Chapter 9
Miss Barbara W-, 41 yrs. Brunette. Single.
5'7". 122 lbs.
A lot of it's my fault, I know that. You know how it is when you're six inches taller than anyone else in the whole junior high school you tend to react rather sharply against the teasing from the other kids. I did exactly the same thing, with the result that I didn't have too many friends for a long time. In fact, it wasn't until I was a senior in high school that I finally began working out of my shell and trying to relate to other people on other than a hostile basis. By that time, of course, I'd already frightened off most of the boys who might otherwise have been interested in me.
This wasn't too great a problem because by that time I'd discovered the secret of masturbation and I was fully capable of caring for my sexual needs. The discrepancy between the pleasure I felt when a boy tired handling me and when I did it to myself was so great that I didn't see any great need for boys. Consequently I remained withdrawn to a great degree. Besides, there was Tim, my brother. He was a year older than me and I fear that I had a considerable crush on him. He abetted the thing by being so nice and understanding when I was having it so rough. He was also extra nice when I started finding out about sex. In fact, you might say that he was the one who got me started on the finger game, though he didn't realize it at the time.
"Hey, what are you doing?" I blurted out one afternoon when I wandered into his room without knocking; he was standing in front of his mirror handling his cock. "Wow, look how it's grown!"
I was so ignorant that I didn't even know about erections. I'd seen Tim's cock before but never like that. This particular afternoon, it had grown out till it looked almost as big as his arm and I was really astounded to see it.
"I'm jacking off," he said. "You want to stay around and watch?"
I said that I would. I knew that what he was doing was wrong that is, Mom would have said it was wrong, just like she said that everything was wrong which was any fun doing but that only made it all the better.
"Betty-likes to do this to me," he said, running his fist up and down the long shaft of his dick. "I've been trying to get her to let me fuck her but she won't do it. All she'll do is jack me off."
I'd heard kids talking about fucking and I knew it was a perfectly terrible thing to do but I didn't know just how you go about it. I guess I was about twelve or thirteen when this happened. Tim told me that all you had to do was get the guy's cock in your pussy and let him work it around till he shot off. I didn't know what that meant either but as I watched I saw him do it. He had a wad of toilet tissue on the dresser before him and when he aimed the head of his cock into that paper and started shooting out a thick stream of yellowish come I could see that it was really good for him. He groaned and shook all over till I was about to get concerned for him, but he told me it was the greatest feeling he'd ever had.
Naturally it wasn't too long before I began feeling and looking around between my legs, trying to find out if maybe I could so something like that too. I already knew that my slit was pretty sensitive; washing it and putting in tampons was enough to tell me that. It didn't take much investigating before I discovered where my clitoris was and after that I was off on my own target. I became more interested in sex and, being the studious sort, I hied myself off to the public library. There I sneaked out a couple of books from the Marriage and Hygiene section. They were pretty stiff reading and I had to spend a lot of time with the dictionary but by the time I'd finished reading them I knew a lot more about the subject of sex.
Except for the masturbating. I didn't get a chance to put my reading into practice until I was twenty-two. That's when I met this fellow who seemed to be really interested in me. I'd just finished college and had this job in the library downtown; he was doing a research project there and consequently I saw quite a bit of him. He took me out to lunch a few times and then to dinner. When he invited me up to his apartment after dinner I knew what was coming but I'd already decided that it was time I found out about sexual intercourse at first hand.
"Oohh, that's good!" I said as he pressed me against the back of his couch and ran his hand over my sweater, crushing my breasts underneath. "Not hard, don't do it hard they're so tender!"
"I'll be gentle," he promised, taking one of my hands and placing it on his cock. "I'll be sure to remember that!"
It was all a lie, of course. I had persuaded myself that since he was an older man, about thirty-five, I'd judged, he wouldn't be so impatient and hurried as a fellow my own age might be. I was also disappointed when I felt of his cock: it was only halfway hard and wasn't nearly as large as Tim's had been. All the time I'd been masturbating, I'd nearly always imagined that I was seeing Tim again, watching him fuck himself and bring his big, thick tool to a foaming, gushing climax. Consequently I'd psychologically conditioned myself to expect a massive prick, I suppose, and when I learned the truth of it was something of a disappointment.
"Wait, let me get my dress off!" I whispered as he pressed me down onto the couch and began tugging my panties down. "I'll get all wrinkled!"
"No, just let me do it!" he hissed, getting my panties off and lurching between my legs. "God, I've got to get it in!"
That's something I've yet to understand about that man. Even though his cock wasn't completely hard, he still had this great impatience to get it into my pussy! How can that be? Whatever the reason, I couldn't stop him and he forced himself further between my legs. I panicked, I admit it, and when I felt that he was going to go ahead and do it to me regardless of my protests I became frightened. I was also a little chagrined that he didn't want me to take my clothes off in dreaming about being fucked I had always imagined myself as being completely naked. Instead, here I was with my dress down around my breasts and only my panties removed; he still had on everything except his jacket and he was trying to fuck me! He didn't even unbuckle his trousers he just unzipped the fly, brought out his cock and began shoving it into my cunt.
"Owww! Ooohh!" I groaned. "It's hurting me! Stop, please stop!"
He wasn't about to stop, not once he'd gotten that far, and that's just the way it happened. I'd lost all my arousal by that time, naturally, and my desire shriveled away to nothing. Fortunately it didn't take him very long to come he just wiggled it in and out a few times and then he shot off, a little spurt of come that was more a mess than anything else. Almost as soon as he'd shot his cream into my cunt he got off, wiped off his cock and put it back in his trousers. That was the end of the evening's entertainment as far as he was concerned. I left his apartment shortly afterward. He didn't seem very interested in continuing our "friendship" once he'd gotten his orgasm and I certainly wasn't interested in prolonging the relationship.
After that I didn't have much to do with men for a long time. I retreated back into my shell, wondering if perhaps Mom had been right in telling me over and over that men were simply no good. I continued to do it to myself, of course, and more and more I had this fantasy-vision of doing things with Tim. He'd married and moved out to the west coast by that time and we never saw each other, never even corresponded much, but still I loved imagining that I was doing things with him. You know, playing with his cock, rubbing it against my breasts, sucking him, even making him put it into my pussy. Curiously, in those fantasies, I never allowed him to shoot off in my cunt I always made him remove it and direct the orgasmic spray onto my breasts, or perhaps into my mouth. I often had this daydream of him standing before me, jacking off like mad, and me kneeling in front of him with my mouth open, waiting for his climax. I'd always finger my pussy at the same time, of course, and just as I reached my own climax he could come, spurting out a long, thick stream of that fragrant cream until it shot all over my face and drenched my mouth with lust.
I fell into the habit of spending a lot of free time in a small park located just in front of my apartment house. I enjoyed taking a book out there and reading, or perhaps just sitting with the sun on me. It wasnt a big park and there weren't so many people who used it so often I could count on virtual seclusion. I was sitting there one afternoon, reading and enjoying the warmth, when I happened to look up. Directly across the path from me there was a small patch of grass, then a growth of bushes. A young man, perhaps fifteen or sixteen, was standing in the midst of those bushes, just watching me. As soon as he saw that I was looking at him he opened up his trousers and took out his cock. It was perfectly immense, or seemed so to my untrained eyes, and I was so shocked I couldn't do anything for a moment.
The youth was very tall for his age, perhaps close to six feet, and had a shock of long, blonde hair. As I watched, open-mouthed and stupefied, he began caressing his prick and it began growing before my very eyes. I was so astounded I couldn't do anything except sit there and gape. Fortunately no one was coming so there was no one but me to see him I later learned that he'd planned it just that way. The site he had chosen was peculiarly located; anyone coming up would have made enough noise on the graveled walk that he could have heard them and ducked out of sight.
As I watched, the kid brought his cock up to a full, throbbing erection and began masturbating. I immediately thought of Tim, naturally, but I couldn't bring myself to say a word. For one thing, I was afraid that I would frighten him away; for another, I was too spellbound by his display to be able to do anything but watch. My pussy was already throbbing until I didn't know if I could stand it any longer or not. As I watched, he finished jerking off and shot a tremendously large, thick stream of come into the air. I could even hear it spatter against the grass!
He disappeared immediately after his orgasm. I went back to my apartment, once I'd recovered enough to move, and of course I had to strip and do myself with my fingers. Ahh, the pleasure of that occasion, lying there with my legs spread wide and two fingers up my cunt as I remembered the sight of his cock shooting come high into the air! It was marvelous, just marvelous. I began to keep a closer watch on the park after that. I promised myself that I would go back if I ever saw that lad again. Upon the day that I saw him, I hurried from the apartment, almost forgetting to bring my purse with the door key in it. On an impulse, I took off my panties as I went back to get my purse.
I took my seat on the same bench and it wasn't too long before the kid stepped out of the bushes, exactly where he'd been before. This time, however, I was ready for him. As soon as I was sure that he was the same one and that no one else was around, I spread my legs wide and lifted them enough for him to be able to see my pussy. When he started jacking off I looked both ways and then put a hand between my legs, reaching up high so he could see that I was fingerfucking at the same time. That really astounded him and he stopped fist-fucking for a moment.
"Come over here!" I called out, low but determined. "Come here and sit down; I'd like to talk to you!"
He came over, very reluctantly; he later told me that he was sure I was a policewoman and that I was setting a trap for him. I only wanted to talk to him, to find out more about him.
"What do you want to talk about?" he asked. "And why did you do that? Open your legs and show it off, I mean?"
"Why did you take your cock out and jack off in front of me?" I replied, wanting to get straight to the point.
"I don't know, I just had this urge to do it," he said. "Usually, when I do that, the woman screams and runs. You're the first one who ever watched me all the way!"
"I enjoy watching things like that," I said. "And you? Did you like seeing my pussy? Watching me finger myself?"
"Yeah, that was a blast," he said, grinning a little nervously. "I never saw anything like that before!"
"Would you like to come up to my apartment?" I asked, getting bolder by the minute. "We could be some place where we didn't have to worry about people passing by and interrupting us."
"Uh, what for?"
"I'd like to watch you jack off again," I said. "I'd also like to do it to myself while you fist-fucked that big cock of yours! I'd like for you to shoot your come onto my face, into my mouth!"
"Jeez, I never did anything like that!" he whispered.
"This is your chance to break that record," I urged. "Look, I'm getting up now. If you want to take me up on my offer just follow me!"
I walked away, though it took an effort to do so, and within a few steps he caught up with me. We walked back to my apartment without saying another word. My pussy was getting hotter and hotter every step until I began to wonder if I'd be able to walk all the way. I made it, though, and led him into the apartment. Once we got inside we began undressing immediately. I led the way, stripping down first; when he saw my bra fall aside, leaving me completely naked, he knew I was for real and he stripped too. I was already running my hands over my thighs, brushing my fingertips over my pussy, and it was all I could do to keep from going ahead and trying to finish it off then and there.
"Oohh, that's a lovely cock!" I whispered as he removed his shorts and stood naked before me. "So big, so hard! Those balls, they look so full of come!"
I slipped down to my knees, planting them wide apart, and ran my fingers into the mouth of my cunt. My lips were just on a horizontal plane with his cock and no more than a foot away. I could feel that I was extremely aroused already; my pussy was hot and wet and I knew it wouldn't take long before I could get myself a wonderful come.
"Do it, do it to yourself!" I whispered, licking my lips in anticipation. "Jack off and shower me with come!"
"It won't take long," he murmured, running his fist up and down the big tool. "God, I'm so hot now I don't know what to do!"
"Just jerk off!" I answered. "Jerk off and shoot come, that's all I want you to do!"
He manipulated his prick so that the foreskin slipped up over the broad, flaring head of the tool; then he pulled it back with a slow, easy motion that just reeked of sensuality. Seeing the skin cover up that head and then expose it was one of the most exciting sights I'd ever seen. I dug deeper with my fingers, getting myself closer to the breaking point, and groaned with joy at the sensations running through my body.
"This is the greatest!" he muttered, flexing his knees slightly and arching his cock upward a little. "Oohh, man, am I ever going to shoot come all over your face!"
"Do it, do it!" I moaned. "Ahh, shoot! Shoot! I'm dying to feel your come on my face! I want to taste it in my mouth! Mmmmmm, do it now!"
"It won't be long," he muttered. "Yeah, I can feel my balls twitching now, they're getting ready!"
"Aggh! I'm coming too!" I groaned, fucking my fingers as hard as I could. "Ooohh, I'm creaming all over my fingers!"
My come was so strong at first I didn't know when he started shooting off. But then I woke up and I felt the spatter of the hot, sticky stuff against my cheeks. It was literally gushing out of his cock, coming out in big, strong jets that really had some force behind them. He directed the spray around, shooting some onto my face but mostly into my mouth. Ahh, the feel and taste of come squirting out directly onto my tongue and rolling down my throat! I can never think of that marvelous sensation and taste without getting excited all over again.
Having the real thing there was even better than it had been in my daydreams, honest it was. In my fantasies I'd had to pretend that it was happening but now there was no pretending-I had the real thing and it was simply too much. I came over and over in great, long throbbing waves of pleasure that radiated outward from my cunt and infused my entire body with sensations the like of which I'd never felt before.
"Ungghh! Owww!" I wailed as the sensations mounted higher. "Oohh, I can't stop coming! It's getting better and better; I don't want it to stop, not ever!"
He kept on pumping at this cock until he'd coaxed every drop of sperm from his balls. The last few drops ran down off his knuckles and fell onto the floor. I was simply paralyzed with sensual joy. I couldn't have moved if the building had been falling down, I truly believe it. After a long while, though, I managed to get out of the kneeling position and into a seated pose. I leaned back against an armchair-we were in the living room-and looked up at him with tear-filled eyes.
"It's never been that good before," I murmured. "I've been fucking myself for years and it's never been nearly that good!"
"I thought it was great too," he agreed. "It's a lot better, being able to see somebody else doing it at the same time-especially a woman!"
"Haven't you ever done anything with a girl before?" I asked.
"No, I. . .I don't hit it off with girls too well," he said.
"But you like seeing me do it to myself?"
"Great! It was out of sight! When I saw that you were coming and heard all the sexy things you were saying I couldn't stop, I just had to let go and shoot off!"
"I loved it," I said. "I loved feeling your cock shoot that come and I loved the tasted of it! I've never done anything like this before but I've always dreamed about it. Now I've found out what it's like-and it's even better than I'd imagined it would be!"
"Do you want to do it again?" he asked. "Just like we did this time, I mean?"
I suggested that he just kneel between my legs while I lay on my back and fingered my cunt. I thought that perhaps he would like this better, since he'd be able to see my fingers going in and out of my pussy, and he took to it right away. The truth is, I was just too tired to be able to make it on my knees again. That orgasm had really sapped me! But once he got into position and started working his prick, and my fingers had stroked some life back into my pussy, I became very lively and it wasn't long before I was creaming again. He took a little longer this time; my climax was over by the time his started. In a way that was better because I wasn't distracted-I could concentrate entirely upon his prick. When I saw him start to come I almost creamed again, just from the excitement of watching him!
We met several times after that and each time we became a little freer with each other. Finally we progressed to the point where he'd let me jack him off-wonderful!-and I allowed him to finger-fuck me. From there we went on to sucking him-even better!-and he licked my pussy until I came all over his face. He wasn't very interested in fucking me, though, and I didn't care much about that either. The best thing, still, was to have him stand in front of me and jack off, shooting the come onto my face. That never failed to produce the very strongest sensations in me and I could always come magnificently that way.
"I don't have anything against you," he said one day when I mentioned something about the regular way of making it. "You've really got a lovely pussy. But I just don't want to put my cock into a woman that way-I'd a lot rather show it to her, fuck my fist with her looking at me. That's probably the best of all, even better than letting you suck me off."
"I guess I feel the same way," I agreed. "As long as I can finger-fuck myself into a frenzy, why should we bother with trying to make your prick do the same work? Especially when I like to look at it so much!"
That was the settlement we arrived at: mostly we'd masturbate and watch each other, with him shooting come onto me. Sometimes we'd do it to each other and occasionally we'd suck each other off. The best part was always the masturbating, though; that's what really gave me the greatest thrills. We kept this up for almost two years and then he moved out of the city. I've been on the lookout since then for another boy who would be able to do everything just as I'd like it done but so far I haven't yet found him. I still do it to myself, but now I have two options for what I think about: lean remember either Tim or this other lad. That's better than the situation I had before. At least this way I've go something real to recall!
There are several problems implicit in Barbara's presentation of her case history but only a few of them can be touched on here. Most obvious, perhaps, is the possibility of an incestuous relationship between Barbara and her brother. There is no evidence that such a relationship was ever consummated; Barbara strenuously denied ever having done more than watch her brother masturbate and we have no sound reason for disbelieving her. There is every reason, however, to believe that she harbored incestuous longings toward her brother and might have been receptive to more positive advances from him. A thorough analysis of this side of her personality would require an extensive psychoanalysis; we were neither equipped nor allowed to undertake such an enterprise.
Another startling aspect of Barbara's case is her extreme responsiveness to visual forms of sexual stimulation. Her sexual life was extremely rich in erotic fantasies of an unusually detailed and graphic sort. It is the opinion of one authority that males are far more likely to be aroused by looking at the opposite sex, whether clothed or nude, and that at least one-third of a fairly representative sample of American females masturbated successfully without any fantasies. (Kinsey, Sexual Behavior in the Human Female, pp. 164-165, 650 and 667.) Moreover, the same authority found that women's "masturbatory fantasies were usually in accord with the overt experience of the individual. Males not infrequently have fantasies of unfulfilled or repressed desires, but the fantasies among the females had less often concerned activities of a sort which they had not had...." (Ibid., pp. 164-165.)
Barbara's fantasies concerned mutual masturbation with her brother, therefore, must be rated as highly unusual, considering the generally reported range of female masturbatory behavior.
We cannot explain this aberration. Perhaps a deep, probing analysis of Barbara's past might uncover some clues, but, as we earlier pointed out, this technique could not be employed. Certainly there have been very few women who have shared her explicitness in fantasy and even fewer whose success in finding a real-life counterpart of that dream-life has been so marked. We can be reasonably sure that Barbara's earlier unsuccessful experiences with males had a great deal to do with pushing her in the direction she took, which happened to be one capitalizing upon a much earlier experience-watching her brother masturbate. Here, as in many other cases we have seen, childhood experiences and training are decisive and remain with the subject for may years thereafter.