Chapter 8
GROUP RATES
The Youth Exchange, like other clubs, offer their members "group rates." If a certain number of women get together they could get an equal number of boys at a lower rate. I found out this wrinkle by accident when I went to interview a forty-two year old widow who owned a summer colony.
The summer season had not begun so Ellen could enjoy the lake her summer colony of small cottages surrounded by herself. But the sprightly, youngish widow was not the hermit type. She invited several of her women friends to join her. As it happened all these women; married, single, divorced and widowed, were members of the Youth Exchange. This pre-summer vacation gave them all an opportunity to meet, bring their boys and even swap them thus having an exchange of youth within the Youth Exchange.
When I was invited out to the summer colony for the interview by Ellen I expected to find her alone amidst her cottages. Instead I found that the place had a number of people there already, some were in the lake splashing about and complaining how cold it was. What struck me most about the people was that all the women were mature and the males were very young. At first I thought it was some kind of mother-son gathering until a slim, pretty boy of about twelve wearing a bathing suit walked past me holding the hand of a woman in her fifties. I recognized him. He was Raymond, the youngster I had met before when he was on another assignment. The entire summer colony had been taken over by the members of the Youth Exchange.
Ellen, the owner of the place, lived in the best building which overlooked the lake. She was wearing a bikini and she had the figure to go with the outfit. She gave me the story of her life but I felt that it would be more informative to reveal the "group rate" gathering of Youth Exchange members.
Ellen had her boy with her. He was an attractive fourteen year old named Ernie. The name rang a bell. Ernie. I had already written about him when I first began my investigation. A widow named Donna who was Ellen's age had hired his services and had been very pleased with him. It was no doubt that he was a very popular young stud. The boy wore a male bikini which flattered his well cared for body. Although I knew that he was an experienced prostitute he was still young enough to appear boyish and innocent. Ellen slipped her hand around the lad's waist and hugged him. "Isn't he a living doll?" she asked. "He's had just about every dame around here, haven't you, sweetheart?"
The boy smiled slightly. "Just about. I see some ladies out there I've never met. Take that one in the print dress."
He pointed out of a picture window to the fiftish woman with twelve year old stud. She was standing on the shore of the lake while the boy swam out towards a float. Ellen slapped the boy on his firm buttocks. "Go out and play, darling. I'll join you later."
Go out and play. The phrase had a maternal ring to it. I watched as more and more women gathered about the lake. Some had boys with them ranging in age from twelve to eighteen. These were the young studs I had written about, the child prostitutes of the Youth Exchange. By the descriptions other women had given me when I had interviewed them I could pick up some of the boys by name. There was a very good looking almost beautiful boy of eighteen with black curly hair and bright blue eyes who seemed to be slightly effeminate. This was the "switch-hitter," the bi-sexual another woman I had interviewed had loved.
"I bet his name is Dickie," I said to Ellen who was standing by my side.
"How did you know?" she asked in amazement.
I told her about the other interview.
"He is very conceited," she admitted. "I know. I had him last night when I sent my boy off to a friend of mine. Ernie is a lot more of a man than he is and a better lover. Dickie just likes to have women fellate him. That's a sure sign of a queer, you know. The only way they can get kicks from a woman is to have them do what men would do. I just hope he doesn't fool around with any of the boys. I think he's got his baby-blues on that other boy." She pointed to a muscular sixteen year old. "His name is Cliff."
Cliff. Another name from the not-too-distant past. When I had interviewed the women the the boys they talked about had appeared like fictional characters but now I was seeing them in the flesh and they suddenly became very real to me.
"I suppose, in time, all the women here will have all the boys?" I asked.
Ellen winked at me. "And don't you know it. When I first started out with the Exchange I only wanted nice, big studs in their late teens. I could never see what women found in little boys like Raymond. I found out here at the cottages. After I had finished with Dickie I exchanged him for the twelve year old. Now, by this time both kids were pretty pooped. That's the big disadvantage of being male. You can just take so many woman and then no more.
"When little Raymond came into my room he seemed so cute and tired that I just held him in my arms while he nursed on my nipples. The more I played with his penis the more entranced with it I became. How small and sweet it was! I just had to take it orally.
"I put my hands on the twelve year old boy's hips and placed my mouth against him. As I was fellating him I got the shock of my life when the kid begins to French me! I had had quite a few boys up to this point but none gave me as good a job as this twelve year old. He's too pooped out to have a climax but I don't mind. Just mouthing him is enough.
"There is a knock at the door and one of my friend's is standing there with a boy named Albert. He's about fifteen and nicely built. My friend says she heard I had a twelve year old and she wanted to swap him for her boy.
"I tell her that Raymond is about to fall asleep and to just let him nurse on her until he does and not to exchange him again tonight. She tells me that's what she planning to do because she was ready for sleep herself and wanted the smallest, cutest boy in place to cuddle up with.
"Albert, the fifteen year old, is anything but drained dry. As soon as he crawls into the sack with me he puts his body on top of mine. He is fully erected and raring to go. The fifteen year old stud thrusts into me and does it like a guy who has just gotten out of jail after spending ten years away from women. He has a climax that doesn't seem to end and we wet-kiss until he becomes limp.
"The boy gets me hungry for bigger and better studs and I wonder where the biggest and the best is at. Then I remember that a school teacher has him over at her place. When Albert is rested I take him by the hand and we walk through the moonlight to the teacher's place. I look inside and see this dame who is about my age in bed nude with a male. This male packs an eight-inch cannon and I want to be shot by it. I know she's working up to a juicy experience but, since I own the place, she can't exactly turn the exchange down. I knock on the door and tell her who I am. 'Ellen,' she pleads, 'I'm busy right now."
"'So I can see,' I answer.
"Suddenly she knows I can see her in action. She jumps out of the bed with her huge breasts shaking back and forth. Her nipples are so aroused that they stick up for about an inch. She puts on a house coat and opens the door. If you can see how busy I am why disturb me?" she complains.
"I tell her that I'm in the mood for a swap. Albert, I tell her, may be smaller than the one she has on her bed but he packs enough of a wallop to make the trip worthwhile. I can see she wants to get back to the eighteen year old stud but I have him come with me to my place. The night is chilly but this big boy doesn't put on any clothes. He struts across the road with me with his magnificent thing swinging in the breeze. I can see he's hung-up on the way he's hung.
"The boy towers over me and, after little Raymond, his flesh looks about the size of a bull in heat. I lie on the bed.
"He climbs on top of me and tells me he was just about to shoot when I had knocked at the door. 'Don't you know you can drive someone crazy by frustrating them like that?' he adds.
"'You're frustrating me right now, big boy."
"He thrusts into me with his huge hard thing. I feel like he's about to go through my body. He strokes well and very powerfully. Each time he comes all the way into me he lifts my body up a bit. Every time he moves I whisper, "Again ... again!" over and over again each time a little louder. After a couple of dozen strokes I'm sure my voice is ringing all the way across the lake. The big boy hits his peak and it's like a flood of molten lava.
"I just have to do him that other tasty way and I almost choke myself to death trying to get all of him. This eighteen year old stud holds my head in his hands and fills me until he has another flood of passion. I'm almost out of my mind by now.
"We keep up the sex until there is another knock at the door. I know that some over-heated broad had heard about the great stud I had and wanted to exchange. By this time I don't mind because I think I got the cream of his virile power.
"Since I'm in an informal mood I tell whoever it is to come in. This thirty-five year old housewife I know who has a husband more interested in poker than in sex comes in with a very pretty blond boy. He is dressed only in jockey shorts and a sweater. He and my big stud greet each other since they are old friends. My hard-up housewife pops her eyes out when she gets a gander at the equipment the eighteen year old carries. T heard you clear across the lake,' she says and had to see who you were with."
"'Now that you see I suppose you want to buy?' I ask.
"'Exchange?' says she.
"'Exchange,' says I.
"Miss Hard-up leaves with the eighteen year old who still refuses to put anything on. I look out the picture window and see his naked body disappear along the lake with the woman. I turn to Robert and he's taking off his sweater and jockey shorts. He may not pack the punch that big boy had but he's irresistable. This kid is even prettier than most girls his age.
"The thirteen year old blond boy seems tired and I ask him how many different women had he been with tonight. He tells me that I'm his fifth one. I tell him that he'll sleep with me because he needs the rest. So I put a 'Do Not Disturb' sign on my door, turn out the lights and cuddle under the blankets with the naked child. Robert is glad that I'm not going to make any demands on him. He needs his rest. He puts that yellow head of hair between my breasts and throws one leg over my hips. I can feel his limp penis resting against my body and I hold him close. Soon he's fast asleep and breathing hard.
"I'm just about to go to sleep myself when I hear a knock at the door. 'Can't you read?' I say.
"'It's me, Ernie,' the fourteen year old stud I had started out with answers. 'I want to sleep with you."
"I tell him to come in. He seems disappointed when he notices the thirteen year old boy in my arms. I ask him why isn't he with another woman? He answers that she and some other women have started a canasta game and they were keeping him awake. I guess that all the lads are drained by now and the women, still worked up have to get rid of their energies. I guess that's what makes males seem so precious. You all have just so much to give in one night. By now even that eighteen year old stud of studs must be weary.
"I tell my fourteen year old lover that there is room enough in the bed for the three of us. Ernie doesn't mind. He crawls in on the other side of me. He snuggles his sweet young face against mine and his well-loved penis falls against my other leg, limp and warm. I have two young boys in my arms and they are both sleeping the sleep of sexual exhaustion. I'm sure that a lot of people will say that this is a terrible thing but they'd have to be there with these two darling young boys who were contented to sleep with me, a woman who is fifteen years older than their combined ages. Who says that youth always must sleep with youth? Give me one good reason why young boys should not have sex with mature women?"
I could not answer her off-hand. In my strict objectivity I could only look out of the wide picture window and watch the young boys and the older women together. There seemed to be no friction and no hate between the two groups. The so-called generation gap had obviously been filled here.
A car pulled up outside. There were the sound of feet on the driveway and then a knock at the door. Ellen opened the door to bring in a woman of about fifty and a boy of about sixteen. The boy was Negro. The women kissed one another and talked rapidly. Then Ellen gazed at the handsome dark boy. "Well, and who are you?" she wanted to know.
"The name's Jody," he responded. "I just joined the Youth Exchange and they sent me here because they said you needed new boys."
Ellen patted him on the cheek. "You can say that again. Why don't you just put on your bathing trunks and have a swim? You must want to stretch your muscles after such a long trip."
Jody picked up his suitcase and walked behind a breakfast nook partition. He started to remove his clothes. Ellen and the woman chatted for awhile and then the fifty year old who had brought the boy from the airport bade him goodbye and walked down towards the lake.
The sixteen year old colored boy had no inhibitions about stripping himself naked in front of strangers. I was sure that his sexual experience had been considerable. After finding out just how much sex boys of twelve and thirteen could rack up I wouldn't be surprised by anything this sixteen year old would tell me.
Jody was down to his skin. He looked like an ebony statue standing there in the nude with his dark, satiny skin shining in the golden sunlight. His penis was erected and exceptionally long. Ellen walked over to the boy and curled her pale hand over this dark rod of flesh. She didn't speak. She didn't have to. The boy understood.
The forty-two year old white women quickly stripped off her bikini and stood next to the sixteen year old black boy. They embraced. The boy slipped his hands over the woman's small, shapely buttocks and spread them. As he did his body curved into her. I knew that sexual contact was being made. Still standing the lovers moved into one another with an easy, sensual tempo. As it had happened when I had seen another pair of lovers like this I had to watch. I stared at the white and black bodies entwining, grasping, searching and then finding Ellen, grunted softly and placed her lips against the boy's when they stopped moving. For a long moment they clung to one another completely oblivious to me and the fact that they were so much a-part in age and ethnic background. But, in the cottage of the summer colony, white and black, age and youth had met and mingled.
I managed to tear my eyes away. I quietly picked up my tape recorder and walked outside into the bright, beautiful day. As I walked towards my car I passed three women walking with three young boys. I could take them for mothers and sons but I knew that they were not.
As I started the car and drove down the road leading out of the summer colony Ellen's voice sounded in my mind. I recalled what she had said only moments ago. "Who says that youth always must sleep with youth? Give me one good reason why young boys should not have sex with mature women?"
At this writing I have not been able to come up with an answer.
Perhaps the reader can supply one.