Chapter 3
The Anal Reluctant
"Before I talk about my analism with a sex group, I have to tell you what it was like for me as a kid-what it was like and what it meant to me to be popular and have dates. You can't understand the rest of it without that. Not long ago I read a book on swapping, and the writer called it 'social sex.' You know, that's funny. I never thought of what I'm doing now, as a married woman, by any other name but swapping. Back when I was a teenager, though, I also called it social sex. And, God, was I social!
"There were only two ways to go in the town where I grew up: down or out. If you didn't lay down for a fuck, you were out of it. No dances, no parties, no fun, no kicks. Oh sure, there were some girls who had a third choice; they were the bookworms or girls who came from strict religious families. They could say no and accept the social isolation. There were a couple of other girls, too, who were so damn beautiful they could say no and still go out and have fun every night of the week. But not me. I was one of those girls who always got the line, 'Fuck or walk home.' I only walked home once. More times than I can remember, I fucked.
"You wouldn't know it by looking at me now, but when I was sixteen and seventeen, I wasn't a very attractive girl. Some kids take longer to blossom, and I was a late bloomer. The only thing I had going for me were my tits. They were as big as any girl's in the high school and bigger than most. The trouble was that the rest of me was big, too. I was fat-not in the ugly, obese sense, but just thick and round all over. I had an overdose of baby fat that wouldn't go away. I would see guys look at my tits and get that gleam in their eyes, then they would look down at my big hips, ass, thighs and ankles and you could just see the light go out.
"Poor Marilyn. That was me. If she'd only lose some weight, she could be cute. What a laugh! I tried everything; I drove my mother nuts with crazy diets. Nothing worked, except fucking. I didn't lose an ounce, of course, but I always somehow felt prettier and thinner after I had been fucked.
"My teenage sex life always seemed to involve embarrassments and humiliations. Losing my virginity was a humiliation. That happened before the high school sex got started. That was the summer I was fifteen. My parents had a lake cottage, and all kinds of friends and relatives used to crawl out of the woodwork every summer and visit us. The one person I'll hardly forget, however, was a third cousin named Fred. He was a couple of years older than I, and a mean, pimply-faced son-of-a-bitch that I never did like. He caught me in the boathouse one day while I was changing out of a bathing suit. He had watched me before, I found out, and he'd seen me play with myself.
"I don't mean that I masturbated or finger-fucked myself. I was curious about my body, that was all. And I was experiencing those odd sensations a young girl gets. Mostly I squeezed my tits and fondled them. After all, as I said, they were the only attractive thing I had going and they were already quite large. I might as well be honest-I also fooled around with my slit. A rough towel felt awfully good down there after I peeled off a wet bathing suit. Rubbing with the terry cloth would start a warm glow that spread from my cunt to deep up inside me.
"I knew this form of masturbating was decidedly sexual, but it was also something that nice girls didn't do. In fact, that's where cousin Fred had me over a barrel. He said he'd tell everyone and expose me if I didn't fuck for him. How was I to know the threat was hollow? I was too introverted and too unsure of myself not to believe him.
"I let him play with my tits and nipples and feel my body. At first it felt like slimy snakes crawling over me. Then his fingers were rubbing my cunt, and I found myself trying to fight the warm sensation he was causing. I was scared and whimpering, as I remember it, when he pulled down his pants and pushed me over on a pile of boat cushions. His prick was hard and looked horribly huge to me. At the same time, he seemed so adult about it all. He was carrying a rubber in his wallet, and when he put it on he explained what it was, what it was for, and that it was also lubricated so that he wouldn't hurt me.
"Partly in fear, partly in fascination, I didn't cry out. I watched him roll the rubber on his cock and resigned myself to the fact he was going to hurt me. He did hurt me, too-in the very beginning. He felt like a big pole inching up inside me. There was a sharp stab of pain that caused me to bite my lip to keep from yelling. But after that, I hardly felt him. I remembered all the secret, snickering discussions I'd had with my girlfriends-a couple of whom were testifying from personal experience-and the talk about the fantastic sensations that were supposed to occur. Yet, there he was drilling the whole of his hard prick into me and there were no fireworks at all, just an odd pressure further up than I had ever felt before.
"It wasn't for very long, though. I don't think cousin Fred made it for more than three or four minutes. So that was fucking, I thought. I hated the little bastard for forcing me into it, and I was terrified that my folks would find out. But I also knew that nothing very damaging had happened to me. I suffered his adolescent blackmail all that summer, avoiding him whenever I could. Un-like my girlfriends, I didn't talk about it under the heading of 'What did you do on vacation?' when I returned to high school that fall. No one knew I was no longer a virgin, but then no one cared either.
'The next humiliation was the one, I think, that got me really started on the sexual merry-go-round. I had a so-called girlfriend by the name of Pat who was known as a CT, a cock-teaser. Well, she could get away with it. She was cute, she had a curvy body, and she had a way of talking sexy, sometimes even dirty, that turned the boys on. I knew damn well why she used to haul me around with her. No competition. When the boys flocked around, she'd get all the attention. I was also an excuse so that she wouldn't get into any tight sexual spots. With me along, two guys would fight over her and she could do all the cock teasing she wanted, knowing that she wouldn't have to be alone with one of them, that the other wasn't going to settle for me. Well, one night I changed the rules of the game.
"We were at a local hamburger hangout, and she was into her act with two senior guys who were out cruising. They were bugging her to go for a ride, and she was giving them the, 'Oh, I just couldn't leave Marilyn,' routine. Usually, that got her off the hook. This night, though, the guys didn't back down. They left the shop, saying they'd be right back. From where I was sitting, I could see (outside. While Pat went into her standard dialogue about how boys were only after her fair body and didn't give a damn about the sanctity of friendship, I could see the two guys flipping a coin outside.
"I didn't need to be precocious at sixteen to realize what the two guys were doing. I pulled my eyes away and felt the awful hurt and embarrassment. The boys were going to push the issue-and the loser of the coin toss would get me. I didn't let on to Pat what I'd seen. When the guys came back, the one named Bill rather formally asked us to go riding, then with a graciousness I appreciated, asked me to be with him. Right away Pat started fumbling for excuses. That's when I perversely put her on the spot. I exclaimed aloud that we would love to go for a ride, that we had nothing else to do at all. Then I proceeded to shoot down Pat's increasingly feeble arguments.
"We left with the boys. Bill, as I had suspected, was going to drive. Ronnie and Pat would be in the darkened back seat. Bill didn't know it then, and for all I knew he wasn't even considering it, but he was going to get fucked and fucked good. I was going to get even with Pat for all the condescending, patronizing, humiliating put-downs that she ever laid on me. I was going to let the boys know where the action was.
"Ostensibly, we headed toward a nearby small town to see what was happening-and there was the inevitable short cut. We parked by a mill pond known as a lovers' lane, and already from the back seat I could hear Pat giving out with the coy lines she always used when the going got tough. Bill lit a cigarette and offered me one. He was sitting stiffly behind the wheel. Aside from the glow from our smoking, it was pitch black. I learned about the line 'All cats are gray in the dark' years later, but it seemed to have its application then.
"Bill kept edging toward me and drawing me closer with what appeared to be mixed emotions. I think he wanted to save face by making some sort of play but he wasn't too eager. And yes, I was hurt, damn hurt. If I hadn't felt like such an unmitigated bitch, I would have burst into tears and run off. Or if I had been cooler and less sensitive, I would have suggested a walk around the pond and got us both off the hook. But I didn't; I knew it was time for a boldness that I had never felt before. I snuggled close to Bill, thinking of cousin Fred's cock. I remembered the size of it, the hardness, the red mushroom that was the first thing to push into me. I remembered mainly how little it actually had hurt. And how much better looking Bill was than cousin Fred.
"I twisted in the seat so that the hand attached to the arm over my shoulder couldn't help but fall on my tit. For a second, he almost pulled away, then he realized it was an offering. But I didn't want to settle for getting my tits felt up. Again, for saving face, he might have settled for just that, but I was determined to go a lot further. I slid my hand up his thigh and came to the cock bulge in his crotch. I squeezed the firmness with my fingertips and felt him grow beneath his pants. While I caressed him to full erection, he opened my sweater and tugged off my bra. If I had any second thoughts about what I was doing, I had just gone beyond the point of no return. I undid his belt and unzipped his pants. I had a terrible time getting his hard cock out of his jockey shorts, but I don't think he gauged my inexperience. He shoved down both pants and shorts so they were below his knees. The thick, hard cock I held in my hand was twitching straight upright.
"He was bigger than cousin Fred, but I wasn't frightened. It wasn't just that I was going to fuck for this guy Bill, but that I was going to outrage the whole lot of them. I had heard about cocksucking from other girls, although cousin Fred hadn't forced that act on me. Nevertheless, I considered it a really dirty thing to do-something a boy would remember.
"I let Bill pull down my slacks and panties and massage the lips of my cunt with his fingers. Still gripping and squeezing his cock, I lowered my head into his lap. My eyes were accustomed to the dark just enough to see the paleness of his hard-on. I took the head of it between my lips and licked at it with my tongue. I felt him tense, then relax, maybe in astonishment. I didn't exactly know what to do. I had heard the term 'cocksucking.' Then again I had heard the guys use the term 'blow job.' As dumb as it sounds to me today, that's what I did with my mouth: I blew, then I sucked, and whatever I lacked in expertise I made up for in enthusiasm.
"And, God, was I noisy! Earlier there had been rustling and wrestling noises from the back seat, but there was suddenly a dead stillness except for the sounds of my wet mouth on Bill's cock. Actually, that thrilled me more than what I was doing. I realized what it must have looked like from the back seat; the slurping and puffing, my head out of sight, the movement of the seat, and finally Bill throwing his head back and moaning. Soon he had a finger inside my cunt and was working away rapidly. That was an additional wet sound. I heard Pat protesting once again-she had lost her coyness and sounded terrified.
"Shortly, I forgot all about her. I asked Bill in un urgent whisper if he had a rubber. He did, and I continued to suck him while he got it out. Then I put it on for him. He thought that was a wildly lewd, sophisticated gesture for such a young girl. I didn't let on that I did it to hurry things up and that I only knew how from watching cousin Fred. Then I threw one bare leg on the back of the seat and gave Bill the spread he wanted. With my cunt wide open, it didn't matter to anyone how fat and unattractive I was. I grabbed his rubber-clad, rock-hard cock and guided him into me.
"Un-like the summer scenes with Fred when I was afraid to open my mouth for fear of being discovered, I now let myself respond to what I felt. When he shoved it in strongly and deep, I groaned. When he stroked, I urged him to fuck me harder. When he had me hot, I was gasping harshly. I was no longer the emotionless blob that I had been with my cousin. I threw my big ass into the action and thrust my cunt up to meet his plunges. I kicked up my heels and grabbed him around the ass as best I could in that confined space. The whole damn car was rocking and fucking!
"I had my first orgasm then, and I suppose I would have enjoyed it more if it hadn't been for my girlfriend Pat screaming at me. Oh, did she curse and vilify me! It was music to my ears. I had sabotaged her. I had shown her up for the real cock-teaser she was. Ronnie had gotten so hot listening to me and Bill that he nearly raped her. It had taken all her strength to fight him off, and her final escape had been going into hysterics over my betrayal.
"Well, I solved the problem for her. I offered to fuck Ronnie-and he took me up on it without hesitation. He kicked Pat out of the back seat, and I took her place. We fucked, noisily, all the way back from the mill pond.
"Between showing up Pat for what she was and balling two seniors back to back, you can imagine how fast my reputation spread around the school. Good old Marilyn-good for a fuck, good for a suck. God, was I popular! I had a date any night I wanted one. Often, there was more than one guy. Yes, I was a whore, I admit it. The town slut, some said, but it didn't make any difference to me. I remember the night I took on seven guys. It was like a long parade of cocks. They had me upside down, sideways, and backwards. With one cock in me, I would suck another. Looking back, it's a wonder I didn't drown that night. I didn't think there was that much come in the whole male population.
"To answer your question, no, there was no anal intercourse at that time. I don't think the boys I was sexually servicing had even considered it. For the most part, they were young and naive and, even if they were aware of ass-fucking from the pornography they used to giggle over, they seemed to get enough thrill and satisfaction out of getting laid or sucked off. Nor did I consider it, and I saw their pornography, too. It was simply not in our repertoire. Nevertheless, all of what I've just related about my teenage sex life had a lot to do with the analism that's now part of my adult sex life. You'll see what I mean.
"Prior to what would have been my senior year in the local high school, my parents put me in a private girls' school. Sure, my reputation had gotten back to them-as if they couldn't have guessed by all the different guys I went out with and the hours I kept. Mine was the kind of town where a middle class family did not take an embarrassment like me to a psychiatrist. They just wrung their hands and said, 'Oh, where did we go wrong?' then shuffled the embarrassment out of sight and out of mind.
"Anyway, what could a psychiatrist have told them? I already knew I was fat and unattractive and was using sex to compensate for it. And, yes, I felt guilty about it. Guilty or not, it was like a narcotic. I was hooked on sex. It was far better than the other choice-loneliness.
"So I was shipped off to a boarding school where there would be no temptations. That was a laugh! I landed smack in the middle of the biggest daisy chain of lesbianism you could ever imagine. From the teachers right on down to the freshman class. I tried it, but it didn't do a thing for me. I was a senior, you understand, a late arrival compared to girls who had been there two or three years. The older girls were mainly interested in seducing freshmen. The teachers had their pet, cute favorites. And remember, I was still a decidedly uncute fattie. So I guess you could say it was for lack of opportunity and choice that I didn't get into the lesbian thing in a big way.
"That year in school was profoundly more important to me in another sense. It was then that I suddenly started shaping up physically. Believe it or not, I grew up-not out. I had been about five three when I arrived and weighed nearly one hundred and fifty pounds. I sprouted up over three inches that year and the baby fat rolled off me. I don't know what did it. The lousy food, all the rah-rah sports and exercise, I guess. I certainly didn't diet like I had done so futilely before. It irrationally occurred to me that all my previous sexual activity had stunted my growth. Later I found out that growth and weight distribution patterns just happen to some people that way.
"Anyway, toward graduation time, I was quite a chick physically. My tits were magnificent with the rest of me trimmed down. My legs were long and slimmer, the fat ankles were gone, and my ass was compact and smooth, not dimpled and flabby. Along with my body, I was thrilled to realize that my face, without the round cheeks and double chins, was actually lovely and well structured. Wouldn't you know it, too, the lesbians who had all but shunned me during this physical transformation were suddenly panting after my new body. I told them to go fuck themselves-who needed them at this point?
"Who needed my home town, either? I was smart enough to realize that just being beautiful wouldn't erase my reputation. If anything, it would just cause the large number of guys I'd known sexually to hound me all the more. I could understand their point of view. To have the town whore suck their cocks was one thing, but how much sweeter it would be if she were a well-stacked doll. Even today I have nothing against those guys. There had been nothing romantic about my kind of promiscuity. Enough was enough, however. With my new looks, I could pick and choose, fuck or not, just like other attractive girls whom I had always envied.
"The summer immediately following my graduation, I went to Chicago and enrolled in business school. It was far enough away that my reputation wouldn't follow me. It was big enough that I could be the new me without any hangovers of guilt. Indiscriminate fucking and gang-banging was a thing of the past. I did the career-girl-starting-out-in-the-big-city routine. I had a couple of roommates, an apartment, and I dated selectively. Also I kept my knees crossed and my panties on-until I met Eric.
"Eric is only important in my story for one reason-and that reason only concerns the night I decided to let him fuck me. Eric and I weren't in love; we were just a cozy couple. When I decided the time was right, I let him think he was seducing me. He did the classic set-up: quiet dinner in his apartment, his roommate shuffled out for the evening, low music, candles, lots of drinks. And I responded on cue: drank a bit too much so he wouldn't take all night to get around to it, and played the foreplay game on the couch-in the course of which I let him undress me.
"He was panting like a stud puppy when he half carried me into his bedroom. He even asked the stupid question about whether I wanted the lights on or off. Hell, I didn't care if he lit fireworks. It had been a long time since I'd had a stiff cock inside me. My self-imposed celibacy had worn very thin. I had all I could do to keep from yelling at him, 'For Christ's sake, quit fooling around and fuck me!'
"Finally, he was naked and we were on the bed. He did all the right things with his hands and mouth, and I liked him for that. Maybe at that moment I even loved him a little for it. There had been very few preliminaries in my previous sex life. Rarely had I gotten my tits sucked and my nipples teased. Even more rare had been the kisses that trailed down across my stomach and over my thighs and ended with a delicious nibbling on my clitoris. Eric did it all, tongue and fingers.
"When he spread my legs and mounted me, his breath was heavy and ragged with anticipation. I sensed that he probably wouldn't last long before he came; which was alright, for once over the first hump, there would be other times when I could count on getting my own fulfillment. I was content to play the innocent victim of seduction. For that reason, I didn't fondle or caress his cock or help guide it in my cunt. I clung to his hips and ass as he reached between his legs, held his erection, and rubbed the warm head of it over the hot lips of my sex. I let him find the way. I can almost remember it going in, scraping a little against the hairs, with me moving ever so slightly so that the smooth bulb was tucked in the wetness of my cuntflesh. Then came the first inch. God, the heat I had wanted-for so long! Then his body coming down on mine as his cock grooved in deep and full!
"At that moment, Eric stiffened perceptibly. Was I imagining things, or did his cock really wilt slightly? Had he come already? I wondered incredulously. No, no it was all right; he was plunging and humping, holding me tight, fucking me with full, fast strokes. He had given me a turn there, but it was all right. Or so I thought.
"Afterwards, I sensed that something was wrong. What? I couldn't figure it out. He had lasted longer than I thought he would; his ejaculation had been potent enough; I'd had an immensely satisfying orgasm; and my body felt warm and fulfilled in its new role. But Eric was distant, and I felt that something had been lost rather than gained. He told me to nap, that he was going to the other room and have a drink, and I did fall asleep for I don't know how long.
"I woke up to a door opening and voices. It was Eric's roommate returning. I was going to get up, but something kept me still. Then I heard them clearly. The roommate spotted my bra and panties on the couch and commented, 'I guess I don't have to ask if you scored.' Eric mumbled something, then the roommate asked, with a kind of leer in his voice, Well, buddy, how was she? Did you get yourself a virgin?'
"I'll never forget what I heard next. Eric practically exploded, 'Virgin? Hell, she's got a cunt so big you could drive a truck into it and double park! I've fucked whores up on north Clark Street that were tighter than she is. God only knows how many cocks that girl's had in her, because I'm sure she has lost count ... or lost track of them while they were in there. Listen, Al, it's one thing not to hit bottom, but when you can't find the sides...! You'd never suspect from looking at her that she was so ... ah ... shall we say experienced? She must have got her experience by fucking the whole Congo army. And what the hell, Al, I'm no pigmy.'
"I can't tell you how utterly humiliated I felt when I heard that. I can't tell you how crushed, how devastated I was. The new looks, the new shape, the beauty I thought I'd found-it was all superficial. Underneath, it didn't mean a damn thing. I was the town whore in a new dress. I was still a slut, only now I was a big-cunted slut. Can you beat that for retribution? I might as well have had a scarlet letter burned in my flesh. Naturally, I never saw Eric again or even spoke to him. All I could think about was how goddamn unfair it was.
"It wasn't my fault that I had been a fat, ugly little kid who'd tried to fight unpopularity and loneliness. What was I supposed to do for the rest of my life? I was built, attractive, and I knew it. Should I just date guys and never let them touch me? And, more important, what would happen when I found a guy I really loved? A guy who wanted to marry me? I couldn't very well refuse him sex. But I stood the chance of his rejecting me like Eric had, because of the size of my cunt and what a big cunt represented.
"The whole scene and all the alternatives played hell with my mind. According to what I'd heard, I couldn't even compete with a Chicago streetwalker. Imagine that, unqualified to be a whore. Oh, I know a lot of what I was thinking was crazy. Yet at the time, I was going crazy with guilts, fears, and an awful lot of self-loathing. I quit dating and stayed out of circulation. Why give anyone the opportunity to get lost in my big, gaping cunt? And you see, that's how I began thinking of my cunt: a huge slack cavern that had been excavated out of the middle of me. It was a shameful relic of old sins.
"I went on for months like that. My roommates knew something traumatic had happened and, without prying too deeply, tried to get me to come out of my shell and date. Gradually, I did, although I couldn't have been much fun. I couldn't allow any involvement, any affection or emotion that might lead to a bedroom. I had to break off budding affairs with a couple of very nice guys because I couldn't bear their potential reproach if they determined through my big cunt that I wasn't the person I seemed to be.
"You have to realize, of course, that there was a double misery involved. You see, I had never stopped loving sex. I wanted it; my body ached for it. Even in those years when I'd fucked half the countryside, I'd always physically enjoyed sex. That has never diminished, even during the years I was so afraid of ridicule because of the dimensions of my cunt. So, somewhere along the line, I took to masturbating. It was strictly a clitoral thing. I wouldn't put anything up my cunt. I guess I fantasized that if I didn't fuck myself with a finger or other objects, somehow I'd shrink. Other girls prayed for gentle lovers, I prayed for atrophy.
"My frustrations grew worse. One night they reached a culmination with a fellow I'd been out with just once before. I'd had too much to drink, and let him get as far as baring my tits and sucking on them. It was maddening; it was driving me up the walls. Certainly I knew he wanted to go a lot further. I wanted it, too, but I wouldn't let it happen. In the heat of it, I told him I couldn't, I was having my period. When he accepted the lie, I felt sorry for him so I sucked his cock.
"Just like that, I made up my mind that sexy me wasn't going to be a sexual zero. While I blew him, I sneaked my hand inside my panties and got my own charge by massaging my clitoris. I even swallowed his juices to show him what a good sport I was. That night I realized I could indulge in sex without opening myself to ridicule and castigation.
"I started on a whole new trip. Naturally, I played the field loosely, never dating a guy more than two or three times. After all, I couldn't use the excuse of having my period for weeks in a row. Usually, I would put a guy off on the first date but keep him interested enough to come back for seconds. The second time around, we'd go all the way except for actual fucking. Gradually, I became more confident of myself. I had left business school and had a job in the statistical division of an insurance company.
"I played my game of going halfway with sex for about a year. There were always plenty of parties going on the usual scene with large numbers of single working guys and girls in a big town. Looking back, I can say that I was moderately happy despite my frustration. I received a lot more invitations and propositions than I accepted. One guy even wanted to marry me after I had done my thing and gone down on him. I might have taken him up on it if he hadn't been such a jerk. He started me thinking, though, how good it would feel to get back in the saddle again and fuck.
"I started wondering if I couldn't take a chance here and there. I thought I was strong enough to take a rejection or two. So, selectively, I went all the way with a couple of guys. I'll give them credit; they didn't blow their stacks as had my old acquaintance, Eric. They didn't make a big thing out of their disappointment in my cunt. No, they just never asked me for another date. That was a low blow, of course. When a guy latched onto an exceptionally good-looking girl who would fuck for him, usually he didn't drop her like a hot potato. On the other hand, I wasn't completely crushed like I had been the year before-I had enjoyed the sex, even if they hadn't. And since I'd discovered that all males weren't loud-mouthed pricks like Eric, I decided that for the sake of my sex life I could go on selectively fucking-at least until someone hurt me badly again.
"It was through this hit and miss screwing scheme that I met Chet, who is now my husband. It seems funny now, but I thought at the time he would be the one fellow I could never make it with. I mean, he was a cocksman, a real hustler with the ladies. His hobby was, and still is, sex. We met at a party where we were both loose, and he picked me up immediately. I hate to use the old line that I was 'swept off my feet,' but that's literally what happened. Flat on my back, legs spread, and not caring a damn what he thought of my big cunt, we sucked and fucked until nearly dawn. He was a nut about positions. I felt like a contortionist by the time it was over.
"God, that was a marvelous night! I had orgasms like I'd been dreaming about. He did everything to me except fuck me in the ass. Nevertheless, I never thought I'd see him again. It seemed too good to be true. When I awoke in his apartment, he was gone-but he'd left me a note telling me to use his shower, have coffee, go on home, and he would call me early in the evening.
"That evening it was sex heaven all over again. I ended up staying the whole weekend with him. And not a word about the size of my cunt-was I dreaming? Instead, he lavished me with praise about my beauty and my body. He" told me over and over again how wildly uninhibited and wonderful I was as a sex partner. You would have thought he'd found a virgin princess. Me, I drank it all in. But a fearful part of me waited for the ax to fall. It never did. We became a steady twosome. We weren't so much in love with each other as we were with sex.
"Then Chet became serious. He talked about marriage, but he had stipulations. He would not promise to be the faithful husband. He wanted me to be his wife, but I had to understand that he might seek out and indulge in sex elsewhere. And if I wanted to do the same, it was all right with him. Jealousy and recriminations wouldn't be allowed.
"It was an odd way to start a marriage, considering all the usual vows of fidelity, but I was so crazy about Chet that it didn't matter. His cock was the most magnificent thing in the world to me. Not that it was exceptionally large, either-it was just that he knew how to use it. And many times, especially in the beginning, I wanted to ask him what he really thought about my cunt. I never did, though. If there were any objections, Chet would have been the first to voice them.
"I understood soon enough one reason Chet wanted his sexual freedom. We worked for the same insurance company, but he was training to be a territory supervisor. Shortly after our marriage, he was sent from the Chicago home office to cover two Midwestern states. Though we made our home in Kansas City, Chet was away at branch offices two and three days out of every week. He took his sex whenever and wherever he could find it. When he returned home after a trip, he would tell me in juicy, exacting detail all that had happened.
"Frankly, the stories about these strange women excited the hell out of me. I couldn't control myself sexually on the nights of his homecomings. If for any reason, he failed to score on a trip, I was disappointed. As for myself, I didn't stray, although he encouraged it. Chet, I figured, was all I needed. Why gamble on having my old hang-ups about my cunt come back at me?
"Yet they did come back to me. Not because I found an occasional lover or two for company while Chet was away, but because Chet had discovered a sex-swapping group in Kansas City. We joined the group, and this is where anal intercourse came to be one of the biggest things in my sex life.
"It happened so casually, I was stunned. When Chet first told me about the sex group, about the orgies, and about the exciting, attractive people we would meet intimately, together, I was thrilled. Minutes later, thinking of my cunt, I could have choked on my enthusiasm. I blurted out to Chet my long-held fear. To my surprise, he merely shrugged, 'Yeah, you're a little bigger down there than most girls, but some guys like that. It gives them room to operate. Anyway, if somebody gives you a tough time about it, you can always tell them to put it in your ass. That ought to be guaranteed tight enough for them.'
"I was flabbergasted to hear him say it. I stammered back, 'But. . . but, I mean, you've never done that before ... fuck me in the ass.'
"He replied easily, 'No, but I've tried it a couple of times with other girls. It's okay. I figured we'd get around to-it sooner or later. It's just that there was no big hurry and it's no big thing. For the time being, what we do now is plenty satisfying for me.'
"That's what I mean about casual. He hadn't really given it any thought. Well, I started thinking about it-plenty! I knew how badly he wanted to be involved in the sex group, as did I, and I didn't want anything to spoil it for us. I could see the virtue of having a sexual alternative to offer anybody who might be disappointed in my cunt. That night I asked Chet to break me in. I urged him to fuck my ass.
"I wouldn't say that I was exactly like the sacrificial lamb. I wanted it badly enough that I ignored the usual hesitations due to pain. Not that I thought it was going to kill me; I knew that anal intercourse was acceptable to many people, some even grooving on it. But I thought that, in my case, it would be rather far-fetched to find it as stimulating as the other forms of sex I had practiced for so long. Nevertheless, I was hoping I would find it at least somewhat enjoyable. I really needed to be able to offer a choice, front or back.
"And thank God for Chet! He was so very kind and considerate. Occasionally during a very steamy sex session, he had found my anus with his tongue and licked and excited me there until he had me quivering with passion. That night, however, he made it a point to snuggle between my thighs, lift my legs high and wide, and anoint my ass-hole with tender kisses and probing licks. The flicking tip of his tongue rimmed me to a heat I had never known before in that spot.
"In minutes I was calling for his cock, but he was more cautious. He brought a jar of vaseline to the bed, took a glob on his finger, and massaged the hot, tight hole. Then he poked his finger up inside, adding dabs of vaseline and moving deeper and deeper. He twisted his finger and probed smoothly-one knuckle, then the next. My sphincter stopped fighting him. The muscles were hot and relaxed. Then it was time.
"Chet lubricated his beautiful cock and positioned me on my knees and elbows. Reaching underneath me, he teased my already engorged nipples. The head of his cock pushed between the crevice of my ass cheeks and hesitated there. 'You push,' he directed me. 'Push back as slow or as fast as you want. I'll hold my cock steady so it won't slip away.' I did as he said, straining backwards. It was so slippery there from all the vaseline that I could actually feel him aiming his erection into my ever-widening ass-hole.
"To be truthful, I expected more pain. Yet it was more of a straining sensation than a sharp hurt. I dug my elbows and hands into the mattress and continued to slowly envelop the hard shaft of flesh that was now quivering for containment. Then I felt him deep inside me. Or at least it seemed deep. I was grunting at the marvelous hugeness that filled me. By God, I thought, there was nothing loose and gaping about this scene! Suddenly, I didn't want to go slowly anymore. It was good! The awareness hit me like a jolt. Yes, dammit, it was so very good! 'Fuck it, darling!' I gasped to him. 'Oh shit, fuck me!'
"He responded with a thrilling drive that took my breath away. His strokes were smooth and sweet, and each stroke took him deeper and deeper into my bowels. Crazy, goddamn crazy, crazy things were happening to my entire body! I felt my cunt twitch in response to the ass-drilling, and I groped for my clit and squeezed it frantically. Then my darling had a full head of steam and was fucking me as deeply and as furiously as he had ever fucked my cunt. I screamed my joy: 'I'm coming! I'm coming in my ass!'
"When the ecstasy finally wore off, I knew without a doubt that I was a changed woman. The prospect of sex-swapping held no fears for me. Deep inside, there was even a perverse secret hope that future sex partners might well be disappointed in my large cunt and so turn me over to find their pleasure. What a long, long way I can come!
In the case of Marilyn D., the long road from adolescent sex to anal intercourse is marked by inescapable pathos. The ugly child syndrome is all too real for many people. Rare is the individual who does not know some degree of insecurity during their youth. It is not merely the unfortunate who suffer such early pains, i.e. the crippled, the disfigured, the impaired, and the grotesque. To a young person, a natural state of unattractiveness-braced teeth, acne, weight problems, thick corrective lenses, etc.-may mean a time of emotional and psychic upset. More than one personality has been hammered in this forge.
As with our subject, the period of unattractiveness is often temporary, yet it can and does lead to actions, though understandable, that influence future behavior. Overt sexual behavior (promiscuity) is one of many resultant actions. Without sounding like a spokesman for male chauvinism, it is a plain and demonstrable fact that the great majority of promiscuous teenage girls are fighting to overcome a sense of inferiority. Our present subject is almost a classical example. She referred to herself in her narrative as a "town whore." She was not wrong, and where is the town or neighborhood that does not have at least one?
Unfortunately, most girls whose childhood sexual experiences were similar to Marilyn's did not "bloom," as she put it, into exceptionally attractive women. And for the record, Marilyn can easily be considered beautiful. Such is reality. In the majority of cases, the so-called town whores marry early to ignorant or idealistic young men. For some, the marriages endure and are replete with procreation. For others, a sad circle of marital discord and divorce is embarked upon.
Contrary to popular opinion, the "fallen" teenager, the one with the "reputation," does not quickly or readily leap into the life of a professional prostitute. In our society, that status appears to be reserved for the poor, the uneducated, and the opportunistic. Marilyn's reflections upon her comparison to a prostitute were significant. It must be pointed out that, in spite of her precocious promiscuity, she never entertained the idea of prostitution. Her dream and goal was to bury the past and to be accepted into the mainstream of society, including its current sexual ethics. In today's vernacular, she did not cop out.
She did, however, rationalize her fear, which is all too human. Pertinent to this discussion is the direction her rationalization took. In the course of her entire indulgent sexual experience, she had never entertained nor allowed anal intercourse. Indeed, she has stated that her numerous sexual partners seemed not to entertain the idea either. And Marilyn had no fear of sex per se. Excluding, anal intercourse and blatant perversion, she had indulged in all forms of sexual activity, including lesbian experimentation, by the time she finally sought refuge in normality in a large city.
To Marilyn, analism was a definitive choice. How unique is Marilyn as an anal erotic? Given the background of her early promiscuity and the reasons for it, adding to that the tortured feelings about the size of her vagina and the potential condemnation she would receive for it, does it seem inevitable that she should accept analism as such a convenient alternative? In this instance, her alternative can be taken at face value, for in spite of her background, she does not suffer from any pronounced sexual aberration. She retains, and understandably so, a mild sexual neurosis, as most people do.
Marilyn is exceptional only in the sense that her physical disparity (the large vagina) was the result of early overt sexual behavior. In another case history in this volume, a male with an abnormally large penis was profoundly, psychosexually affected because of his physical disparity. In his case, however, he was born with a sexual organ of extra large dimension. Yet it resulted in a sexual aberration: strong anal sadism. Marilyn's willingness toward analism, however, is more Of an attempt to overcome her neurosis rather than to let it grow cancerously into perversion.
In her own words, she gives us some of the details of her adjustment:
"With Chet's loving help in preparing my ass-hole, I wasn't nearly as nervous as I might have been when we joined the group of swingers. The joining part of it, the initiation I guess you'd call it, was tailor made for me, too. Since all the couples in the group were prominent people, there was a good deal of caution when they brought in new members. Before we met the whole crowd and were allowed to participate in the larger swap parties, we had to be evaluated by two couples on succeeding weekends.
"The first husband I paired off with was named John, and he was easy. To get acquainted, my Chet and his wife Delia were to use separate bedrooms from John and me. It was a simple matter to sort of cutely confess to him that I had a special passion and that I hoped he would indulge me. When I told him that I loved to be fucked in the ass, he was thrilled. I was even honest with him, to a point, in my explanation. I told him that I had had a difficult pregnancy and stillbirth when I was younger and that my cunt had been inadvertently stretched. I didn't mention any of my fears about a man thinking I was too loose. I turned it around and told him that I was the one who couldn't feel as much cock as I used to. That's why I preferred it in the ass.
"We were naked and caressing each other while I was telling him all that, and far from dampening his spirits, it seemed to inflame him. He turned out to be a pretty good man with his tongue, too. He knew that no matter what the size of my cunt, a good mouth job on the clit was always effective. He steamed me up to the point where I was ready for anything. I moved around on the bed and under him so I could get my lips on his cock in a sixty-nine position; but he was impatient to get on with what I offered him in the beginning. And, damn, so was I.
"He rolled me over and crouched behind me, kneading the flesh of my ass, tickling and kissing my anus. He asked me if I needed a lubricant. No, I told him, spittle would do it. It was something Chet and I had worked out-after the first few times, just natural moisture was good enough. I suppose that in John's eyes it made my story all the more believable. There was no reason for him to know that I had only been ass-fucking for a week and a half in anticipation of this very meeting.
"As Chet had shown me, I reached back under my legs and fondled his balls. I squeezed the heavy testicles firmly but gently, then ran my fingernails lightly up the tender underside of his fine, hard cock. He dabbed spit into my puckered, waiting ass-hole, applying more to his circumcised shaft. Then I found out he had a bit of a quirk also. He wanted me to describe how it felt going in and what I was feeling as he shoved it home. It excited him to hear me talk dirty. So, as he poised the hardness against the small entrance and started shoving that sweet meat in ever so tightly, I did my best to accommodate him both anally and verbally.
"'Oh, fuck!' I hissed at him. 'It's so great, your big beautiful cock! My ass-hole's on fire ... coming apart! There, baby, you're in! I can feel you in my guts. Fuck it! Fuck my ass-hole with your beautiful hard cock!'
"I kept up the dialogue as he filled every inch of my steaming ass-hole. It was good, just as Chet had promised. I could hear John grunting behind me and I could feel his sweat on my own warm skin. He was in a fucking frenzy up my rectum. No man can fake that kind of rutting pleasure. I was pleasing him beyond my wildest dreams. And the pleasure I was receiving for myself seemed to have no end. I worked my clit, bringing down an almost immediate 'flashing orgasm. When he came, squirting a fantastic stream of molten come deep in me, I had to bite my tongue to keep from cursing my disappointment. But John surprised me. Un-like most men, he didn't wilt as soon as he'd shot his load. His come added a wild slickness to my ass-hole and he was able to finish with a furious flurry of more hard, marvelous fucking.
"The next step in our initiation met with the same success. Before we even joined with the rest of the group, the word was out: Marilyn truly was a great piece of ass. The funny thing was that the story of my loose cunt was totally accepted by everyone. Naturally, in the three years we've been swapping, I've been fucked in the cunt many times, too. None of the men have shown any great disappointment. I think it's because my story to John psychologically prepared them. Of course, the real focus is always on my ass. And it's through anal intercourse that I really come to reach my greatest joys and orgasms. In fact, our group is making a movie now for our own personal enjoyment. And guess who's the female star of the ass-fucking scenes?"
For some individuals like our subject, analism may be a sexual approach that offers positive psychic and physical satisfaction without becoming an unmanageable perversity.