Chapter 1
The Anal Hedonist
"Yes, of course I was embarrassed. After all the sex that I had participated in! Me, with a vaginal infection. Vaginitis, the doctor called it. All I know is that I had one sore, inflamed cunt. At first I had thought that some sonovabitch in our sex-swapping group had given me a dose of clap-gonorrhea or some other venereal disease. I milked my husband's prick right away to make sure it wasn't in the family. Phil was clean. I called the other wives and checked to see if they had picked up anything. Nothing there, either. That's when I became worried. You see, aside from being a great one for douching and using feminine hygiene sprays, there was another reason that it was weird that I, of all the girls in the group, would have problems with my cunt. To be blunt, I'm basically anally oriented. I like my fucking in the ass.
"Not knowing what to expect, I purposely made an appointment with a doctor in a suburb some distance from where I lived. It was a rather strange experience. Believe it or not, for all of my twenty-five years, I had never had a doctor examine my sexual parts. A nurse had me change into a dressing gown that tied in the back. Then she helped me onto an examining table where my feet were put in stirrups, holding my knees up and spreading my legs wide apart. That was a great little table, I tell you. The position was perfect for a fast fucking. That was the last thing on my mind at the time, though. Yet I couldn't help but be curious about the doctor's reaction to my complete lack of pubic hair. When he lifted the examination gown and pushed it over my waist, the cunt that stared up at him was as hairless as a billiard ball.
"All of the girls in the group shaved their cunts to a greater or lesser degree. Some, like me, used a depilatory and are really hairless. It makes me feel sexy, and it really seems to turn on most of the husbands. The doctor was no exception. He was acting very cool and professional, but he couldn't keep an eyebrow from going up when he viewed my crotch. It caused him to fumble a bit when he poked and probed at me with his rubber-gloved fingers. I closed my eyes and tried to imagine that I wasn't there because of a burning cunt. I tried to fantasize that the doctor was playing with my sex with loving fascination. Naturally, it didn't work-especially when he inserted a cold steel instrument to scrape off a skin specimen of the infected area. After that came an equally cold glass slide for a smear examination. He left me hung up on the stirrups for some time and finally came back with the word: vaginitis. It sounded horrible, but he assured me that it wasn't anything rare. In fact, it was relatively common. He asked me about my hygienic habits, and I assured him on that point. Then he asked me about Phil, his genital cleanliness. Well, I couldn't very well tell him that Phil had the sweetest, cleanest tasting cock I'd ever sucked and that I usually gave it a very good tongue lathering before he did-anything else with it. I simply said that my husband was scrupulously clean.
"That's when the doctor did the damndest thing. He told me that he was going to give me another examination, and that I wasn't to be upset by it. This time, instead of putting on rubber gloves, he put on a single rubber sheath over his index finger. He called it a finger stall, and it looks like a tiny prophylactic. I thought: so, he's going to diddle with me-maybe work on my clit to see if I get aroused. But no. The finger went between my legs, but not to my cunt. I twitched involuntarily when I felt his fingertip press against my ass-hole.
"Had he guessed my passion? It was inconceivable-yet there he was pushing into my anus. God, it felt beautiful! I could feel my rear love-muscle tightly gripping the darling digit. He obviously wasn't trying to arouse me with any sexy finger movement; nevertheless I was getting deliciously hot. I would have loved to suck his finger inside my ass and squeeze it. Immediately, I was fantasizing again. As his finger moved steadily up my ass-hole to his second knuckle and lingered, I could only think of how marvelous the doctor's hard cock would be in its place. Well, can you blame me for having such thoughts? He had already told me I had a vaginal infection. Now he was fingering my horny ass-hole. Surely he was one of those doctors you always hear stories about but never meet. If he couldn't fuck me straight because of my infection, he was going to try to rip off a little through the back door. What else could be his motive? I mean, whoever heard of examining somebody's ass when they obviously had a vaginal problem?
"It goes to-show how little I knew about it. Just as I was working myself up to giving his finger a playful tug, he withdrew it. He looked at me straight in the eye and asked: 'Mrs. R-, how often do you have anal intercourse?'
"He knew. Out of some sense of reflexive propriety, I protested. It's one thing to enjoy one's unique sexual pleasure, and to have it known and appreciated by your husband and intimate friends; it's quite another to have it spoken of with such surety by a perfect stranger. I was indignant. Me-anal intercourse? Ridiculous!
" 'Mrs. R-, it's not my intention to embarrass you. There's nothing inherently wrong or immoral about anal intercourse in my opinion, nor is it abnormal. The reason it is not a widely practiced sexual habit is because a great number of people find it uncomfortable. And, of course, others have taboos about the practice. Yet there are more women than you would most-likely imagine who practice and enjoy anal intercourse. I have no argument with them.'
"I remained stubborn. I felt certain that he was patronizing me. All right, even if his sliding his finger up my ass did tell him something about my particular sexual desires, I didn't have to admit it out loud. I had covered myself at this point and was sitting stiffly on the edge of the table. He wrote out a prescription for antibiotics and a medicated douche, then he said: 'I'll be frank with you whether you want to confide in me or not. From the reactions of your sphincter muscles during the rectal examination, I'm forced to professionally conclude that you frequently practice anal intercourse. I suspected as much from the nature of your vaginal infection. I won't burden you with the technical terms, but the bacteria that caused the infection are a variety found in fecal matter. A word to the wise should be sufficient. If you and your husband ever do consider engaging in anal intercourse, be absolutely sure his penis is completely clean and bacteria-free before moving on to vaginal coitus:' I thanked him coolly and walked straight out of there without saying another word. On the ride home, though, all I could think was: Oh my God, if he only knew the half of it!
"I remember perfectly the night I must have picked up the infection. As far as the medical part of the story goes, enough said about that except that I must have been lucky for a long, long time. What happened sexually that night was the rule rather than the exception. There were four of us. Mike and Ronda were the other couple, and if was at their house where the party took place. They're a sweet pair, handsome and beautiful, and just as uninhibited as we are when it comes to sex. Once a month, the whole gang of us-twelve couples in all-get together for a real blast of an orgy. But on the weekends in-between we usually pair off with a single couple. Mike and Ronda are our favorites.
"The night began on a wild note. Ronda grinned at me and said with relief, "Thank God you're here! I can't handle Mike. It must be the phase of the moon or something, but he's been like a stud all day. He's fucked me royally twice this afternoon, and I've had to fight him off ever since.'
"When I kissed Mike hello and hugged him as usual, I knew what she was talking about. He was already hard, and with Mike that makes quite an impression-eight solid inches worth. I let my hand drop and gave the bulge in his pants a hearty squeeze. 'Is that all for me?'
" 'As much as you can take,' he laughed. 'Honda's been playing hard to get. But to hell with her now. All I've been able to think about is that sweet ass of yours.'
"Which was exactly what I'd been thinking about. I didn't let go of him-neither of us had to say aloud that we didn't want to mess around with the preliminaries. I should explain that usually we all have a drink or two and get in the mood with some sexy talk-a sort of a casual warm-up to the heavy action that follows. But not all the time. That night was particularly ripe for a fast opening.
"My Phil and Ronda weren't quite as steamed up. They stayed upstairs to mix a drink while Mike and I went down to the basement den they call the "playpen.' It had been fixed up with soft rugs, a couple of sofas, and some large pillow-like hassocks-a very comfortable room for balling.
"Mike was all over me in seconds. He had my blouse and bra off and was nuzzling my nipples with his lips at the same time he was tugging down my slacks. Slowing him down was out of the question. I let myself fall over on a big pillow and allowed him to free me of the slacks, then I was naked before him, my legs spread. I flexed my thighs, beckoning to him with my smooth cunt, as he stripped out of his clothes.
"God, was he hard! I practically drooled at the sight of that fabulous erection. My ass was tingling, too. I could tell that he could sense it, by the way he grinned at me. He knelt on the floor and reached underneath me and caressed the cheeks of my ass. As he came closer, I lifted my legs and rested them on his shoulders. He knew the routine well enough once we were in that beautifully accommodating position. Next, he leaned over and took my mouth with his. Our lips clashed, devouring each other's tongues, while his hands were squeezing and pulling on my titties-tripping the nipples into a swollen sensation of warmth. Then his great cock was pressed tightly into the moist groove of my cunt. The fat head thumped on my clit, causing my loins to vibrate and my juices to flow.
"I kept playing the erotic tape-recorder of my mind: Let it go and get it wet, baby.' Get that big, beautiful tool nice and slippery!
"You could say I have my own quirks when it comes to being fucked in the ass. I've had men lube up their cocks with everything from spit to Shinola-vaseline, vaginal jelly, cold cream, even olive oil. The best yet, though, is Mother Nature's own: my cunt juices. Or someone else's. Oh, I know all the arguments about how it's not supposed to last, rubs right off, and all that. I can only say that it works for me. The best part is that there's no waste of time, no aching delay to grease up. When I want a cock where it will do the most good, it's there, and it's ready!
"With Mike, I arched my back and grabbed the root of his erection. Then I dipped it in the well, teasing his balls while he pushed all eight inches into me. Fantastic! The second best thing in the world! By the time he had stroked me a dozen times, I was squirming all over the pillow and pumping so much cunt juice it was trickling down the crevice of my ass. That did it! I couldn't wait another second.
"I was gasping when I told him to put that huge cock right where it belonged. And he didn't need a second invitation. Quickly he pulled his slick rod out of my cunt and moved back slightly, rocking on his knees, jiggling my buttocks, and aligning his thick plunger with the puckered, greedy hole. I moaned when I felt the wet, heavy knob push up against my ass-hole. Then came the pressure. I felt the tight ring being spread open a fraction of an inch with every breath he took. I didn't move; I tensed my body with electric ecstasy and savored each delicious twinge of the splitting sphincter.
"But once again, my compulsions got the better of me. As he was tantalizing me with the head of his cock, I shoved forward suddenly! The great knob popped beyond the barrier and a blast of dark air rushed out to sweep his balls. I can't adequately describe that moment. Glorious, I think, would be the one word to sum up the feeling that surged over me. And it happens nearly every time. Of course, the first penetration of any evening, just like I was enjoying with Mike at the moment, is the very, very best. I practically come apart at the seams. All of me is in motion. I yell, bite, thump, claw, scratch, kick and squirm. Most men are intuitive enough to realize that the only way to calm me down at that precise instant is to jam their cocks as fast and as far up my ass-hole as they possibly can. Mike is no stranger to the strategy. He did just that. I lay there quivering under him from head to toe and had my first gushing orgasm!
"It's always hard to explain my orgasms under those circumstances. I mean, I'm not really sure where they originate. Sometimes I think it's way up my ass, deep in my bowels. Other times I think it's the pressure in my ass that causes my cunt to climax. I do know that the intensity is a great deal more powerful than the orgasms I experience in a straight fuck or when my clit is being worked on by either a hand or mouth. Maybe that's why I can't pinpoint the location. Maybe the explosion I feel in my guts is so powerful that the location gets lost in the storm. Sometimes I've even fainted momentarily, and that is a fantastic sensation-waking up after a few seconds with my entire body on fire and feeling as though I were floating on air. In any event, I won't bother to argue precisely-as many of the girls I know do-on whether I have vaginal orgasms or rectal orgasms. That's a female mystery that doesn't mean much to me. All I'm really concerned about is the extreme pleasure it gives me.
"Mike was in me hugely. I could feel the crown of his cock plowing furrows in the tissue of my ass, so I kept humping upward to meet each new thrust. I could feel his heavy balls slapping into me--jolting my spine. My hands were busy, too. I pinched my nipples and clawed at my clit. I went through a series of orgasms that were less intense than the first but equally pleasurable. I knew that Mike was striving to come, too. That's when I began milking his cock with the pressure of my anus. I wouldn't call it the greatest trick in the world-in fact anyone can learn it-but without bragging I can say I've learned it better than most. It's the same kind of pressure one uses when taking a crap-a sort of controlled spasm. Control it well enough and you can grab a long cock, squeeze it, release, squeeze it again, all within a single withdrawal stroke. Maybe it can be done with a well-trained cunt, I wouldn't know. But I can tell you that there are very few men whose balls are bursting who can stand up to more than a minute of my anal massage. Mike couldn't. He moaned as I squeezed and, in a matter of moments, he was spurting huge gobs of hot come up my rectum.
"When we broke apart, we saw that Ronda and Phil were watching us. They were standing naked just inside the doorway. Phil had his arm around her and was fondling one of her very full tits. She has a hefty 37C size bust, just a little more than I have in that department. At the same time Phil squeezed her tit, she had a stranglehold on his cock. From the expressions on their faces, it was obvious that our show had put them in the mood-but good!
"Their own heated nakedness recharged my batteries, too. Mike was out of it for a few minutes, so I called to them to join me. I should say at this point that Ronda and I know each other's bodies as well as two females can-and, no, I'm not a lesbian. Neither is she. Even classifying myself as a bisexual would be going too far. Oh, for the sake of getting the point across to people who don't know me too well, I would say I'm AC-DC. Yet it's more involved than that. Basically, I'm a man's woman, for no cockless creature could ever please me sexually for very long.
"On the other hand, I reject the idea that sexual pleasure should be limited. I happen to enjoy having my cunt licked and my clitoris sucked. If a man can do it and please me, why not a woman? Naturally, I reciprocate-and see nothing wrong with it at all. Frankly, it's quite a thrill to drive another female up the wall and bring her off. Do I find the taste, the texture, or the scent unpleasant? That's like asking if I'm repugnant to my own self. I like to think that I have an infinite capacity for eroticism. If I enjoy the tongue of another woman lapping at my sex, yet deny her the same attention, then I'm, in effect, denying myself.
"There are limits, though. Sadomasochism, for instance, has no place in my sexual scheme of things. I'm the first to admit that there's an instant of pain that goes along with accepting anal intercourse, but I don't agree at all with the conclusions of some so-called sexual authorities that that makes me masochistic to some degree. What we are talking about is only a couple of moments of discomfort weighed against a long period of the sheerest ecstasy. I happen to know a couple of girls who feel an instant of vaginal pain when they are fucked straightaway, when the man's cock gets into them fully at the beginning, and nobody calls them masochistic. Among the girls in our group who take it in the ass--just to liven up a party or because there's no other hole available-there are a couple for whom it's a very uncomfortable experience during most of the time it's happening, but I don't call them masochists either. As for myself, I don't allow any of the other stuff one reads about: slapping, spanking, whipping, being tied up, and all that sort of thing. I know people who dig it, but it's not my bag. Getting back to lesbianism, you can see that I don't qualify. I do it because it's kicks, not something I couldn't live without.
"When Ronda and Phil joined me on the floor of the playpen, I knew how I was going to handle them both. I had a pretty good idea what they'd been doing before they came downstairs. Phil's cock was slightly shiny and damp, and Ronda had a tiny droplet of spittle at the corner of her mouth. Her cunt, on the other hand, was the epitome of dry heat. The thick lips, surrounded by the tiny fringe of blonde pussy hair, were swollen and blushing. There wasn't any visible sign of juice. Phil had obviously let her suck him off without reciprocating in any manner. Good! She was ripe for a little head. And it would also give me a chance to get my dear spouse's cock up that back alley he knew so well.
"Phil sat down beside me and teased my nipples. When I turned my back on him, he knew it wasn't a rejection. He spread his legs and, pulling me by the tits, snuggled my ass back into him. In this way he could lean back on the floor with his head on a pillow and pull me, outstretched and belly up, against his taut body. Ronda had lowered herself in front of us. That's when I raised myself so that I was above Phil's crotch and his beautiful hard-on jutted up between my legs. Ronda reached forward and stroked it. The erection was so tight in my own crotch that, when Ronda ran her fingers up and down the shaft, her knuckles pushed into the outer flesh of my cunt. She effectively caressed both of us at the same time. Slowly, while she was jerking with her hand, I spread my thighs further and further until my legs slipped over Phil's and were on the outside of his. I was in a fantastic split-open and ready for anything.
"All I had to do was arch my back off my husband's chest, raise my pelvis slightly, and his cock would have slid into my cunt at a wild, up-thrust angle. I could have made the move, but I waited for Ronda. She was sharp enough to know what I really wanted. Holding Phil's meat with one hand, she wiggled a finger underneath us where my buttocks pressed into his groin. Teasingly, she snaked it up to my ass-hole. She tweaked the button and pushed the fingertip in. Oh, yeah! My ass came up off Phil's belly. Ronda took Phil's cock and waved it like a fat dagger. She aimed it at my tight hole where her pinkie was doing a devilish dance and, when I came back down from my initial jolt, she snapped out her finger. In a single, glorious plunge, Phil's cockhead was halfway buried in my anus!
"I pushed down, grunting and shoving, while Ronda kept everything aligned with her talented hands. The cockhead burst into my rectum, and I clamped onto it, rutting more and more of the stem up my ass.
"I was in a frenzy atop Phil. His hands were around me, his fingers literally gnawing at my tits, his mouth nuzzling me hotly at the nape of my neck. That's when Ronda bent low, brought her face down to my cunt, and flicked at my clit with her tongue. As crazy as it sounds, I had to reach down and stop her. I couldn't explode in orgasm that quickly, I just couldn't. I lifted her mouth off my clit and found her tits. I pulled on the firm flesh and squeezed her already rigid nipples. I urged her upward and she crawled between our legs, over our outstretched bodies. Phil's cock was a good four inches into my ass-hole by this time, and I was humping for more as Ronda straddled us. But my hands didn't let loose of her abundant breasts. I opened my eyes, and her beautiful cherry red cunt, now gaping, was only inches from my hungry mouth.
"Here I'd like to say something about the beauty of that moment-and that particular position. You see, it's not just for me, it's for Phil too. When he's taking me in the ass that' way, with my back to his chest, his head is just below and behind mine. When another girl crawls over us and sits on my face, he gets a fantastic close-up view of my lips and tongue working over a juicy cunt. It drives him up a wall! He loves to watch it from there. Sometimes-and don't ask me how-we've even managed to get in weird alignments where he gets a taste also. But most of the time he just watches wildly, inspiring him to fuck my ass like there was no tomorrow. That's what happened when my tongue found Ronda's sweet cunt. Phil went practically out of control in my rectum-and you should have seen me!
"The second I sucked in a mouthful of pussy flesh, I twitched so hard that I almost lost contact with everything above and below. Thank God my floor partners had more composure. Phil really reamed me with a deep stroke, and Ronda grabbed my head and brought it up so that I was clamped on her clitoris. Wow! But in a moment, I planned to settle down to a pumping, licking, sucking rhythm. And that, friend, as they say in the television soap operas, is where the plot thickened.
"Mike, watching from the sidelines, had just been waiting for the right moment to join us. So when Ronda lovingly pressed her cunt onto my mouth, he saw his opportunity. He straddled Phil's body and mine, then I felt his balls on my belly, and soon they were higher between my tits. I was so caught up in my own heat that, for a minute, I didn't realize what he was trying to do. Then I knew what his perspective of the tangled pile of flesh must be. He inched up close to Ronda who was bent and crouched over my mouth, her own ass-hole in the open and exposed just inches from the love bud that my tongue was lavishing.
"I couldn't see, but I felt the nudge when Mike jammed his cock against Ronda's anus! I could feel him clench her hips and shove. I could hear, and my lips could actually feel, the lusty plunge that took him inside of her. She jolted upright! My mouth lost contact with her clitoris, and I could see for scant moments his hairy balls and, above them, that great thick rod pushing into her rear. The sight made my own ass-hole quake.
"I should mention, however, that Ronda isn't as anal as I am. Oh, she took it all right, and I'm sure she got quite a charge out of it. At least from her squealing and quivering, one would have thought so. But anal fucking isn't anything she enjoys for prolonged periods of time. A few strokes, a quick thrill, and for her that's it. To each his own, I say. But in a secretly perverse way, I was glad she didn't think it was all that great. I knew she would start farting and groaning as soon as Mike had forced his way in about three inches and, sure enough, she did. Then came my golden opportunity-greedy Gussie that I am. Amid all the loud, wet, smacking sounds, I managed to make myself heard. Just as Mike was being expelled from Ronda's ass, I yelled for him to take me in the cunt!
"Yes, I know, that's the stuff that sexy jokes are made of. But no female alive should knock it until she's tried it. Two gorgeous, strong, hard cocks, front and back, at the same time!
"Mike slid down and wedged himself into me. Believe me, it wasn't easy with Phil's cock already packed in tight and nearly to the hilt. But I'll give Mike credit, he didn't let a crowded ballroom stop him for long. Up and up it went! I no longer had any control over my anal or vaginal muscles. I was totally at the mercy of those two magnificent pricks! My crotch was distended in ecstasy! I could swear that Phil and Mike were touching each other inside me! I couldn't hold back-I came, and during that ecstasy, the others followed. It was a combination of the Fourth of July and the Johnstown Flood.
"But, you see, that's where it all went wrong. I'm referring now to my little medical problem, the vaginal infection. I mean, what female could insist upon absolute hygiene at a time like that? It goes without saying that Mike's cock wasn't enzyme clean. It had been up my ass, and up Ronda's too, before he got around to my cunt. I've gone over the whole night in my mind, and it was only during that particular wild, four-way set that I could have caught vaginitis. We did a lot of other marvelous things that evening, but periodically we washed off. No, it had to be that moment. It's ironic that that moment was also the supreme incident of joy for me during that entire session.
"Has it affected how I feel about anal intercourse? Am I afraid of future consequences? The answer to both questions is an emphatic no. It's a risk I'm simply going to have to accept. Call it, if you will, a kind of risk I accept concerning pregnancy. I'm on the pill now and that lessens the odds. But when I was younger, the men and boys I fucked used prophylactics, and I knew then they weren't entirely foolproof. So I accepted that risk, just like I'll accept this one now that I'm aware of it. There's no greater pleasure in the world to me than a cock up my ass-and I'll be damned if I'll give it up for any reason!"
The narrator of the above case history, Jean
R-, is an attractive twenty-seven-year-old brunette who could adequately be termed an anal hedonist. It is amply apparent from her words that for her a successful sexual encounter can only occur with at least one incident of anal intercourse. Also apparent is the fact that she has given the matter of her anal impulses considerable thought. She becomes a loquacious advocate for her own brand of sexualism. In this regard, Jean is somewhat unique. Most anal erotics (as we shall see in following chapters) are defensive in varying degrees about their anal activities. Jean, on the other hand, would have the reader believe that she possesses the true answer to female sexual fulfillment. It is a false assumption, of course. She is one of a distinct, albeit growing, minority. The fact that she presents a persuasive case for anal intercourse stems mainly from her own narcissism and sexual ego.
Many individuals are strong advocates of particular sexual activity. There are a number of reasons for this. An individual, for instance, may find satisfaction in only one coital position-one, perhaps, that insures physical dominance over the sex partner. Other individuals find a variety of sex acts so distasteful that they attribute undue enthusiasm to the one act they can accept. Partialism and fetishism also create such advocates. As for Jean, we mentioned her sexual ego. She is obviously sincere when she refers to her own physical pleasure during anal intercourse, but it is also probable that she is indulging in a game of one-upmanship.
Our subject is quite aware that a majority of women find anal intercourse taboo. There is, in the first place, the society taboo in which the anus is merely a source of dirt and filth; while the fact that the anus is also an erogenous zone is entirely ignored. The second taboo is that anal intercourse is always and unequivocally painful. Jean, as we have noted, went to some lengths to dispel any notion that she was masochistically inclined and attempted to thoroughly minimize the element of pain. It was also obvious that she completely ignored mention of the first taboo (dirt, filth, etc.), even though she knew that it was the bacteriological source of her vaginal infection. What we have, then, is a woman who consciously dispels or ignores the two dominant taboos concerning anal intercourse. At once this sets her aside from her sisters. In a profoundly personal way, she becomes something better than they, a more complete sexual creature. The real physical pleasure that she derives from anal intercourse is heightened by the sublime pleasure derived from the knowledge of her uniqueness.
It can be stated that the subject's sexual ego and her anal activity feed upon one another. But what is the Source of such a syndrome? The answer to that question lies in part in her willingness, her enthusiasm, for participating in organized sex swapping. We are all, to a degree, competitive animals, and this also holds true in the area of sex. In most individuals, there is pride in sexual performance as well as pride in the ability to stimulate and satisfy a sex partner. Normally, a married couple will reach a plateau of mutual sexual satisfaction, then when the magic dims, they will experiment and incorporate additional sex acts or procedures to fulfill their expectations. Cunnilingus, fellatio, and anal intercourse are but three devices that can serve this purpose. Yet within a marriage in which neither partner seeks extramarital activity, the question of mutual fulfillment and satisfaction is not of a competitive nature.
The single person who dates more than one member of the opposite sex is in a better position to judge his own and his partner's sexual performances. The sexually enlightened single female wants to be known as an exciting bed-mate. The single man almost universally strives to perform to the peak of his virility. Single men and women realize that they are in a position of competition, that they are being compared, perhaps subconsciously, with previous sex partners. This awareness of competition is nowhere more striking than in sex-swapping circles. The idea is intensely implanted in the vast majority of participants that they must "outdo" the other fellow or girl or suffer disfavor or even ridicule. And, in fact, this does happen to a great extent whether two couples are exchanging mates or a larger group of couples are engaged in a full-scale orgy.
It is not surprising to find individuals achieving sexual abandonment. It is. also quite common to find others who, having been imbued with the spirit of competition, will "try anything once." Yet, the most recent and most reliable data on the sex-swapping phenomenon indicates that anal intercourse, especially the acceptance of it by females, is far down the list of sexual preferences. (It has a far greater incidence among sex groups, however, than it does among the married population at large.) For the sake of illustration, we place a woman like Jean into this picture.
We previously stated that Jean was attractive-but she is not extraordinarily beautiful. like many a suburban wife of her age, she is stylish, well-groomed, and keeps her well-proportioned body in good trim. Without her clothes on, she would admittedly tempt most normal men. By the same token, though, without her clothes on she is no more nor less attractive in a startling way than the other wives of her sex-swapping group. Also like the others, she is physically adept, possibly talented, at a variety of sexual acts both heterosexual and homosexual. Only one thing separates Jean from the rest of the crowd: her loudly acclaimed enthusiasm for anal intercourse.
This is not to say that Jean first experienced anal intercourse in a sex swapping situation and then proceeded to champion it. Such is not the case; she discovered anal intercourse at a relatively early age. Shortly, in her own words, our subject will discuss this. The point that we make here is that, in sex-swapping, Jean found a situation perfect for the exploitation of her unusual sexual predilection. Given the taboos that we have discussed, a knowledgeable individual like Jean was quick to realize that she had a special, uncommon, sexual quest to offer the group.
Forearmed with this knowledge and feeling that she was unique in her anal desires, Jean broadcast and propagandized her quest. She knew from experience that most of the women in the group would be abhorrent, stymied, reluctant, or hesitant at the introduction of analism. She could only gauge those who would and those who wouldn't. Of those who would, she could merely gauge relative acceptance versus pleasure. The degree of their pleasure was low; this she knew from observation. Therefore, her own star shone in the particular sexual heaven which she habituated.
Another essential point in Jean's personal philosophy concerning anal intercourse is dependent upon the male consideration of the act. The taboos discussed earlier seem to be far less prevalent among males. A pertinent study shows that analingus (oral excitation of the sex partner's anus) is a frequent corollary of cunnilingus as well as being a foreplay gesture preceding anal intercourse. A desire for anal intercourse also manifests a belief in what we would call the "virgin syndrome." Here we refer to the male misconception of the alleged tightness versus looseness of the vagina: tight is virginity and innocence, loose is promiscuity and guilt. An inordinate number of men fallaciously bank their ideals against this illogical set of precepts.
Anatomically speaking, there is no correlation, of course, between genitalia and virility-male or female. The feminine provider of a capacious vagina may dreamily lust over an oversized penis, but rarely do the twain meet. And the female does not usually carry her dreams to distraction. On the contrary, the male ideal is to find a woman who is "tight." It goes without saying that the word is relative. Perhaps, as Freud suggested, there is a capacity for rape in everyone. When we think of rape, we do not think of the village whore. We think of her as gaping, loose, slack, a grossly used cavity into which we can vent our current frustrations. A "nice girl" or, if we're married, "our wife," rarely fits our fantasies nor does the slippery whore. What, then, for the virginal tightness that most men secretly dream about and desire? The anus is the answer.
Jean had considerable insight into these observations. She chose to exploit them to her own ends. It would be well at this point to examine the rudimentary inception of Jean's analism. Her narration continues:
"What we're really talking about happened in my junior year of high school. Before that, I'd been laid about four times and I thought it was the greatest thing in the world. But I didn't know anything about birth control. I had this stupid idea that the guy was supposed to take care of everything. I would let the guys, whom I thought I loved, fuck me. Okay, so that happens to a lot of girls in high school. I mean, I wasn't promiscuous; I wasn't the town whore or anything like that. But I did like fucking. "There was a feeling, in those days, that I couldn't equate with anything except dying and going to heaven. At the same time, though, I thought I knew all about letting a boy come inside of a girl, without him wearing prophylactics, or her wearing a diaphragm-which only a couple of very sophisticated girls in our group did. I had no real consciousness of the disaster that could evolve until one of my best friends got pregnant. They sent her away-bang!-until she ended up in a weird religious school that was like a prison in another part of the state. I shouldn't have to tell you that we all took a pretty close look at what we were doing ourselves.
"Motherhood? The funny thing was, I had no interest after that in the usual female joy in having a baby. I was only concerned with how to avoid the same predicament that my friend got sapped with-and I soon made up my mind just how that was going to happen.
"The night it first happened, I was out with a fellow named Tom. You know, I can't even think of his last name. Tom was a basketball player, a tall, big, good-looking kid who was very smooth. I'll say he was smooth!
"After the dance following the ball game, we drove a few miles out of town to a little lake where there was a hotel and a dance floor. I'll admit two things: I was a little bit terrified of Tom, but I was having the time of my life. To be perfectly candid, I was prepared to fuck him. After all the vodka drinks, the dancing, and laughing, I really did find myself in a room stretched out on a bed. Evidently, I had passed out, and he had taken me upstairs and pulled off my clothes. I awoke with a strange sensation and then discovered that he was sucking one of my tits. It was a marvelous feeling to awaken that way; my first thought was how warm and sexy I felt. I reached down, took hold of Tom's cock and began to fondle it. I remember it was hard and throbbing like it had a little heartbeat. It made me feel so warm and sexy that my cunt was already wet and he hadn't even touched me there. While I was enjoying the size and heat of his cock, he redoubled his efforts to suck as much as he could of my tit into his mouth. I could feel my nipple deep in his throat and I moaned and squirmed on the bed. Somewhere about that time was when panic struck me.
"I recall that Tom was fingering me. He began gently with one slow finger, then increased the tempo and doubled the number of fingers, and finally ended up plunging three fingers in and out. My cunt was literally on fire and I was almost to the point of begging him to fuck me. But he was doing some anticipating, too. He eased up on me and spread my legs. His hard cock was pushed against the inside of my thigh and, as he arched his back, I could feel the hard meat slide closer and closer toward my cunt. Just as he reached my pussy hair-yes, I had a full crop then-I suddenly remembered all the things that I had been saying to my self in relation to the girl who got pregnant. I realized, too, that he had no rubber on.-
"I grabbed Tom and asked him if he had a rubber. He didn't, but he promised he'd be careful and pull out before he came off. I knew better than to believe a promise like that. Not that I didn't believe he was sincere, but I just happened to know a bit about boys by this time. Once he started reaching a big climax, it would take a team of horses to drag him out of me. So I shook my head and kept saying no, fighting with him, protesting my fear. I think I even offered to suck him off. In any event, he wasn't having any of that. He was determined to get fucked, and was getting very uptight about it.
"Oh sure, I could have screamed and yelled rape and woke up the whole hotel, but that wasn't really the issue. I wasn't trying to play the part of the precious virgin. I wanted sex, I wanted-hell, I don't think I knew what I wanted but rather knew what I had to avoid. By that time, we were wrestling on the bed with him fully on top of me and pinning me down. His cock was twitching between my legs, pressed tightly into my crotch. I was doing my damndest to keep my thighs together. Then, as I recall, his cock slipped underneath and was pushing at the crevice of my ass. I mean, it wasn't intentional; he didn't try to poke me there on purpose. Yet, with his cock underneath there and wedged up against my cheeks, the idea must have hit us at the same time. We sort of stopped, me with my protests, him with his demands. We looked at each other, and he asked me if he could-meaning could he put it up my ass.
"I don't remember exactly how I answered, but it was something to the effect that it was all right if it didn't hurt. My language was a little more delicate in those days. Anyway, he promised that he wouldn't hurt me, that he'd stop the minute I told him to. I guess I thought it was a better bargain than trying to get him to pull out of my cunt before he came, so I said okay. I gave him the go-ahead to fuck me in the ass.
"God, how dumb I was then! I had no idea about things like lubrication. I guess I thought that my ass, when it got hot, would juice up just like a cunt. And my friend was no smarter than I. I rolled over on my stomach and lifted my ass, offering it up, so to speak, making the grand sacrifice for the sake of birth control. In retrospect, I realize that Tom's cock wasn't very large; his physical height was in no way related to the dimensions that pronged out from his crotch. But, oh, did he ever feel like a gargantuan monster as he shoved his prick up against my anus! I think I would have leaped off the bed and run out of the room at that point had I not been so terrified. Instead, I just crouched there, frozen. I clenched my eyes shut and gritted my teeth while he rammed and rammed at my tiny, virginal ass-opening. The flesh felt like it was being shredded. Thoughts of being ruptured forever, being split beyond repair, flashed through my mind as he wedged that torturous cock in a fraction of an inch at a time. Then he suddenly plunged through!
"I gasped and yelled and nearly collapsed. Then the strangest sensation overcame me. All that initial pain had been instantly replaced by a great feeling of warmth-but more than that, so much more. I had never dreamed that the flesh inside my ass would be so sensitive. I felt every fractional movement and every twitch of his cock. It was like being explored to the depth with a big, hot, fleshy tool. And every move that I made increased the tremendous gratification that I was receiving. I couldn't help playing with my clit-that, too, was a bonus.
"For the first time with sex, everything was right. Until then I had always thought I had orgasms, but they were like hiccups compared to the one I had when Tom finally came up my ass. I knew then, at that age, what I had missed up to that point and that all my girl friends had missed. As for Tom, he loved every second of it. Naturally, like most guys that young, he had to brag about the literal 'piece of ass' that he had ripped off yours truly.
"I found that I was suddenly very popular with the senior class. In a way, it turned me on to take guys away from their steady girl friends, guys who would do anything for me just to get something different. But let me set the record straight: I didn't treat Phil like that; I didn't wave my butt in front of him to offer him a change of pace. He didn't find out about the pleasures of my ass until the second day of our honeymoon. Then he got hooked pretty fast, too."
Among anal erotics, the hedonist, the truly sensuous lover of anal intercourse, is the exception rather than the rule. Nonetheless, she is a reality.