Chapter 14
Spend some time at any bookstore, and you will find that almost every important person's sex life has been explored and carefully considered. One learns everything from the numerous orgasms experienced by Hedy Lamar to the size of the penises of certain movie star studs. Helen Gurley Brown has given us the intimate secrets of the single girl, and Doctor Albert Ellis has explained sex and the single man. On the off-beat side, there are numerous books about homosexuals and lesbians. Only the poor married man and his problems have been left out. Is it fair?
"Once a man is married, his sex life is taken care of," the experts seem to say. It's as if all perfectly natural sex urges have been patted on the head and told to be good little boys. The reason why husbands sometimes stray has not been thoroughly considered.
Oh, once in awhile, one will come upon a mildly controversial article, usually in a woman's magazine, about the "problem" of the restless husband. These articles usually end up with the conclusion that men are just made that way. And, so as not to discourage nervous women, they always insist that the husband eventually comes home, like Little Bo Peep's sheep, wagging his tail behind him.
The advice is to give the adventurous husband a little rope, but not too much. These writers, usually women, take a highly tolerant attitude.
Or, so it seems on the surface. But if you scratch deeply enough, you will find them often insulting.
The adulterous wife is never mentioned in the same tone as that used about straying husbands. Wives don't "run around," the way husbands do. They aren't "lured away" by conniving blonde secretaries.
No, indeed! The unhappy and unfaithful wife is always driven into some handsome male's arms because her husband has neglected her, has inept sex techniques, or an expanding waistline. Wives have "meaningful" affairs that somehow make them better wives and mothers in the end. Husbands are expected to understand this and to forgive and forget.
But the husband who is having an affair becomes the object of scorn. If the girl is younger than he, then he is dubbed "a silly old fool."
It would be wonderful if all married couples lived happily ever after. It would be great if they loved, honored, and obeyed their marriage vows. However, the truth is that many husbands and wives do stray. By modern standards, the wife gets by with it somewhat better than her spouse does.
What the adultery-minded husband needs is more respect. Sex will rear its pretty head no matter what happens, so why should the husband be made to look like the villain, or a fool? In a society in which everybody else's sex drives are analyzed and understood, why should the married man be snubbed?
There are a lot of statistics concerning the wayward husband, but not much sympathy. There are many reasons why he climbs into the sack with another woman. It often does not mean that he is tired of his wife. He merely seeks adventure. Nobody seems to understand that sex is not like a smog. You can't control it with the best of modern technology. Since extramarital sex is inevitable, why shouldn't life be made easier for the married man?
In cases where swapping is mutual, the problem has been solved to the satisfaction and greater happiness of both parties. If husband and wife don't think swapping improper, immoral or antisocial, if they don't see anything wrong with sex with another partner, if they can enjoy it without regrets, and keep it private, then the public isn't outraged, and all is well.
Somebody should compile statistics on how many trips to Reno, or how many men have avoided poverty through heavy alimony. If the figures could be rounded up, they would be enormous.
Often, the married man who decides to have his fun feels lost. He knows he wants to go somewhere, but he's not sure of the direction. If the wife goes along, the trip is better. Life would be made happier for all concerned if the wife would cooperate. Very few men who play around wish to ditch their wives permanently. What happens is that they have to sneak around and often bungle the job. And the wife, outraged by his actions seeks a divorce.
What would the average wife say or do if her husband confessed openly, "Honey, I love you, and all that. But I crave a piece of somebody else's nookie."
Could she realize his need for a change, for adventure? Or would she consider his desire a reflection on herself?
Perhaps it is a matter of the physical make-up of man and woman. They, of course, are different, and the average wife is more satisfied to give herself solely to one man than a man is to accept the favors of only one woman.
Once in a while, however, there is a woman who needs a change of cocks, just as a man often craves a change of pussy.
Take the case of this woman. "I have a problem," she says, "and it's my husband. He's a wonderful person. The only thing wrong with him is that he can't get really excited about me unless I put on sheer lingerie and high heels, and he can tie me up with a rope."
"Aside from that, he is a faithful husband and a good provider. I am twenty-four, and he is twenty-seven, and we've been married nearly three years. We have no children."
"We both work. My husband feels guilty that he should enjoy something so much that I find repulsive and frightening. He has pleaded with me to be more understanding, but he is always after me to do this. It's the only thing we ever fight about. Do you think he could be dangerous? He isn't mean or cruel about anything else, and he never suggested anything like this before we were married."
One psychiatrist told this woman: "If your husband insists that you submit to his far-out fetish which you find frightening and repulsive, that's cruel enough to call it quits."
However, the solution probably lies in a more exciting sex life. It might not be foolish to try a swap deal some time.
If wives and husbands would cooperate, they might revise and revitalize the whole process of fooling around. They could do it together in swap parties, among intimate friends, and gone forever would be the job of hiding tell-tale signs of lipstick on one's collar, or hiding motel keys.
Somebody ought to write a new code for husband and wife relationships, and for extra-marital fucking.
One wife confesses: "No woman ever found herself in a stranger marriage. It was my husband who taught me to cheat."
Her husband had dangled her in front of his friends, encouraging her to tease them. Then he gloated, thinking he was the only one who could have her.
But he was wrong. She tells of going to a party, of slipping off with a strange man for a couple of hours in a motel room.
After it was all over, and the stranger was gone, she got up quietly and tiptoed to the bathroom and dressed. She hailed a cab, wondering why she bothered to go back to the party. She supposed her husband, Charles, hadn't even noticed her leaving with the strange man.
Oh, how she'd wanted him to care, to love her! But she knew that to Charles, she was just another neat package, like his fancy sports car, something to dangle in front of his friends and say, "Look what I've got!"
Instead of going back to the party, she told the driver to take her to her home address. She didn't want to embarrass Charles with her streaked make-up. He wanted her to be the prettiest, the sexiest. She sobbed out her grief as only the unloved can.
At the home she shared with Charles, a cold morgue really, she wondered why she couldn't make her young husband love her. She hadn't received much love as a child, either. There were six children, and her parents were poor farmers. Boys were more highly valued than girls were.
She was painfully shy as a teen-ager. Finally, in high school, a neighbor girl took her under her wing and taught her to use make-up and dress attractively in the cheap dresses she had, the only ones she could afford. Her friend, Janet, helped her put a rinse in her blonde hair.
One evening, Janet said, "You remember my brother, Chuck, don't you? Well, he has a good job and a brand new car, and he's coming home for Christmas. We'll try out the new you on him, Peggy!"
Peggy gasped, horrified at the idea. "Why, he's at least five years older than me!"
"Quit being so bashful!" Janet said, and scowled. "He'll flip over you! I know he will!"
The Saturday Charles was to come home, Janet and Peggy spent the whole day getting Peggy ready. Janet loaned her some of her clothes. While Janet worked on Peggy, she talked. And the more she talked, the faster Peggy lost her nerve. It sounded as if Charles only wanted the best of everything, and she felt that sure didn't include her.
Chuck Winston turned out to be an average-looking man with light brown hair. Peggy gasped at his jazzy red sports car. "Wow, what a buggy!" she said.
Charles Winston immediately took that for a chance to invite her for a ride. Later, he took her to a movie, all the time studying her with his soft, warm eyes. After the movie, they drove into the country, and Charles parked in a secluded place.
"You're an angel," he said, running his fingers through her hair.
It was a miracle! He liked her! Maybe he even loved her a little bit! So, when he kissed her passionately, she returned his kiss.
And things got started from there. It wasn't long until he'd worked her panties off, and his hot hands burned deliciously into her skin.
"You like to fuck?" he asked.
Peggy answered shyly, "I never have - I'm a virgin - "
Chuck bellowed with laughter as his hand slipped down to massage her cunt. "We'll have to take care of that!" he said.
Peggy put her hands on his thigh, and then felt his cock through his pants. It was big and hard, and it made her mouth fall open. "You mean, men have things as big as that?" she asked.
He bellowed again.
Then he licked his lips nervously, and his hands went to his pants. He unzipped them hurriedly and slid them down, uncovering his cock. It was a big, fat tube of hard flesh.
Peggy was embarrassed, but by now, she was also eager. Her world became his cock as she reached for it. She clasped its firm thickness and squeezed. "God, it's big!" she explained.
"Compared to whose?" he asked. "You said you were a virgin!"
It filled her hand, and it was still thickening and lengthening, forcing her fist open more and more. "Silly! I've got brothers!" she said.
She began pumping it slowly. The glans was pink-violet, all silky and clean. He was circumcized.
Chuck said proudly, "Eight inches. Damned few men have eight inches!"
He bent over her and did something that caused the seat to hum and move backwards. The back went down to produce a sort of bed. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her, curious, greedy, testing. His tongue sprang into her mouth, and he groped between her legs, wanting all her goodies.
She moaned when he played with her titties. He was having a hell of an erotic effect on her! He'd peeled off her bra, and after a few fondling squeezes on her boobs, his hands again went to her thighs.
His kiss softened after a few aggressive moments, and became more sensual, more interested in pleasure. He opened her thighs with his hands, and, as he kissed her, a finger parted her pussy lips, then slid in. She was wet and hot, and he probed the oily depths of her vagina until she squealed in pain.
Chuck whispered, "Oh, God, I've got to fuck you!"
"It will hurt," she said, drawing back. "You can't get that big thing in me!"
"Hell, I can try!"
He mounted her, but he first let his finger find her hard, nut-like clitoris. She squirmed and inhaled sharply. "Like that, huh?" he asked.
"Oh, Chuck, it hurts - and yet it feels so good - " A pleasure was intensifying in her loins, spreading, building. He kept whispering in her ear, kissing her, encouraging her. His finger drove deeper until it found some obstruction. He waited a moment, and she relaxed. Suddenly, he jabbed and drove deep. She writhed, screamed, and squirmed.
She began bleeding a little.
"Oh, Jesus, Chuck, that hurt!" she said, fighting the tears from her eyes.
"From here on, things will be better," he assured her.
When he tried to sink his cock between her wet pussy lips, she grabbed it with both hands. "Let me help it in," she begged.
Her cunt lips covered the silky head, but it wouldn't go any farther. She bucked up at him as best she could, but it hurt like hell.
"Oh, take it out!" she cried.
He obeyed, then begged her to masturbate him. "Move the skin up and down with your hand. That's good - "
She loved the feel of his huge bulk in her hand, to feel its warmth, tension. She hoped he had a lot of semen inside, waiting. She wanted to watch him come.
She pumped his cock and, once in a while, played contentedly with his glans. In a short time, he called out shakily, "I - I'm going to come!"
She pumped him faster, and his enormous cock swelled even larger and got tension-stiff. And then he groaned loudly, and his thick semen gushed out. The white stuff ran down over her pumping hand.
She didn't stop until he commanded her to. Then she took a hanky from her purse and wiped her hands.
Chuck didn't put his cock away. It lost its size and drooled come onto his pants. He cleaned it off with his large handkerchief and grinned. "This goo ought to loosen you up," he said, wiping some of his come from his belly and massaging it into her pussy. "I'm going to try to put it into you again in a few minutes," he promised. He told her to lean over and kiss the head of his cock.
She did, then licked it for a moment. It started to surge with a new virility, and it wasn't long until it was stiff and hard again.
He got on her and opened her legs wide again. Peggy gripped the steering wheel, gasped, and threw her head from side to side as he tried to ram her again.
He sent one of his hands down to help guide his cock into her tight hole. His contact made her stiffen and moan. He whispered, "Reach around and hold on to my ass, baby!"
She did. She felt his long, thick cock probe deeper inside her. She felt tight and full, but it didn't hurt so bad. Chuck worked slowly and it wasn't long until he was probing deep into her vagina.
He kept working slowly. Pretty soon, he said, "You've got it! Hurray for you, baby!"
"It hurts," Peggy said.
Now, as he worked, it was as if a blunt instrument was tearing at a raw mound. She was terrified, fearing she was being ripped and damaged internally. She gritted and sobbed, begging him to take it out.
"You'll get used to it soon, darling."
He pulled upward, then thrust deep, burying his cock all the way. Fiery waves of agony went through Peggy's body as she felt his glans invading some secret, untouched place. She spasmed and screamed. It was pain! And a weird kind of pleasure. She thought she couldn't stand it. She tried to throw him off.
She couldn't. "You'll learn to dig this soon," he said. "Next time, I'm going to make the whole trip! You're gonna get all eight inches!"
"Oh, no, Chuck!"
He was strong, and when he pushed down on her, she couldn't do anything about it. He was ruthless. His huge cock was in and seemed to be in up to her tonsils, and she couldn't breathe. It was awful, the alien sensation.
The length went deep again, plunged. He shuddered upon her, and she felt him begin to spurt. After moments of awful sensations, there was a weird pleasure. His cock-thrusts quickened, and his gasps became muffled. Peggy's pussy spasmed, tightening around his huge cock as it repeatedly invaded her. Then his cock slid out.
He reached down and sank his finger deeply into her sticky, hot swamp, found her clit and made it throb.
She went into orgasm as he slammed his finger into her in long, final thrusts.
After that, Peggy felt she couldn't go on living without Chuck.
"Do you love me so much?" he asked.
"Oh, yes, yes, Chuck!" she sobbed, clinging to him desperately.
"Baby, let's get married!"
"Married - ?"
"If your folks will give permission."
'They'll be delighted to get rid of me. I love you so much, Chuck." She melted against his body.
The day after they were married, Chuck said, "Let's go downtown and get you some new clothes. I want to show you off!"
Peggy knew later that that first remark should have warned her of the dangers ahead. He bought her four of the most immodest dresses he could find. A little later, he enrolled her in a modeling school.
"Oh, Charles," she protested, "those dresses are not my type! And I could never be a model!"
"I don't want you to be a model. But the course will give you poise." He kissed her warmly, and she felt silly for making such a fuss. She'd do anything to please him.
Shortly before she'd finished the modeling course, Chuck said one night, 'There's to be a party - just some friends at work. I want to show you off."
The night of the party, Peggy dressed in a flowery summer dress. Charles groaned, "Oh, honey, you're not going to wear that, are you?"
He selected a clinging white thing he'd recently bought.
"But it's so tight it doesn't feel good," Peggy protested.
He sighed and put his arms around her. "You have a lovely figure, Peg. You need to wear something to show it off."
She wore the low-necked, clinging, short-hemmed dress, and Chuck smiled approvingly. At the party, he introduced her to two men who practically undressed her with their looks. "Do we get to kiss the bride, old pal?" one of them asked.
"Sure, why not?" Chuck said.
Peggy was horrified that Chuck just stood there and let those two men slobber all over her. Their kisses were ugly, horrible.
She recovered enough to mutter something about needing a drink. She ran to the kitchen with tears in her eyes. Chuck followed.
He scolded her mildly and said those men were just teasing the new bride. He kissed her tears away. She powdered her nose, and they went together back to the living room.
Peggy felt miserable and stuck close to Charles. Finally, he told her, "You've got to talk to other people. You can't just follow me around like a puppy dog! It doesn't mean a thing that those guys mugged you so heartily. They just think you're beautiful. Now, honey, don't embarrass me. It's all in fun, so stop worrying."
She tried, but she was confused. She thought most men would be embarrassed if their wives flirted. Everything seemed to be exactly opposite from the way it should have been.
She was glad when the party was over. Charles gloated over her "popularity" on the way home. She wanted to scream.
Instead, she took a shower. She felt dirty - unclean - after all those rough, vulgar hands. Then she slid into bed beside Charles, wanting some loving. "My little angel's growing up," he bragged. "I'm proud of you. You're lovely - "
He didn't prob her with his big, wonderful cock that night.
There was another party the next weekend. Charles had insisted that she wear another "clinging" dress. He was in the habit now of just looking, without tasting, and Peggy was needing sex. Halfway through the party, she got pretty tipsy and decided to make him jealous, hoping to get some action.
She played up to a guy named Bill. While they danced, he said, "You're about the cutest thing I've seen in years. How the hell did you get hooked up with a dud like Chuck?"
Peggy glared at him and pulled away.
But no - "Let's go for a drink," she said, "I'm dry - "
They went to the kitchen. The kitchen was empty. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her fiercely, so fiercely it scared her. But it fascinated her, too, for here was a man who wanted her. She broke away from Bill to see Chuck standing in the door, grinning. She half-expected him to slap her. Instead, he slapped Bill on the back, and they both laughed.
Peggy wondered how a man could see his wife locked in a passionate embrace with another man and not get jealous and mad. Or something! She just couldn't believe Chuck's actions. Oh, God, did it mean he didn't love her? She loved him desperately.
But Charles was too passive. One evening, she snuggled up to him on the divan and said, "Honey, let's have a baby!"
"I've already got a baby - you."
"I'm serious, Charles."
"You're too young to have a baby. We've got lots of time later for that." Then he kissed her, and that was the end of that.
When he came home from work one night, and she watched him pat the fender of his flashy red car, Peggy thought vaguely that maybe he had more in common with that car than he did with her. He liked the car, all right, but what he really liked, she realized, was seeing people gush over her. He took her to the beach often and made her wear a bikini.
"Oh, God," she prayed, "why can't I make him just love me?"
At times, Peggy wished she were back in high school and living with her family. Not having any love from them didn't hurt half as much as not having Chuck's love.
When he said there was to be another party that night, she tried to back out. She didn't want to go to any party. She just wanted to stay home and go to bed with Charles and get fucked.
His hands went around her bare midriff as he pleaded. He kissed her gently, as always, and it was better than no kiss. She gave in and went to the party.
Charles seemed to enjoy the parties so much. But she knew now he got his sole pleasure from showing her off. She hated the penetrating eyes of some stranger on her body, but it always pleased Chuck.
She danced with a dozen men that night, and every one of them was pretty tipsy. Finally, a strange man cut in. He held her tightly as they danced, but he didn't paw and crush her, as the others did.
"You do an awful lot of laughing," he said, "for one who has such sad eyes."
"Sad?" she echoed.
"Yes. Offhand, I'd say you're about the most unhappy person here."
They danced in silence for a while, and Peggy wished the man would hold her closer. Finally, he said, "If you were mine, I wouldn't drag you to parties. I'd keep you in a cage and beat you if you ever looked at another man!
Peggy tried to smile, or laugh, or something. But she just stared into his serious, gray eyes.
"I'd keep you barefooted and pregnant!"
Pregnant? Oh, God, why couldn't Chuck say something like that?
She might not have gone to a motel room with the young stranger if she hadn't had too much drink. But she'd lost her senses, so she let him take her hand and lead her to his car.
"I want to possess you, own you," he said.
His lips had aroused a burning in her, too. She felt really loved - wanted, like it was she he wanted, as well as her body.
They went to a motel, got a room, and immediately, the young stranger locked the door. "Strip!" he ordered.
Peggy quickly unzipped her dress and slipped it over her head. He came over and hooked his thumbs in her panties, skinning them down. He unhooked her bra, and her breasts fell out like beautiful overripe pears.
He pushed her onto the bed. His fingers played in her pubic hair that was thick and extensive. She was breathing fast.
"You ought to be good reaming in the ass!" he said. He popped the snap on his trousers and shoved them down. His cock was hard, impossibly long and white and thin. It fell out of his shorts as his trousers went down. It jerked slightly with his pulse and was curved up a bit at the end.
Peggy stared in wonder and thought it would be impossible to take it in her ass. She screwed up her face and whined, "No, don't fuck me the back way! It will hurt too much!"
"Get your ass up!" he ordered. "The more places you can fuck, the more fun it is!"
He positioned her on some pillows and went to his knees. He pulled her up so that her round, firm buttocks were sticking up before his cock. He grabbed her with a forearm under her hips. His other hand positioned his swollen cock in the crack between her cheeks.
Peggy pleaded, "Use some grease, or something."
He got up and went to the bathroom. Somebody had left a tube of something. He came back and squirted some of the stuff on the head of his cock and into her ass. He positioned his long cock again. He hooked his arm under her and shoved.
His cock bent a little as it resisted. Then the head and a couple of inches sank into Peggy's ass. She howled.
He worked his hips smoothly and drove more and more of his cock into her. Peggy sobbed and gripped the pillow tightly with both hands.
"A little more," he said, "and you'll get to loving it this way."
He shoved until he had his whole cock buried in her ass. At first, the pain was awful. And then it wasn't so bad. As he grunted and slammed against her, it got to feeling pretty good. He groaned and fucked. And finally, he pulled it out and demanded a wet towel.
Peggy got up and limped to the bathroom, her ass stinging like fire. She took a towel and wet it in warm water, then wrung it out and brought it to him.
He wiped his cock off and told her to suck it. She wondered how he could hold his load the way he did. She sucked on him for a while.
And then he opened her thighs wide. His hand went to her wet pussy, but didn't linger. He got his cock in, instead. "I want to do it nice and slow," he said.
He fucked her slowly as he nibbled her lips. After about fifteen minutes, he shot his load, white and thick. She felt it drench her insides.
It had been a good fuck. But when it was over, she thought of Charles, and the thought made her tremble.
Two nights later, Charles fucked her after they'd gone to bed. When it was over, he said, "From now on, I'm going to keep you barefooted and pregnant!"
Peggy's whole body filled with love as he pressed his lips gently to hers. She didn't know what had come over him - and she didn't care, especially after his kisses became not so gentle!
After he'd fucked her to a climax, he confessed, "I had to learn about sex from another woman at one of our parties!"
"You did it with another woman?" Peggy asked, not feeling so badly about her own extra-marital adventure. "Yes."
They both made full confessions that night.
And when Chuck mentioned that they might both enjoy some swap parties, Peggy said, "I don't want to. I've got all the cock I want right here in bed with me!"
Chuck giggled and grinned. "And I've got me a real lovin' woman!"
By the look in his eyes, Peggy knew she was loved.
"I want to hold your prick," she said. "I like to hold it.It feels warm"
"Any time," he promised. "Hold it! You're the one woman who can always hold mine!"