not its issue.  This remarkable flavor was very much
like peaches, sugar and cream, and I came to be incredibly fond of

    I confess I have never understood this phenomenon.  The flavor
was not present at all times, and it was only present on the part of
his penis that was covered by skin.  There were two requirements to
produce the flavor:  it was necessary for him to be in an aroused
state, and it was necessary to introduce my own saliva to produce
the effect.

    I am sure it is easy to understand that I could not taste of
Jerome for any extended period, as this could easily bring about an
event that would eliminate one of the two conditions necessary to
produce the flavoring.  He, of course, was quite willing to allow me
to taste him whenever I wished.

    I came to know that my saliva was required, by the way, one
evening when I allowed a friend to taste Jerome, simply because she
though I was daft.  She did so with considerable gusto, causing him
to lose complete control of himself.  However, afterward, she told
me that she had tasted nothing unusual.  Unbelieving, I tasted him
myself, and his flavor was there, as I have explained.  I asked my
friend to taste him again, and she grew quite excited, proclaiming
that this was the most wonderful effect she had ever experienced.
However, as her own saliva displaced mine his flavor faded and it
became necessary for me to renew it for her.  This went on for quite
some time as my friend and I marveled at Jerome's flavor.

    Needless to say Jerome remembers that evening with considerable

    I must conclude that there was some chemical reaction occurring
involving my saliva and some sort of secretion from Jerome's skin,
possibly resulting from something in our diets.  Perhaps today's
medical science could find an explanation, but unfortunately poor
Jerome is gone.  I understand he died a natural death in 1987, at
the age of just under one hundred years.

    So. Having spent so much time explaining how delightful my
relationship was with Jerome, I should now proceed with my tale,
lest you become impatient with me.

    As I have said, this tale is not about Jerome at all, although
he did play a major role in what transpired.  You see, I was
burdened with a problem that brought an imperfection to what must
sound like a delightful relationship.  In brief, I was unable to
achieve an orgasm with Jerome, and had, in fact, never experienced
it at all.  Jerome was at once concerned and distressed by this, and
made valiant efforts to overcome the problem, often exhausting
himself in the process.  It was his efforts that caused my feelings
about him to evolve into true affection.  Our relationship began as
one that was mutually enjoyable but purely recreational, and it had
evolved into a situation where I felt considerable fondness for him,
as I believe he did for me.  It was my fervent desire to solve this
problem, and he was very sympathetic and concerned.

    Jerome was a medical student, and his father was a renowned
physician.  Unbeknownst to me Jerome had consulted with his father
and some of his colleagues, and arrived one evening at my flat
accompanied by a woman whom he introduced as Dr. Lillian McCall.
She was in the business, he explained, of providing therapy to
persons who were experiencing problems in the intimate parts of
their lives.

    At first I was put off by this.  I was not anxious to have our
intimacy exposed and examined by a third party, a stranger.
However, Dr. McCall was very gracious and understanding, and as she
explained the way she worked I became more at ease.  I will not
elaborate on her methods now.  You will learn as much as I am
willing to reveal as I describe the process I was about to undergo.

    She wanted to begin, she said, by exploring our sexual
histories.  She said that it was understandable that each of us
might prefer that other not be present during this, and that if we
wished the discussions could take place individually.  Jerome and I
simply glanced at each other and reached a tacit agreement that we
would hide nothing from one another.

    Dr. McCall began with Jerome, and I learned that his sexual life
had consisted primarily of solitary activities before I came into
his life.  He had experienced the pleasures of sex with only two
women before me:  one of them was a middle-aged woman who had taken
it upon herself to educate him, and the other was a series of
innocent and untidy adolescent experiments with the daughter of a
neighbor, actually his first foray into the world of sex.  He had
taken advantage of the interest of the elder of the two somewhat
regularly during his adolescent years, and had continued to rely
upon her occasionally during the time he had been in medical school.
He had, he said, stopped seeing her when he met me.  I believe he
was being truthful.

    My own history was as brief.  I had experimented with a cousin
when I was sixteen, each of us motivated by curiosity about the
other's physiology.  My cousin's own libido dominated these
activities and after watching him and assisting him in vigorous and
rapid masturbation two or three times I called a halt to it, simply
because of his failure to be attentive to me and his manifest
embarrassment following ejaculation.

    My maidenhead was taken two years later, by a young man who came
to live with my family for a few years.  There was nothing
remarkable about this event, nor was there anything remarkable about
any of the encounters I had with him during the three years
following it.  Because of my curiosity, because this was a new
experience for me, and because there was some physical pleasure, I
did enjoy the process.  I willingly accommodated him, serving
primarily as a receptacle - actually as a platform, since he
carefully avoided doing anything that could have impregnated me,
normally finishing the process by making use of my hand or his own,
his emission usually falling somewhere on the lower half of my body.
I found the spectacle of his ejaculation particularly fascinating.
He asked me to accept him orally occasionally, which I willingly
did, but he did not do this often, seemingly unable to overcome the
idea that this was an unreasonable request to make of me.

    Throughout I was blithely unaware that I could have been
enjoying these encounters more.  It was not until Jerome became
concerned that I knew there was something I had missed.  I do not
believe my concern was as great as his, however, simply because I
didn't know what I was missing.  Having said that, I hasten to add
that I began to wish I could enjoy the full experience.  Having
observed the intensity of Jerome's pleasure during intercourse, I
wanted to take that same path with him.

    Lillian McCall seemed satisfied with the brief descriptions of
the sexual parts of our lives.  She had asked for this, she
explained, simply for background information, and was much more
interested in looking forward, along a path to my "cure."

    She began to question us about our sexual activities.  Her
questions were quite specific, and it soon became clear that Jerome
and I were both uncomfortable describing our activities in the kind
of detail she sought.  After some time she suggested that it might
be easier for all of us if she were to become an observer.  We
agreed, but reluctantly.

    Dr. McCall asked us to begin as we always did.  We explained
that this was not easy to do, as our beginnings usually involved a
conversation between us, something that would seem forced in her

    "Very well," she said.  "Why don't you simply go into the
bedroom and make love?"

    We agreed to proceed in that manner.  In the bedroom, Jerome and
I disrobed while Dr. McCall turned down the bed.  We seated
ourselves on the bed, our backs resting on the headboard.  To our
surprise, Dr. McCall began removing her clothes.  She explained that
this was her usual practice in sessions like this, that it helped to
alleviate the clinical feel of our proceedings.

    I have neglected to say that she was quite beautiful, and even
more dramatic when disrobed.  She has quite a striking figure.  Her
breasts were full yet unsagging, and beneath she had an amazingly
brilliant mass of orange hair covering her genital area.  I am not
ordinarily strongly taken with women, but Dr. McCall certainly
caught my attention.  She took a seat in a chair she had positioned
at the foot of the bed and waited.

    Jerome had placed his arm over my shoulders just as Dr. McCall
removed the last of her clothing, and had been lightly caressing my
breasts since.  My nipples had become erect without my notice, and
glancing down I could see that Jerome was reaching the same state.
Boldly, I grasped his penis at its base, between my first two
fingers, and scissored it upright.  "Isn't this is lovely?"  I asked
Dr. McCall.

    Dr. McCall simply nodded and smiled, and told me that I was not
to involve her in what we were doing.  "I know I can't be ignored
completely," she said, "but I am not here to participate in any

    I noticed that I was becoming damp.  I closed my hand around
Jerome's penis and began moving it up and down, squeezing only
gently, and pumping him ever so slowly.  He turned a bit, cupping me
with his free hand, warming me for a moment before he began
insinuating his finger between my nether lips.  His lips found mine
and we kissed, taking a long drink of each other.

    Suddenly, without even a hint of a warning, Jerome grunted, a
puff of air through his nose, and began to ejaculate.  I tried to
watch the process, as I've always liked doing when he happened to be
outside me when this happened, but I was distracted by something
remarkable.  At the instant he began I experienced a strong
quivering inside me, a feeling of intense pleasure that nearly made
me swoon and left me gasping.

    Jerome was very apologetic.  "I know you wanted us to have
intercourse," he said to Dr. McCall, "and I've gone and ruined it.
I'm so sorry."

    Dr. McCall said not to worry, that we had plenty of time.

    "I think I did it, too," I finally managed to say, still

    "Yes," she said, as if to affirm my idea.  She was smiling.
"There doesn't seem to be much wrong with you after all."  She had
gotten a towel, and Jerome and I tidied the scene.  I was quite
sodden by then, as some of his issue had reached my stomach and my
pubic hair, so Jerome got a warm dampened cloth and cleaned me

    I was encouraged and excited.  I had at last experienced that
for which I had been longing.  However, as the evening ensued I was
to become distressed once again .  I was unable to repeat the
achievement.  Poor Jerome strove valiantly.  He tried penetrating me
from every conceivable angle in every conceivable position.  He
tried manipulating me with his hand and fingers.  He kissed me
there, licked me, and pushed his tongue into me, all to no avail.

    Dr. McCall began to participate more actively when it became
clear that my difficulty continued.  She coached Jerome, offering
suggestions, explaining - even showing.  At one point she allowed
Jerome to penetrate her in order to demonstrate to me us methods we
could use to maximize the effect of his penetration and to maximize
especially the involvement of my little clitoris at the same time.
Of course her beauty derailed us briefly, as Jerome was unable to
resist her allure and ejaculated again during her demonstration,
just at the moment she had taken him in her hand to point out how
the ridge of his glans would stimulate me inside.  Again he
apologized profusely, but the incident did provide at least a moment
of comic relief.

    Alas, all their efforts were to no avail for me.  I was at least
happy that Jerome's efforts were rewarded, but my pleasure with this
was strongly dampened by my disappointment.  I knew that under his
ministrations many women would have experienced orgasm several
times, yet I was unable to achieve even one more after the first.

    At last we rested.  Jerome and I were both becoming irritated in
our most tender areas, and poor Jerome was nearing physical
exhaustion.  I began crying.

    "Listen to me for a moment," said Dr. McCall, taking my face in
her hands and wiping away my tears.  "This evening has been a
learning process for us.  We have learned that you can indeed have
an orgasm, and the two of you have probably learned some new things
about good sexual procedure.  I am sure you will agree, for example,
that Jerome has learned some new skills that you will later

    "Unfortunately," she continued, "your single orgasm was not
genuine.  It was manufactured."

    "Manufactured?"  I sniffed.

    "I created it," she said.  "I have the capability to cause
people to have orgasms by using only my mind.  Unfortunately my
control isn't always that keen.  That explains why the two of you
had the simultaneous event."

    I started at her in disbelief.  "You're not being truthful," I

    Jerome looked at me seriously.  "My father and his colleagues
are convinced it's true," he said.

    Dr. McCall became quiet for a moment and I waited expectantly
for her to continue.  As I did this, I suddenly became aware of the
return of the new feelings I'd had earlier in the evening, and,
thinking I might be on the way to another orgasm, glanced at Jerome.
He was indeed quite erect again, and had thrown his head back on the
headboard and closed his eyes.  Then the poor fellow started
spurting semen again.

    And I had the experience again.  It was tumultuous, no doubt
enhanced by the long evening of intense sexual activity that had
just passed.  I actually fell into a swoon and poor Jerome became
quite distressed.

    "Please explain, Dr. McCall," I begged, once I had recovered.
"How do you do that?"

    She refused that day to explain, but I did learn more at a later
time.  I shall pause a moment at this point and explain.

    During the twentieth year of her life, Lillian McCall decided to
pursue a degree in law.  Until that time she had managed quite well
for herself as a sophisticated society courtesan, but in the main
she found the work unchallenging and for the most part boring.  The
gentlemen who provided her best financial gain were older, abrupt
and unimaginative, and she grew weary of having to constantly coax
them through the process.

    This is not to say that Lillian did not enjoy sex.  She did, in
fact, have a number of very satisfying sexual relationships, "off
the books," so to speak.  There were several men who served her
quite effectively and she had great fondness for all of them.

    Nonetheless, she felt compelled to establish a new career for
herself, and decided to become a barrister.  Much to the dismay of
her clients, she terminated all her business relationships with them
and enrolled in one of the best universities in America and began
her studies in earnest.  She would soon learn, though, that the
rigors of university studies required her to suspend many of her
other activities, including her own personal sexual activity.  This,
in particular, she gave up with great regret.  Nonetheless she did
appease herself with solitary sex.  In fact, she became quite
accomplished at it in a very short time.

    On a particular evening that she says she will always remember,
Lillian decided to try to achieve an orgasm without touching
herself.  She had long practiced meditation and was already skilled
in achieving intense focus, and she attempted to apply this focus to
reaching orgasm by way of mental stimulation rather than physical
stimulation.  She was successful, as she always had been at anything
she decided to do.  This capability served her quite nicely for many
months, as she could now masturbate at any time, at any location,
without revealing even a hint of what she was doing.

    One warm spring afternoon, in a stuffy lecture hall, while
listening to an exceptionally boring guest lecturer, Lillian chose
to apply her new skill, simply to relieve her own overwhelming
boredom.  She had not yet done this in the midst of a crowd, so
there was some interest on her part to learn if she might find the
experience more satisfying.  She focused briefly, and as the waves
started flowing through her body she noticed that there was
something of a stir in the seats around her, occurring at the exact
moment of her orgasm.  She thought at first that she must have made
some sound without knowing of it, but as she looked about her she
could see that none of the nearby students seemed to be taking
particular notice of her, although many of them appeared to be
somewhat distressed.

    Lillian was somewhat mystified by this, but decided her
imagination was simply tricking her and thought no more about it.
That is, not until she practiced her skill in the presence of others
a second time.  It was an occasion when one of her lovers had called
her to tell her he was in town on business, and would love to renew
their acquaintance the following evening.  Lillian was quite eager
to do this, she told him, but only at the price of a nice dinner

    During dinner Lillian found that she was becoming excited about
the prospects of the rest of the evening and decided to give herself
a preview gift.  By this time she was accomplished enough in her
special skill that she could perform it while seeming to be
attentive to what her lover was saying.  To her surprise, he stopped
talking, mid-sentence, just as her orgasm occurred, seeming to have
lost his composure.  She knew him quite well, and had seen him react
in this manner before.  She knew, beyond any doubt, that he'd just

    Later in the evening, after having first satisfied herself with
a long, luscious fuck, she tried her skill again, as a deliberate
experiment.  She was able to perform the act rather quickly, often
in less than a minute, and as she began she watched her lover's
penis rise and become erect, in exact concert with her own rising
passion, and then he ejaculated, in perfect timing with her own

    Lillian was at once pleased to learn that she could do this, and
disappointed to know that she would have to practice restraint when
giving herself a favor in the presence of others.  Nonetheless her
skill served her in good stead.  During her undergraduate years she
was able to apply it to faculty members, both male and female, to
render them momentarily helpless and under her control.  An
unfortunate aspect of this, however, was that many of her victims
came to believe that they were in love with her.  This included the
poor gentleman with whom she had first confirmed her power, who
became so infatuated with her that she ultimately had to dismiss him
and send him away.

    Over time Lillian learned to focus her power more effectively,
to the point where she could limit its effect to specific
individuals, provided there were no other people within a few feet
of her victim.  She also learned how to perform this procedure
without reaching orgasm on her own, a skill that she would use to
preserve her own sensibilities when necessary.

    Lillian continued to make use of her cerebral cunt, as she came
to call it, after entering the business world as a junior corporate
lawyer.  Many times she used it simply as a form of amusement for
herself, but she also used it to help her attain a substantial
reputation as a skilled negotiator who was able to win point after
point without the usual clamorous process employed by most
negotiators.  Heightening her reputation was the fact that at the
end of a negotiating session her adversaries often appeared to be
quite drained, while she was as fresh and composed as she had been
at the beginning.

    It was a few years later that Lillian learned her body had
virtually stopped aging, and decided to secure a medical degree in
the hope of understanding what was happening.

    I shall not attempt to explain any of this, nor will I discuss
what Lillian learned about herself after she had become a physician.
I simply offer the preceding account as it is, as it was told to me
by Lillian.  For reasons you will soon learn I know that what I have
said is true; I do not care if others believe it.  Instead, I shall
proceed at this point with my own tale.

    As might be expected, I was quite distressed.  I knew that I
could achieve an orgasm, that physically my body was capable of
doing so.  I had also learned how exquisite an orgasm can be.
However, nobody, Dr. McCall included, knew how to produce one for
me, the only exception being Dr. McCall's wonderful gift.

    The following evening, Jerome came to me and told me that his
father and a number of other prominent physicians had discussed my
problem and had agreed to provide funding for an experiment.
Assuming I was willing, Dr. McCall and I would take ourselves to a
retreat in the Swiss Alps, where she would attempt to teach me her
skills.  All the physicians, Dr. McCall included, were interested in
doing this to further medical science, and I, of course, simply
wanted to learn how to have an orgasm.

    The agreement was made, and off we went.  I truly wish I could
describe our experience in detail, but I shall not, for reasons that
will be apparent in a moment.  It will have to suffice to simply say
that Dr. McCall did teach me her meditation techniques, and she did
teach me how to achieve an orgasm through meditation.  I should add,
by the way, that, although our funding was sufficient for six
months, it only took her three weeks to teach me all this.  We spent
the remainder of the time we were in the Alps traveling and
sightseeing - and I spent an enormous amount of time practicing my
new skill.

    For all of this I am eternally grateful.  Mark my words
carefully.  I said I am eternally grateful, and this is the literal
truth.  Like Lillian McCall, who is now my closest friend, I too
seem to have stopped aging.

    With Lillian's permission I attempted to teach these techniques
to Jerome.  Unfortunately, he was unable to learn all the necessary
skills.  He became quite proficient at hands-free masturbation, so
to speak, but he was never able to cause others to reach an orgasm
in our unconventional way.  After some research, Lillian concluded
that men are simply not capable of doing what we can do.  Perhaps it
is just as well.

    Lillian and I know that we could become enormously wealthy by
making use of what we know, by teaching others for a fee.  For now,
however, we have made a pact to control the secret very carefully.
We do not wish to be responsible for what might happen to our
civilization if we reveal our secret.  It is too easy to teach, and
it would be only a very short time before the entire world - and all
the men - would be under the full control of immortal women.  You
will surely agree that such a circumstance would be completely
abhorrent to those who make up today's male-dominated power

    Of course, it might just be possible that Lillian and I have
been teaching our skills to others during the past eighty years.  If
we were, we would, of course, select our students very carefully,
limiting them only to women who fully understand the chaos they
could cause if their skills were taught to the wrong people.  We
would select perhaps only one or two women each year, and once
trained, they would be free to conduct the same kind of training.
However, I think Lillian and I would always reserve the right to
supervise the selection process until we were certain the new
inductee was choosing her own inductees judiciously.

    If we were to do this, the migration of our skills throughout
the female population would be gradual and controlled, with the
number of new inductees doubling each year.  By the time the world
caught on to what was happening, there would be enough of us to
manage the situation.

    Are we doing this?  Oh, of course not!  Contrary to popular
opinion, the vast majority of women have absolutely no interest in
controlling civilization.  Our men are doing a fine job, aren't
they?  Moreover, if we were training new women each year, we
certainly wouldn't want anybody to know about it.  We would probably
have to forcefully deny any specious accusations of that type.

    Oh, by the way:  I should point out that the rumors you might
have heard about a secret Amazon society are gr

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