Introduction
"At the start, the lights were so low that you had to be standing next to a person to see them. This is where we got rid of our clothes. They had it stacked so that we'd start straight. I was lined up with a cute redhead named Jill who had fantastic pear-shaped tits with freckles on them. Her husband was Alex, an assistant professor of something at a local college. Alex was with Celia, the hostess, a rangy blonde with a tan all over her body. Lauri was paired off with Rex, Celia's husband. Sure, I was ready to play the game with the broads-but I couldn't wait to get my hands on the husbands.
"Alex was sort of average, except that without his clothes he looked about eighteen. He was smallish, kind of soft, and incredibly pink. Even his cock was pink. And then there was Rex. Christ, he made me drool just to look at him. Rex was a health nut, a weight-lifter type. He looked just like one of those pictures of the guys who pose for male pinups-only without the G-string. But he wasn't muscle-bound and bulky, except in the crotch. He was sleek skinned and the muscles just seemed to ripple over him as he moved. With him in the same room, it was getting difficult for me to breathe. Before the lights were turned up somewhat, I practically ruined my eyes trying to see more of him.
"As I said, it began casually and heterosexually. I fucked Jill in a chair while she sat on my lap. For an extra kick, it was one of those massage chairs that vibrate. Not that I needed any extra stimulation. By that time, the party was well lit and I could glance across the living room and see beautiful inches of Rex's cock tunneling in and out of Lauri. I was afraid I was going to lose my whole load right then and wipe out the evening, but Jill seemed to have things under control. I think they had it set up so I'd be hotter than hell when we got around to the gay sex. To ease us along in that direction, the lesbian action started first.
"Lauri was as ready in her way as I was in mine. Celia took her down on the rug in the center of the living room and was joined there by Jill. They each worked on one of Lauri's tits for a while, then Celia broke off and went right down to the cunt with her tongue. Jill moved into a position over her head and lowered a very wet cunt into her face. It was quite a sight, all that cunt-lapping, my own Lauri both giving and receiving. As exciting as it was, though, I couldn't have cared less-except maybe to crawl over and pluck Jill's ass-hole which I could see winking above Lauri's tongue. I even forgot about that in the next couple of minutes.
"While we were watching the girls, Rex had made a round of drinks and brought them over to where I was sitting on a chair. He sat on the arm, his hard thigh pressed against my shoulder. Alex came for his drink and sat on the rug at the foot of the chair, his back leaning into my leg. It was all planned, all very smoothly done. They had made the first physical male contact, and they were waiting to see if I would shrink away from it. And I was worried that they might take my sexual trembling as a sign of rejection.
"We sipped as we watched the girls, who were winding their way into a cunt-licking fury. Then Alex turned around and looked at me, having to stare up between my legs to do so. With my aching cock hobbling before his eyes, he said something about the excitement, something about the thrill that could be had from various pleasures, and some further blah-blah-blah about the beauty of open-mindedness. I hardly heard him. I knew what he was leading up to. And I knew why he was on the floor. I wanted to reach out and grab his head and haul his mouth onto my cock, but it was like dealing with the only kid on the block who owned a baseball; it was his game, no matter how badly you wanted to play.
"Finally, he got around to it, fingers at first, casually fondling my testicles, then moving up the hard shaft. When I didn't object, he set down his drink and eased between my knees. His lips went over the burning head of my cock, and I had to hang on to keep from coming in his mouth. From that moment on, I was oblivious to the cunt-licking tangle on the floor. I sighed, leaned back, and let Alex suck me deeply. As my cock was drawn hotly and deep into his mouth, Rex shifted on the arm of the chair so that his beautiful big hard-on was exposed and only inches from my hand. I tried to reach out and touch that sweet meat with enough hesitation so that I wouldn't seem greedy-but when I had it in my hand, there was no letting go.
"I jerked and caressed him and bent the cock toward me. He got the message and stood up. By leaning to one side, I could suck him off as he posed beside the chair. I mean, it was a scene hard to believe. Three broads on the floor going at each other, and me a few feet away with a hot cock and a hot mouth working out simultaneously. It couldn't have been a wilder arrangement if I'd planned it myself.
"There wasn't any doubt that they had taken us through the tulips. They were my kind of people. Before the evening was over, I had fucked two ass-holes, Celia's and Alex's. And Rex had taken my ass and come off inside of me. I mean, it was a night to remember. I had everything in the way of sex I ever wanted ... . "
The preceding narrative is excerpted from one of the case histories presented in this study of sex swapping and analism. At the outset, the reader should be appraised of the odd complexities in the behavior we shall examine.
It would be too simplistic merely to state that the relatively modern, middle-class phenomenon of social sex swapping would naturally include isolated instances of all manner of sex acts, anal intercourse not excepted. That, of course, is a true statement. More pertinent to our own investigation, however, are questions such as: Does sex swapping lead to acceptance of analism where no acceptance was present beforehand? Do group sexual pressures encourage analistic experimentation? Or, does sex swapping merely serve as a vehicle in which individuals of analistic persuasion find a convenient outlet for their sublimated sexual desires?
Interestingly, the answer to each of the above questions can be a qualified yes.
To go beyond the apparent contradiction, we must first take a look at the current extent and popularity of sex swapping. Population movement, to the suburbs and to the urban enclaves, contributed. With the growth of suburbia to its present vast transient or semi-transient population, sex swapping or wife swapping-as it has been called in the past-has reached a new peak in the U.S.A. and Canada. Millions of men and women who, outwardly at least, lead normal married lives, are in fact actively engaged in a practice officially abhorred by society in general and condemned as well by implication and in varying degrees by some of the confused sex laws in the various states. These couples, for whatever reason-be it boredom, curiosity, imaginative daring, mental and/or physical abnormality, or just plain escapism-are turning up in clandestine groups of sex swappers.
Two years ago, calculated estimates from professional statisticians placed the number of adult Americans who have in the past or are currently engaged in sex swapping in groups at more than five million couples! Obviously, that figure will rise rather than decrease. These studies note as well that couples involved in sex swapping are in social and economic groups ranging from the highest to the lowest level of the society. Outwardly, these couples live routine and constructive lives. Inwardly, they are faced with the necessity of keeping an important part of their social lives-often, the most important part-secret from the general society in which they live and earn their livelihoods. This necessary secrecy can and does, of course, cloak more than just a mere acceptance of group sex.
It can also cloak desires for sexual activity not commonly found in most marriages.
Yet sex swappers can justify their activities. Although there are, as one might expect, a certain number of swappers who are nothing more than libertines, deviates, and even psychotics, most of the people involved in exchange of mates are intelligent, responsible people trying to find a new way of maintaining the ties of marriage while continuing to enjoy the pleasures of sex. This is their view, and they are entitled to it. However, the assertion that their way of life is conducive to mental health bears examination. Dr. Frank S. Caprio had this view of sex swapping: "Individuals who enter into such orgies attempt to ease their conscious or unconscious feelings of guilt by rationalization, stating that it is healthier to release one's sexual inhibitions rather than suppress them. Indulgence in pluralism exacts a price from its participants as it inevitably creates neurotic conflicts between the id and the superego, resulting in psychosomatic symptoms."
In The Sexual Offender and His Offenses, Dr. Benjamin Karpman reports on one swapper:
Here is a case of a man as shrewd and intelligent as you make them, who uses every bit of his intelligence in order to seduce people into his group, including psychology and hypnotism. He is married, and has two children, and his wife regards him as a devoted husband. Though in normal daily relations, he is a rather kind and considerate man, when it comes to his parties he is absolutely ruthless and heartless. He wouldn't hesitate to induce the participation of the daughter of a good friend of his if that suited his purposes. His parties usually run to about a half dozen people, in which all sorts of sexual activity, usually of the irregular type, are going in the presence of other people. He derives tremendous satisfaction in seeing one couple perform fellatio heterosexually, another couple engaging in the same thing homo-sexually. He is a pluralist who-likes to see himself in the sexual act while others are looking on. When finally arrested, he naively complained that he wasn't guilty of anything more than some unorthodox sexual behavior.
On the other hand, the doctors Kronhausen take a less hostile attitude. They mention the sincerity of the sex swappers' beliefs, although those beliefs run counter to the ethics of the rest of society. They state: "Their way of life does not seem to cause trouble for them, or for those who are not participants."
There is, then, little agreement among authorities themselves on the subject of sex swapping. There is even less agreement when referring to particular sexual activities, such as anal-ism within the broader scope of the swapping practice. In many sex-swapping situations, the individuals attempt to control or limit certain activity that they deem to be potentially harmful. But this is an extremely difficult task. If one accepts the statement of many swappers that they enter into group sex out of boredom, then it follows that eventually group sex of a controlled or limited nature will also become boring. The pressures toward more and more sensual variety will build. Common coital and oral sex will no longer fulfill the needs. And, as we shall see in our case histories, there is a continuous pressure for homosexual contacts. Except in the strictest of groups, analism is inevitable. Beyond that activity loom some more bizarre acts. It is wise to ask, where does the quest for sexual variety end?
The answer to such a question can only be guessed at. It may be instructive, however, to examine some of the possibilities as to where the seeds of pursuing sexual variety begin. Though we have yet to run across a sex guide or marriage manual that recommends analism as a sexual variety between partners, we do know that for many, many years it was used in extreme cases, usually in hasty situations, as a unique way of preventing pregnancy. Particularly, there are many references to this sexual act being performed in incestuous situations where there was a fear of pregnancy, and in the latter stages of pregnancy where normal coitus is prohibited from a medical standpoint. From the standpoint of medical ethics, however, analism is not generally recommended either before or during pregnancy.
Another potent source which may lend the idea of analism to couples who had not considered it a potential sexual variety is that of classical and popular erotica. Worldwide pornography, in its literary sense, is replete with instances of analism. For example, pornography is used in Japan as an inexpensive form of sex education. Japanese "pillow books," so-called for their aphrodisiac effect, include illustrations of anal intercourse. It would be foolhardy to assume that young people using such books as guides would not at least attempt all of the illustrated variations. Similar pictorial sex books have not been widespread in this country; but with the recent removal of obscenity bans in Scandinavia, many illustrated magazines and books are reaching these shores. Even more recently, illustrated educational material on sex has emerged from domestic sources for the sophisticated adult market. Hence we find that both foreign and domestic publications show anal intercourse to some extent.
While it is true that a minority of Americans peruse so-called pornography of the pictorial type, a great many read popular, sexually oriented novels. Thus, national best sellers by famous American authors may just as easily be a source of inspiration to the prospective analistic experimenter as any other type of book. A pertinent example, perhaps, is Norman Mailer's best seller, An American Dream. The following excerpt should point up what we mean:
"...there was Ruta, Fraulein Ruta from Berlin, lying on top of the covers with her pajama pants down, a copy of a magazine in one hand and her other hand fingering, all five fingers fingering like a team of maggots in her open heat. She was off in that bower of the libido where she was queen, and those five fingers were five separate lords and ladies at work on her.
We did not say a word. Her face ... was on the edge of dividing into two women, that queen for certain of her fevers and a little girl trapped in a dirty act. I winked like the friendliest peasant neighbor-I recall how natural was this wink-and then I stripped my coat and started to take off my clothes ... . The maid set down the magazine and turned her free hand palm up toward me, her fingers long and thin with a hint of the fine curve in a double curved bow. I remember seeing that the curve of her fingers, her lips, and her long thin calves were a part of that sly bright fever she gave off, and in a new whiff of boldness as if to be bold was her metier, boldness had brought me to her, she lifted the other hand (those lords and ladies) and moved it across to me for a kiss to her fingers. Which I did, getting one full draft of a heated sex which was full of the flower, full of earth, and with suspicion of one sly mouse slipping through the garden, a bit of fish in its teeth. My bare foot came up from the carpet and I put my five toes where her hand had been, drawing up that instant out of her wet spicy wisdom all the arts and crafts of getting along in the world. She made the high nasal sound of a cat disturbed in its play-I had stolen some thing from her, and she was about to draw back, but there was a look in my face-I was ready to kill her easy as not, there was an agreeable balance in the thought that I was ready to kill anyone at this moment-and my look cracked the glitter in her eye. She shook her head and gave the prize to my five toes which moved in the wet with all the deliverance of snakes who have crossed a desert.
. . . But then ... a thin high constipation smell ... came needling its way out of her. She was hungry, like a lean rat she was hungry, and it could have spoiled my pleasure except that there was something intoxicating in the sheer narrow pitch of the smell, so strong, so stubborn, so private, it was a smell which could be mellowed only by the gift of fur and gems, she was money this girl, she cost money, she would make money, something as corrupt as a banquet plate of caviar laid on hundred-dollar bills would be required to enrich that odor all the way up to the smell of foie gras in Deborah's world and Deborah's friends. I had a desire suddenly to skip the sea and mine the earth, a pure prong of desire to bugger, there was canny hard-packed evil in that butt, that I knew. But she resisted, she spoke for the first time, 'Not there! Verboten!'.
I had, however, gotten an inch of the verboten. A ... detailed specification of a city rat, came out from her into me and deadened the head of my heat. I could go for a while now. And go I did. That other presence (which, I could remind you, leads to the creation) was lying open for me, and I barreled in on a stroke, expecting glory and the hot beat of jungle wings, but she was slack, her box spoke of cold gasses from the womb and a storehouse of disappointments. I quit her there and went back to where I had begun, the fierce pinched struggle to gain an inch and then a crucial quarter of an inch more, my hand was in her red dyed hair, pulling at a swatch with a twisting upward motion, and I could feel the pain in her scalp strain like a crowbar the length of her body and push up the trap, and I was in, that quarter-inch more was gained, the rest was easy. What a subtle smell came from her then, something back of the ambition, the narrow stubbornness, the monomaniacal determination to get along in the world, no, that was replaced by something sneaky, full of fear, but young, a child in soiled pants. 'You're a Nazi,' I said to her out of I knew not what.
'Jo,' she shook her head. 'No, no,' she went on. 'Ja, don't stop, ja.'
This plainly demonstrates that the "idea" of analism can be planted from a source available to most Americans. If they are sufficiently curious, experimentation can follow. In a sex-swapping situation, where experimentation toward sexual variety is manifest, the presence of analism is not inexplicable. It merely deserves to be examined and, possibly, understood.