Chapter 8

"You Look So Sweet I Could Eat You Up!"

History tells us that the Phoenician and Egyptian girls and women of the ancient world were the inventors of lipstick, the original significance of which would surprise many modem women.

For it was the fellatrices of Phoenicia and Egypt who were the first to employ red lip paint or rouge to make their mouths appear like the vulva and thereby indicate their profession. Consequently, any female who painted or rouged her lips so that they resembled the lower labia was at once recognized as one who specialized in oral stimulation of the penis.

It is said that Cleopatra of Egypt set the nonprofessional fashion for fellatio, and was, perhaps, the most famous free-love fellatrice of the ancient world. Cleopatra wore lip paint like all fashionable and promiscuous ladies, and is said to have sucked a thousand men. She was supposed to have fellated a hundred Roman soldiers in one night.

The ancient Egyptians, like the Muslims, were notorious for their sexual abuse of strangers, and especially Jews.

A homecoming traveler was usually asked if he had experienced an attack of 'sore throat' while in Egypt. This was the same as asking if he had become the victim of an Egyptian sexual custom and had been orally ravished by a big Egyptian penis.

A common Muslim curse is: "You son of a dog! You lick your wife between her legs where her beard grows!"

Lip and tongue stimulation of the genitals is common and customary among all classes and races of Asia and Africa, according to famous anthropologist, Margaret Mead. It is traditional both heterosexually and homosexually.

Mutual fellatio and cunnilingus is deemed even more intimate and enrapturing than genital union, perhaps because oral excitation yields the most acute and intense pleasure. The early Arabs and Jews learned oral eroticism in the most natural manner, by observing nature. Dogs, cats, hyenas, and other domesticated and wild animals can be seen licking each other's genitals.

Doctor Jacobus states that Oriental females become fellatrices by early addiction to oral activities. Traumatic childhood experiences are influential, for fellatory rape perpetuated by older boys upon small girls is very common among the Arabs. Such a rape may have a lasting effect upon the young girl's libido, yielding intensification of oral eroticism.

For little sister to take her older brother's penis into her mouth is but one phase in a vast and continuing variety of pre-puberty sex play fashioned and fostered by environmental factors.

According to Jacobus, four out of five North African Muslim women recalled having been coaxed or forced into fellatio by their older brothers. Most of the girls were between the ages of three and five at the time of their first oral experience. The oldest was six.

In Arabia, boys will perform repeated cunnilingus on little Arab girls, then induce them to "eat their banana" (perform fellatio). This was a necessity, in that the little Arab girls often could not take the boys' over-large penises in regular intercourse.

It is said that cunnilingus, fellatio, and so-called homosexual pleasures are endemic at Mecca and Medina, where all men are bisexuals and three out of five women are active lesbians.

It would be difficult to speculate at length about the cause of this; why the Easterner is so often bisexual in his inclinations and activities, while the Westerner has so often tended to become exclusively heterosexual or exclusively homosexual. The either/or values of the Christian West undoubtedly have much to do with such results. It is surely no accident that just now, when an ethical relativism is particularly noticeable in the United States, we are producing bisexuals to an extent far beyond anything hitherto experienced in this country.

But life is a constant change.

Half the evils of the world can be traced to the fact that people fight or are afraid of change.

A desire for change led handsome, young Dan D., after a year at one of our leading universities, to hitchhike to the West Coast, a twenty-day hardship-filled trek but one which he feels helped to mature him considerably.

"Ever since I was a young boy, I have been shy with women," he explained shakily to a psychologist. Blue-eyed, blonde-haired, robust in appearance, Dan looked like any other healthy young college student, and he had been well-liked on campus. "Other guys always seemed so sure of themselves, and I bet they didn't break out in a sweat when a girl wanted to go to bed with them," he fumed, throwing up his hands.

From years of experience, the West Coast psychologist observed that Dan was typical of the many sex-shy men he had treated. He knew, too, that in making the long trek West, Dan was really running away from himself. His condition, it was learned, stemmed from thwarting childhood experiences. Now, as a young man, he was tortured by his strong sexual drive which conflicted with his inordinate fear of women. Secretive and shy about this condition, he never discussed it with anybody, fearing that it would throw suspicion on his virility and manhood and mark him as one who was not a 'regular guy'.

So he had gone on from year to year, marked by self-doubts, inner reproaches, self-hate, and intense frustrations.

During the time he was being treated by the psychologist, Dan met a tall, shapely, red-haired girl named Helen. She had an engaging manner and rarely failed to interest men. She felt strongly attracted to Dan when they were first introduced by a mutual friend. Quick to note his shyness, and being attracted by it, too, she went out of her way to seek him out. Dan dated her for two months, but they never became intimate.

Each date, though, was a challenge to him, as he sought to overcome his fear.

"Why don't you come up to my apartment?" Helen suggested one night.

Dan went, and once inside, Helen became ardent, snuggling her well-molded body next to him. The heavy petting roused Dan and made him increasingly anxious.

Helen suggested he spend the night with her.

Dan became frantic. He panicked and ran out of her apartment like a scared rabbit.

He ran to his psychologist.

"In the past, you've had similar experiences with women," the doctor commented.

"If people knew how many-well, they'd think I was some kind of freak," Dan sighed.

During that session, Dan gave the psychologist more information on his childhood. He'd been dominated by two older sisters and a man-hating mother. Dan's father had deserted the family when Dan was only an infant.

"Sex is dirty! Promise you'll never dishonor a girl or hurt her in any way," his mother would often demand, tears in her eyes. And Dan would nod submissively when his mother said, "Men are animals who use sex to hurt and degrade women!"

So, to Dan, sex became something 'evil'.

According to his mother, women were all angels to be respected and revered. Unconsciously, he came to reason that men were inferior to women.

And, of course, the guilty and ashamed man is led to suspect, if not to believe, that others have noticed his fear. That is when the individual becomes prey to suspicion, avoids social gatherings, blushes, observes himself in the mirror, and develops self-consciousness. Guilt, shame, and fear have finally joined hands to convince him of his inferiority.

Dan was reluctant to have sex with a woman, though his desires were normal. His shyness was based on ignorance, as well as unfortunate experiences in his adolescent years. Friends make jokes about his bashfulness. "A guy like you ain't got what it takes to please a woman! Your cock ain't big enough!" the boys would mock sadistically.

The truth was that Dan's penis was undersized, but not abnormally so.

Humiliation, failure, and defeat drove him to visit a local prostitute one night.

"Okay, kid," she'd said laconically, as she began to strip, "Let's get down to business and get this whole thing over with!"

Dan looked at her curiously. She certainly didn't seem to have an enticing or encouraging attitude.

Beads of sweat began to form on his brow as his sense of fear mounted. Terror coursed through his body. He tried to get out of the room, but she had locked the door.

"I knew you'd panic," she said. "But I've handled kids like you before."

She turned out to be a better psychologist than the professional one Dan had gone to. She did not ridicule him. She bragged on his masculine virility, and when she saw he was ashamed of his small penis, she told him a story. Taking a small feather from a hat that lay on the dresser, she stuck it up his nostril. He winced.

"Feel it?" she asked. "It tickles?"

Dan agreed that it did.

Now, she removed the feather and inserted her finger. "Feel the same as the feather."

"No," Dan said.

"Well, that just goes to show you it ain't the size of the cock that counts. It's the way you wiggle it!"

That little experiment did Dan a world of good.

He was a victim of a misleading superstition. She helped him get over his ungrounded fears.

When his organ wouldn't harden by hand manipulation, she went down on him. And, before the night was over, she'd taught him how to suck her.

Everett I. was a well-dressed, forty-year-old car salesman who had long been troubled by his lack of confidence in sexual relations. Recently divorced, he recalled that he had had, prior to his marriage, many satisfactory affairs with women. Shortly after he was married, his wife began to complain about his sex hungers and habits. She tried to deny him, and finally the situation became so difficult that Everett became impotent. When, later, he tried to have sexual intercourse with other women, he encountered the same humiliating failure, until finally he became extremely shy of women.

He did not realize that he had fallen into the trap his former wife had set for him. A man-hater, with a strong resentment against all males, she had married him only for convenience. Determined to lower his self-esteem, damage his male ego, and lower the value of his masculine appeal, she witheringly criticized him in bed. In time, her sneers had their intended effect. Everett's sex capacity disintegrated.

Psychiatrists, psychologists, marriage counselors all know only too well that a perfectly normal, reasonably assured man can become impotent and eventually sex-shy if repeatedly exposed to carping and reproaches from an inconsiderate partner.

In a survey by Doctor G. V. Hamilton, a noted social scientist, one hundred married men were asked, "Do you have difficulty in getting an erection for intercourse with your wife?"

Only fifty-nine of them gave an unqualified No.

Practically any man's sexual energy can be seriously undermined if the wife has narrow and prudish ideas about what is proper in bed. If she sets herself up as the moral arbiter, takes the position that it is her duty to set limiting standards of moral acceptance upon her husband's actions, then trouble ensues.

Men become highly sensitive, sex-shy.

This kind of background made Everett find his real kicks with a whore. "When I'm with a whore," he said, "I get along fine. A 'nice' girl makes me feel low and disgusted with myself."

Feeling as he did about 'nice' girls, Everett sought out prostitutes, and, as most of them were 'suckie-fuckie' girls, he learned to enjoy a good mouth job.

Ben W., like most sex-shy men, suffered from a condition known as "post-coital triste". This condition causes extreme depression and sadness, marked by anxiety, and makes a man experience revulsion and disgust for the woman he's just had, along with an intense desire to separate himself from her. The mood may last from several hours to several months. In the unconscious mind of the individual, there is a terrible feeling that he has committed a horrible sin, that the sex act has made him 'dirty'.

Before the act began, he may have desperately craved sex, often to the point of uncontrollable obsession. Once he has had it, he undergoes an almost instant change in his feelings. He has no further feeling for the girl.

So, for a time, at least, he avoids women.

Psychologists know that one emotion is often a disguise for another, a deeper one that the individual does not want to admit even to himself. Part of the man's guilt may he in having sex with a girl he does not love.

When Ben described his problem in detail, his inability to attract a desirable female, or so he thought, this all made sense to his psychiatrist. In view of Ben's early background, it was determined that he really suffered from hostility impotence, that his shyness was really a hatred for women, started by his mother, turned inside out.

As a victim of hostility impotence, Ben found that during the sex act, he was unable to experience ejaculation. "No woman wants me the way I am I'd only disappoint them. So what's the use?" he asked.

"The truth is that your inability to have adequate sexual relations with a woman is merely an expression of your hostility toward them," the doctor said.

"My what? Hostility, did you say? Why, that's impossible!" Ben answered.

But it wasn't. And in time, Ben learned to accept the truth about himself. He'd been a pretty baby and had enjoyed not only the indulgences of his mother and sisters, but of teachers and other doting women, as well. Spoiled at a very early age, Ben took it as a matter of course that others should submit to his wishes, indulge his whims. Later, developing into a handsome youth, Ben was not accustomed to frustrations. The inflated image he had of himself made him believe that women would seek him out and be sexually free with him.

Few women could put up with his abrupt, impetuous demands and almost always refused to see him again. With considerable bitterness and disappointment, Ben refused to accept the idea that women would not fall at his feet. He developed in time, unaware of it even himself, a smoldering resentment of women.

Doctor Albert Ellis says of this type of man: "He becomes obsessed with the idea of females as sex partners, instead of human personalities. He becomes so sexually excited and trigger-finger tuned by continued non-concluded sexual arousal that he acquires varying degrees of sexual impotence. He frequently harbors tremendous feelings of anxiety, guilt, and sexual inadequacy. Often, these men retreat into homosexuality, and if not, the average kind of sexual relations is hardly-likely to satisfy their unrealistic desires."

This problem of sex shyness is widespread and can have serious consequences for a man afflicted with it. In most cases, shyness of this type is due to ignorance, a lack of facts about the sexual function. Much of this can be traced back to childhood and the inadequate understanding of the sex impulse.

Society imposes vague, unrealistic, contradictory sex standards on young people. Titillated on the one hand by provocative films, books, pictures, and inhibited on the other hand by a limiting books, pictures, and inhibited on the other hand by a limiting American males are shy, confused, uncertain, and frequently suffering from an emotional problem.

Doctor Elhs says that we consistently find that the majority of males in our culture have some kind of sexual difficulty at various times during their early adulthood and maturity, especially premature ejaculation and the ability to attain a full erection. In marriage, impotence seems to be quite frequent in some degree or at some time or period.

Shyness is a state of mind. The male who is shy is prone to have a vivid imagination in which he is also prone to exaggerate some type of shortcoming. With this imagination working full time, the sex-shy male is apt to develop an unrealistic view of females, or reverence for them to the point of convincing himself that he is unworthy of them.

There is risk in any undertaking. That includes getting along with members of the opposite sex. No man can go through life without experiencing some type of hurt, or rejection, from a woman. Still, females have no more intrinsic worth than do males. Now and again, both men and women will have cause to feel bruised at the hands of the opposite sex. But a male has worth to a woman, even to the point where she may desire him sexually even more than he values her in that regard.

One practical hint is to be natural at all times, forget the stereotyped versions of masculinity. If a man is out of practice due to long-standing shyness, he should get back into the swing of things. He should date girls who are not too attractive, all kinds of girls. He will learn to be pleasantly surprised at the large number of girls who will say yes when asked for a date. Soon, shyness will fade.

Don't feel put down and give up just because you meet a setback now and then. A girl wants to feel sufficiently at ease with a man before she goes to bed with him. Give her time. Don't rush things.

Remember, there is no sex-shy man who cannot learn to be confident and self-assured.

Bob C. had been sex-shy all through high school. Came time for the Senior Prom, and he had no date. He'd always been too shy to date the high school girls.

Cleora D. was a girl with a reputation, the kind the boys had sex with down at the lakeshore, then made jokes about. She asked

Bob to take her to the Prom, and he said he would.

In those few days before the Prom, Bob had all kinds of fears and doubts. Would the other boys laugh at him for taking Cleora? But he also had other thoughts, sexual thoughts. He knew all about Cleora's escapades with other boys and men, and he hoped she'd put out for him.

He went to get her the night of the Prom in his father's old Dodge. Cleora was pretty good-looking. She had a nice face and dark hair. And she was filled out plenty. He got a look at her ample tits and felt all tense inside.

Things went off pretty well during the banquet part of the evening. After that, some of the other guys got to sort of ribbing Bob about his date. He and Cleora decided not to stay for the Prom

They drove out into the country and Bob pulled up under some trees and parked. When he cut the engine, he looked at Cleora, and she grinned back at him When she slid close to him, he tried not to jump like a kid.

He put his arm around her, and she started kissing him And, man, could she kiss! She snuggled up warm and cozy and offered him her lips.

She took his hand and pressed it on her tits. His cock was getting hard.

"Come on, man, get to me," she laughed. Bob sucked in his breath at the crazy feel of her. He began rolling the tips of her tits around in his hands, and she seemed to like that.

She smiled up at him, and he kissed her, feeling her tongue dart into his throat. He ran his hand down her belly and felt her twitch.

She kissed him harder, as an invitation. Bob moved his hand slowly up her thigh and into her crotch. He worked his fingers slowly, inquisitively.

Cleora let out her breath. "Ohhhhhh-" Her own hand guided his to her mound that felt soft and rounded. She pushed herself closer to him, and he teased her cleft. She parted her thighs.

Bob's heart beat fast as he slipped his finger into her wet slit.

She squirmed, but he continued fingering her.

"God," she whispered, "you're gonna drive me mad!"

"I want to."

"Want to what?"

"Want to fuck you!"

"Yeah?"

He continued finger-fucking her and he could tell she liked it. She was panting a little now, and it made him feel bold. She was hot as a fireman's ass, and so was he. Her cunt was pretty squishy. But, hell, it was big!

She was looking up at him. Her lashes were jet black and gritty with mascara. She began to buck and gasp, and Bob didn't know what was happening, until she cried, "Oh, Bob, I'm coming!" Her eyes glazed, and her whole body jerked crazily. Bob held her tight and masturbated her excitedly.

It was wild, jazzing a dame that way while she heaved and bucked. His cock was rock-hard.

Slowly, she subsided, panting and sighing, and snuggling close to him. She kissed him hotly, and her legs went wide.

"Now, put it to me," she said, grabbing his dick. She closed her hand around it and sucked in her breath. "Jeez, it's nice!"

She masturbated him for a time, kissing and sighing. Then Bob slipped down in front of her. She took his cock and guided it in, and he heard her gasp as he slipped into her pussy.

"No, Bob, I can't," she said, after a moment.

"Why not, for crissake?"

"I don't want to get pregnant."

He growled at her. "For God's sake, don't you know what to do?"

"Bob, don't get sore-"

"Well, stop teasing. What do you do with the other guys?"

"This," she said, burying her head in his hot crotch.

Bob jerked back when her lips encircled his cock and began sucking. But it felt so good! She went for it like it was jam and jelly. He fondled her as she squeezed it with her lips. He was going to come, but he'd better not tell her. She might stop. It welled up in him, and he began to shudder. It spurted into her throat, and he heard her gasp. He'd given her a mouthful! He grabbed her head and held it tight, humping up between her lips. She was making sloppy noises now, and he could smell his own come.

"Get it all, baby," he breathed.

It took her a long time to lick him clean. But the longer, the better. She kept his cock in her mouth until it became soft.

He sat up on the seat after his prick was all wrinkled and soft. He put it inside his pants and started to zip up.

She asked him for a cigarette.

He lit two cigarettes and gave her one. She puffed on it, then asked, "What's the matter, Bob?"

Bob was beginning to feel guilty. "Well, nothing," he said. "I I just never had my cock sucked before."

"No kiddin'? " Cleora was astonished. "Most of the guys like it that way." She smiled then, and glanced up at him from under her long, dusky lashes. "Was I okay?"

"You were great," Bob said.

They stopped at a hamburger stand on the way home and had hamburgers and cokes.

"You can drop me at the comer," she said. "I can walk on home."

Bob was glad enough to do it. He was beginning to want to get away from her. He slowed the old Dodge and came to a stop a block from her house.

Before she got out, she said, "Next time, bring some rubbers. You can fuck me the regular way then." She reached down, grabbed his dong, and squeezed it.

"All right," he said.

"Tomorrow, huh?"

"Yeah, see you, baby." He watched her walk to the corner. She was shapely as all get-out, and hot as an oven. His cock tingled where she'd squeezed it. He'd get some rubbers and get it in her the next time.

Now, his inhibitions and guilt feelings were all gone. He anticipated his next meeting with Cleora.

He slipped down to the bus depot the next afternoon and got a package of rubbers from a machine.

Bob picked Cleora up that evening, already hot in anticipation. The moment she got into the car, he slipped his hand up her thigh under her skirt.

"I got the hots for you, baby," he said.

She giggled and asked if he'd brought any rubbers. He said yes, and touched her on her mound. She crossed her legs when he slid his finger down toward her clit.

She ran her hand over his fly and grinned. She felt his bump, and the bump stirred, a long, sausage-shaped thing. It began sticking up.

He whispered, "Let's get out of here."

She teased, "Why?"

"Because I want to fuck you, that's why!"

She unzipped his pants, took his cock out. She squeezed it hard, making him squirm. His face felt hot, hot as his throbbing cock. He started up the car, and she let go of him.

There was a sliver of a moon, but it cast no light. Bob wanted to kiss Cleora, but he held off until they were out in the country and under the clump of trees again. Then he took her into his arms and kissed until his hard-on poked at her.

Reaching down, she grabbed it and squeezed hard. He kissed her harder. Then he raised his lips a moment and said, "I want to lay you down somewhere."

She giggled. "The ground is too hard. Let's get in the back of the car."

They did, and he pushed himself at her, prodding his cock into' her. Her arms went around his neck, and Bob began dreaming about getting his first real fuck.

She opened her legs when his hand explored her thighs and closed on her pussy. He pushed her panties aside, and his hot finger licked up her slit. She gasped.

"Hey, you're hot, baby!"

"So are you!"

He felt her hand unzipping his pants, and there it was. He squirmed upward and let her pull down his pants and shorts. He touched her with his naked cock, and his fingers guided it to her cunt opening. He hunched down to get then-organs to meet.

He was breathing hard as he eased his cock into her, and she clamped her teeth down on his lip. Bob pushed it easy, hissing his breath, pushing.

When it was all inside her, it felt hot. He very slowly began to move in and out, in and out. She had it all, every fucking inch of it, but she felt loose.

He fucked her steadily, slowly, without feeling much. Hell, this was nothing at all like he'd thought his first piece of ass would be like. Cleora was very disappointing. He'd figured she'd be tight. But this was for the birds. He began to feel his cock wilting inside her.

She was convulsing, grappling frantically, writhing and bucking, and it scared Bob. He was losing rhythm, jabbing her with a weakening cock. She kept writhing over his deflated organ, wanting him to stick it deep. She kissed him sensuously, rolling her loins and trying to squeeze his tool inside her. But it slipped out.

Still, Cleora tried to provoke him with her writhing.

"Cool it," he said. "My motor went dead."

"Oh, shit!" Cleora said, wiping his cock on a handkerchief. She wiped herself and said she was still hot and anxious. She took his cock, felt it, played with it, but it wouldn't get hard again.

"Man, I'm throbbing!" She snuggled close, still working his cock with her fingers. Then she giggled and put her mouth over it. She cupped his balls, and Bob felt them squirm and harden. His cock began to grow in her mouth.

Now, his cock was hard again. Should he put it in her cunt right away? He rubbed her ass, and she seemed to enjoy his hands on her. He took his hard cock in his hand, and it felt hot and dry. He stuck it in her, and immediately it began to wither. Quickly, he pulled it out, and she began to mouth it, moving her head, squeezing with her lips, laving with her tongue.

She looked up at him once with a gleam in her eyes. He ran his fingers through her hair, and she sucked him hard and fast.

His cock seemed to swell inside her throat. And he knew he was starting. She knew it, too, and began to rub his shaft with her fingers, holding her lips at the head.

It spurted.

Bob's hands closed about her head to keep her lips on him. He wanted her to get it all. He was bending over her, trembling and hissing, and his cock throbbed. She sucked it, every bit, gobbling it down and squeezing it with her lips.

Bob groaned, and his body wracked with a spasmodic twitching, but his cock stayed hard, and she kept mauling it with her lips.

"Don't stop don't stop!" he breathed.

She sucked it until it got soft. It took a long time, and he loved every second of it. She wanted him to finger her, and he did.

He worked his finger against her swollen clit and made her come. He held her as she writhed and jerked in the grip of it.

Then he zipped up his pants and examined himself for any telltale signs of come on his pants.

On the way home, Bob was reminded that he still hadn't had a real piece of ass.

However, his fooling with Cleora had given him some confidence, and sometime later, when he was out on the lake, he met up with some of the guys who had brought out a small trailer. They'd called Bob over and offered him a drink.

One of them said, "We've got a girl inside. Wanna stick it to her?"

"Who is she?" Bob asked.

"Some broad Kenny picked up. It'll cost you a buck."

Bob grinned, accepting the drink. They were all leaning against the back of the trailer. The door opened and a blonde girl stuck her head out. Bob saw she was naked, and her tits were big.

"Who's next?" she asked.

"Me!" one of the guys said. He entered the trailer. The door closed, and the trailer began to jibble.

"She ain't bad," Kenny said. "Got a goddamned slippery cunt. An' she'll let you stick it in her ass!"

Bob shrugged. The noises coming from the trailer were heating him up. The gal squealed a little. The guy inside was making her laugh.

"Who's next?" Bob asked.

"You can have her next."

The guy opened the door and stepped out, grinning. "You get your rocks off?" someone asked.

"Yeah, man!"

The boys were pushing Bob up to the door. He went in and the girl looked up at him. She was completely naked, sitting on a cot. Even in the semi-dark, Bob saw that she was at least thirty, and not even pretty. He slammed the door behind him and took out his wallet. He handed her a buck, and she reached for his cock.

Then she spread her legs and leaned back. "Okay, buster, climb on," she invited.

Bob was hard by now, so he got down in front of her and let her guide his prick in. It went in like a spoon into mush, right to her hair at the first push. She wasn't even as tight as Cleora had been. Bob just lay on her, disappointed.

"You like it?" she asked.

"Hell, yes! It's like sticking your prick in a bucket of axle grease!"

She ruffled his hair. "You know, a girl gets her crack stretched when she's fucked by a dozen guys. But you've got a nice rod." She moved her ass a little. "I can take care of you, I think."

Bob felt his pecker wilting. Then something happened, and it got like steel again. The girl was squeezing him with her pussy, making it tight. It felt like it had when Cleora clamped her lips around it. Oh, Jesus, it felt good!

She made him come, and when he got his gun off, it felt like everything was draining from him. He didn't know how long he spurted into her. He finally stopped, and she pulled him from her and wiped his cock on a towel.

Bob zipped up, but he kept smelling the girl's smell, an odor of sex and gardenia perfume, and it clung to his nostrils. He thought his cock would never completely wilt.

The woman giggled and ran her hands over it. She grabbed the curving cock and squeezed. "You want more, huh?" she asked.

"Not right now," he told her. "Some other time."

"Sure," she said, petting his organ and smiling. "You got a damned good rod, man!"

That filled Bob with enormous pride.

After that experience in the trailer, Bob never had any more trouble getting ready for a woman. He liked his sex in a number of ways. He liked to sink his hard cock deep into a juicy pussy, and he liked to be sucked.

On several occasions, he was filled with so much love for his partner, that he felt a compulsion to suck her cunt. It seemed that his passion had gathered in his mouth and throat. In his childhood, he had been told often, "You're so sweet I could eat you up!"

And that's the way he felt about his sex mates.