Chapter 4
The Anal Homosexual
"Call it a fixation or compulsion, whatever you want, but I knew I had to have Lauri's ass. The feeling began building to a head just a few weeks after we were married. In the first place, being married was something I had strong doubts about. Maybe it was a test for me. It helped that Lauri loved me and was willing to go along with the kind of life I'd cut out for myself. And, as chicks go, I dug her, too. We made a good team. The only thing wrong was the sex. Yeah, I wanted to be a stud, a straight normal stud-Christ, I wanted it in the worst way ever-but I just couldn't get with it the way she wanted and as often as she wanted. I mean, I don't have anything against girls or cunts, but I just couldn't hack fucking a cunt night after night.
"To say that my head is messed up over my sexual identity is to put it mildly. It was that way when I married Lauri, it's that way now. But back then I hadn't thought it out very well. My guts literally turned to jelly anytime anyone mentioned the word homosexual. Or any of the other words: faggot, queer, fairy, queen, and so on. All I could think was, do they know? Is there something about me? Did the subject just pop up, or is somebody trying to get a rise out of me? Whenever that would happen, I'd try and prove myself as straight as an arrow.
"There had always been girls available-then it became just Lauri. As soon as I was able to get her alone, I'd try and fuck her brains out. But, like, according to the book. You know, position number one, the classic in the saddle shot, man above, woman below. What could be straighter than that? Even so, I always doubted the performance. I wondered if I was only kidding myself. Yeah, sure, Lauri seemed to love it-she'd go ape shit. I mean, she's a real screamer and grabber. And, as I said, we got married. Straight middle class shot, although we were a long way from moving to the suburbs.
"Then I got this thing about her ass. There it was where I could see it, touch it, feel it, kiss it-but I hadn't tried to fuck it. I thought, if I can only talk her into it, it wouldn't blow the lie that I'm living. She'll never have to know that by spreading the cheeks of her butt for me, she'll be keeping me from running out and making it with some guy. I couldn't tell her that. At the same time, I was worried shitless that she'd think I was a frustrated faggot just for asking. I didn't know, if she hit me with that, whether or not I could laugh it off. Still, I was desperate. My whole world was closing in on me. I liked living straight, even if it was a lie. I'd seen the so-called gay world, and believe me it's a bad trip. Out and out faggot society has to be about the saddest, loneliest, most desperate shot there is. I guess I was more afraid of that than living a lie.
"So I kind of sneaked up on Lauri's ass. I didn't get much of a kick out of eating cunt, but I always did a little licking just for her benefit. She seemed to expect it. And she always reciprocated with a good round of cock sucking, which I really did dig. Anyway, it wasn't much effort to let my tongue go a little further. I'd let it slip to her ass-hole and just slightly tickle her. I wanted to see if I'd get any reaction. The first time I teased her ass like that, she didn't say anything, but she didn't say no. The next night I got a little bolder, stayed there longer, and rimmed her. I took the tip of my tongue, forced it into the tight hole, and jabbed. "That did make a difference. She squirmed and moaned. I was satisfied that she not only had no objections but actually liked it. On the third try, I really went at it with a passion and she couldn't have had any doubts that it was something I was really hot after. For close to a week, I started getting her ready for my anal tongue job by using a finger in her ass-hole while I was eating her cunt. Most of the time, she was simultaneously sucking me off so our sessions got pretty hot and sweaty. Then, at the peak of our heat one night, I put the question to her. I told her where I wanted to fuck her.
"All the preparation had been worth it. She didn't hesitate in saying okay, just asked me not to hurt her. Hurt her? The very last thing I wanted to do was blow what I'd set up. I was as tender with her as I knew how. I kissed her and stroked her until she was aching for me to get on with it. Then I positioned her on her knees on the floor beside the bed with the upper part of her body leaning on the mattress. I had a jar of vaseline already planted in the bedside stand and was able to get it out and opened without leaving her. I played with her clit to keep her furnace stoked while I lubed us up. Then I didn't give her any time to hesitate or change her mind.
"There was a considerable difference between the size of that tiny brown hole and the circumference of my cock. But I, of all people, knew that eventually it would fit. I knew, too, from out of my past that the best way to pork it to her was to get inside the rubbery ring as quick as possible. If you want to make an analogy; you can think of it as pulling off a band aid. If you do it slow and easy, it pulls the flesh and hurts like hell. If you snap off the adhesive with the quick stroke, it stings for just an instant, then it's okay.
"So I snapped the head of my cock into her fast. The cry caught in her throat and she grabbed for the bed. I grabbed her hips so she wouldn't get away. Then she found her voice and gasped, 'No, don't! Christ, I thought you weren't going to...' Then she realized that the pain was all over. The full, strange, strained sensation that remained was an erotic ache, not a hurt. And goddam it, I mean, did it ever feel great at my end of the stick!
"Don't ever let anyone tell you that an ass-hole isn't the greatest route in the world. Man or woman, it makes no difference. Of course, maybe that's why I was able to so thoroughly enjoy Lauri's ass. Once I was inside, it could have belonged to either a man or woman. To be honest, I'll have to say that I was leaning toward the masculine. My cock may have been up my wife's ass-hole-but my mind was someplace else.
"I was thinking of a young man named Frank, a soft, thin young man with blonde hair that hung in golden curls over his sensitive, handsome face. But in my fantasy, I couldn't see his face. I could only see his taut, flat ass split by my bursting cock. Even the sexual grunting sounds that Lauri made sounded to me like
Frank urging me deeper and deeper into his ass.
"And so not to break the reverie, I didn't reach around Lauri's thighs and titillate her clitoris. You see, I would have expected to find a thick, hard cock to hold and jerk instead. Without touching any part of Lauri that would make me aware she was a girl, I could and did play the homosexual fantasy right from the beginning penetration to the moment when I shot my hot load up her sweet, tight ass-hole.
"All right, if I was copping out on reality, just let me make it clear that I treated Lauri as best I could in every other way. I didn't resent her for being a girl instead of a guy. Except for the fantasies I had when I was fucking her ass, she was a wife to me in every sense of the word. We were a team, and for that I liked her. I mean, she could have easily been an establishment chick, but she opted for my life-style instead.
"Being an artisan isn't an easy bag, and I'm never going to get rich at it. A lot of people put us down by calling us hippies. Yeah, well, maybe it's the straight squares who don't know where it's at. When I was breaking Lauri into the ass-fucking thing, I looked a little wilder than I do now, but a good part of it was protective coloration. My hair was long, really long, and the beard wasn't trimmed at all. I just let it all hang out. Being a jewelry maker, working in gold and silver like I do, it wasn't exactly bad business to look weird and original. People expect that nowadays from artists, artisans, and craftsmen. If someone comes to my little shop and commissions me to do a fine gold piece, I like to reinforce the idea that everything about it is original. It's good box office.
"At the bottom of it all, though, I really went bohemian in appearance so I wouldn't look anything like a faggot interior decorator. Even now, with the hair cut and the beard trimmed down, I feel that I'm a cut apart from those sweet boys, sweet boys who do interesting, interesting things and run little shops all over the city. But, hell, like the other mask, there's a reason for my being cleaned up like I am. It has to do with the swinging sex scene that I'm into very heavy. Before we get into that, though, I want to rap some about my homosexuality and set the record straight.
"I was going to be an artist, you know. Not just a gold and silver smithie. I was going to be a painter. After I found out I wasn't good enough to hack that, I was going to be a sculptor. After I found out I'd be nothing but a lousy sculptor, I found a niche for myself in design work. I knew I was artistic, and especially good at the small stuff, like jewelry design, things I could personally shape with my fingers. like, I'm damn good at what I do, no apologies there. Still, it was a helluva a let down when I was young and I realized I'd never make it as another Picasso or be able to work with grand, out-sized art. It tore me up inside and made me something of a loner. I suppose that's what started the homosexual thing.
"I was going to a fine arts academy in San Francisco, sort of a high school and art school combined. Because I lived across the bay in Oakland, I spent a lot of time on my own in San Francisco. My folks didn't seem to give a damn. You know, I was the exceptional gifted child who could do no wrong. Anyway, I was on the loose a lot, a sort of straight looking hippie a few years before the Haight-Ashbury thing. Now I don't know whether you know it or not, but San Francisco is crawling with faggots. A kid like me, pink cheeked, sixteen, a loner with few friends and hardly any experience with females-well, I was ripe for a gay pickup.
"The first guy was about thirty. He saw me sketching one day in Golden Gate Park. He seemed to be pretty knowledgeable about art, and we talked. Then he told me he collected the works of Bay Area artists and asked if Pd like to see his apartment. Yeah, I know, come on up and see my etchings. But it worked. And he did have the paintings. He was also pretty shrewd. He did nothing but flatter me on my 'obvious artistic sensitivity.' I lapped it up in spite of the fact that Pd figured out the guy was gay.
"I mean, he came on very sweet once we were inside his apartment. It was cocktail hour, too-you know, like it was the most natural thing in the world to start feeding a sixteen-year-old kid booze. I can't blame the sex on the liquor, though. I was high, but I knew what he was doing when he put his arm around me and talked about sex.
"He was very delicate. Fellatio, he called it. Did I like to have girls do it to me? Shit, I'd only fucked one girl in my life, let alone have one go down on me. Did I know there was really no difference between a male doing it or a girl? He would simply love to take care of such a nice young boy as me. Somewhere along the line I said, why not? I already had half a hard-on from talking about it. When he saw that, he couldn't keep his hands out of my crotch. A couple-of minutes later, we were both naked on his couch.
"He tried to kiss me on the mouth and use his tongue, but I wasn't ready for that. I had bought his line about it not making any difference whether he or a girl sucked my cock, but I hadn't bought anything else. He didn't try anything else, either, unless you include the tongue bath he gave my crotch, balls and cock before he actually put my tool in his mouth and sucked.
"I think what amazed me most was how great it felt, those wet lips squeezing and the tongue working like mad. It's possible I went through the kind of transference then that I was to go through years later with Lauri, thinking her ass was a man's ass. I do know that it didn't seem particularly evil to me. It was more the enjoyment of forbidden fruit than anything sick or filthy. And it didn't hurt his seduction scene any that I had already naively romanticized artists like myself as being individuals beyond the mere mortal sanctions of society. If what I was doing was immoral, it was the kind of immorality that an artist could laugh at.
"On a more earthly level, the guy could really suck a cock. Not that I had any basis for comparison; I just knew how wild his pumping mouth felt. In those days, I was jerking off a couple of times a week, and I can tell you I never experienced anything like the sensation I felt when I let my load explode in that fellow's mouth. And there was no comparison to the one fuck I'd had. It was like suddenly a neon sign went on that read: Hey, man, sex is where it's at! Since I didn't know much about any other kind, where it was at with me was with cocksucking.
"Naturally, this guy had me pegged as real cherry. He didn't try anything else that first night, nor did he try to get me to do anything. He merely invited me back, and I went. For three or four times, it was the same routine, but I was really beginning to dig it. I discovered, for instance, what things he did with his mouth and tongue that gave me the biggest thrill. I liked him all the way down on me, sucking on the whole cock, rather than just working the knob. But up at the knob, I liked the way he squeezed his lips just behind it. I liked the way he pushed his tongue hard on the underside of the shaft where the sensitive veins are. Mostly, I liked a lot of suction and slurping and licking.
"By this time, I was feeling him. Not his cock, but his body. We had graduated from the couch to his bed prior to his sucking me off, where we'd squeeze and hug each other. I still wouldn't allow the French kiss routine, but I dug our bodies pressed together so that our erections were squeezed between us and rubbing one another. I knew it was inevitable that he'd want me more into the act. He brought it up by asking me to jerk him off.
"I say he asked me; actually he suckered me into it. I was stretched out on my back with my legs spread, my head on a pillow so I could watch his action. He was crouched between my legs, giving me a really powerful sucking. I was so hot that I was bouncing my ass all over the bed. I thought I could feel my balls aching and swelling, and I knew I was damn close to a great come. Suddenly, he pulls his mouth off and leaves my cock just standing there, twitching. That's when he told me what he wanted. Hell, I was squirming because I wanted to shoot off so badly. I said yes just to get it on, and he moved around to the side where I could reach his cock.
"I don't know exactly what I thought when I touched his hard meat and manipulated it, trying to use the same finger stroking and pulling that he had used on me. I do know that I wasn't repulsed. It felt strange at first but not particularly unnatural. I guess that subconsciously I figured it was only fair. I knew how great it felt when I came, so I had to assume that he felt the same way getting his load off. But I just used my hand, not my mouth.
"He took it easy on my cock while I jerked.
His lips were slack and he was barely using suction. It didn't take a genius to figure out the game. The harder and faster I masturbated him, the closer he'd bring me to ejaculation. Again, fair enough. I went at him furiously, and in minutes he had me back at my peak. He surprised me by coming first. I felt his cock spasm under my fingers, and I was staring right at the end of it as the first spurt flew out, followed by gushing gobs.
"The sight of his eruption was my own trigger. I didn't last another five seconds. And he really went wild when he caught my load. By comparison, the other times had been very controlled. like yeah, he'd swallow the wad, suck it all up very nicely, and clean my whole cock with his mouth. But this time, he gobbled and gulped like it was the last drop of come in the world. He pumped, slurped, and sucked with such frenzy that I thought he'd make me piss in his mouth. By the time he was through, I was getting hard again. So it was obvious what turned him on. Now we sort of came to an unspoken pact-if I took care of him, he'd make sure that I got the headiest sex he could offer.
"At this point, my introduction to homosexuality took an odd twist. You see, my friend with the art collection wasn't the first male whose cock I sucked nor was his the one to bring me out into analism. But in a way he was responsible for it all. I mean, if I had stopped seeing the guy, I don't think anything more would have happened. As it was, I was spending a lot of evenings at his apartment after art school. My parents were raising hell about how late I was getting back to Oakland. Of course, I lied to them and told them I had a girl friend, but I was still forced to cool it for a couple of weeks. I told my gay friend that I'd set up a deal to spend the whole weekend with him.
"Remember, all I'd ever done was jerk him off. I don't know if I had any intention of going beyond that point. But my friend had a surprise waiting for me that weekend. He was taking me to a gay party. He wanted to show off his latest acquisition to some of his faggot acquaintances. I said okay because I was curious; it would be my first inside look at the homosexual scene.
"Christ, it turned out to be an exaggeration of everything I'd ever heard about it. Those guys camped and swished like it was the powder room of the Mark Hopkins. There were about forty males crowded into a small two-story townhouse. There were a few as young as I, and a few that must have been in their forties, the rest somewhere in between with the accent on youthfulness. I didn't know what the word trade' meant at the time, but I had a pretty good idea what a trick' was. It seems I was both. I didn't know whether to be insulted or complimented. Since everyone there either admired my young body and obvious innocence or eyed my friend with jealousy, it wasn't long before I relaxed. I did stay loose on the booze, though. I didn't want anything to impair the bizarre education I was getting.
"As the evening progressed, I noticed that the incidents of kissing, hugging and ass-grabbing were more frequent. I was afraid to ask, but I wondered if the thing would disintegrate into a full scale orgy. I don't know what the hell I would have done if that had happened. I'd heard of things like circle jerks and daisy chains, and I couldn't quite put myself into the picture. My worries were eased as my friend and I circulated. I overheard dates and other meetings being made. The party was winding down. It was shortly after I'd made that observation that I met Frank.
"I mentioned Frank earlier, but I have to emphasize again how he struck me. I mean, he was the most beautiful goddamn "boy' that you can imagine. He was like a slim, blonde Adonis. And he knew it-just like an attractive woman knows how she looks. Frank played it for all it was worth. When he came over to me, he used his eyes to hold me transfixed and he said all the right things. For the first time, my friend was on the jealous defensive. He tried to get me away from Frank, and he succeeded only by being rude. I could see that he was seething inside, and it gave me a kick to realize I was the cause of all this sexual emotion.
"Then my friend sank his own ship. He had been drinking steadily ever since we had arrived, but he hadn't appeared to be more than socially high. After the incident with Frank, though, he belted down drinks one after the other. They hit him like a ton of bricks. One minute he seemed okay, and in the next he was reeling drunkenly and trying to hug me to him, Then he unceremoniously fell into a chair and passed out. I made a move to wake him up, but there was a hand on my arm. It was Frank.
"Frank told me to let him sleep it off, because if I woke him too soon, he'd get sick and puke. I guess I mumbled that I had to wake him up because I was staying with him and there was no place else to go. Yeah, then came Frank's charming smile. I didn't have a worry in the world, he whispered to me as he took me away from the party.
"Thousands of times, I've tried to figure out what happened to me psychologically that night when Frank took me to his apartment. As soon as we were inside the door, he was holding me and kissing me. I didn't try to close my mouth or turn my head. Suddenly his tongue was probing between my lips, and I licked at it and offered mine in return. Our cocks were hard bulges between us. There weren't any preliminaries like I'd had with my other friend. No conversation, no drinks-rhell, he didn't even bother to turn on the lights.
"While we still pressed close to each other, he was tugging at my clothes. Then we were naked in a pile of garments, his hot hands on my cock. And soon I was reciprocating. His organ was slightly thicker and longer than mine, but he was older, too. Actually, he was twenty-four and looked eighteen or nineteen. I wasn't the one making the cock comparisons, though, for as he pulled on my hard meat with very talented fingers, he whispered how beautiful my prick was, how sweet it must taste, and how badly he wanted it in his mouth. I didn't have to answer him.
"Deftly, he pushed aside a coffee table and sprung a bed out of a convertible sofa. In a single heated move, we were on the bed, I on my back, my eyes closed, waiting for the warm, wet ring of his lips to encircle my cock-like that was the way it always happened with my other friend. But Frank didn't play the same game. Hell, he had no way of knowing how cherry I was. He just assumed I knew the score and went the whole route.
"Soon he was crouching over me and taking my cock into his mouth, but he wasn't between my legs, no way! When I opened my eyes, I looked straight up to see his furry balls and big rock-like cock only a few inches from my face. He had taken me for granted and swung immediately into the sixty-nine position. I was in a bit of a panic. I didn't know what to do. If he lowered his ass six inches, I'd have his basket in my face. I thought: Go on, jerk him off, he's waiting for you to do something!
"I reached up and circled my fingers around the base of the rigid stem. You could say that the next few seconds were the fateful ones. Why I did it, I don't know. I just know that instead of masturbating him, as had been my first intention, I pulled his cock slightly so that it stuck straight down, then lifted my head and took it in my mouth.
"You see, I still don't know if cocksuckers are made or born. I don't know what made me do it. I don't know if it was the proximity, because he expected me to, or if I really wanted to. All I know is that once I started, I didn't spit it out. I was amazed at how velvety smooth he was. I was surprised at the heat of the thing and pleased that there was no unpleasant taste. There was nothing more to it than sucking a thumb. And I made up my mind that if I was going to do it, I was going to do it right.
"I emulated as best I could all the motions of Frank's mouth. Being underneath limited the actions of my head, but I don't think I did too badly. In fact, it allowed him to fuck into my mouth to the depth that gave him the most pleasure. It was funny, too, that I became so preoccupied with sucking him competently that I lost track of what was happening to my own cock. In fact, I didn't pay attention to the whole picture until my balls started to boil.
"Instantly, I was aware that I was on the verge of coming. I was also instantly aware that he'd be coming, too. I was torn with indecision. I could tear my mouth away before his juices spurted into my throat and ruin all that had been good about it right there-or I could take his come and swallow it. Maybe I was more afraid of gagging and choking than of not wanting it. I don't know.
"Call it hot sexual perversity, but I kept on sucking. Throughout my own ejaculation, I sucked like a fish. He was only a moment behind me. The thick fluid that poured into my mouth tasted like strange, salty gruel-but I didn't get sick or spit it up. I mean, it wasn't that bad. It was like taking strange medicine. You don't exactly like it, but you know it's not going to kill you.
"I guess what I had done only convinced Frank all the more that I was on familiar ground with all the homosexual acts. Anyway, we were lying on the sofa bed, sensually touching each other's bodies and getting hard-ons all over again, when he told me that he didn't want to waste a bit of my erection. 'Fuck me in the ass,' he said. 'I'll get the cream.'
"I knew what he was saying, but it stunned me nonetheless. If I had considered cocksucking to be a normal sex act between two males, I naively thought ass-fucking to be decidedly abnormal. But you have to remember that Frank was lavish, almost adoring, in his praise of my body and my boyish beauty. Furthermore, he was treating me as an equal, not a dumb kid to be manipulated. And, of course, I was to be fucking his ass. What harm could that do? Maybe it was, as I had heard a kid say once, the next best thing to a cunt. So when he came back with the tube of creamy ointment, I decided to go ahead with it.
"First, he efficiently buttered my cock and his ass-hole, then he rolled over for me. As I knelt behind his up-thrust ass, I braced myself and went forward. I had no idea what to expect. I couldn't even remember what the single cunt I'd been in had felt like. I couldn't remember anything about the feel, the tightness, or whether I'd had trouble getting in. Anyway, I pushed my cock between Frank's buttocks and easily found his hole. Then, as I started to push in, he wiggled his ass a little to make it fit better. Suddenly, surprisingly, I was inside. I must have paused at that point, not quite knowing what to do next, because he had to yell at me, 'Come on, sweetie, don't tease me like that ... fuck me!'
"Out of sight! To me, his ass-hole was a cunt. The pressure and the tightness were beautiful, and his hole was as slick as a greased pig. I whaled away without paying any attention to finesse. I didn't give a damn or know a thing about rhythm and pacing and titillating stroking, I just fucked like a mechanical rabbit, while at the same time he took my hand and placed it on his cock so I could jerk him off. Feeling my fingers wrapped around that growing hardness brought me back to the reality that it truly was a male ass-hole I was fucking. But it didn't diminish my enthusiasm or take away from the pleasure. I plowed that dark furrow furiously until I fell over in exhaustion after a climax much more powerful than I'd had at the first of the evening.
"Then it came my turn to offer up my ass. Frank just assumed that I'd be more than willing to give him the same pleasure. Hell, I can understand how he felt, but that was where I had to admit to less homosexual experience than he'd given me credit for. I didn't cop out on everything. You know, I just said that ass-fucking was something that had never happened before.
"He was understanding, but he was insistent. And all the time he kept feeling me up and telling me how great I was. Aside from what he was saying to me and what he was doing to my body, the one thing he really had going Jfor him was that I had no idea that anal intercourse might hurt. I mean, when I had fucked him, my cock had gone up his ass almost as easily as it had gone into his mouth. Yeah, it was tight and I had to push a little, but no one could have guessed it caused any strain. At the time, I didn't pause to consider that he'd had hard cocks up his ass for so long that to him it was as simple as putting one in his mouth.
"Anyway, he talked me into it. He went through the same lubricating scene, got me in the proper position, and kept urging me to relax! What he didn't know was that my ass-hole was as wound up as a rubber band. I suppose that's why I felt the pain like I did. Shit, man, when I caught that first inch of penetration, I screamed bloody murder! Frank had to stop right there and pacify me or I would have jumped up and run out. He kept telling me that it got better as it went along-that it would soon feel good. So I let him continue and managed to suffer through it.
"He was only partially right. After a while it felt better, but not good. You know something? It never has felt really great. I mean, sure, nowadays I can take a cock in my ass without any sweat. There's some pleasure involved, but it doesn't drive me out of my mind. I'll let it happen and sometimes, if necessary, I'll even encourage it. It can't compare with sucking a cock, though. And in no way is it comparable to having my cock up another man's ass.
"Of course, as I told you earlier, I'm a married man and supposedly straight. What happened when I was a kid, I tried to leave behind in San Francisco. Sure, I knew I was a homosexual. I mean, I went steady with Frank for almost a year-what else could I be? If that wasn't enough, I hustled my body in the gay scene there for another year after that, until I got out of art school. It boils down to this: I dug the sex; if things had been different, maybe I'd be a faggot right now, living and balling without any pretenses in some gay part of town.
"What I didn't like was the life of the homosexual. Most of them, with all their furtiveness and sneaking around, made it a helluva lot more dirty than it was or is. That got to me. I didn't want to be put down and stamped on by the straight world. I went to college at San Jose and, aside from an occasional weekend when I'd run up the Bay and pull up my skirts, I played it straight. In college, I discovered I could get along with broads, even attract them.
"That's why I came down to L.A. after I dropped out. That's why I pulled the Bohemian-hippie scene, including the camouflage, when I opened up my first goldsmith shop. I mean, a few years ago, it was inconceivable to think of a guy with a full bushy beard and wild hair down to his shoulders as being anything but straight. Weird maybe, crazy-but not a faggot.
"Yeah, but as Dylan says, "The times they are a-changing.' With a lot of these kids nowadays, the hair doesn't mean a thing. I've seen some queens around town that look like they've just stepped out of an acid rock album cover. Maybe that's all wrapped up in the way I appear now. There's no better protective coloration than being a married man. Yet even that doesn't work. My mind keeps getting bent out of shape by old scenes. Sometimes I think the smartest thing I could have done was leave my wife and come out in the open-get the queen out of the closet.
"But we don't all do the smartest things. I happen to like the kind of kooky, semi-straight life that I lead. That's why group sex-swapping was such a goddamn blessing to me. I think I would have fallen apart without it. In a way, it's like having the best of two possible worlds. How else can a guy suck a cock one minute, fuck somebody else's wife in the ass the next, get corn-holed for a nightcap, and wake up the next morning feeling perfectly normal?"
Following Kinsey's oft-quoted revelations of 1948 that a hitherto unsuspectedly large percentage of American males experienced at least one homosexual contact in their lives, popular sexologists rushed forth and used this statistic to explain all manner of disturbed patterns of sexual behavior ranging from impotency to psychopathic lust murder. In the following decade, the sexual-psychological investigators advanced the theory that all individuals are to a degree latent homosexuals. The die was cast. Active homosexuality was second in ubiquitousness only to latent homosexuality-which was universal. No one escaped. It was the psychiatric equivalent to original sin.
Recently, particularly in the last three years, a certain enlightenment has come about consistent with the wide dissemination of sexual material, analysis, and investigations. An educated public is a tough one upon which to pile further old sex myths. One of the myths we were glad to see dissolve was the one holding that practically all sexual aberrations could be traced to homosexuality, latent or active, the guilt therefore inducing, behind it all, the inevitable Oedipus or Electra complex, courtesy of Doctor Freud.
We have been made aware of the vast landscape of our sexual psyche. Abnormal sexual behavior rarely has a solitary root. Moreover, we have discovered that abnormal sexuality is highly subjective. In fact, much may depend upon one's acceptance or rejection of a socially imposed moral or traditional code. Such understanding enables us to avoid the pitfalls of the sexual behavior myths-specifically, in this discussion, the original sin of homosexuality. Almost.
The reservation is reserved for the subject of analism. Analism, especially in marriage, especially in a sex-swapping situation, is the one sexual practice that, when fostered by the male partner, is dumped unequivocally on the doorstep of homosexuality. There are many reasons for this, and some of them are good ones.
Dan B., the narrator of this case history, certainly has very little sexual mythology in his makeup. He must be classified as an overt and practicing homosexual, regardless of his marriage, regardless of what he calls his 'camouflage,' and regardless of the subterfuge (sex-swapping) he practices in a vain attempt to cloak his true sexual inclinations. His introduction of anal intercourse into his married life was done solely to provide himself with a homosexual fantasy relief in the course of physical contact with his wife. Neither his motives nor his actions are a psychological mystery.
On the other hand, a great many men who engage their female partners in anal intercourse are at once suspect and are often accused of homosexual tendencies even though they do not consciously or subconsciously fantasize the act in homosexual terms. These individuals are the ones who are often made to feel guilt and sexual shame for an act where no sexual guilt is warranted. And it may be some time before there is any common sense relief in sight.
It must follow that anal intercourse may be accepted as an occasional sexual change of pace for some couples. Note that we said "occasional" and "some couples." As with many sex practices, overindulgence or exclusivity signal perversity. A couple that morbidly concentrates on fellatio or cunnilingus for all or the greater part of their sexual satisfaction is similarly flirting with perversity. And, without going into reasons that have been enumerated elsewhere, anal intercourse is not for everyone, just as oral sex in its many forms is not for everyone. In this newer, relatively liberal sexual environment in which we live, it will still take time and additional sophistication for anal intercourse to reach the level of acceptance where it does not ipso facto label the male, if he has been the instigator, as a homosexual.
However, because individuals like Dan will always exist, so will the homosexual stigma of analism. There will always be homosexuals who try to make it in the straight world. Many will succeed; many, like Dan, will not. Dan, however, is one Who appears to have found an alternate life style. Contrary to his own statement, it is not "perfectly normal." Through group sex-swapping, Dan has attempted to legitimatize bisexuality. Few would argue that bisexual behavior is perverted, especially when engaged in by consenting adults. Still, it would stretch the point to call it perfectly normal. It is really more of a sexual expedient for men like
Dan-and also for married women with strong lesbian tendencies. To be charitable, bisexual swapping quite-likely serves as a valuable safety valve, enabling our subject to experience the homosexuality he craves while still maintaining the straight facade he desires.
Dan's introduction to bisexual swapping came shortly after his first experiment with group sex. His friends and acquaintances could be classified as sexual liberals-and so could his wife, Lauri. In fact, her "modernism" made it possible for her to indulge his earlier anal activities. She was a staunch believer in the separation of love and sex, and she soon met others who shared her feelings. At his first swinging party, Dan was terrified that he would give himself away. At the same time, he was rather surprised and pleased that Lauri was so sophisticated. At his second group sex affair, he was even more pleased when Lauri, at the height of the erotic excitement, openly engaged another girl in a lesbian act. Seeing her as a willing bisexual participant, Dan quickly explored other areas of the group sex scene and found to his excitement that there were groups who required bisexuality from both male and female members. He was quick to align himself, as a continuation of his case history demonstrates:
"It was what they called a mixer party. There were two other couples besides Lauri and me. Both of them were in the group and they were experienced. The idea was to bring us out and see how far we'd go, Well, hell, I was the one they were really worried about. In most sex clubs, the girls are usually AC-DC. That always livens up the scene. But the guys go out of their way to play it straight. So you can see where the guys in the group I'm talking about now would have been more worried about me than Lauri.
"I was worried, too, but not for the same reasons. What I was afraid of was not being able to stop myself from grabbing one of those big beautiful cocks and scaring everyone off. I mean, I couldn't come on too gay. You see, these guys have a tremendous thing about not being homosexuals. Yeah, that's right, they've all got speeches about how straight they are, about how they only go the gay route for variety and fulfillment'-which is one of their pet phrases. Believe me, I was ready to do some fulfilling.
"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 out 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 the 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 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 his 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 ivere 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. Afterwards, Lauri was a little confused about me swinging into the gay sex so easily and without any apparent reservations. But I didn't cop out and tell her about my homosexuality. I spouted the sexual freedom/no inhibitions line to her. It was easy enough, and besides, that's what she wanted to hear. It bolstered her own lesbianism.
"Since then, the two of us have made it steady and regular in the bisexual scene. like we accept what we are and what we're doing. Sometimes when the action gets too heavily homosexual, Lauri will have a doubt or two as to how long we can keep up this kind of swapping without hurting ourselves. But I never have any trouble getting her back to the next gay orgy. For myself, I'm going to make it last as long as I possibly can. I want to get all the goodies while I'm still young and have my looks. I don't think anything could be lousier than being an aging old nellie shopping around for young boys. When I reach that point, I'll hang up my basket and quit. At the rate I'm going, I'll have worn out my cock anyway-and a few tender ass-holes."
Most authorities agree that it is the exception rather than the rule that a "cure" of homosexuality can be effected with the various tools of psychotherapy. Analysts contend that one criteria is essential: a compelling desire to end homosexual contact. Dan, the subject of this case history, certainly does not have that desire.
Though he desperately wanted to live "straight," his desire was not so overwhelming that he either sought help or restrained himself from introducing analism with homosexual fantasies into his marriage. His participation in bisexual swapping is a predictable escalation of his homosexual drive. For him, it was more of a social than sexual adjustment.
Again we must point out that a mere liking of anal intercourse in a marital or sex-swapping situation is not necessarily indicative of a homosexual personality. The true homosexual like Dan, will progress far beyond occasional analism in both marriage and group sex.