Chapter 10
It was a sixteen year old boy who halted the mental and physical deterioration of my body and mind while under the umbrella of lust which my perversion called forth. Until I met Henry, there is no doubt that I was falling apart; that I was unble to function any longer in my career or even in the small activities that define the human being.
Each cock I possessed, each delightful body which I drew into my womanhood, sent me further down the road to perdition.
But then I met Henry and when I emerged from my encounter with him, it was as if I had taken some type of miraculous bath which completely rejuvenated my person.
With Henry I became a child. Yes, that was the secret of our relationship. Henry was a child and for the first time in my relationship with young boys, I retrogressed until I too had become a child. This was the miraculous "bath" of which I speak. All the joys and carefree hallucinations of a child flooded my mind. Gone were the problems of career and success; all that was left was the gratification of the body with a passion and completeness that only children can know.
It never happened before and it has never happened again. Thus, I am led to believe that Henry was unique in my life, one of those monuments to Nature which are uncovered only once in a century and then lost forever. Today, looking back, I realize that Henry contained in himself the greatness that only ancient Greeks could comprehend; the notion that Truth comes from the body and only the body.
It began on a blazing summer day. After finishing at the office, I did not feel like going straight home so I walked to a small park in the neighborhood and sat down on a bench in the shade of an old tree.
Off to one side, a group of young children were playing. They were supervised by a boy of about sixteen who was teaching them a number of games. It was obvious to me that they were part of a summer day-camp, of which the city abounds in the summer. I was fascinated by the skill and dedication of the counselor who was making a monumental effort to keep all of the children occupied.
But it was more than the boy's dedication which caught my interest. It was his sense of joy at being with the young children and it was his genuine delight at being part of their activities.
The boy loved the games he was teaching more than the pupils! His face was flushed from the heat and the activity and a wide band of sweat had appeared on his white shirt. Their play continued for a long time and then I saw him raise his hands to signal that the games were over. The children gathered around him plying him with questions about what they would do the next day.
One by one the parents of the children arrived and escorted their sons and daughters home. Soon the counselor was alone. There was something so pure about his dedication that I had to speak to him. As he was walking out of the playground, I called to him: "Why don't you sit here for a while? You seem to be exhausted."
He smiled at me, shrugged his shoulders as if he was used to the exhaustion, and hesitated, trying to decide whether to accept my offer.
Finally, he walked over to the bench and seated himself only a few inches away.
"Do you do this every day during the summer?"
He nodded his head and replied: "I didn't realize it would be this much work. This is the first summer I'm doing this kind of work. Last summer I worked in a grocery delivering orders."
The boy had a beautiful face and he spoke in a frank manner, ready to disclose the innermost thoughts to anyone who took an interest. This was a quality one did not often see in the city and one much to be treasured. He was a well-built lad, with a mop of unruly brown hair falling over his eyes which he constantly pushed away. I introduced myself and he did the same. His name was Henry, he was sixteen, and he lived with his father and mother only a few blocks away. His father owned an antique store.
"I have long ago lost the ability to play."
He did not reply to my statement, instead, he looked at me with a lingering sadness as if I had also, then, lost the ability to live.
We chatted for a while and then the boy excused himself, politely, saying that he had to be home for supper. We shook hands in a formal manner and he was gone. I watched the movement of his body, the firmness of his hips and the line of his neck until he was out of sight. Then, I too, went home.
The next day at the office, all I could think of was Henry. In the morning, I thought of him as merely an interesting child but as the day wore on, I began to think of him as a sexual partner, I began to think of his maleness, nestled so succinctly between his thighs and waiting only for my lips to bring it to an excited stiffness.
When I left the office, my passion was so total that I gravitated once again to the small park. He was there with the children.
I sat on the bench and watched him. Once he looked at me and then, recognizing me, waved briefly, his face breaking into a smile.
When the children had gone, he came over to me and sat on the bench. Once again we talked about little, unimportant things. The closeness of his seated body inflamed me. I squirmed on the wooden seat. Finally, I said to him: "Look, one of my nephews is at my apartment now. He is a problem-child, as the textbooks say. Why don't you come over for a' few moments and play with him? Just see what you can do."
It was an incredible lie but it was the only way I could think of to entice him to my apartment. He thought for a long while and then finally his sense of duty to young children made him say: "O.K. let's go, but I can't stay long."
We walked slowly to my apartment. I have never felt so young, listening to his enthusiastic talk, and every once in a while intentionally swaying against him to feel those supple young muscles at work.
When we arrived inside the apartment, he looked around for my nephew.
"Where is he?"
I made out as if the child had vanished without permission, walking quickly from room to room and calling out a mythical name.
"Shall we call the police?" asked Henry in a frightened voice.
"Oh, no," I said, "the child's apartment is only around the corner and he often goes home when I don't arrive on time. His mother is always home."
Henry was relieved. He stood by the door, waiting to leave.
"Since you're here already, how about a cold drink?"
He nodded that it would be nice and I brought out a large pitcher of cold milk and some chocolate chip cookies and placed them on the coffee table in front of the sofa. He drank the milk quickly and his powerful white teeth devoured the cookies.
"Now that you're here, I have a good idea."
"What's that?"
"Well, you could teach me to play."
"You," he said, "are a grown woman. I don't think it would look good if you started playing."
"I don't care how I look. Are you afraid to teach me to play?"
"I'm not afraid of you."
His words were brave but I knew that he was afraid. I knew that he had an inkling of my body, I knew that he was afraid of my lips which were aching to clamp themselves on the innocent flesh of his maleness.
"Teach me that game I saw you showing the children yesterday, where everyone has to behave like an animal."
"O.K.," he said, shrugging his shoulders as if the only way to treat a mad woman was to listen to her requests.
He walked over to me and instructed me to crouch on my knees.
"Now," he said, "using only your hands, try to imitate an elephant."
I began to wave my hands in a great arc as if they were elephant trunks. Then I began to mimic the sounds of an elephant before they charge; that great, earth shattering scream.
I could see Henry's eyes gleam with approval at my masterful mimicry.
"Good, good," he said.
I continued, basking in his praise, and the mimicry made me release all of my repressed lusts. One of my hands leaped out, just as an elephant's trunk leaps out to capture a succulent twine, and rested between his legs. The child froze. He did not know what to do. I stroked his hidden cock.
"No, don't," he said in a frantic, pleading voice.
But it was too late. Pulling him to the floor beside me, I began to undress him. He struggled very little, somehow realizing that he had enmeshed himself in a situation from which there was no escape.
He was naked and I became naked. Holding onto him, we both rolled across the room, making the most insane sounds, carrying the rules of the game to its final and fitting conclusion.
My mouth found his cock. It was so cool and distant. Within a few moments my lips and tongue turned that maleness into a burning mass of erect flesh, burning to sink itself into its proper home.
My lips sucked on his globes, delighting in the fragrant aroma. Then I gave him my nipples. Yes, I let his virgin mouth pay there homage to that source of milk and life. I laughed hysterically as his hands dug into my white naked breasts and his lips plucked my singing nipples like they were ripe cherries on the vine.
We were both smiling then, both caught up in the incredible fantasy of play.
Finally, aching to be penetrated, I lay on my back and pulled him to me. I spread my legs wide and my quivering cunt sucked in that now stiffened organ. It sunk into me and I cried out. Never before had I felt such a sublime entry.
Henry's face was close to mind and there was terror in his eyes. This was the first time his cock had tasted the delights of a female flower. I kissed his face, assuring him that all was well and then I brought my buttocks up to meet his thighs, to show him that there was a new world if only he would drive his cock deeper and deeper.
His natural juices began to boil and I felt his powerful body begin that sublime movement, sending the cock ever deeper into my body, moving it from side to side and sending each piece of moist flesh into a paroxysm of lust. It was quick, too quick, for a second later my cunt absorbed the love juice and he fell to one side, an exhausted child.
I crawled to the coffee table and poured what was left of the cold milk on his body. This revived him and we began to play again, crawling about the room, mimicking the sounds and movements of animals.
Once again our passion surfaced, but this time I wanted to prolong it.
This time I let my tongue search out every fragrent opening of his body. He lay on the floor, completely submitting to its wisdom. Then I moved over him and let my flower rest on his lips. At first the fear returned to his eyes again, but his tongue finally snaked out and tasted the moist delights of my cunt.
We rolled all over the apartment, our tongues and hands constantly at work. I sucked the sweat from his body and let my teeth play with the loose sac of his globes.
Again, we were ready. This time I squatted on all fours to be penetrated by an animal. Henry had reached a peak of lust which was totally new to him. He leaped on me like some savage wolf.
I shivered as his cock ravaged me, tearing deep into my delicate flower, his teeth fastening on my neck and his fingernails clawing my buttocks.
That child fucked me as I had never been fucked before. Each thrust brought cries of pain and lust from my mouth.
Our play had turned to passionate games and then to brutal games. I tried to escape from that cock. Finally, I was free of it, gasping, but only for a moment. His powerful young body impaled me again, this time between my buttocks and sending me once again to the floor.
Henry was crying like a warrior who had slaughtered his most illustrious foe. His thrusts became more and more savage and finally, closing my quivering buttocks to him, I turned and let that awesome cock slide between my lips.
There, with a few experienced swipes, I drained the love juice from him, leaving him an exhausted, satisfied child on the floor.
That was the first afternoon and only the beginning. For weeks afterwards he would come to my apartment after he finished his duties in the park, and we would explore the world of play. While playing those silly little games, our flesh would reach the height of lust, and open our bodies to each other, to be penetrated, to be loved, to be sucked.
These were afternoons of innocent joy; a return to the mainsprings of my life-my childhood. They were afternoons which I shall never be able to duplicate and I shall revere Henry for as long as I live.
This was an exceptionally important chapter for a number of reasons. There is a whole school of German psychology which believes that the most important truths which can be garnered about the human specie are to be found in the phenomenon of play. Obviously, this chapter is a gold mine for such theories.
But, for the more classical strains of psychological thought, Henry was a landmark in her perversion for another reason.
Since she rarely mentions her childhood, we can assume she remembers little or nothing about those crucial erotic experiences which took place then. With Henry, for the first time, she speaks about her childhood. Even though she mentions no specific facts-she is beginning to consider her childhood as a unique period in her life.
There is no doubt that her view, at this time, of that period is Utopian. But this is only the beginning and it is possible that this one episode will be the key which opens the traumas of her past.
That she subconsciously desires to dig up the past can be inferred from the fact that most of her sexual acts with Henry were, in reality, the erotic play of children-hence the extended use of tongue, mouth and fingers.
Whether or not she can make the break-through into an understanding of her childhood will depend on whether she can attract other adolescents such as Henry, who still are emotionally in the 7-12 year age bracket.