Swapping By Computer

In the 70's the system of swapping has grown ever more sophisticated. To those so inclined there are numerous computerized "love machines" ready to be fed data and then to expel a compatible "mate-match." These computer information cards are not for the hesitant, unknowing or sexually unaware persons. They are frank in their queries and equally frank replies are expected. As an example, a card picked at random from many of our research file, states: How often do you want to fuck?

Will you suck cock?

Do you prefer the pussy-lick or the ass-lick? Will you take prick up the ass? Will you swallow cock juice? There is still another aspect to swapping that deals specifically with the male-female differentiation. Will the swap party restore masculinity?

A great many males say yes, that having more than one woman makes them feel like the prize bull in a pen of panting cows.

In the present retreat from masculinity and the drift toward unisex, something must be done. We are living in a period when you can't tell the boys from the girls. This drift towards unisex is not only in clothing, but in attitudes and styles of life, as well.

What are the masculine and feminine traits? In this day and age when the traits have been so thoroughly blended in a large number of individuals, perhaps it is wise to define them.

By television standards, the real male achieves his ends by being tough, brutal, aggressive, reckless, and indifferent to human suffering. However, these traits can alienate friends and encourage difficulties with the law. Margaret Mead, and others, in studies of primitive tribes, report that masculine traits differ greatly from one tribe to another. The best definition, probably, is that a masculine trait is one found most often in men; a feminine trait is the one found most often in women.

By common standards, a boy who likes football is considered masculine. One who likes ballet, poetry and music is considered feminine. Obviously, this is a bias and prejudice of our society, and a standardized thing. Most psychiatrists will tell you that overemphasis on sports in the adult male is a means of covering up masculine inadequacies. Statistics reveal a large number of homosexuals among athletes of all types.

Anyway, the American male is losing his manhood. Why? Does our modern society contribute to this?

Many authorities blame our elementary and secondary schools, our high divorce rate, and too dominant mothers. Murders are often committed by these nice, quiet guys reared under the maternal shadow. Oswald and Sirhan are examples of this. Estranged from male associations, and overexposed to female norms, they picked as their targets virile men, symbols of their own manly deprivations. Teachers, many of them old maids and abnormal characters, have encouraged the effeminate boy. He is neat, polite, and makes the best grades.

But can he become an effective leader of men?

The Army and the business world say no.

Do we live in a man's world, or is the female dominating modern society? There are the pros and cons, but statistics show that there are more males than females in our mental institutions.

The modern woman has given up her femininity to compete with men, and her struggles make her dislike and resent males. She takes her revenge in subtle ways, for women are by nature more subtle than men. Because of the inferior position to which men have previously relegated women, they have responded by forcing young boys to become effeminate in order to get along at home and in school. When they grow up, these boys often counter-respond by keeping women in inferior positions. So the vicious circle continues.

Can a boy excel academically without losing his masculinity? By the conventional definition of "masculinity," perhaps he can't. But the real man has numerous interests, and there is nothing about playing football which makes him more virile than playing the piano. Virility, springs from a healthy body and mind.

"You can't tell the boys from the girls," you often hear people say. But, thank God, there are still biological ways you can! And as long as a male isn't robbed of his precious penis, or castrated by his domineering mother, or some other female, he's a man!

"Night after night, my husband comes home from work all tired out," one wife wails. "He's nervous, irritable, and he barely touches his supper: Most of the time, he just sits around awhile, then drops into bed. He's asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow. Often, he doesn't even kiss me goodnight. Yet, I know he's a good man-one who really loves me."

She goes on to say that he's always "simply dead on his feet." His interest in sex is zero.

He never had any pep and energy, and the wife, at first, supposed his condition was caused by a deficiency of vitamins and minerals. She ordered him a thirty-day supply of high-potency capsules. The ad had read: "He'll be like a new man in less than no time. He'll have more strength, stamina, and energy, and he'll lose that tired, run-down feeling."

When the medication came, she handed the bottle to her husband and said, "Take these. You have nothing to lose."

He took the full bottle of capsules that contained, among other things, Vitamins A, B, C, and B-12, one of the most remarkable potent nutrients science has yet discovered.

At the end of the thirty days, he had not improved.

The young wife was frantic. She couldn't remember the last time they'd fucked, and she was hot between the legs! Again, she read newspapers and magazines, hoping to come upon a solution.

She found it in an ad which announced a new "computerized dating service." You merely sent in a quarter, which was inserted in a "Cupid Machine." You would receive confidentially a card containing the name and phone number of a "compatible" stranger.

She mailed in her quarter, and in a few days, she received her card in a plain envelope. Enclosed was a warning: "This company will not be responsible for the looks of the date, the activities of the date, or anything which happens thereafter."

The young wife got cold feet. She began to think that machines should be limited to dispensing candy, soft drinks, and ice cream.

However, she managed to read on. "The purpose of the questionnaire you answered was to match a male and female with similar interests, and especially in matters of sex." That bolstered her courage. While her husband was at work, she got on the phone and called the number on the card.

A man with a nice, deep voice answered. In the brief conversation which followed, he seemed to have more interest in intellectual than in sexual pursuits. For a time, the young wife wondered if his "interests" might not be too honorable. She felt disappointed, but he seemed to be a good conversationalist, and she felt lonely. Just talking to somebody would be better than nothing. She made a date to meet him at her apartment the next day while her husband was at work.

He arrived promptly at the set time. He was a dark, handsome, aggressive fellow who reeked of sex. He told her to call him Bert.

She nodded. "I'm Flora," she said, feeling anticipatory flutters in her loins and a warmth in her breasts. She motioned him to the sofa.

They talked awhile, and Flora learned that he was a truck driver, temporarily out of work. He had wonderful arm muscles and a slim waist. After a time, he asked Flora if he might have a glass of water. She brought it from the kitchen, and he dissolved two dark pills in it before he drank. In less than five minutes, he was dynamite.

"Get out of your clothes," he ordered, as he started shucking out of his. He had a huge, hard cock that already was dripping. He took some pillows from the couch and placed them on the heavy carpet..

"That's gonna be your crib, chick," he said. "You're gonna lay there and let me fuck you till your stomach's full of jism!" He watched her for her reaction.

She smiled and asked, "Where is all the jism going to come from?"

He grinned and wagged his big cock in her face. "From here, kid! When I take them pills, I can come forever!"

She felt his cock, and it was as hard as a brick.

"Come on!" he said. "Lay down and spread!"

He fell upon her and began teasing her nipples. She bucked upward, and there was only one thing now she lived for, to have his big dick in her snatch.

He rubbed a hot hand down her thigh, felt her wet pussy. A finger opened her pussy lips. Her hands fumbled for his cock. "Here," she said, "let me put it in."

It was tight, and for a moment, he could only get the head in.

"Sweetie, you got nice tits," he said, massaging them.

She wiggled beneath him, and the big, hard cock slipped in another inch. He grunted, then gave a little squeal of delight.

He squealed, again, when he finally got it all in. "Oh, boy-"

Flora squirmed on the carpet. God, she felt full and tight! But she bucked up to him and tried to squeeze his cock with her pussy lips.

He jerked under her. "Wow-wowee-oh-I wish my wife did what you're doing!"

She managed to work his hard eight inches deep inside her. "You got a wife?" she asked.

"Yeah. An' I already know you've got a husband , She worked up and down on him, and he began to babble. "Oh, holy Jesus-oh! Oh, Christ, I never had a fuck like this!"

Flora enjoyed his praise and tried further to please him. Most of all, she enjoyed his big cock deep in her. She gave him everything she had.

He began breathing fast. "Ummmm. I'm close. I'm close, Flora. Oh, Lord, I'm-"

He stiffened. He was gurgling as Flora felt a substantial amount of his sperm shoot into her. He gasped and groaned as more of his life fluid spasmed from his body and into her eager hole.

He kept coming. She bucked and wiggled, lashing up at him, until she had him drained. He pushed at her with trembling hands. "Oh, stop," he begged. "Mmmm-stop, stop."

She'd also reached her climax. Reluctantly, she stopped.

He lay upon her a long time. Finally, he let his wilting cock slip from her pussy. "We'll do it again pretty soon," he promised. "That was terrific!"

Flora lay on the carpet and waited.

Soon, he was in her again.

She fucked him seven times that afternoon.

Before he left, she asked him about the pills.

He gave her half a dozen and told her where she could buy more.

Flora made her husband take two of them that night. It wasn't any time at all until he had a hard-on, the first one he'd had in months. He fucked her that night, and it was good, but not as good as it had been with the stranger.

The next night, with the help of the pills, Flora's young husband did better. Even though they'd now resumed sexual relations, Flora continued to use the computer. She was always happiest on the afternoons she drew the young fellow named Bert.

Even the best computers, however, sometimes goof. In the original questionnaire, Flora had been asked to rate her sexual attitudes. She'd answered "very liberal." According to computer statistics, that meant a girl was ready and willing for anything. If a girl just rated herself as "liberal," it usually mean a guy would have to take her out to dinner before he could get in her panties.

Well, when Flora set up her next computer date in a motel room, she was face to face with her own husband! He, too, had joined the computer dating game.

And somebody had taught him a bunch of tricks!

He'd chosen Flora because she was "very liberal." He'd learned how to get some way-out sexual kicks. After the first shock of meeting was over, he got down to business-fast! He almost paralyzed Flora with pleasure-pain when he socked his cock into her, penetrating her womb. He liked her pleasure screams when he prodded her clit. He pulled his cock out and wanted her to suck it. She buried her head between his lean thighs.

"A little higher-more tongue-" he moaned. "Oh, that's the spot! More-more-"

For about fifteen minutes, they had an orgy of fun. Flora lifted her head from between her husband's thighs, and her mouth was smeared with wetness.

"Suck me," she begged.

His mouth covered her pussy, and his lips tugged at her clit. She screamed in exquisite plea sure. He tried to get his long tongue all the way up her guts. He tickled her ass.

He pulled away and said, "Come on, now. Get down and lick my button!"

She loved his cock in her mouth.

"All right," he said at last. "I want to suck your nipples."

"All right." She sat up and reached back. She writhed and panted as he sucked her soft-firm breasts. He nipped and scraped her nipple lightly with his teeth. She hissed as her climax gathered and tightened in her loins.

"Oh, Christ!" she cried, bucking against her husband's mouth and thrashing her arms. He pulled away from her velvet breasts just as she climaxed. Once more, he kissed her nipple lightly, then flopped her on her back. He gave a sighing, breathy moan and ran his cock into her. It was wetness against wetness, heat against heat as he bucked and plunged.

She closed her pussy lips around his hard, stiff organ. He was drawing air through his nose as he pressed deep into her. And then he spasmed on top of her, screaming with pleasure. He gasped, and his fingers dug deep into her buttocks.

And then it was all over.

Sometime later, Flora had sex with Bert again. It was he who suggested he bring his wife along the next time and the two couples enjoy a swap party. Flora talked it over with her husband, and it was agreeable with him.

The computer service puts it this way: "A lot of lonely people are looking for romance, companionship, or simply sex without involvement. We cut the tape for them and tell them where the commodity they want is available."

From there on, it's up to the two parties involved.