Chapter 14
"A Girl From A Nice Family"
Most people spend a great deal of time thinking about sex. The marvels of sex provide the most interesting subject in the world to think about. It makes a lot of people pensive.
Dina B. says it makes her dreamy. "I'm inclined to be a dreamer anyway," she offered. "I was sitting there in the park, thinking about sex, and I had my skirt hiked up, but not enough to show my twat. A man walked up and said something to me."
It was getting dark, but she hadn't noticed. "What did you say?" she asked the man.
The man answered, "I said you're looking for trouble, young lady, sitting around in the park, showing your legs! Don't you know what sort of people may come along this time of night? All kinds of perverts and degenerates. You don't know what those people are like!"
"Like what?" she asked innocently.
"Bad people," he said. "Bad isn't the half of it," he added sagely, taking a good look at Dina's pretty legs. "Some of the people who come into this park surprise me, and I don't surprise easy! You look like a nice girl, and I'm telling you for your own good. Why don't you go home before you get into trouble?"
"Trouble?" Dina echoed in a little girl's voice. But she saw immediately that her little girl act wasn't quite good enough. The men looked at her with professional suspicion. He was innately suspicious, she knew, and she figured that suspicious persons knew the ropes.
"Where do you live?" he asked.
She told him, making her voice sound open and frank. And yet, she managed to put a sort of invitation in it, too. He was a middle-aged man, but he was pretty well built and looked as if he weren't entirely innocent of sex. "I live with my daddy," she said. "My daddy's a doctor-"
"I knew you were a nice girl and sort of figured you didn't know this part of town," he hurried to tell her. "It's a rotten district. It's no good. Take it from me! I know!"
"What do you know?" she asked, still giving him that innocent look.
He looked at her intently and stepped closer to her. "Didn't you see that old man in sneakers? He's a dirty rat, a filthy degenerate!"
"I saw him," Dina said. "I saw him scratching himself under his coat. What does he do?"
"Do?" the irate man asked. "Why, it's too filthy for me to tell you! I don't know how a human being could sink so low!" He was talking to the whole wide world now, and the world didn't answer. Nearby, on a patch of darkened grass, two people were carrying on, but the man was so interested in Dina that he didn't notice them
"I guess people are funny," Dina declared.
"I'd say the word's peculiar!" the man said.
"You mean they're sexually abnormal?" Dina asked, batting her eyes. "My daddy says there's an awful lot of that going around these days. He thinks it's the decline of religion, or something."
"You're daddy's right," the middle-aged man said. "But it doesn't seem right for a girl like you to mention sex. I mean, a girl who's educated and has had upbringing."
The man was looking at Dina's legs when he said that. He licked his lips, and Dina wondered if he'd be interested in a little offbeat sex. She didn't know, but she had hopes of finding out.
She wondered what kind of shape the man's cock was in. Was it big? Did he have big balls? She hoped it was big. Other people, she knew, tried to suppress thoughts like that, but she gloried in them.
The man said, "You look like a girl come from a nice family. Don't you think you'd better go home?"
"I come from a family of nice twats," she said, giving him a come-on look.
She saw that the man was heating up a little. His pants were bulging out.
"You're a young lady with some experience? Is that what you mean?"
She gave him an innocent smile and furrowed her pretty brow. "I mean, a man like you should know a lot about sex."
She saw that the man was delighted. He looked proud.
"Tell me this," she said, "do you sometimes get an erection while you're looking at a pair of pretty legs, legs like mine?"
The man blushed, and his face reddened. But he said honestly, "A pretty ass, or a nice pair of legs will make me get a hard-on."
"You hard now?" Dina asked.
"You bet!"
She invited, "Want me to do something about it?"
They sat on a park bench, and Dina herself unzipped the man's pants and pulled his big, hard cock out. Her mouth watered to taste the man's hard prick. Its red head stood up straight in the air.
She soothed it with her hands, then bent down and kissed it tenderly with her lips. The man pushed up and squirmed. He may have been in his forties, but he was young as all get-out in his lower parts. She'd never seen a young buck get that hard that fast.
When she took his cock into her mouth, it felt like a lead pipe, only warm and sort of salty-sweet. It spread her lips until they almost hurt. It was difficult to keep her teeth from contacting it. She lashed her tongue as best she could and began to move her head up and down.
"That's good," he said. "But I like it better if you move the skin up and down with your hand while you suck."
Dina obeyed, loving the feel of the big, bulky thing in her mouth while she sucked. She hoped that he'd shoot a lot of cream into her throat.
She pumped his cock and sucked contentedly on his big glans. It was no time at all until he said shakily, "I'm gonna come!"
She pumped his cock faster and sucked quickly with her mouth and tongue. His cock felt enormous, tension-stiff. Then he groaned loudly, and his semen, thick as syrup, gushed deep into her mouth. She tried to swallow, but the size of his cock prevented it. The thick, white stuff escaped her mouth and ran down onto her pumping hand.
She didn't stop until he commanded her to. He took a handkerchief from his hip pocket and wiped her hands, then gently kissed them.
He didn't put his cock away, but it lost size and drooped upon his pants. He wiped it with the handkerchief and grinned. He said, "You're damned good at that!"
"I'll do it again, if you want," she said.
"I'll take you up on that in a few minutes. I can go as many as three times if I'm primed good."
Dina took his cock into her hand again and pumped it slowly. It became half hard.
She leaned over and kissed its red head, then licked it for a moment. She felt it surge once more with vitality. She made cooing sounds, then opened her mouth to take it again. She continued pumping and sucking.
It was only a minute until the man spurted into her mouth again. There was not as much this time, and not as thick. He grasped the bench arm and gasped, throwing his head from side to side.
Afterward, he put his cock away and zipped up his pants. He glanced at his watch and sighed, "That will have to do for tonight. I've got to get on home."
He looked down at Dina, cuddled against him.
"Let me come with you," she said. "We can do it some more at your place."
"No, that's not a good idea," he said.
"Oh, please let me come with you!" Dina begged.
"I can't, don't you see? I've got a wife and three kids. Three little girls. They're six, eight and ten." He smiled, and his smile asked Dina not to make a fuss, not to be troublesome.
"All right," she said, pouting.
"Look, you're making me feel guilty as hell. Do you need any money anything?"
"Only your nice cock in my mouth," Dina said. She started walking away, toward the street. Suddenly, she stopped and turned back to look at the man. "Tell me one thing," she demanded. "Do you ever let your three little girls suck your cock?"
"What?" the man sputtered, his face turning red. "What did you say? Why, in all my life-"
"I was just asking," Dina said. "Nice fucking around with you."
She got out of the park fast.
Recently, there was a sex trial which was of unusual interest. The case of Henry O. got only a brief mention in the newspapers. Perhaps it was because the whole thing seemed so unbelievable, so fantastic. After all, how many men do you know who have fucked and sucked five hundred women by false pretenses? Henry O. was such a man.
Nancy Z. was a society girl from a good family, who was working as a newspaper reporter. She became interested in Henry O's case. As she told her boss, even if he had managed to screw only 499 women, it still would have been an extraordinary case. According to his few newspaper photos, he was an ugly man. "Yet he must have something the cameras didn't catch," Nancy told her boss.
She intended to find out what it was.
Nancy had read about Casanova in her college days. He had lost count of his conquests somewhere in the six hundreds. He had been the greatest cocksman of his time. It looked now as if Henry O. might have outdone him.
For Nancy, there was magic in this man, Henry O. He was to go on trial on a number of charges, and she was grateful for the opportunity to cover the trial; perhaps see, and even touch, this great man. If he were acquitted, she'd try to be the first in line to congratulate this great cocksman.
She hurried to Kansas City and informally interviewed a number of people. One woman said they ought to put him away for life. "My husband is just as disgusted as I am," she added.
Nancy talked to the husband. She asked, giving the gentleman her best smile, "Now, if you're truly honest, don't you feel just a little bit jealous of this man?"
The man was nervous. He cleared his throat and tried to protest. But it was the wife who was furious. Nancy knew that if she were a man, she'd sure as hell hate to be that woman's husband.
Most men, away from their wives, admitted they were a little envious of Henry O's sexual powers. A few thought that Henry was sort of 'touched in the head'.
But confusion, Nancy had already discovered, was a typical American reaction to any inquiry about sex.
"Why would that man do such a crazy thing?" one man asked. "It doesn't make sense. All those girls, I mean."
"Perhaps he seduced them because he enjoyed it," Nancy suggested. "That could be his reason, couldn't it?"
"Oh, I guess he enjoyed it, all right. But that doesn't prove he isn't crazy! like I said a real nut case."
Nancy wanted desperately to interview at least one of the five hundred girls Henry O. had seduced. She finally was able to approach Olga M., who was pretty and brainless.
"What was your reaction?" Nancy pushed.
"Oh, he was just a little man-"
Nancy giggled in spite of her attempt to appear professional. "He couldn't have been so little, could he, what with all those women?"
"What I mean," Olga M. babbled. "What I mean is that I don't know what I mean. If you know what I mean?"
"I think I do," Nancy said, smiling. "He couldn't have had a little dong, or he wouldn't have had all those sexy women." She paused and giggled. "Tell me," she added, "did you ever think you might get involved in something like this?"
Olga M. was offended, and she pouted. She looked so annoyed that Nancy decided not to question her further. But there was one more question, and she had to ask it.
"How did it feel?" she asked brashly.
Olga M. colored delicately. "How can you ask such a thing?"
Nancy thought the girl's question was stupid. But she knew what the girl meant. And she figured somebody had fooled around with some kinky sex.
Hell, she knew that man had something, else he wouldn't have been such a success. She thought about Henry O. and the emotions he seemed to arouse in so many people. God, she wanted to see him close-up.
She had a very difficult time getting into the jail. Only when she got a bit sexy with one of the jailers was she let in. "Why is this Henry O. so despicable?" she asked the jailer. "What has he done that makes him so terrible?"
"This fellow is a criminal. Yeah, a criminal type, sure!"
"You mean, he stole money from all those women?" she asked innocently, knowing the prisoner hadn't. "It certainly would be criminal if he did that."
"Naw, he never stole nothin'. He seduced them five hundred women!"
"So that makes him a bad man? Didn't these women want to be seduced?"
"I don't know. All I know is this man's crazy!"
"It's crazy to sleep with five hundred girls? Wouldn't you like to sleep with five hundred girls?"
The guard was angry. He didn't say another word.
But he did lead Nancy on to the cell that held Henry O., the prisoner. He wasn't very talkative, but Nancy did decide that he was amazingly well hung.
At the trial, that fact came out when a doctor gave his medical testimony. "No doubt about it," the doctor said, "that fellow is abnormally sexually potent." Nancy enjoyed the doctor's testimony. He used the word penis, then explained to the jury that the penis was the male sex organ. Nancy stifled a laugh.
"The penis is small at birth and grows only slightly until just before puberty," the doctor declared. "After puberty, it increases considerably in size. Without an erection, it is normally between three and four-and-one-half inches in size."
"Let's not bring small cocks into this discussion," Nancy said to herself.
The doctor continued, "In many instances, unusually large penises have been observed in males of small size."
The doctor was interrupted by the prosecutor. "How would you describe the size of the penis of the defendant?" He gave a sickening smile.
Nancy leaned forward. She wondered if the male members of the jury were beginning to stroke their own cocks.
"Doctor-" The foxy prosecutor paused dramatically. "First, give us the approximate size of the normal man's organ then, perhaps, you can compare it with what the defendant-has."
There goes that nasty word normal again, Nancy thought. For Christ's sake, what was normal and what wasn't?
The doctor took his time, dragging things out. At last, he said, "There is no doubt in my mind that this man's male member-his, ahem, penis is of a most unusual size. Not only that, but his capacity for multiple ejaculations is equally unusual."
"How did you arrive at your conclusions?"
"I have observed this man during his stay in prison. I've seen him, in a period of thirty minutes, induce four seminal emissions by means of vigorous masturbation."
"What does that mean in everyday terms?"
Oh, shit, Nancy thought! You dumb bastards! He jacked himself off! And he shot his load four times! That's a sign he's a pretty damned good man. The whole trouble, she decided, was that these lesser-endowed men were jealous. She figured that the poor prisoner would get a heavy prison term.
He got five years. And for what? Nancy wondered. Because he'd liked a piece of ass, liked to blow women. liked to have them blow him. For that, several lawyers had called him insane!
Nancy wished to see him, talk to him again, before they took him off to the state penitentiary. She had even a more difficult time getting in to see the condemned man. But she finally got permission because she said she wanted to write a magazine article about him.
She told the officials, "I don't want to force myself upon the poor man. If he doesn't want to see me-"
"Oh, but he does!" she was told.
She shrugged. "You're sure he wants to see me?"
"Not the slightest doubt. I'll take you now to see the poor fellow."
Poor fellow, indeed! Nancy felt he was pretty lucky to have laid five hundred girls. She'd decided she really would write a magazine article about it. It ought to go over big in one of the popular women's magazines.
"Has anyone come to see the prisoner?" Nancy inquired, as she was led down the long, dreary corridor, to the cells.
"Nobody," the jailer said.
"Not even his family? You mean, none of those five hundred women? Not even one of them?"
"That's right. This way, Miss." Nancy was ushered through an iron door that locked behind them She was in a section now that smelled strongly of disinfectant and lye soap.
She signed her name to some kind of paper, then was led into Henry O's. cell. "You're not afraid?" the jailer asked.
Nancy shrugged.
"Well, the risk is yours. You're on your own."
Henry O. was sitting, bent over a barren table. He didn't look much like a man who had seduced five hundred women, and yet he had, and was being punished for it. He was uglier than his photos, Nancy thought, and yet more handsome, too. He looked like a man who knew all sorts of things. Hell, he did! He'd fucked five hundred women, hadn't he?
Alone with this man, Nancy studied his scared-looking face. He was scared about something.
She spoke to him and told him why she'd come to see him.
He didn't answer, except to ask if she had a cigarette. She gave him her pack, but he took only one and handed the pack back to her. He lit the cigarette, then looked at her. It was a look she couldn't describe, not a cold, hostile look. It was simply a look that didn't ask any questions.
Nancy's first impulse was to tell him to cut the horseshit, that they were kindred souls, sexniks, that she liked her sex as well as he did. "You're cock; I'm cunt," she wanted to tell him.
Henry O. dragged cigarette smoke deep into his lungs. It distressed Nancy. She'd read somewhere that too much smoking was bad for the penis. And she didn't want to see a champion ruining his health.
Henry O. spoke at last. "I don't think it's possible for me to remain alive for five years in prison." He was fast becoming irritable. "They call me a sex maniac. They do not understand sex, my need for it. And they won't believe that not one of those five hundred women ever tried to stop me. They liked it as well as I did! Only when one woman's husband caught us did anybody report me!"
Hurray for Henry! Nancy thought.
Nancy's look much encouraged Henry. The ratty little fellow looked directly at her and began to talk. As he talked, she pictured him as some kind of a sex philosopher.
"Too many people are prigs," he said. "They all like sex, but, at the same time, they're scared of it. They hate me for fucking five hundred women just because it proves I'm a better man than they are!"
Nancy was now sitting opposite him at the bare table. The table was so narrow that their knees touched. Henry O. didn't move his knee out of the way.
"You think you want to write about me?" he asked.
"Yes," Nancy said.
"And will there be any money in it for me? I'm going to need money if I want to get out of this. Without a fuck, I'll die."
"What are your chances?" Nancy asked.
The man gave her a cold look. "Not very good, I suppose. I'm guilty under the law. But the fact is, laws are out-of-date. People know more facts now than they did when the laws were made."
It was Nancy's turn to need a cigarette. She shook one from her pack. Then she gave a little rusty laugh and admitted Henry O. had given her something to think about. He didn't look so ugly now.
"Yes," he went on, "I did all those things they charged me with. I fucked and sucked all of those ladies, and most of them sucked me. And I would do it again if I had the chance. How do you like the word fuck? Do I shock you?"
"Hell, no!" Nancy said. "It's a good old American word! I hate these foreign terms for the same thing. They sound so affected." She stopped for breath, before she asked, "Wasn't it a big job, taking care of all those women, I mean? Didn't you get tired sometimes?"
Henry O. said simply, "I have a great hunger for the female sex organs."
"Since we're on words, why don't you say pussy?" Nancy asked. "It sounds friendlier."
Henry gave a creaking laugh. "I like you, Miss," he said. "I think I would very much like to fuck you."
"Thank you," Nancy said, taking his words as a compliment.
He bowed his head into his lap, and Nancy wouldn't have been surprised if he'd raised her dress and stuck his tongue in her cunt. In a way, she even wished he would. After all, how many girls ever had a chance at a man who had already serviced five hundred women?
She liked his honesty, too. How many men ever came right out and said they'd like to fuck you? Maybe that was his key to sexual success. No flattery. No gallantry. No woman would have reason to tell herself later that she'd been seduced. Lots of women were like that. They had to find an excuse.
Henry O. suddenly became despondent. "I'll never get out of prison. At least, I won't get out until I'm an old man," he wailed.
"You won't be an old man in only five more years."
"Without sex, I will. Sex keeps a man young a woman, too."
He got up and walked around the table. It was then that Nancy saw the wonderful, enormous bulge in his pants. It was so big she gaped at it. He stopped and looked down at her.
"There's one thing I want to do," she said to him as he stood beside her. "I want to touch it."
He nodded, and she touched it. It was wonderful and unlike anything she'd ever before touched. She started taking it out of his pants. She was cramming the huge thing into her mouth just as the jailer opened the door. There she was, sucking that eleven inch cock, while the guard stared at the floor. In a short time, she brought Henry O. to a climax, while the jailer watched, stunned. He was still too stunned to move when Henry O. went down on her. When it was all over, the prisoner buttoned up his pants.
The guard had lost respect for her. "This way," he snapped, pointing to the door.
Nancy turned to tell the prisoner goodbye. It occurred to her then that she was just one more of the girls Henry O. had given his beautiful cock to.
"Goodbye," she said.
Henry said goodbye, but he didn't smile.
As Nancy was being led out by the disgusted guard, she wished Henry O. had been sentenced in some state like Louisiana, at least. In Louisiana and in Mexico, she'd read, prisoners were allowed sexual visits from their women once a week.
She asked the guard, "Will they keep him in prison for the full five years?"
The guard growled, "I hope they make it a hundred! The truth is, a man like him ain't fit to be alive!"
Of course, Nancy disagreed, but she didn't argue with the guard.
That night, she had a dream about Henry O. In the dream, she sucked him, and he came five hundred times. Then he just shriveled up like a balloon when all the air goes out of it.
At last, the wind blew him away.