Chapter 5

DELIVERY BOYS AND WARPED DIVORCEES

In the better sections of almost every large city, there are luxury apartment houses, nattily furnished town houses, expensive buildings in which live the lonely divorcees who have regular alimony but irregular or non-existent love. These are the women who have failed in their roles as wives and must eke out their years in frustrated loneliness. Some have men who come to them, but many of these women have warped or unusual ideas about sexual fulfillment that are often unaccepted by these men.

Many of these lonely women have discovered the "stud power" of young boys. These are the women who will call up for home delivery of flowers, have telegrams sent to themselves, order room service, or any other excuse for getting an "innocent" boy into their homes. Once this is done, they can easily inveigle him into a form of sexual debauchery to satisfy their warped whims.

You may wonder about the "innocent" boys and why they succumb to the attentions of a much older woman. Much is traced to the disparity of the sexes according to Nature or biology or what-have-you.

A boy is physically mature while he is still emotionally underdeveloped at the pubertal age. A girl, on the other hand, is more emotionally mature while her sexual-physical needs are still underdeveloped when she reaches the pubertal age of 13 or 14. This peculiar imbalance may be difficult for some boys. The boys have a strong physical craving; they are able to have erections and seminal emissions. Emotionally, they are still in the stages of development. Sex, for them, is purely physical release of their physical tensions.

A girl at the age of 13, is aware of her responsibilities as a potential mother; she also fears pregnancy. She seeks emotional satisfaction and this precludes an all-physical relationship such as is coveted by boys.

Eventually, there is a suffusion of the elements and adolescent boys learn to control themselves (to varying degrees) and to recognize the needs of girls. But until there is this levelling off, the physical demands of the 14 or 15 or 16 year old boy can be most compelling.

The older woman is often aware of this and she takes advantage of a boy to use him solely for his "stud power" while she receives the carnal satisfaction she wants.

Some of the boys are aware of their power and take advantage of it. There is also another element involved as we see in the case that follows.

BARRY, AGE 16, TELEGRAM DELIVERY BOY. "I'm 16 and know I'm cute with my long hair and tight pants. I like an older woman because she makes me feel so young. Also, they do the book. Nothing like them." This candid expression is borne out of Barry's confusion about his male role. Since he is still in the formative years, he is unaware of emotional elements of sexual satisfaction. Futhermore, he is not yet fully mature (perhaps he never will be!) in the techniques of making love. Since his sole aim is physical release if HIS own sexual cravings, he is unconcerned about the needs of his partner.

Barry had several experiences with a few girls from his school, before he dropped out and went to work as a delivery boy. There was one girl, Irene.

They had gone to a typical Lovers Lane, where Barry parked his beat up car, then moved closer to the girl. "You're kind of nice," he said, as he put his arm around her, felt her breast. "Like to fool around?"

"Oh, Barry," she tried to appear distant, reserved, "you're too quick." She put her hand on his knee. She edged upward, felt the bulge. "Oooo," she gasped. It surprised her. "You're so excited."

"Open the zipper. Take it out." Barry was unlearned in the methods of foreplay and came directly to the point. "Go ahead. Make me feel good."

"I don't want to," she hesitated. Irene leaned back, let Barry's hands go up her thigh, then to fondle her pudenda, to insert a finger beneath her panties and to stroke the fleshly female lips to make her gasp and quiver. She locked her thighs on his hand as she felt familiar hot spasms tearing through her groin. "That feels good." She could feel his other hand fondling her breasts, tweaking her nipples until they became as gnarled and rocky as diamonds. "Just keep on," she moaned.

By now, Barry felt as if he would burst out of his pants. "Come on, Irene, fool with me, will ya?" He had to remove one hand and unzip himself. He withdrew his boy-man power and lewdly shook himself. He had boyish pride in his well-endowed virility. "See? Now, just play with it. Then we'll do something else."

Irene was startled at the abrupt sight. She reluctantly stroked his phallus, then upon his urging she cupped his scrotum, and sent shivers through him. But Irene, like the average female, is more emotionally concerned with what is done to herself, rather than devoting much attention to the male body. Yet Barry was at that adolescent stage where he could not understand his disparity in sexual inclinations. All he knew now was that he was rigid with carnal lust and he wanted a girl to stroke, even to kiss him where he would feel it.

"Barry, let's just play a little more." She wanted to be kissed. She arched her back and with an impatient gesture, opened her blouse and pulled it up high, under her armpits until her girlish breasts, firm and resilient, like inverted goblets, with red areolars, poked forth. "See? Won't you kiss them? I like it when a boy uses his lips on my nipples. Suck on them, Barry."

But Barry was unprepared for this form of masculine agression. Futhermore, he was on the passive side and preferred having a woman display agression in the sex act. It might be mentioned that we have many adult males among us who have this same sexual disposition. They are not agressive or fully brute-force masculine and often must just remain inert while the partner displays agressive actions by means of oral or tactile stimulation. These are the men (Barry would mature into such a type) who often prefer fellatio since their sexual libido is fixated at the all-physical release sense. They are undeveloped when it comes to emotional fusion with physical expression.

Barry licked his lips; he was still too young and too undeveloped emotionally to become aroused by naked breasts. He nuzzled his head between Irene's firm girlish breasts, licked at the dividing valley, fondled them until the nipples were swollen with response.

But Barry had to admit to himself that as far as he was concerned, this meant little to himself. He looked into Irene's face, saw the raw lust in her glazed eyes.

"Come on, Irene, whyn't you do it to me?" He raised up, twisted his lean, wiry body in the tight confines of the car until he loomed up before the startled girl. "Here, just lick it a little. I like it that way."

Barry and another boy had once "fooled around" in the basement of a deserted house. The other boy had performed an oral act upon Barry; he had been, obviously, a boy homosexual. He had taken Barry's erection in his mouth and provided oral stimulation until the boy erupted. All the while, Barry had just stretched out on the floor, remained inert and let the boy homosexual fellate him. It was a pure physical release that satisfied Barry's undeveloped and immature sense of sex. All was fixated at the level of his genitals. It was all localized in that small perimeter of nerve-drenched interest and relief was all he craved. He hardly did anything to the other boy except watch as the boy later masturbated because Barry had said he wouldn't do anything like that to him because he wasn't queer.

This type of release satisfied Barry and it, perhaps, helped establish a pattern that shaped the boy's sexual outlook.

Now, he wanted the same form of localized sexual stimulation from Irene.

"Come on. Just lick and nibble a little. It's clean, see? Go on, I'm dyin', Irene." He was all pent up, breathing rapidly. His face was perspiring. He felt droplets of sweat pouring down his sides. He needed this in the worst way. "Go on." He thrust the stout pole of his maleness to the resisting girl.

"I can't ... I can't Barry. I never do those things." She tried to avert him, but the boy was so angry and aroused, he was like a young animal. "Don't push it at me or I'll...."

"You'll do it, Irene. You'll do it or I'll beat you up!"

When Irene's mouth opened, Barry shoved himself forward and impaled the girl. Her lips and tongue were forced into rhythmic strokes while Barry held her head captive in his hands. He sputtered, gasped as he felt the inside tensions beginning to erupt with trigger-sensitive delicacy. "Damn it, don't bite! Don't bite!" he yelped. "I'll kill you if ... OOOOOooooo, keep on, keep on...." He started to tremble as if an inner explosion had rocked his loins.

Barry's eyes bulged in their sockets. His breath kept coming in a series of spurts. His heart thumped wildly. Suddenly, a hot flood gushed forth and he garbled his moans as he all but suffocated his groin on the resisting Irene's mouth. Again and again the shooting spasms tore through. The flood of lava was one of hot release. He loved it. "Oooo, man, this is good. Oooo, this feels good ... use your tongue, you damn bitch," he cursed her. "Use it ... wow ... OOO...."

The copious eruption had satiated Barry to the point where he was seized with a complete physical euphoria at the last dwindling spasms. He all but fell off to a side of the car, slumped on the seat.

"Where's the tissues? I don't want the ol' man to see what I did." He took several Kleenex tissues and wrapped them around his throbbing penis, shivering from the sensitive abrasion against the nerve drenched flesh. "Ooooooh, that sure felt good."

Irene was spitting into her handkerchief. "You dirty thing. I should have bitten you," she looked sick. "I'm never going to bother with you again. Take me home or I'll scream." She had hated it all. "What do you think it did for me? Nothing!" She adjusted her clothes and moved away from him on the seat.

Just then, there were honking sounds and it was apparent that local authorities had decided to break up the nest of car lovers. This brought an abrupt ending to Barry and Irene's rather one-sided session. Irene saw Barry in the school corridors for a few weeks thereafter; while he snickered at her, she just turned on her heel and walked off.

Shortly after that, Barry quit school. He never did like school and he wanted to earn some money on his own. At the age of 16, he started delivering telegrams to a better section of town. He was boyishly unaware that there were many lonely and sex-eager middle-aged women in this area who loved having a young boy. It restored confidence in themselves in being able to charm a male. It also enabled them to satisfy their own debauched cravings Barry would soon discover that these types of women would be perfect for his one-sided sexual cravings.

As we can see, while some of these middle-aged or adult women may be held accountable for debauching the morals of minor boys, the blame is often placed upon the boys, themselves. They derive satisfaction by having these adult women oral service them; also, many of these boys are aggressive and can perform coitus or sodomitic practices upon the women. The main driving point of this unnatural relationship is this: it provides physical release for the young boy who does not care to provide any form of satisfaction for the partner. The sole and total aim of these relationships is that of physical satisfaction for the boy.

It is this type of "one-sided" or fixated satisfaction that spawns this peculiar form of carnal attraction. It is built around the compulsion to have sex without love. It is a throwback to the formative adolescent years when physical satisfaction is all the pubertal boy seeks. If he finds someone to satisfy this craving, he may have his entire sexual outlook altered for life.

Barry met Mrs. Nora Thurston when he was sent out into the pouring rain to deliver a night letter to her duplex apartment. He was soaked to the skin when he knocked a her door, holding the sopping telegram in his hand. He was surly and uncomfortable when he saw her.

She was in her late 30's, possibly about 40. She wore a see-through housecoat with black lace bra and undies. It startled the two of them. Barry might never know that Nora frequently sent herself telegrams, hoping the boy would be cute enough so that there could be a sensual affair. But right now, he was dripping wet and angry.

"Here. I hope it's bad news!" he turned on his heel when he heard her call, "Oh, boy, will you please come here?" She arched her shoulders and thrust out her breasts, catching the look in his eye. "I'm so sorry. It's just some nuisance telegram. I had no idea it was being sent. I certainly didn't want it. Won't you come in and dry off? I'll prepare some hot chocolate for you."

Barry was still unsuspecting as he entered the sumptuously appointed duplex apartment. Inside, it was warm and cheerful; there was modernistic furniture, exotique paintings on the walls, a burning fireplace, soft music coming from a hidden hi-fi set. It added up to gilt edge and glass luxury with fur covered upholstered furniture. To the boy, this was "classy" and it appealed to him. He saw the way Mrs. Nora Thurston moved around, with her well rounded bottom creating a rounded arc, the backs of her naked thighs looking glossy through the filmy negligee. To the young boy, this was appealing. The fact that she was older had an unusual attraction for him as it does for many of these boys. She is older, maturer and more experienced. Therefore, she can do all the work. She had thus relieved him of the responsibility of his male role! Barry was this type of passive young male and in Nora, he saw an escape, a flight from reality. It was the start of a long relationship.

"You look so uncomfortable. Why not remove your wet things and take a hot shower? I'll get it ready for you." Just like that. Nora Thurston had taken charge of the situation. It was this masterful situation that catered to Barry's rather passive attitudes. "Go on," she urged as she went to the bathroom. "You don't have to get embarrassed. If you wish, undress in the bathroom. Then you can put on this robe."