Chapter 6
YOU CANT TEASE FOREVER
If at times we can contemplate the accounts of promiscuity among our young, we can readily remind ourselves that this is both a symptom and a product of our swift moving era, that the same decade that has taken men to the moon has also brought a new and alluring type of femininity to the American scene - the teen-aged and sub-teen temptress.
Why does a thirteen-year-old girl deliberately set out to seduce a man older than her father? Is she actually that sexually driven? Is her act one of true hostility for the adult or is it her own overpowering quest for sex with an experienced partner? How did she begin her search? And more important... where will it lead her?
The psychiatrists, sociologists and school authorities agree that in the majority of cases, it is the teen-aged girl who brings about her own sexual adventures - that more often than not, she is the aggressor. Whatever the case, whether conscious or subconscious, the incidence of seductiveness among the young continues to climb with alarming speed.
A recent case concerned the arrest of a teacher and his thirteen-year-old student. They were discovered in the acts of cunnilingus and fellatio at a motel. The teacher pleaded innocence due to the difficulty of resisting such an exciting sex partner.
"She kept after me until I thought I'd lose my mind," said the thirty-five-year-old teacher. "She wouldn't leave me alone. She called and made it a point to flaunt her body at me during every hour of classes during the day. And finally she told me that if I didn't make love to her -and make it to her the way she wanted - she would tell the school authorities that I tried to rape her. What can a man do when he's confronted by that?"
Many sociologists look at mass media as the culprit that has created greater and earlier sexuality among America's teen-aged girls. Some psychiatrists claim that the cause is subconscious, that the young female, tempted by advertising, permissive parents, and the hyper-accelerated emotions of our day, has greater opportunity to act out repressions that were once obliged to torment without expression.
The American teen-ager, should she wish to defend herself against charges of unusual promiscuity, need only look to history to find an ally for her case. The pages of history are scorched with the sexual capers of teen-agers from nearly every era of civilization's existence.
Cleopatra was a teen-aged temptress who used the lure of her body for political purposes. Madam Du Barry was so successful as a young mistress to her King that she was assigned the responsibilities of procurement of other teen-age beauties to satisfy the sexual tastes of monarchs and noblemen.
The harems of the East were crowded with girls of twelve, thirteen, fourteen and fifteen years who sought favors for themselves through their seductiveness. Competition among the girls was keen. Each girl tried to outdo the others in order to know the special attentions of their master. Many succeeded and became favorites of the harem. Most of the girls tried to win the favor of their master by the performance of special sexual deviations and fetishes that they thought would please him. And they did please him. Through every era of history.
Teasing, like most of our sex practices, is as old as time. There has never been a period during civilization's growth that teasing was not a weapon of the female species. Some 18th and 19th Century countries looked upon teasing as an attribute necessary in every woman. Many a mother in France and England during this period of time began instructions in the art of teasing when her daughter was still a mere child. The result, the mothers hoped, would be the acquisition of a rich and eligible male when the child reached the age for marriage, usually at fifteen, sixteen, or seventeen. With the daughter at her knee, the mother taught the art of smiling shyly, fluttering eyelids, walking properly, sitting demurely, nodding attentively to conversations, being careful not to talk too much or to appear too intelligent. A great deal of time was spent teaching the young females how to dress in a way that would arouse males; how to reveal enough of their bodies to catch an interested male eye without appearing cheap or low bred. And it has been written by some historians, mothers also no doubt taught their very young daughters the sexual ways of pleasing a man, what was expected of her, how she was expected to react when the time for coitus arrived.
The schoolroom siren is today's equivalent of the historic sexual teaser. The following cases reveal some of them in their more aggressive patterns.
CASE HISTORY
A change came over Rhoda M., when she became a high school sophomore. She suddenly ceased being shy. She had watched the operations of other girls in her classrooms, observed how they flirted, the results they got - even better marks from some male teachers in a few instances - and, she determined to become "one of the crowd," a true tease like the other girls in her class.
Rhoda had the qualifications for a seductress. She was five-and-a-half-feet tall, weighed a hundred and twenty pounds, was large-busted, slim-hipped, narrow-waisted, and had long, smooth legs. She dressed attractively, usually in a sweater or blouse and a short, tight skirt; attire that was the uniform of the average high school girl. Rhoda was also a good student. This added to her attributes. Her hair was auburn and was combed in a short cut that allowed curls to bounce below her ears. Her eyes were dark brown. She soon learned to use them as a prop for attention. She would first stare at a boy, smile, then, while she held a pencil she would take one end of it into her mouth, nibbling at it in a nervous manner, sometimes darting her pink tongue out to peck at the very end of it as if it were a lollipop. She found that this was a most effective method of securing the attention of boys, effective, too, at conveying the hints of what excitement a hot, girl-tongue could bring to a boy.
She brought innovation to her campaign of flirtation. She began attending school minus the usual bra. This was extremely effective. Nearly every boy stared at her as she walked through the corridors, her young breasts bouncing beneath her sweater or blouse, the nipples of them creasing the material in a line that told of their erection, their hardness, perhaps even of their heat. At first she felt a bit insecure without the customary bra, but she soon learned to be comfortable with the free flow of her breasts and the generating effects they had on the school males.
Until she was fifteen, Rhoda dated infrequently. When she did, it was usually with a boy of her own age, on a double date, or some event that did not provide the privacy that was needed for sexual activity. This changed, too, when she became a sophomore. Now, she thirsted for the attention - and the resultant requests for dates - from the seniors of the school, the popular boys who were already dating or "going steady" with some of the older girls. Rhoda liked the athletes of the school, too. They seemed like a special challenge to her. She knew that they expected sex from any girl they dated.
The very first result of her sophomore year flirtations provided Rhoda with ample attention - more than she had anticipated.
The eighteen-year-old center on the school football team asked for a date. She agreed. She had been hoping to attract the tall, handsome boy for several weeks. And now she had succeeded.
It was Saturday night when the boy, Gary D., picked up Rhoda in his car. Rhoda was excited about this first date that was a direct result of her flirtations. School was forgotten for the weekend. The evening was ahead of them.
Gary had nothing special planned for the evening. Rhoda suggested that they visit the different drive-in restaurants, to see which of their friends were there, then, from that point, "play it cool." Gary agreed. Rhoda was happy. There was a reason for her suggestion. She couldn't wait to "show-off" in front of her schoolmates, to let them know that she was on a true date with one of the most attractive boys in the school.
Gary and Rhoda found several friends at the first drive-in they visited. She felt her heart race with excitement when all of them - mostly friends of his - greeted her as one of the crowd. During the school hours they hardly knew she existed. Her date was the difference. She had found acceptance with seniors. She found the same acceptance at the next drive-in. They visited two more, found none of their crowd present, then sat in the car, sipping soft drinks and wondering what to do next.
"How about a movie?" Gary asked.
"Sounds good," Rhoda replied. "Which one?"
"Who cares," he laughed as he threw their empty paper cups out the window and zoomed the car into action.
Gary parked the car into a space between two cars, each of which held teen-agers in front and back seats, all of whom were busily engaged in the preliminaries of sex. Rhoda could not take her eyes from the activity in the cars; could not, that is, until Gary started his own sex preliminaries.
The boy braked the car, took the speaker from its stand, adjusted it to the partially opened window, turned the volume to medium, then turned to Rhoda, hooked his hands around her shoulders and crushed her close to his lean body.
Gary kissed her hard, soft, hard again, then alternately hard and soft until her lips parted and he was able to shoot his tongue deeply into her mouth. Rhoda took it. Then she whimpered. Then she drew upon it, at the same time swinging her breasts from side to side against the boy's hard chest. Teasing had led to gross seduction. She could not help it.
Their lips parted and they rubbed their cheeks together, resting for the new kiss that would soon begin. Gary moved his hand to the outside of her sweater. He kneaded her breasts. Then he lowered his hand and slipped it inside the bottom of the sweater. It was moving upward when Rhoda clasped it, hugged it to her and restrained its upward progress.
"No," she said.
"Ah, come on," Gary said. "Let's get going!"
She was silent. She thought of the excitement that rippled through her body, of the pride she took in having him date her. She thought of the envy of some of her girl friends. She thought of the acceptance she had suddenly, by her mere presence with Gary, received from the high school seniors. And then she felt a warmth of gratitude toward him for his presence, for the date she was sharing with him. She relented.
She removed her hand from his. He shot it upward. His fingers crunched her flesh, then twirled her nipple, making it grow hotter, and bigger, and in a greater sign of her sexual responsiveness. The boy's body began to tremble. When she moved one hand from his neck and let it lower, she could feel the pounding bulge of his penis almost bursting through his trousers. Then she did not move her hand. Not to restrain him. She moved it tight upon him in a grip that transferred the urgency that coursed throughout her own body.
He gasped and bent her a little lower in the front seat of the car. He worked his knee upward, jammed it between her thighs and ground it there, slowly and carefully in a sign of desire. She did not deny it. She could not. The new genes of her womanhood were already shouting and spurting for release. Her skirt worked higher upon her body until it made a bunched circle around her waist. She was without panties. She felt the circling grind of his knees against flesh that loved that touch and yearned for more. And suddenly, there was something more that sought contact. He had released one hand from where he held her. He had lowered it, then lowered a zipper tab, and now it was his penis that probed instead of his knee. Rhoda, who had released her grip upon him while his hand fumbled between then, brought it into contact again. And this new touch of hand upon flesh made her shiver, made her gasp, caused her body to arch upward in a sign of pleading.
He pressured his body atop her, forcing her head far below the arm rest on the door. He fought for position, for entrance and attainment. And he had nearly achieved it when she suddenly bolted upright in her seat, pushing him away from her.
"What's the matter?" he exclaimed, reaching to bring her close again. "Aren't you ready yet?"
"I can't. I'm sorry, but I can't let you. I just can't, that's all," Rhoda said.
"Shit!" he said loudly. Then added, "And after all the playing around you did to get me hot. After all that, and now you're not going to let me screw you!"
"Not because I don't want to," she told him. "It's just that I can't."
"Can't-shit!" he said. "Why can't you? You got a cunt, haven't you?" His voice was tinged with dissatisfaction and disgust. "All the other girls let me do it to them. Hell - they ask me to do it to them!"
"I know - but -"
"You're just a goddamn prick-teaser, that's all," he snarled at her. He shifted his body away from her, but didn't zip up his trousers. His hard penis continued to point at her like an accusing finger - a great big finger! He stared straight ahead at the screen, hardly seeing it. He remained quiet.
Finally Rhoda said, "Please, try to understand."
"What's to understand," he muttered. "I want to fuck, and you don't. All you want to do is tease, and then go home and finger-fuck yourself, while I go home and jack off. Well, that ain't my style!"
Rhoda sat quiet and thoughtful. She tried to think of something that she could say that would placate the handsome boy. And then she remembered some conversations she had overheard among the more promiscuous girls in her class. She remembered hearing them discuss substitutions for actual sexual intercourse, substitutions that some of the boys seemed to like even better then the real thing.
She recalled one of the girls saying, "I was having my messy period, so I gave him a blow job and he went wild, clear out-of-sight wild! That's all he ever wants now! I can hardly get him to do it to me the old-fashioned way!"
"I can't bring myself to suck cock," another girl had said, "but I do give a great jack-off job, if I say so myself."
All these remembered words buzzed through Rhoda's mind as she sat beside Gary in the darkened car.
"Gary... " she said cautiously.
He turned and looked at her but did not make a comment.
"Maybe -"
"Maybe what?" he said. "Maybe you want to do a little more prick-teasing, eh?"
"No."
"Then, what?"
"Maybe I can do something else for you."
He brightened. "Like What?"
"Like-like-" She paused, incapable of finding the words that would express what she now proposed.
His hand reached out and kneaded her breasts on the outside of her sweater again. Then he looked into her eyes and asked, "Like what? What will you do for me?"
"Anything," she replied. "Anything you want, just so long as you won't be mad at me."
"Anything?"
"Yes. Anything."
"I'm not mad at you," he said, suddenly purring like a cat. "It's just that these things - well, they're awful hard on a guy. Some gals, well, you know, they never intend to do anything for him."
"I'm not like that."
"I know you're not." he said.
Slowly, he pressured her close again. They clashed in a new embrace. New kisses were traded. Touches were traded, too. Then, almost before she realized what was happening, she was lying face down and close to his extended penis. And then he urged her closer. Then closer still. And soon she was upon him and working, working, working feverishly to make him forget the refusal she had made only a few minutes earlier, to make him forget everything but her nearness, her efficiency, the thrill he was receiving from her and the promise of many more such episodes if only he would not forget her, if only he would date her again.
He did. Steadily, until he graduated from high school and for some months afterwards. Finally, he enlisted in the Air Force and was shipped to an overseas base, leaving her alone until she found a new boy to tease and then to please.
CASE HISTORY
Janet, when she was fourteen and just entering high school, confided in a friend that she "got all hot" when she looked at a boy she liked. The friend understood. She had been the same way, she explained to Janet. She, too, had been nervous about boys until she let loose with them. This gave her confidence, the friend claimed. Janet should try the same thing. After all, it was like class work. It built confidence. Flirting could do the same thing.
For several weeks Janet pondered her friend's advice. Then she decided to take it. She led on every boy who was a likely prospect, even some who were not. She began to get results. Many times she would turn to find a boy staring at the bare thigh she had purposely exposed. Sometimes she felt a boy standing close, peering at the front of her blouse that she had deliberately left parted and open to a span of breast. And Janet found that a slight bump of her body against a boy as they crowded together in the school corridors produced some amazing results, often at the very center of the boy's trousers.
Confidence came to Janet quickly. So did the invitations for dates. She had many, during which she indulged in very heavy sex play without intercourse. But it was at a party that her flirting led her directly to a bedroom and the loss of her virginity.
The setting for the party was a school chum's home. The occasion was her fifteenth birthday. The house was spacious, upper-middle class, and private. Her parents decided that it was best if they went out for the evening, and they left the children to their own methods of celebration. The youngsters thought so, too.
Twenty members of the high school attended the party. They were invited as individuals, not in couples. This was best, the hostess thought. It would be more exciting.
Two non-school strangers were also members of the party group. They were the hostess' cousins, and the girl had invited them with the others. They were older; the boy about twenty, the girl just out of high school.
Janet was attracted to the older boy at once. So were most of the girls, for he was tall, light-haired, and very handsome. His name was Marty. Janet thought it the most wonderful name she had ever heard.
The very first words the boy spoke to her, filled her with excitement.
"Come on, love, let's dance," Marty said, stopping before Janet where she was sitting with a friend in the recreation room.
She pretended to be indignant. But she pushed up from her chair and glided into the boy's arms. She pressed close, melting herself into every line and curve of his body.
They moved once around the floor, then Marty said, "You really are a teaser, you know."
"I'm not," she protested.
"Oh, yes you are." He pressured his hand tighter against the small of her back.
"I'm not a tease, I just like people and can't help showing it," Janet explained.
"You show it fine," the boy laughed. "All of it."
While they danced, she became aware of the steady tightening of his grip upon her body. His hand pressed hard at her back. Sometimes their knees and thighs bumped. She could feel her breasts burrowing into his chest and from time to time she felt the jolt of his strong penis strike at her much as if it were uttering a call of its own, entirely separate from his will. She did not mind the closeness of their bodies. In fact, she rather liked it. Dancing with this older boy - the oldest she had ever been with - made Janet feel very competent and mature, very desirable, and very much the sophisticated young lady.
Almost before she realized what was happening, he danced her to the stairs leading out of the recreation room.
"Come on, I want to show you something upstairs," he said, with a sly grin on his face.
"The fun's down here," she said.
"Maybe I can show you more fun upstairs," he said.
When she drew back a pace, he spoke again, saying, "Come on, I was only joking. I want to show you some of the ceramics I've done."
"You make ceramics?" she exclaimed.
"Yes. But only for friends. Like my cousin over there. I brought her some new ones tonight. Let me show them to you."
She consented. She even took the hand he offered for guidance as she ascended the stairs. And she continued to hold it as he led her through the kitchen, the dining room, up the stairs and then down the hall until they arrived at the room at the end.
He opened the door and stood aside for Janet to enter. He followed her and closed the door behind them. Then he went to a table and uncovered a group of small statuary, none of them larger than a few inches. He smiled as he returned to Janet where she waited, standing by the bed.
"Go on, sit down," he encouraged. "I'm not going to bite you -"
She lowered to the edge of the bed. In a moment, he settled himself next to her. Then he handed her some of the small statues.
When she lowered her eyes to the first one, she felt shock, nausea, and fear all bunched together in a hard knot at her throat. Although obviously well done, the statue was one of sexual obscenity.
"This is called realism," he explained casually. Janet's eyes glued to the man and woman figures who were involved in an act of oral love-making. Although she sensed that she had become involved in something she was not yet equipped to handle, she could not take her eyes from the figures which looked very real with even the smallest details of anatomy expertly depicted.
"Go on, look at the next one," he said. "They get better as you go along."
Janet took up another work. Again she felt the choke of shock, for again the statue was pornographic. But again she could not keep her eyes from viewing the sex act with complete fascination.
"You like that one, eh?" Marty said, with a grin.
Janet shoved the statues away from her, attempting to make him take them. He would not. Instead, he suddenly grasped her to him and clamped his mouth upon hers as the statues dropped to the floor.
His kiss was different from any Janet had yet received. She liked it, but it seemed to be sparked with some special kind of madness. But she allowed the kiss, allowed it casually as if it were the acceptable thing to do before departing the room to join the others. But they did not leave the room. He groaned then fought Janet to her back. She fought back, sure now that the handsome boy was in some way deranged, that the statues he had created, combined with having her alone in the room, had coupled together to threaten her.
When she struck one hand out, attempting to scrape his face with her fingernails, he struck her hard on the jaw, sending her reeling to her back, blanking out the moment, the night, the scene of him tearing at her clothing.
Very soon, consciousness returned to her. She felt the bareness of her exposed breasts, her flat bare belly - all of her - and she knew that she had been stripped of all her clothing during the interval of her unconsciousness. She pushed a bit upward, started to raise, then felt a new blow upon her body, one issuing from him at the side of the bed. She fell back. But she remained alert. She turned and looked at Marty and saw that he was nude. And as she looked at his naked and aroused body, she knew that her teasing had brought her to this situation.
Marty knelt down beside her, leaned his head across her body and started sucking on her breast. She felt a thrill of pleasure. This was the first time she had ever been naked with a naked boy beside her. She reached out and pressed his head closer to her. She felt his head move beneath her hand, and then his lips were gliding down along her body, nibbling, sucking, licking. Almost against her will, she gave herself up to the pleasure of the moment.
She felt his lips trace the line of her thigh, and then his face burrowing into the hot cavern between her thighs. Instinctively, she spread her legs slightly, and then his tongue darted into the opening she had provided for him. The pleasure that she felt became almost too much to bear.
She spread her legs a little wider, bending her knees at the same time, and his hot tongue went deeper into her. And then she felt her whole body respond to the darting tongue. In an arching crescendo, she felt her body reach up, up, up, and she cried out in a spasm of delight that she hoped could go on forever.
And when he knew, by her cry, that she had reached a climax, Marty acted urgently to achieve a climax of his own. He took his mouth away from the hot cavern of her thighs, and brought his body on top of hers, his hard organ already battering at her moist vagina. There it met resistance. He tried to shove it in, but an unseen barrier held him back.
"Be careful," she whispered. "Don't hurt me!"
"Hurt you?" he asked. "Are you still cherry? Never been fucked?"
"No," she said. "Never. Not really. Not this way."
He got up off her and walked over to a dresser across the room. He got a jar of vaseline from one of the drawers. He came back to her and spread the vaseline liberally around in her vagina. Then he put an equally liberal coating of it on his throbbing penis. Once more he mounted her, and, more gently now, he eased his swollen organ into her. She gasped, with a momentary hurt, and then with a greater pleasure.
"Oh, Christ," he said, gasping with pleasure too. "It's like fucking whipped cream. I felt your cherry go. Did you?"
She nodded her head, in rhythm with his organ pumping into her. In a little while she felt his whole body tense, and then he lunged into her more deeply than before, and she felt spurt after spurt of liquid heat shoot into her. He rested a moment, then said, "That's it, baby. The first load of cock juice you ever took up there! Did you like it?"
"Pretty wild!" she said. "Do you still think I'm a tease?"
Marty laughed, and started nibbling on her breast again.