Chapter 1
THE GAY DIVORCEES
Before the three women left my office to begin their world tour of youths they all submitted to a taped interview so that I could delve into the motivations behind their highly erotic plans. This will give the reader an introduction to each woman and the basis of her drive towards pedophilia. Their names, of course, are not fully given.
CASE HISTORY: Veronica D-. Age: 30.
The subject is the youngest of the trio and she had been married for twelve years before her husband demanded a divorce so he could marry a girl of nineteen. Veronica is an exceptionally beautiful blonde with large blue eyes, firm breasts and shapely legs. Her ex-husband, Gregory, is an airline pilot seven years her senior who managed to provide her with a good living when they were together and now was able to continue this financial support with only a moderate strain on his resources via alimony payments. Here is the attractive blonde's description of her life with the pilot:
"I was only eighteen when I married Gregory. I gave up college just to be with him. He was in the U.S. Air Force at the time so I went with him from one base to the other all over the world. Some of the bases were awful drags because there was so much to distract the servicemen while we wives had to sit in our houses waiting for our husbands to come home. We all knew that they fooled around with the pretty native girls because they used to come home to pooped to pop, as the saying goes.
"I guess I couldn't blame Greg for playing around because those young girls all but threw themselves at him. He was the handsome and, by their standards, rich American who was so generous with his love and money. For five dollars he could buy the most beautiful young girl in the island. When I say young I mean young. Some of the kids who hung around the air base were no more than thirteen. When I told my husband that only a degenerate would mess with kids he laughed and said that girls in some parts of the world are women before they reach their teens.
"Well, you can't say I didn't try to keep my man home because I'm anything but frigid. When it comes to sex I have no taboos. On our honeymoon Gregory introduced me to such exotic items as fellatio and cunnilingus. He was pleased when I didn't try to stop him. He mouthed my vagina hungrily and I mouthed his sex organ the same way. Some men go to other women, prostitutes, to pay them for the kind of sex they wanted and their wives refused to give them but Greg couldn't complain about me. In a joking way he used to tell me that I could always make a living in a French bordello if things ever got tough for us.
"When Greg finished his time in the Air Force I figured he would settle down once he got back to America. He certainly had sown enough wild oats. It was all right to mess around with little girls overseas but he could get thrown in the slam if he tried it in the U. S. of A.
"For awhile I actually thought that my husband had given up his skirt-chasing as he took all kinds of lessons and tests to become a commercial airline pilot. If there was one thing that Greg loved as much as sex it was flying.
"He landed a job with an airline and the money started to roll in. Commercial pilots make damn good salaries so I felt I could enjoy all the goodies life had to bring. We bought a home for thirty grand, new furniture and a car each. After all those Air Force years we were on top of it at last.
"I don't have to tell you that Greg's job kept him away from home most of the time so it was like being back in the service again. I soon found out that commercial pilots make out better than servicemen do because girls looked upon them as romantic figures. I had to say this much for my husband ... he was. When I visited him at the airport I used to watch these stewardesses look at him like a fresh piece of meat to be eaten. And didn't Greg love the attention! He lived on female devotion the way horses live on hay. He just couldn't do without it.
"My old fears about losing Greg to other girls began to nag me. I made up my mind I wouldn't get fat and dull so I kept my figure and acted like the inmate of a French bordello as Greg always liked me to be. When I think of those nights I turned on all my sexual burners I could cry because he always had some other chick on the string all the time.
"When Greg came home from a hard day in the atmosphere I waited on him hand and foot. I took off his shoes like a Japanese girl and massaged his back like a Swede. For my international husband I had to be a woman of all nations. Frankly I think I spoiled the handsome bastard.
"He took it for granted that I would follow him into the shower where I used to wash his back, his chest, his butts, his legs and his ever-loving sexual parts. I dried him and placed him on bed where I rubbed his body and watched his tired penis finally erect. When he was ready he didn't have to do anything. I placed my body on top of his and impaled my cleft on his rigid tube of flesh.
"'Faster, honey,' he moaned. 'Make me cream."
"And, like a sucker, I rammed my body against his, screwing him while he lay there groaning with pleasure. When he spilled out his sperm I rested on him and licked his face to show how grateful I was that he showed me such passion.
"That was only the beginning of my licking journey. I ran my tongue down his hairy chest and further down to his half-limp penis. After I licked it back into hardness I took it orally and fellated him until he had another orgasm.
"'You're good to me, baby,' he sighed afterwards and finally stirred himself enough to suck my nipples. Once Greg got going, though, there was no stopping him.
Excitement mounted in him quickly after being passive for so long. He spread my legs wide and clamped his open mouth on my vagina. He thrilled me with his artful tongue and I wondered just how many other girls he made happy with it.
"Even though my husband was seven years older he began to think of me as a dowdy hag. He used to complain that my flesh was starting to sag and that I was developing a double chin. Like all men he completely ignored the fact that he was getting on in years. He started to gray at the temples and his waist thickened. Greg didn't let himself go to pot exactly but he was rapidly showing his age. Compared to him I was still the eighteen year old he married. Granted I don't look eighteen but I'm hardly ready for the scrap heap.
"Greg started to come home later and less and I knew that he had found another playmate. He was pushing forty and I guess he realized he wasn't going to be the high-flying lover boy forever. In desperation, in a last fling at youth, he started messing around with a nineteen year old kitten. I found this out by accident when I drove downtown once. I stopped for a light and there was a couple coming across the street that looked, at first sight, to be father and daughter. Then I recognize my husband as he came closer. He didn't see me because he had his eyes for this leggy, baby-faced kid who looked like a high-school cheer leader. Greg always did like 'em young. Hell, he married me when I was eighteen, didn't he?
"I was all ready to forgive and forget knowing that my husband wasn't a model of virtue. I thought that this affair with the girl would only be a passing fling. But Greg surprised me one day when he asked for a divorce. I didn't want to give it to him so he offered me all kinds of financial settlements just so he could be free to marry the teenager. Well, when I saw that he was determined I decided to milk the bastard for everything I could grab. I got the house, the furniture and one of the cars. Besides this I get a nice monthly check. The day I got the divorce I went home and got drunk. In tears I called my friend here, Jean, who had recently been divorced and she came over to keep me company. Jean had lost her husband to a younger girl so we had something to cry about together. But, you let her tell it in her own way."
CASE HISTORY: Jean K-. Age: 35.
The subject is a slim brunette with small, delicate features. She is built along petite lines and there is a slightly Oriental cast to her face. Jean married her husband Harold when they were both twenty-one and they had graduated from the same university. Her former husband is an executive in a tool-and-die plant and he makes an impressive salary. He asked for a divorce when he met and fell in love with his secretary a girl of twenty.
"Yes, I remember the day that Veronica called me over. I don't think men realize how hard women take divorces. They can go on and find others willing enough to sleep with them but, when a woman passes thirty, the pickings aren't that easy. For one thing society frowns on older women who try to take younger men as lovers. It was easy enough for Harold to drop me and pick up with a twenty year old girl at the age of thirty-five but just suppose I tried that with a boy of twenty?
"After listening to Veronica tell her story I'm stunned by the fact, once again, just how similiar our lives are. Harold never wanted for anything in bed and I never said no to him because I was tired or simply not in the mood. He wasn't exactly a handsome man but he was man enough between his legs. Girls didn't chase him the way they did Greg but, in his own quiet way, he did manage to spread his sexual wealth around.
"In the beginning Harold was more interested in climbing up the corporate ladder than he was in getting into girls. I supplied him with all the satisfaction he needed. When he wasn't in the mood for sex I would leave him alone. I didn't want to be one of these nagging bitches out of "Whose Afraid of Virginia Woolf?" While I could not press for my erotic needs Harold could use me anytime he wanted. Damn fool that I was I let him. Now that I look back I should've said no a few times and built his character and self-control.
"I suppose after a decade and a half of marriage one could be sexually stimulating for just so long. Our relations in bed became automatic rather than passionate. Harold would mount me and thrust his penis into my vagina but, once he climaxed, he rolled over on his side and went to sleep. I would stare up at the dark ceiling trying to calm my emotions that had just been stirred by his aburpt love-making. When I tried to get my husband to be more romantic he mumbled and told me to take a sleeping pill and 'forget it'. That was my practical hubby for you.
"It wasn't long before I took sleeping pills on a regular basis to 'forget it'. I assumed that Harold had simply slowed down sexually before his time and I'd just have to get used to it. Then I found out that my husband hadn't slowed down at all but, rather, had gone into fourth gear with a girl who seemed like a child to me. I guess I should've suspected something was wrong when Harold found too many excuses not to come home for dinner. I could readily see that he was eating at another table.
"I don't want to bore you with all the weepy details but it is enough to say that I agreed not to stand in Harold's way if he wanted this girl so. I just reminded him that I had given him almost fifteen years of my life and that I deserved to be taken care of. Fifteen years! This girl he was after had been five years old when we were married. I wouldn't be surprised that, after Harold gets tired of her, he'll toss the old bag aside and pick up with another kid. Maybe this one is an infant now. She'll be just ripe for Harold in less than another two decades. He'll be over seventy but that's not supposed to matter much these days.
"At any rate I comforted Veronica the best I could when she called me and I got more than a little tanked up with her. When I get loaded I have to use the telephone so I called a woman I knew who was in the same fix as we were. I thought it would be a fine deal if all three of us had a good cry together. Let Slone carry the ball from here...."
CASE HISTORY: Slone H-. Age: 40.
The subject is the oldest of the trio of recently divorced women. Slone has chestnut hair, brown eyes and a somewhat plump body that is still shapely and sensual. She had been married to a man, Jerome, for twenty years before he demanded a divorce in order to marry his mistress ... a girl of eighteen. Jerome is a doctor with an excellent practice so, like her companions, the recently divorced woman has had a good settlement and her monthly payments will be coming in regularly for the rest of her life if she does not marry again.
"That was some day. There were the three of us bawling our eyes out over men who weren't worth a tear. I had never met Veronica before that day but I looked upon her as a sister. She had just lost her husband to a teenaged girl just as I had. But my man was nearing fifty before he suddenly decided to become a young lover again.
"Jerome never seemed the type to stray and that made his passion for a girl of eighteen all the more shocking. My husband was one man who was more married to his work than to me. I didn't mind. I think doctors should be dedicated. What hurts me most of all is ... I'm the one who made it possible for him to go through his medical school!
"When we married Jerome was halfway through his medical schooling and I agreed to support him until he was finished. It wasn't easy and we hardly had any home life at all. When he finally did start his practice I still continued to work until he got established. This took a couple of more years out of my life. But, in time, he started to make the living we had both sacrificed so much for.
"As for our love-making neither of us had grounds for complaint especially in the early part of our marriage. Sex was our only real pleasure, the only one we could really afford since it was free. Times were hard but we forgot them in bed. We used to play sex games pretending to be other people in other centuries. For example I once pretended to be Cleopatra while he pretended to be Mark Anthony. I danced around in our little flat wearing nothing but a bed sheet while Jerome sat on the bed with a towel wrapped around his waist like a toga. He was very handsome then in a rough-and-ready sort of way.
"I delighted in watching his eyes widen as I showed him my naked body in flashes. How desire came quickly to his eyes in those early days! It wasn't the only place he felt desire because he pulled off his towel and showed me his uplifted penis. Jerome held me in his arms and pulled away the sheet. We stood naked together facing one another and my husband played his tube of sex over my opening. 'Enough already with the dancing Cleopatra,' he whispered. 'Let's get down to business."
"Jerome grasped my buttocks and rammed his rigid flesh into my body and started to move back and forth. The shabby room faded and I became aware only of his movements; his muscular body against mine. His release came in a flood and I all but swooned into him.
"In other scenes I played slave to his master and we used to reverse the parts. I used to whip his naked body with pillow cases ... not too hard, you understand ... while he crawled before me. 'Lick my sex,' I ordered him and he pressed his mouth against my vagina. As he performed the act I stroked his hair and realized how lucky I was to have such a vital, active, handsome man for my own.
"Fun and games vanished with out youth and we stopped playing parts in sex scenes. Jerome built his practice up steadily and we had all the things we ever wanted. But, somehow, I longed for the old days of poverty and passion. How I wanted to be young again!
"I didn't realize that my husband hungered for youth, too, until one of my friends told me that Jerome had a young mistress. I didn't believe her because my husband had never shown interest in any other woman since our marriage. Then this friend gave me the name and address of the girl. She told me that Jerome had set her up in the apartment like a sugar daddy.
"I didn't like the idea of sending a private detective out to check out the story so I went myself. This little girl opened the door and I asked: 'Is your mother home?'
"Do I have to tell you that this little girl's mother was not my husband's mistress? This little girl was his bed partner! Well, I realize that eighteen isn't so little but that's the way she impressed me. I couldn't believe that my husband, nearing fifty, would take up with such a child.
"Jerome came into the apartment while I was there. I avoided a scene by simply walking out. When I met him again he announced that he was in love with the girl and wanted to marry her. I told Jerome to have his fun but don't break up our marriage because of his fling. He assured me that it was not a fling. At the age of forty-eight he wanted to marry a girl of eighteen.
"I called my husband a 'dirty old man' and a host of other things. The battle ended in the divorce court where I was granted a hefty settlement. Jerome didn't try to lower the price of his freedom because of his sense of guilt. He knew, in his heart, that there was something awfully wrong about rejecting a wife who had stood by him through his toughest days to marry a piece of fluff.
"I took some comfort in the fact that this was nothing new. Other women had been tossed aside by men who favored much younger girls. When Jane called me I went over to Veronica's house and enjoyed the company of other women who had the same problem. After we all had a good cry I blurted out: 'Why don't we take teenaged boys for lovers? Why should only men have the right to have young playmates?'
"That's how it all started. Because of the settlements from the divorce courts we were all financially independent and could travel the world if we wanted to in search of male youth. All of us plan to have boys by the dozens if not hundreds. What's to stop us? I'm looking forward to having my first teenaged lover."
When Veronica, Jane and Slone left the office I put the tapes away sure that the women weren't going to go through with their plans. Then, less than two weeks later, I received three letters in the mail postmarked London, England. The gay divorcees had begun their world-wide journey into female pedophilia.