Chapter 3
THE CASE-HISTORY OF NELL THOMPSON
"The first thing I think of in the morning when I wake up is a huge hunk of cock shoved in me. My eyes aren't even open before my hand is down between my thighs. I never sleep with clothes on. I can't stand anything binding or restricting me. My vagina is on fire constantly with a hot itch...and even when I'm sleeping I'm dreaming of wild and perverted sex. I dream of Negroes, young men, old men, dozens of men raping me and filling me with their glorious cocks. . . . "
Nell Thompson is a twice married nymphomaniac who recently sought help from a colleague of mine in a large Southern town. I was told by my business acquaintence that Nell almost continually masturbated herself during the long interview, by placing her heel at the inside of her crotch and agitating her vulva through the slacks she wore. We assume that she must have been wearing rubber panties, as no secretion seeped through.
In build, Nell is very attractive, a stunning blonde of twenty-seven with a classic 36-24-36 type figure. She weighs approximately 134 pounds and is five feet and five inches tall. Her good looks, strong sex appeal and personality have probably been more of a curse to her than a blessing.
From the tapes taken at the interviews with Nell Thompson, the reader will be able to see that the passionate fury experienced by the true nymphomaniac is no laughing matter. She is confronted constantly with a very real danger.
Here is how Nell told her story:
Sex may not be a problem for most people, but it's going to kill me. Most people think that to be desired so much is a blessing. Of course, I'm proud of my body, but sometimes I wish I'd been born an ugly cripple...or dead. When it comes to me and sex, I can never get enough. I want cock all the time.
The first thing.. . . [see open of chapter for remainder of this paragraph].
When I masturbate first thing every morning, I rub my clitoris so much that it gets sore and swollen. That makes it worse, more sensitive. I can douch with warm or ice cold water and have a dozen more orgasms then. I dig at my box so much that even my fingers get sore. My wrist will be aching from my frenzy of masturbation. But I won't be anywhere near a good climax. Sexual satisfaction is almost impossible for me. Oh, God, how I wish I could suck my own pussy! If I could do that. . . ha-ha...maybe I could lick my own problem. I'd be curled in a little ball like in my mother's womb...and I'd suck and lick myself there all day long.
Most of all, though, I want a nice, hard cock in me. There must be a man somewhere who can go for an hour or longer. I've heard of men like that. I've heard of men who could come and keep right on going...never go soft. I had a girlfriend who told me that their preacher had been fucking her since she was a kid, and he'd keep on going after he came and she could hardly feel it get soft at all.
Not for me. Most men can't do a thing for me. They climb on, get a good hard cock in me...then slam, bam, they're coming. By the time they're done, I'm just ready for serious lovemaking. I'm wanting it all the more because they've gotten me so damn hot! I get desperate and panic! I try to suck them up again real fast...and the bastards shoot off in my mouth, and I swallow it like a good little girl to make them happy. They like that. I have this one guy who pays, he won't give me the goddamn money until I open my mouth and let him watch me swallow it. You wouldn't believe the number of men I've gone to bed with in one night and still wanted more. Nobody would believe it. . . .
I'm so nervous and tense and edgy and hot all the time, I can't even hold down a regular job because of it When there are two or three men in an office I do everything I can to get them to fuck me, suck me, rape me-anything! They sit so goddamn righteously there with their pricks zipped in their pants, and the whole trouble is I'm coming on so strong I frighten them off.
My whole life is ruled by sex. I work as a part-time prostitute. Maybe I should say full-time. The only money I get to live on-and I've got a nice little apartment-is from men who want my body to use...long enough to satisfy them!
I like having my own nice apartment because it means privacy. I can fuck anybody I want to there. I only wish they were lined up at the door all the time. Damn! Why am I like this? I come from a good family and I was raised right. I'm cursed with this awful need that I can't ever satisfy. I'd be glad if I could have just one hour...one hour, to feel what it's like to not want sex.
With my hot ass, at least I can always make plenty of money and live nice...until I get a lot older. Maybe I'll lose this insatiable sex desire when I get older and men won't want to use me for sex any more. Now, men pay me good because I turn them on so much. I wear hot pants and miniskirts, and sometimes I'll wear stockings and garters with a mini because I know that excites hell out of most men. Some of them like to fuck me with my stockings and garter belt still on. One young guy with a lot of money, he likes me to dress up like a nun and fuck me with all that stuff still on. They like nurses and airline stewardesses too. So I keep uniforms and hot underwear for them.
They leave me turned on, dammit, and I never turn off. I'll do things with them that most normal girls would never do. I wish I could put my whole fist up my cunt. One time this guy who had real small hands, he got it inside and fucked me with his hand and arm. It hurt like hell when he shoved it up to past his wrist. But he got tired and worn out before I did. . . .
I hardly ever get any relief, even for a moment or so. As soon as I've masturbated a few times, eaten breakfast, taken a shower and used the rough wash cloth over my soapy clit for a while, I leave the door to my apartment open after I put on a robe. There's this big Negro guy about twenty who takes care of the small maintenance work in the building. He fucks me nearly every morning.
I'll never forget the first time I called him into my apartment. I pretended to have heard some mice the night before and I had Leroy hunting for holes to put some traps around. Oh, he's a huge black man, built like an animal and black as hard coal. I'd never had a Negro before, but I'd always wanted some black cock because I heard they were so good at fucking. When I was a kid at home, I peeked into my aunt's bedroom one time and saw our gardener eating her pussy while she sucked his big black cock. She was loving it so much, I thought that might be just what would do the trick for me.
I didn't know how to approach him. He was so much like a beautiful sexy animal! Oh! He had broad shoulders, muscles like footballs, a slim waist. But he would stare at me like he was in my power...like a slave. This is the South, baby, and he knew his place no matter what the Supreme Court said.
"Are you sure you heard mice, Miz Thompson?" Leroy asked me after he had looked all around the apartment. "We had no mice in this building for six years. The exterminator, he come every week to see we don't have none."
"How dare you call me a liar, black boy?" I snarled at him.
"Oh, no, Miz Thompson," he said very nervously, "I didn't mean nothin' like that. . . . "
I moved closer to him as he kept on apologizing. I tried guessing how long his cock would be. I wanted to see it! I felt like a kid being drawn toward a big chocolate Easter bunny. But then Easter bunnies don't have cocks, do they? I poured Leroy a glass of beer, shoved it in his hand, and plain ordered him to drink it. I let my robe slip open a little bit. I was very nervous, so it was easy to pretend I didn't notice that my pussy hairs were almost staring him in the face. He was sweating, but what made me get on fire was to see his pants start bulging.
"I.. . I shouldn't be here like this, Miz Thompson," he said uneasily, but his eyes bulged as much as his cock.
"Do you always do just what you're supposed to do?" I asked him.
"What.. . you mean, Miz Thompson?" he asked, and his black forehead was shining with sweat even though my apartment is well air-conditioned.
I couldn't hold back any longer. That kind of stupid talk could have gone on forever. "What do I mean?" I shrieked at him. "I mean, Leroy, that if a hot white girl with a good body wanted to give you this for nothing...would you be man enough to take it?"
I was standing bare-ass in front of a very astonished and embarrassed Negro. Leroy stared at my nakedness, gulped, and almost choked on his beer. I was right at his side. My hand went for his zipper. He was speechless. I reached down inside his pants for his cock. I found it! It was big and getting harder, and I hauled it right out. He wasn't up full yet, but it was six inches long already!
"Oh, Leroy," I moaned, kneeling to kiss the black cock hungrily, really shook up. "I want your cock, Leroy...please!"
"Oh, Lord, Miz Thompson," he stuttered. He was shaking all over, but his cock got harder as he looked down at the way I held it, my soft, white hands and the long, black rod. I had to get fucked!
"Get your goddam black ass in that bedroom!" I ordered him like I was his mistress and it was the year 1840. "Go on! Do you want me to scream 'rape!' right here...and really get your black ass hung?"
"Oh, no! Oh, Lord, no!" Leroy cried, his eyes pleading with me. But I still had to drag him almost to my unmade bed. When he stared down at me there in the bedroom, his hard cock was arched like a bow. I was laying on my back. I spread my thighs and started rubbing myself off a little. He stared at me like a damned idiot! I threatened to scream "rape!" again, and he shook his head like he was trying to come out of a trance or wake up from a dream. I know plenty of choice and sexy white girls love black rod, but I guess he never had that chance before...not like I was offering it to him. (I remember a girlfriend once told me she had to spit in this Negro's face in Birmingham so he would get so mad he raped her almost.)
Oh, God! What a fucking man that stud was! His jock shorts were an amazing white contrast to his black skin. His muscles were like those on a Greek God! His big cock was surrounded by thick, wiry, black hair. His cock was harder and almost'seven inches long, and don't tell me I can't make a good estimate on how long a cock is, after all I've had.
"Oh...no, Miz Thompson...please," he stuttered again, trying to back away from the bed. "If the res'dent manager know I be in here an' he try to get me for a 'mergency problem...he kill me!"
"Fuck me, goddammit! Put that black cock in here and fuck!" I screamed at him, almost crying. I dug my fingers at my cunt just once more to make it sore and more sensitive, then I grabbed him by his aim. I caught him off balance and he fell over right on top of me. I could feel that hard cock with its own pulsebeat jabbing between my legs. I sought his big lips with my tongue and we French kissed until I sucked his tongue into my mouth and toyed with it like I wanted to. I was on fire! I
I reached down for the cock and guided it right inside my soppy cunt. His inhibitions were almost gone and I tore at his shoulders with my long fingernails when I felt him begin to shove it in and out of my cunt. Oh, God, it was so good!
"Fuck me...oh, fuck me, Leroy!" I literally screamed at that black sex machine. My hips thrust to meet his. My entire vagina had swallowed all that cock of his on about the second stroke. I ground my cunt against the base of his cock and felt the crispness of his curly pubic hairs against my soft muff. Leroy put his hands under my ass and began to sock it to me with animal-rhythm. My cries and curses made him angry. I liked that. I wanted him to be brutal with me.
"Fuck me, you mother...fucker!" I screamed.
"Damn! Damn, woman!" he shouted at me like he was fucking one of his own (I loved it), and perspiration was dripping from all over his glistening black body. "Oh, woman...woman! That pussy won't let go my rod! You got a sucking pussy. I only had one black girl with a...a snapper like that. Oh, Miz Thompson! Go on! Grab my cock! Hold that rod in there t'see if I can pull it out. Oh, shit. . . . "
I can do anything I like with my vaginal muscles, control them as easily as an arm or leg. I clamped them around his cock. I wanted to hold him in there forever...like I had with a hundred or a thousand other men. My fingernails dug into his shoulders and I clawed his face. I pulled his ass so that I was sure I was getting all his cock. When I felt the head of it hit my womb, I screamed in momentary ecstasy. He kept hitting it each time and I kept screaming each time. Oh, God, what a wonderful way to go...while it lasts.
Leroy kept pumping it into me. Oh, that man was a good fucker! I could tell he was trying to hold back his orgasm until he could feel my passions riding toward a climax, too. He began to grind his big, beautiful black cock in circular motions, thrusting harder and longer. I could hear the wet smack of his balls. It made me all the more furious to have him make me come.
"Hold on! Oh...oh, God, don't come yet!" I screamed, gasping for air as I clawed his hard-muscled shoulders. "Fuck me...deeper! Damn you...hold it! Don't do it yet!"
I never saw a Negro work so hard or try so hard at anything in my life. But it was no good. Leroy collapsed on top of me in an exhausted heap and I could feel the gush of his come against my sensitive and almost raw insides. I stared down at him with nothing but contempt after he rolled off me and lay at my side. I didn't say anything. I reached down between my legs and started rubbing at my fiery cunt to let him know he was a failure as a stud. I began to scream. I tore at myself. I got all his come out and began crazily spreading it all over myself. I rubbed the sticky mass on my breasts, in my navel, all over my belly and upper thighs. Leroy lay there looking at me like I had gone mad.
"Hurry up, boy!" I demanded angrily. "Get it up again! Straddle my face here and I'll get it up while I keep my cunt on fire!"
Leroy was reluctant at first. I guess he thought I really was crazy. Slowly, he got on his knees straddling me, and worked his way up until his thighs were against the outsides of my tits. He liked that. He liked it more when I reached for his limp cock and guided it to my mouth, sucking and lapping. I felt a faint response as the blood began to force its way back into his black rod. I prayed it would get up quickly. I licked the tip, worked my tongue down the underside. I sucked the whole thing back into my mouth and worked on it like a milking machine on a cow's teat. That did it! He was almost completely hard. He was moving, fucking my mouth with his cock!
"Lay on your back!" I ordered him.
I pushed him down to the bed. Oh, God, he looked so beautiful there, his black body against the white sheets and a hot seven-inch cock standing almost straight up, except for the curve. I straddled his black thighs. I lowered my wet cunt until it swallowed his rod whole. My legs were under me. I began to move up and down on his cock. I was fucking him! He was wild, too. His massive, black hands grabbed my titties and he squeezed the life out of them as I continued to bounce up and down on that hard flagpole. I wanted to be on top so as to save him from becoming exhausted again. I could also get more of that cock in me from the above position.
I felt him go deep inside me. There was a look of real pleasure and intense sexual glow on his perspiring face. He smiled at me and grunted. I could see his white teeth and his black tongue. I had ideas about how good he could eat a pussy. I listened to the sounds of my wet cunt smacking his thighs. My whole bottom was wet with secretions and sweat.
I could feel the pull. Just a little longer, a few more minutes, and I could go into orbit! But the black son of a bitch started coming! I screamed at him. I spit in his face. I called him every dirty mother name I could think of. I told him he wasn't even half a man! I screamed at that Negro so much that he almost began to cry!
"I gotta give up, Miz Thompson," he said, breathlessly and shaking. "I jus' can't do no more. I never fuck a woman so long she couldn't come before. Miz Thompson...how many men do it take for you?"
"How many can you get for me?" I asked him smartly, rubbing my cunt real hard. "I'll pay you, Leroy.
"Is three okay?" he asked, looking at me doubtfully.
"How about three?" I responded, spanking my open cunt. "You got any brothers bigger than you?"
Leroy was shook up. He kept apologizing for not being able to get me off. He also gave me the name and address of a place in the ghetto to meet him the next evening. It was a Negro motel, run by an old man and woman who were alcoholics.
Four cars loaded with Negro men were waiting outside when Leroy met me at the door of the place and took me up to a room. He told me I would be safe with them, that he had told them he would kill any one of them who hurt me. They were all high on whiskey, pills, or something. They came in two at a time and they took out their cocks and began pulling at them as soon as they saw my naked white body stretched out on the bed begging for them. The guys outside were calling through the window for each pair to hurry up, so they would get to me while I was still going. Little did they know that I'd be ready to go when all of them were fucked out.
The first one on hit me like a wild man! He started to bite my shoulder. I milked his cock with my cunt muscles, and he came right away, cursing himself bitterly. I threw him off and urged the second one on. Within fifteen minutes I had exhausted three, big, horny, black men and I wasn't even warmed up. I was getting a lot of cock shoved into me, but they became soft and useless too quickly. I tore at their shoulders, screamed, cried out like a wild woman. It was a good thing that place was secluded and otherwise empty or the police would have been there. Believe it or not I had sex with eleven men that night and wanted more. Two guys got me in bed when they realized they had a real wild woman. One guy shoved it in me from the front, another from the rear, and a third Negro sunk it in my mouth. I was filled with cock in every way and begging for more. I was like the mayonnaise placed between two pieces of black bread. But I loved those black dicks in me!
One big guy got me down on the floor on all fours like a dog. His cock must have been eight inches long. He shoved it in my pussy first from behind and then he rammed it in my asshole. I cried out, gasped, and moved back to him. I let him have his way with me. I thought for sure he was going to be the one to make me come!
But he wasn't. As soon as he shot off in me, another guy slipped it in. Another cock first in my cunt then in my ass...and shoot off. One big black got under me and was sucking my tits for dear life. I know I came closer that night to being satisfied than I ever had before...since I became a nympho. If they had kept it up another two hours, I might have made it and been relaxed and content. But some of them had to get home to their wives, and the four who stayed couldn't get another erection even with me sucking their cocks for ten minutes each.
Leroy came in and got into the shower with me. He washed all the come and sweat and secretions off of me, and drove me back to my apartment in his car. I gave him a fifty dollar bill. Almost every week after that Leroy arranged another gang-bang for me. It wasn't complete, but it was something I had to look forward to every week. . . and hope.
All good things come to an end, don't they? Leroy's wife, and the wives of several of the guys who came to fuck me, found out what was going on. They called the police one night, but one of the guys got me out back and into his car, and they never could prove anything.
Oh, God! I was ready to climb the walls or fuck the doorknobs by then. The next janitor we had was a real religious white guy who told me I was going to hell every time I let him see me naked or asked him outright for cock.
Leroy had given me the name of a bellhop he knew in one of the city's biggest hotels for rich businessmen and conventions. With my looks and body, I figured I couldn't lose...making some good money. The bellhop was okay and got me a lot of business. He earned his one-third cut. But there were never enough men to satisfy me. I wanted gang-bangs again, but they were hard to find. I always went to bed restless, unable to sleep, and nervous. I averaged four men a night, but it was never enough! One of my guys told me that I should become a swinger and join some of the sex clubs because there were always plenty of men wanting to meet single girls. I hoped it would work, but the trouble was that I hurt most men's egos when I began to hand-fuck myself like crazy when they finished fucking me.
I joined some of the clubs and began to get all kinds of letters. I got some kicks from writing to guys and telling them how I wanted to be fucked by fifty guys, one right after the other. They didn't quite believe it, but when they had a swinging party I bet them I could handle every man there. I won more bets that way. I could have exhausted a small army, I think.
I began to travel a lot to meet guys or join a group, and it always paid off. It wasn't like I was a pro with them, but the expense payments were terrific! I always made sure at least five or six men would be available before I went to a party. Sometimes, when four men worked on me for an hour or two, fucking my mouth, ass and cunt, and sucking and biting my clit so that I rammed it in their faces from the pain, I was almost satisfied. But most of the time I ended up digging frantically at myself with my fingers and rolling around on the floor in a crying, screaming fit!
My sex life is all screwed up. I began sex very early. I had my first period early and then I wanted to get fucked. It's never stopped since then. The desire only becomes stronger....I've been married twice-and no man will stay with me after he finds out there's nothing he can do to satisfy me sexually....Sometimes, I feel like I want to kill myself!
Comment: There are many men who boast that they have found a "real nympho" for a girlfriend. Others feel it would be sexual paradise to find one to marry. There is an old riddle that goes: "What kind of woman would make a perfect wife?" The answer is: "A nymphomaniac who owns a liquor store."
The truth of the matter is that very few men have ever come into contact with a nymphomaniac as clinically defined. If they had, they would not boast about it. The true nymphomaniac is in a state of constant arousal, her desires insatiable. And Nell Thompson has certainly represented a graphic example of what is meant by true "nymphomania."
The origins of nymphomania may be physical: some irritating factor in the clitoral or vulval area I think most authorities are in agreement, however, that the problem is usually of psychological origin. In Nell's case, we only find out that she began her sexual excesses as soon as she began to menstruate. And this poses a question. Since her cravings began with a physical change, is there not a possibility that she needs medical help, an operation, that her problem is indeed physical in origin? Only a physician could tell us the answer to that.
I receive the impression that Nell had a very lonesome childhood. Perhaps she felt unwanted, except by boys. She says that she began to menstruate early, and I assume that her breasts were already developing and her legs taking on a look of mature femininity. She had probably beard from some questionable source that a girl was not "supposed" to have intercourse until after puberty. And the only form of intercourse she mentions at that period is genital-to-genital coitus.
Throughout her long narrative, Nell shows only passing interest in fellatio, cunnilingus, and other variations, with the exception of anal penetration. She is what we might call penis-oriented or penetrative-oriented. She has absolutely no desire for Lesbian love, and would obviously rather "fuck doorknobs" than to think of having sex with another female.
Perhaps the truth of the matter is that she is a covert Lesbian, one who refuses to recognize such a possibility. Yet she does not "protest too much." She never even mentions Lesbian contacts or speak of female homosexual lovemaking. It was recommended that Nell go first to a qualified gynecologist for a complete physical exam, explaining her problem fully to the physician. If he does not feel that her condition can be aided by an operation or medication, he should then refer her to a psychologist or psychiatrist whom he personally knows and has faith in. In that way, whether she can benefit from some medical care or not, the psychotherapist will be in touch with her gynecologist when the need may arise.
The nymphomaniac is indeed a very pitiful woman. The bearded drunk, the unemployed ass, men roaming the streets for a pickup-they all look good to her. Yet she finds few takers. They all know her, recognize her, and avoid her. As much as they themselves may hunger for sex, and as shapely and attractive as the nymphomaniac may be, they know they will be incapable of satisfying her, that the experience will be exhaustive and frustrating, that scratches, bruises and teeth marks will leave the telltale evidence of the nymphomaniac's dissatisfaction.