Chapter 10
THE CASE HISTORY OF EVELYN S.
" 'Do it there again, Evelyn,' she asked me suddenly as I gently probed her urethral opening with the nail of my little finger, "I can come again...with you. . . ."
"It wasn't like they write about in books, but it was the most wonderful thing that had ever happened to me. The climax was almost mutual, but it wasn't enough, not thoroughly satisfying. I wanted more. We masturbated each other until well past daybreak."
Evelyn S. is a twenty-four-year-old unmarried nurse who works in the pediatrics section of a medium-sized private hospital in California. She is very pretty, almost 5' 8" tall, weighs approximately 135 pounds, and measures roughly 36-27-38. She has been Lesbian oriented for as long as she can recall. In speaking briefly of her background with one of my female research assistants, a woman she has known for some time, Evelyn said:
"I rather suspect that my mother is a Lesbian, too.
She never talked about sex with me at all. I do recall that my 'Aunt Wilma' made love with Mother in their bedroom quite a lot. I also noticed that whenever they kissed, it was not the usual friendly or relative type smack. They French kissed. I do believe that excited me more to watch them do openly, than the times I sneaked around and saw them in bed together, naked and playing with each other.
"Odd, that after all the talk I'd heard from Mother and 'Aunt Wilma' about the male sex being so rotten, that Mother kept after me so much to date boys. What happened when I did date? They picked the poor kid to pieces for days, saying I should find a 'nice' boy. How could I? I never heard them say anything nice about any male."
On her first realization of sex-pleasure, Evelyn stated:
"I masturbated a lot when I was six or seven. I also liked to inspect my pussy very closely with a mirror and with a magnifying glass. But I don't think I ever had an orgasm then. It was a-very good feeling. I liked it. I liked to play with myself a lot. But I don't think I ever climaxed.
"Mother never told me anything about sex, and I could sense that she felt there was something bad or wrong about sex. I must have been sixteen before I realized what sex was all about and that a man and woman were supposed to be married before they did things like that, and it was freakish when two boys or two girls or grownups of the same sex, did those things together.
"I might have been as young as eleven or twelve when
I played with Ginger's pussy. She was older than me, fifteen or sixteen maybe, and I think she was staying with me when my parents went off for a weekend at the beach. We were going to sleep together and when we were undressing, I was very curious about all the hair she had. She wasn't fuzzy like me. She had a big black bush. I played with her hairs some...I think. I can't remember for sure. If I think about it now, I want to think that a lot more happened. But I've got to be honest. I don't know for sure.
"In high school, I knew this girl who was a real dyke, but she dated boys to put on a front. She had her own car, and we had been making out with these two boys on a date in her car one night, but never let them go all the way. When we let them off, she drove me toward my house, but turned off first into an alley and parked. She said she was so hot from being fingered by her date so much that she had to get some relief.
"This girl, Beverly, was real sweet, and I was really surprised. At the same time, I was kind of curious, excited, scared...scared but excited, you know. I liked to look down at her legs. They had a good shape and she was shameless about pulling her skirt up over her hips and fingering herself. Before that, I had liked to look at girls' bodies in the shower room at P.E. class, and I did think about being in the shower room with them all naked when I masturbated alone. It was more like I was admiring girls' bodies. At least, that's the way I thought about it. I didn't make a real connection with sex action.
"Maybe you can understand now what I mean. I liked Beverly a great deal. It had been a tender, loving friendship. I was excited as I watched her go to work on herself with her fingers, but it was also disillusioning. I was shocked when it got farther than that. Beverly sighed real lowly and said, 'Oh...what a relief. Now, let's get you relaxed.'
"I was speechless! I couldn't believe it. I was wearing a short skirt, and carelessly, since we'd let off the boys. Before I knew it, her hand was right up into my pussy and searching for my clitoris. She grabbed me with her other arm and began to French kiss, slopping her tongue in my mouth and sucking mine out. She was like a crazy girl! She started telling me how long she'd wanted to suck my pussy and begged me to let her do it right then.
"Gee, I was so confused and mixed up. Beverly was a different girl, but I still liked her so very much. I let her go ahead and take me home with her-her folks were at the farm-and she was so hot for me, a real aggressive dyke. She jumped me in her bedroom before I could hit the sheets, and I was then eaten for the very first time in my life. Beverly was gobbling me up! It was shocking, but only for a few seconds...until I had the feel of her lapping mouth and tongue on my clit. I came, but I was afraid to let her know I had. She kept spitting on her other hand and playing with herself. I liked to look at her naked...I think.
"There was still a lot to be afraid of, I thought, so I kept a good distance from Beverly after that. She was so aggressive and rough. I wanted a tender, cuddly kind of love. There could be sex. I wanted there to be sex, but not just jumping in the bed and going to it like that.
"I was in my early twenties before I got the kind of tender love I wanted so bad. If I get really hooked on a girl, I have to face her and talk to her while we make love. I want to kiss her lips and whisper of love, and feel my fingers slide about in her wet vagina and vulva while she explores me in the same way and rubs my clitoris very tenderly. I can go on like this for hours in bed with a girl I definitely have a feeling for. Even if the affair lasts only a month or so, a week. One first night of meeting and lovemaking are possible!
"My feelings toward boys...now men, are only neutral. I've liked the personalities of some men. I respect and trust some men without any emotional feeling whatsoever. Doctors are notorious nurse chasers. When I've liked one of them before, I can push him away and laugh off his advances. If I hardly know him or don't care for him, his advances make me furious! I have reported two of the interns at the hospital where I now work. One of them was fired when I told the hospital administrator to hide behind a screen in the nurses' room and see for himself. In situations like that, men disgust me! If I see a man and a woman kissing, and the woman is attractive to me, I can become so emotionally upset that I have to take off from work a day.. . . "
Evelyn's first "real" Lesbian affair occurred when she was about twenty-three years old. She preferred not to talk about it, but agreed to write about it, so long as anonymity was assured. A condensation of her written experiences follows:
I've always loved children. They're so much fun and full of life...so innocent of what real life...and love, are all about. I was assigned to the pediatrics ward as soon as I was capped because of my interest and request. Most of my patients were no more than two or three years old. It followed that most of their mothers were quite young, and still attractive and...well, sexy.
Jill's mother came to see her twice each day. At first I was too busy to be aware of this lovely little woman (she was blonde, a Utile over five feet tall, flashing eyes, built like a sexpot). She always smiled at me, flirted with me, and I just passed it off because we were understaffed and I was working too hard to realize there was anything personal. She thought I gave such wonderful care to Jill, but I was a very hard working and conscientious nurse and had received expressions of gratitude quite often.
Jill's mother was named Betti, and she was separated from her husband before the child was born. She had a very good job as a computer programmer. She seemed very happy and content to be on her own. Betti had a sharp convertible and a two-bedroom apartment in the very best part of town. She also was getting a hundred and fifty dollars a month for Jill.
Betti soon found time to latched onto me in the hall and start up a conversation after visiting hours. She was so very interesting that I took a quick liking to her. One Friday evening she asked if I'd like to have a drink with her. I told her I didn't get off until eleven, and she told me I should drop over to her place for a drink then. She even offered to come pick me up when I got off, and I was agreeable...very agreeable, but I think maybe I didn't believe it was all true or had all the things in it that I fantasized.
We had talked before about the fairly sheltered kind of life she had to live since she was not really divorced, and how lonely she was now that Jill was in the hospital and most of her female friends were so busy being married or dating.
I was pretty excited about being with her alone in her apartment because I already had a crush on her from the first night she started talking to me in the halls. I forced myself not to expect too much. I got into a mood with a wonderful mental picture of drinking together by candlelight and talking, and my adoring her lovely face as we talked. Oh, I had gone as far as to think about trying to find an excuse to hold her hand, squeeze it. I was, in a way, bolder than I had ever been before. I think the difference was that I had detected "A Certain Smile," an intimacy and warmth in her voice when she invited me over. And then I knew that might be only loneliness and boredom that made her invite me. I was a lonely, loner type of person myself. Sometimes we attract each other.
Betti's personality was absolutely wonderful! We talked about so many things and found we had a lot in common. We liked historical novels, classical movies, designing and making our own clothes, social work. We also began to talk a lot about the personalities of girls and women we had known, and what we thought of various female celebrities. When we both settled on the fact that when Brigitte Bardot was in her much younger years, we just adored her, the way we talked sent shivers through me. I had always thought of Brigitte Bardot as being the sexiest young woman I had ever seen. I saw each one of her old movies on TV, and I bought movie magazines sometimes so I could clip out near nude pictures of her.
We kept talking about her, describing her body. Betti said a friend of hers had showed her some all-nude pictures of her taken at her private Riviera estate at St Tropez. The liquor was getting to me also. I felt just so relaxed and wonderful there with Betti that I didn't realize when the conversation moved from crushes like we had on our schoolteachers or somebody like Brigitte
Bardot, to more directly sexual things, such as how Brigitte's lips looked like they could kiss so well, and that her naked titties were small but looked like a pair that loved to be played with. When we talked about teachers we had had crushes on, they were always females, and the conversation went from silly, little-girl infatuations, to plain sex with our teachers...how we wished it could have happened, and heard stories about it happening to others...but never to us.
We were having our second drink in the little breakfast room of Betti's apartment on a clear glass and wrought-iron table. I could look down through the tabletop at her pretty legs in her miniskirt, and she could look at mine if she liked. I just felt so wonderful and dreamy. That's the only way I can explain it. '
It was pure, natural impulse that led me to reach over and place my hand on hers and squeeze gently. We were both trembling, perspiring a little. We looked right at each other and smiled. My insides suddenly became very light all over and I felt weightless, the way I could imagine I'd feel when I've seen the astronauts drifting around in their cockpits on TV, or bouncing along on the moon.
No one will ever understand the emotions that went charging through me that night until I was almost in a trance-like state, catatonic. I'd never been hit that hard by anything or anybody. I had found out of nowhere a happiness I was afraid did not really exist.. . not for me. I had always felt that I was doomed to live alone with my secret desires, unable ever to find another affectionately. I knew by then that I was a Lesbian, but Betti was my impossible dream.
And then my heart almost sunk.
We seemed to have talked ourselves out, and she went into the bedroom and I followed. She said I might as well spend the night, and took a spare, freshly laundered pair of beautiful pajamas out of a drawer and handed them to me. The fit was perfect. But I was suddenly very unsure of myself again, wondering even if I should dare undress in front of her. I prayed that Betti was not another dyke like Beverly, for I knew that would kill it for me. I think I was actually relieved when she went into the bathroom to change.
We talked about a few other things as we finished getting ready for bed. Betti did most of the talking, telling me about what a sorry idiot her husband had been, but how lucky she was that he at least made good money and was providing adequate support for JUL including a college policy for her future education.
I had a very strange sensation, like a new surge of hope when Betti turned out the lights and we lay face to face there in the darkness. "I want to make a confession, Evelyn," she said. "I like you very much. I'm so very, very glad that I found you."
My heart skipped a beat, but for almost a minute there was nothing to be heard but our breathing. I could still hear the breathy and intimate tone of her voice when she had said . . . 'Tm so very, very glad that I found you." My left thigh was touching her right thigh. I seemed out of breath, but I swallowed and said, "I've been lonely too, Betti. I've never met anybody I liked...who understood me."
I was so tense that I jerked a little when she put her right arm up around my shoulder. Then, I immediately dropped all my fear barriers, and I slipped my arm around her tiny waist. We drew ourselves closer to each other, our lips fumbling to find each others' in the darkness. "Oh, Betti...Betti!" I squealed.
Our mouths came together in a touch of beauty. Our lips were moist and clinging (I had been licking mine, and I think Betti had, too). I did not want a dry kiss that would remind me of a relative, and I was not disappointed. Our mouths were joined in a beautiful mating of love, an explosive expression of the deep glow that fused through our bodies. This was very sexual, but more so for Betti. At least, she was the first to be more demonstrative. As for me, I knew that I was becoming very moist between my thighs, and I joyed in pressing them together and agitating my sensitive clit and nymphae while concentrating on our embrace and kissing.
I tried to put my tongue as far as I could in her mouth, reach and feel every crevice, the backs of her teeth, and I did actually suck her tongue into mine, conscious that she was letting me have some of her saliva too, which thrilled me a little extra. When I felt Betti's hand go down my side and immediately underneath the elastic waistband of my pajamas, I was no longer in fear of a sexual contact. I wanted it. . . just from her...right then. I raised my left leg and welcomed her fingers in my wet vulva.
With my loss of inhibitions, I responded in kind, sighing very deeply when my fingers entered her pussy. I remember it all so very clearly-the glorious warmness of her inner thighs, the crisp feel of her pubic hair laden with secretion, the slick and slippery insides of fleshy lips.
I kept probing her gently with my fingers and I was strangely relaxed about it all. I identified each sex part, organ or gland as my fingers contacted them. Her outer lips were thick, her nymphae almost indefinable, the introitus greatly pronounced. I fingered her urethra opening with the tip of my little finger that brought great sighs of intense feeling for her, and ended with her first orgasm. "Oh, Evelyn...you know my weak points. I love it," she whispered to me after jerking gently, then sighing with her climax. Later, I found her clit and enjoyed squeezing it gently to make her climax again.
I wish I had been so ready. Perhaps I was still nervous without admitting it, overexcited maybe. Betti could not make me climax. I tried to do it myself, but she insisted, plunging both her middle and index finger deeply inside my pussy, then pulling them back out so the heel of her hand and the backs of her fingers pressed hard as they rubbed across my clit. "Do it there again, Evelyn," she asked me suddenly as I gently probed her urethral opening with the nail of my little finger, "I can come again...with you. . . . "
It wasn't like they write about in books, but it was the most wonderful thing that had ever happened to me. The climax was almost mutual, but it wasn't enough, not thoroughly satisfying. I wanted more. We masturbated each other until daybreak.
Evelyn expressed a preference to write about some of the Lesbian experiences that followed her basic "seduction." Here is a part of what she wrote:
That first night was the beginning of a very strong love affair that lasted for over two years. I'm still in love with Betti, and I guess I always will be, but I will never see her again. I could not bear to see little Jill growing up as I did, to enter adulthood with so many strikes against her in regard to living a normal, happy and proud life. I just adore children too much, and I know that affectionate love can turn to sexual love. I could almost see the beginning of Betti's interest in Jill's "sexy little body." What would have happened if I had stayed until Jill was an adult.. . or just a developing teenager? Betti was the kind of woman who would not let conscience get in her way for something she really wanted. I've heard so many people rationalize about incest, how "natural" it is-"it just happens."
Naturally, I was afraid of my own desires, too. Jill was such a darling. She would be very physically attractive in a few more years. If Betti was going to corrupt her, I did not want to know about it. I certainly did not want to become part of one of those weird Lesbian-incest-threesomes I'd heard about. I had to go, but those two years with Betti I will treasure always.
It was Betti who deflowered me with, of all things, a broom handle with a rubber prophylactic on it. We called that our "wedding night" and I bled a lot. Later, we became more sophisticated in the arts of lovemaking and began to use vibrators a lot, right on our clits. The night that she deflowered me, she masturbated my clit at the same time she was "fucking" my vagina with the broom handle. That's a funny thing that so many men do not understand about most real Lesbians. We get no thrill from a dildo or any object like that in our vaginas unless we have had a lot of previous experience with men. We are clitorally oriented, and that's why we masturbate each other a lot, go down on each other, and use vibrators. I think a dildo would feel more sexy up my anus than in my vagina.
Betti was very urethral oriented too, as you obviously observed from the first night I made love to her. There were many times when I concentrated on her urethral opening. It's just below the clit, and I worked on it enough until I could eventually get almost all of the top part of my little finger in there. I had to use an ointment, but Betti was so fond of my doing that, she often liked to plan on doing it a week ahead, just so that she could look forward to it. It was psychological with Betti that she always had to have certain special pleasures to look forward to, and would deny herself these pleasures just for that reason...for a certain period of time. I also used a sterile glass probe rounded on each end to go all the way up into her urethra.
There was a very real risk that if she jerked or moved involuntarily, or that if my fingers supped, the glass rod would break inside her urethra. That would excite Betti so much, the danger element. She was thrilled by my being a nurse and knowing so much about the female anatomy. I would slide the glass rod in and out, like I was "fucking" her urethra, and she would have "crying" orgasms. It was really amazing how masochistic Betti turned out to be. If I pushed the rod all the way in, I could punch her bladder with the tip, and that used to always make her come after I hit once or twice, and not too gently.
Betti and I loved each other so much, knew each others' little special desires so well, that we often masturbated each other in the bathroom or kitchen, if we were in the mood. One morning when we were in a rush to get out at an early hour, we were competing with each other for the use of the bathroom mirror to put on our makeup. We became so frustrated and angry we had words, and I pushed her away. Betti lost her balance and nearly fell over backwards into the bathtub. I quickly grabbed her. I was crying and pleading with her to forgive me.
There was a whole change of mood, Betti holding onto me tightly, kissing my lips, saying, "We haven't had enough sex lately, my darling." We needed something to make us realize that. At that very moment, our hands went beneath waistbands of each others' panties and we masturbated for about five furious and wonderful minutes. . . .
Things are so different with me today. I'm more independent and don't believe in long affairs or living together. All I'm interested in are transient sessions that can be conducted discreetly. If I am very much on edge, nervous, and there has been a lull in my sex life (which is rare), I go to a prostitute, and then I wish I hadn't, because there is no real feeling. I think my attitude is much like that of most men. I want my partner to share my feelings in a very intimate and personal way, even though we may meet by accident in a cocktail lounge and only have sex one time with each other. Anyway, it's what we both want, and we indulge in more kissing, love-play, mutual masturbation. There is not so much crudeness and wanting to go down the very first thing when the door is closed behind us.
Masturbation? Yes, I suppose it does seem to be my predominant method for climax, and breast-love is only titillating, not even teasing for me. The answer on the first count is that most Lesbians are in search of a more tender and sincere spiritual manner of love to go along with the sexual relationship, even if it is only a casual affair, a spontaneous single meeting For me, the use of the fingers and hands convey so much more and are so flexible that they can be used in whatever type of sex a partner may want.
Some women I've met are as much sensitive on their inner lips as they are on their clits. Or, they like to prolong sex, and their clits are too sensitive, too responsive. If a woman is anal-sensitive and still a Lesbian, the most intimate act that she can enjoy is having her rectum probed by her partner's fingers. She wants nothing to do with a dildo or other penis-symbol. The act of love is most gratifying (and I have been treated this way by some of my lovers and enjoyed it as a variation) when you stand together naked and reach around for the other's anus, or do the same lying down very close together so that the anal-masturbation is mutual. But it is performed much more pleasurably when the woman who wants it the most can he face down on the bed and have her girlfriend lick up the backs of her legs, parting the cheeks of the buttocks very gently first with the tongue. After that, the lover parts the cheeks with her hands and licks the anus and probes it with her tongue (that in itself will make some girls climax) before exploring with her fingers.
One time last year I met a woman at a sidewalk cafe and we flirted until we knew what each other wanted and knew that we were attracted to each other. When she asked if I liked to "flat-fuck" when we were at my apartment, I didn't know what she meant until she explained it to me; then I realized it was only the way she expressed it "Flat-fucking" is when one woman ties atop another and they try to get into position so that they can rub their clits together. It had always been very frustrating for me before, because of the way I'm built. I had never been able to get a climax that way before. It was different that time. Our crotches worked together beautifully and she had a clit that was almost an inch long when it got hard.
By this time in my young life, I can tell you that I have just about tried everything and anything in the way of Lesbian love. I enjoy women with big tits and I like to suck nipples. I'm freakish for it sometimes. I work with two nurses who have tremendously large breasts, and I feel like plunging my hand down their uniform at times. But this is not an overpowering urge.
I'm hypnotized by very large breasts on very young women or teenage girls who have firm big breasts and are attractive otherwise in the body and face. I also have to have that spiritual feeling of need for each other.
I can't deny that, spiritual love or not, I greatly desire to physically feel the female sex organs. I am disappointed when a woman has a large, gaping vulva, if she smells unclean, if there is anything imperfect about the sex organs. A girl must be neat, clean, fresh. I expect her to be just as interested in neatness and cleanliness as I am. When my fingers reach inside a woman's pussy, the first thing I do is to feel for the locations of the organs and glands. And then I want to masturbate her.
Comment: I feel that Evelyn's statements are among the most realistic and closer to the actual ideas and attitudes of the "average" Lesbian, than the more extreme cases that come to the attention of the psychotherapist. However, I consider it a very important contribution to this study because it illustrates so graphically the various types of masturbation employed by so many
Lesbians in their interpersonal sexual activities.
In the opinions of many active Lesbians with whom I have talked, mutual masturbation in one form or another plays much greater a part in their lovemaking than it does among male homosexuals. Often, it may be as far as the traditionally more reserved female wants to go. And it accomplishes its purpose in bringing relief from sexual tensions within the context of an erotic relationship.
A reluctance to experiment further may be attributed to inexperience. For example, two females "discover" themselves sexually. They become aroused through kissing, breast fondling. They know that digital manipulation will bring on pleasurable orgasms, and they are too reserved to explore any other possibilities. Mutual masturbation satisfies their desires quite adequately.
I think it is reasonable to assume that some form of interpersonal masturbation is so popular among Lesbians because solitary masturbation has become such a habit, the ability to achieve orgasm is associated with digital contact. And the reason for this is quite obvious. Unless a Lesbian is an overt or gay type with a wide repertoire of lovers, or unless she has a regular partner, her interpersonal relationships are rare. A Lesbian has far greater difficulty in contacting other Lesbians than homosexual males have in contacting others of their proclivities.
When the Lesbian finally does find a partner, either as a one-timer or occasional lover, mutual masturbation is almost always bound to play a part in gaining orgasm. I would venture to say, as a result of my interviews, analyses and talks involving almost two hundred
Lesbians and bisexual females over the last ten years, that cunnilingus, tribadism ("flat-fucking"), and the more bizarre forms of contact are highly overrated. We see them occurring with some frequency only among the very outspoken and very sexually active gay types and in swinging (where it is often done more for the men's viewing pleasure), and in exhibitions of a commercial nature (pornographic films and pictures) made to appeal to men.
However, I do not mean to say that these other forms of Lesbian expression do not play some part in perhaps one time or another. While the less-inhibited male homosexual ordinarily desires both fellatio and anal-intercourse during the term of a relationship, much adjustment is required to achieve parallel relations among females. The Lesbian has no penis. The true Lesbian has no desire for a penis or its symbol. Yet she may want oral-genital relations and anal-masturbation. Thus, more interpersonal masturbatory acts among Lesbians may be accounted for by anatomy.
Although the avowed Lesbian who has not been with a male except as part of a very unpleasant experience, "would have no desire for vaginal penetration by a dildo, these phallic substitutes are often used in the seduction of "straight" females who are more vaginally oriented and feel the need for penetration and fullness during the sex act.
Evelyn's background and her own comments are most revealing as to the causes of her homosexuality, and she provides a reasonable rationalization as to her preference for interpersonal masturbation. She is certainly to be credited for her breaking up with Betti. I think her own case-history would indicate strongly that being raised by a single homosexual parent contributed to a formation of the same kind of erotic orientation in the child, although there is no direct encouragement or incestuous act.
Evelyn may well be able to control her desires and live a relatively productive and meaningful professional life. There are many "Evelyns" in this world of ours today. Their life is not easy.