Chapter Two: The Sweat Shop
The naked young girl looked at her equally nude partner in admiration. He was a magnificently proportioned young man of thirty. But, his proportions were not restricted to merely his great chest, shoulders, and legs. He had an exciting seven-inch penis that jutted up promisingly from his hard, lean body. The girl felt her loins tingling as she relished the thought of what that great, thick weapon would do to her hot cavern.
She had other reasons for being hot. She was lying on her lovely, creamy back upon a stout wooden bench. The structure was part of a homemade sauna bath complete with hot steam pipes, running water, and the other requisites. The steam was slowly swirling around the small enclosure, lending the room an eerie, mystical quality that was perfect for the sexuality that was permeating the hot, humid atmosphere.
"Here comes Big Daddy, sugar." He smiled through the swirling haze as he moved closer. His huge organ was up like a beacon and the girl's thighs widened instinctively as he neared his target. She knew she was headed for a great thrill and she was ready. Oh, but she was ready!
She closed her eyes and slipped into the warm womb of the hot sauna bath to better savor the sensual bliss that was so near. Then, she felt his generous mouth tenderly enclosing one of her great, brown nipples. She was very proud of her breasts and a pleased smile played over her lips as his tongue began flicking and whipping the nipple into further hardness. He alternated tongue-lashing each breast tip in expert fashion. His lips also worked in expert style, heightening the sharp, extreme sensations in her soft breasts. She lost all reservations and moaned and groaned as she wrapped her arms tightly around his handsome head to pull him closer.
The combination of his exciting sucking and licking, plus the hot, steamy air, soon brought further manifestations of emotion. Her every pore was open and she was perspiring rivulets. His ardent mouth and lips began to rove. She was amazed at his enormous suction. He seemed to draw her entire breast up into his eager oral cavity. This was no mean feat inasmuch as the aroused girl had breasts larger than any cantaloupe that ever graced a produce shelf.
She also became aware of something else. He was avidly licking and swallowing all of her bodily moisture. Every drop of sweat she produced, was instantly absorbed by his ravenous mouth. She didn't mind. All she hoped was that he did not find her perspiration offensive. Like all good American girls, she knew that personal daintiness was the most important thing. Like many other good American girls, she did not know that many males like Gary H., were not too interested in "cleanliness." What they really craved, and got, was the sharp, musky taste of a woman's body juices. Gary and others of his ilk were let down when a girl tasted too "pure."
She felt the hot wetness of his mouth and tongue on the silken skin of her thighs and she gasped with erotic excitement as he moved closer and closer to the center of her greatest torment. She wanted him there so intensely she nearly cried out her lust. But she didn't. She was too far under his orality to do more than merely gasp and writhe as his tongue lashed at her dripping wet skin in long sweeping moves that lapped up the moisture as fast as she exuded it. Her mind blanked out to all but the demands of his lips, mouth, and tongue as her body accepted the infinite pleasures of the oral stimulation. Her womanly glands reacted with spasms that caused her to twitch convulsively as he slowly but certainly moved ever closer to her core.
He eventually reached her apex with his ravenous mouth and then he nearly drove the young woman to a frenzy as he tongued, sucked, kissed, and licked at her blazing cavern. She felt the terrific heat from his demanding lips on the silky folds of her vaginal opening. And more important, she felt the licking tongue as it flicked, darted, and lashed at the smooth area of her crotch. She gasped with erotic excitement as he shot his big tongue far up into the warm wet folds of her womanhood.
The girl had been taken by many males in her comparatively short span of maturity. But she had never received such a thrilling interlude of sexuality as she was undergoing at the moment. It was as though floodgates, holding back the electrifying sweetnesses in her loins, had long been closed and were now slowly opening and responding to a revealing electric eye that probed and prompted her most fertile regions to surrender.
Her hot wet body, writhed and twitched with tremendous passions and she found herself crying, sobbing, and moaning with animal like sounds under the handsome young male's savage tongue, lips, and teeth. It was his tongue that caused her to react the most wildly, however-the never tiring, lashing, licking, and caressing appendage that hungrily lapped up all the fiery liquids exuding from her overwrought young body.
"Oh, my God, my God," she gasped helplessly as his long, hot, wet tongue lashed harder at her seething womanflesh and his vicious weapon wedged further up inside the tight confines of her vagina. Here, the roving tongue found new centers to interest it and the girl's nude body gathered, poised, and tightened as the heady lusts of sex generated even greater force. Excruciating pressures and sensations built ever higher, swelled, and then expelled fiercely in massive, convulsive pulsations that racked her frame.
The swift, alleviating reactions of her womanhood threw her into yet another stratum of emotion. A state of blessed and frightening ecstasy. No other man had ever managed to explore her needs so completely, no man had ever exerted the exquisite attentions that assaulted her floodgates of passion and no man had ever drawn such vibrations of erotic bliss from her responsive organs.
The young girl thought his tongue was as far up into her cavern of desire as it could penetrate. But she was wrong. As her thighs spread wider apart under his tireless ministrations, he gained further entry. His entire face was thrust up into her huge, hairy opening. She squirmed as she felt the tongue tip probing all the way up into the very ending of her pussy. She found herself shivering and quaking with powerful sensual reactions that built higher and higher under the punishing lips and teeth that protected the sensitive tongue. She spent herself all over again in quick excited spasms of infinite delight long after she thought she was finished.
Then, abruptly, it stopped. For the moment. The girl blinked into the swirling mists that played over their undulating forms. As if from a great distance, she heard her partner's voice. He had withdrawn that wonderful tongue from her cavity to order:
"Okay, baby ... sit on my face. And fast!"
He positioned himself so that he was now flat on his back and he helped his partner to squat over his features. He arranged it so that she had her back to his feet. She did not know why he chose this particular position, but she didn't care. All she wanted was that wonderful long, hot, and wet tongue insinuating itself up into her blazing crotch. Slowly, to better savor the heady moment, she eased her dripping ravine of lust down onto his face. He quickly reached his strong arms up to seize her smooth silky hips and pull her down more swiftly. She felt his powerful fingers biting into her soft flesh and she responded by circling her hips as he thrust the great tongue up into her loins with fierce, savage lashings.
She began screaming harshly, soundlessly, the high keening noises further stimulating her into greater erotic effort. The screaming sound was entirely in her imagination. The pressures of sexuality again began to seethe and boil as she hammered up and down upon the handsome features of the naked man beneath her. Her nude form began to tighten up like a mighty steel coil as a gigantic climax began to well forth from her loins. It was a weird and moving sight. The lovely, naked young girl pounding her crotch down upon the features of the aroused male supine beneath her silky limbs, the steam swirling around them as the hot, humid atmosphere brought streams of fiery sweat streaming from their bodies. But what was even more intriguing was the unusual action of the nude Gary locked in sexuality under the demanding thighs of the girl. She, herself, was unaware of what was taking place behind her lovely back. Gary had stealthily eased his hand down to his crotch and had captured his huge erect penis. Once he had it in his clutch, he knew what to do. He masturbated himself in great driving strokes in perfect cadence with his darting tongue which was licking, whipping, and lashing inside the writhing young woman's vagina. As she suddenly sprawled in helpless abandon from the enormous climax breaking within her, it brought further reaction from Gary. He pounded harder at his great penis with his hand and built his own lust to its fullest. But just as he was about to explode, he caught her hand with his free arm and brought it to his penis so she could masturbate him to the ultimate. She complied. She would have done anything at that moment.
It was an awkward position for the girl. She was faced the wrong way for the proper masturbation process. But Gary had undergone similar experiences many times before. It was apparent from the skilled fashion in which he worked her arm backward without hurting her so that she could take his great organ in her hand and pump it freely, At no time during this intimacy did Gary lose his oral contact with the aroused young lady. His probing, seeking tongue lashed further and further up into her blazing inferno of womanhood even after she had brought him to throbbing release.
Gary H. consulted a psychologist for advice on his obsession with human perspiration and its erotic effects. The following interview was borrowed from the consulting psychologist's tape file and has been transcribed here to further illustrate his attitude toward oralism.
"-If you think I'm here for the dough, you got another guess coming. I do okay at the station. My salary is two bills a week, and I pick up a bit extra from some of the kids who work for me. They do it because they know it's the best way to make sure they get the better shifts and other little favors. So, dough doesn't mean a fucking thing as far as this deal here is concerned.
"I just want to be a good guy, that's all. And, too, I'd like to learn more about sex. Sex and the way it works for me. I figured if I spilled some of my secrets to you, you just might let me in on your end of it. I'm not one of those wise-asses who figure they know so fucking much, they can't ever learn more.
"I'd like to just ask a few questions. It won't deal with me and my love life too much. I'm a curious guy and I like to know the score. Like my old man used to tell me when I was a kid: "Boy, you won't learn nothing listening to yourself talk. But you sure can learn one hell of a lot by paying close heed to what others got to say."
"Anyway, I eat pussy. I have from the time I was a little kid. I used to get a lot of fun poked at me by my pals. They thought it was sissy stuff. They figured the only way to do it was to shove the old dong up the broad's snatch and hump till you shot your wad. Me, I had other ideas. Oh, sure, I banged broads with my cock, too. But I never felt like I was really coming through to them. I always sensed that they were just going along with taking the old walloper in their twats to keep me happy. I sensed way down deep inside me that the broads liked their cunts eaten best.
"From the beginning I found myself fascinated with the way the cunt smelled and tasted. Each broad smells a little different. Oh, sure, every cunt has a certain smell and taste to it, but then you find all those little variations. Take a young chick. They never clean out their pussies quite as thoroughly as an older broad. Now, lots of guys get turned off when they start eating cunt that's a little cheesy. Me, I like it. The cheesier the better. If I had my way, I think I'd let the chick never douche out the old hole. I bet by the end of a year, it'd be a lot like some imported stuff."
Gary is not alone in his mania for oral love. It has been a motivating force in the sexual life of man since time began. Animals have little or no qualms about orality. It is part and parcel of their sex behavior. Only man has displayed hesitancy in acknowledging the role this vital impulse plays in his existence. This reluctance to accept a continuing sexual action is most clearly manifested in the various terms used to designate the performance itself: "cock sucker" and "cunt lapper" are the two most general terms used to ridicule acts of fellatio and cunnilingus. Among those who are not quite so harsh about the impulse, more humorous forms of expression are found: "box lunch at the Y," "clean out the kitchen," "gobble the goop," "pearl diver," "yodel in the canyon," "sword swallower," and "pricknic ream" are but a few.
As long as the art has been practiced by man, it still suffers from basic fears in society today. Due to the mores of the present system, it is associated with guilt and shame. Few "polite" people dare to reveal their true feelings toward the buried instinct that seethes within most human beings. Instead, they seek to avoid the problem by downgrading the impulse.
Another simple way to ease the "stigma" of the oral sex function is to subtly place the blame for the entire matter by linking it to more convenient areas of the world. "French way," "French culture," "French tricks," and similar expressions are familiar to almost all of us. Somehow, by shifting the burden to Europe, it relieves us Americans from guilt feelings that might be aroused.
But no matter how we try to avoid the issue, oral love is tightly woven into the fabric of sexual relationships. It is an integral part of sexual concern. Every human being has certain feelings of inadequacy. It is impossible to escape such misgivings in nearly everything we engage in, and particularly so in the field of sexuality. With the constant awareness of sex today, it is not unusual for man to have inner doubts about himself as a lover, or for a woman to brood over whether or not she is a worthy sex partner.
The libido of an oral lover, either male or female, does not have to be hypersensitive or over-active. As a matter of fact, the sex drive may be well below par, nearly dormant in its demands. In this case the matter of oral love is nearly pathological, that is to say, a sexual-mental condition that may well have originated in childhood or even infancy, as in the case of Helen S. The actual complex problem cannot be definitely highlighted. To further confuse the facts, there are many medical minds that are not in complete agreement with one another. A limited few insist that preferred oral love borders on the pathological, while others maintain that orality arising from absolute necessity is more acceptable. Preference in this sense denotes desire, and desire in a human being means pleasure. Therefore, any human who wants oral love, and then enjoys it to the point of orgasm, cannot be considered other than normal. It is common sense to view it this way.
Gary H. had no ordinary qualms about orality. He used the street jargon for vagina and penis, but a mixture of respect and boasting was discernible in his voice whenever he spoke of his particular fetish, that of orality.
"When it comes to getting my share of pussy, I don't have to take a back seat to nobody. Like right now. I got me a doll that was all locked up, signed, sealed, and ready to be delivered to a real big man in this town. He's such a big shot, I don't even want to tell you his name. He's got more dough than Onassis and Jackie put together. He's gonna marry my special chick this July. But until he does, she's mine all the way. As a matter of fact, even after they tie the old knot, she's gonna belong to me. She keeps telling me it won't be that way, but even as she says it, she knows I'm in charge. No fifty-year-old geezer can take her from me if I don't want it that way. Dough or no dough. Really.
"She's just a fucking kid. She admits to twenty-three, but I know she's trying to make herself seem older so the age difference between them won't be too much. I've eaten enough gash to know age just by taste. She's barely past twenty-one at the most!
"The first time I saw Babs, she came in to get her car fixed. But make no mistake about it; this was not going to be the last time. I was all set in my own mind about that! She asked me how long it would take.
"It'll be at least an hour, Miss." I was playing my role as service-station manager to the hilt. "It's not just your battery that's run down. You need a new generator."
"Put one in," she said.
"We will, Miss. But it takes a little time. Now, we can recharge your old battery, but I'd advise against it. A few more days and it'll conk out on you again."
"How much will a new one cost?" She was budget-minded, which made me happy. Some of my best deals with the dollies came around when dough was involved.
"Our top battery retails at twenty-two ninety-five," I said. "But you can charge it if you'd rather. That's really up to you, Miss."
"Fine, fine." She was studying me pretty good, I was up to the test. I was wearing my best outfit. It was-the regular service-station uniform with the blue Levi's, the matching shirt with the insignia, and the neat bow tie. But as manager I went it a little better. I had my jeans cut specially to fit me like a glove. And I made sure the gals knew I was all man by slipping a nice hunk of Kotex into ray jockey shorts so that I had a good-sized bulge under my fly for the ladies to admire. You'd be surprised how important it is to the dollies to check out a guy around the crotch. I've had all the chances in the world to notice this. I don't care if it's just the high school babes who come by after classes for a Pepsi or some old broad who's got a dozen grandkids. Their eyes go to the old fly sooner or later. Cock and balls. It's in their blood. Any guy who doesn't know this is gonna miss out on lots of stuff that's just waiting to be had.
"Babs had on a tight blouse with no bra. Now, lots of chicks don't wear the tit-huggers anymore, but with Babs it was something else. She has these love-jugs the size of a melon. And she's got nipples on the end you could fuck a guy in the ass with. They stuck out so sharp through her blouse I thought the points were gonna cut right through. I almost drooled thinking how those big nipples would fit into my mouth.
"I just can't hang around here for an hour." Babs was frowning. But she still managed to let her eyes flick down to my crotch. I didn't need the Kotex to let her know what a big boy I was. I had that old feeling down there and my love stick was starting to take off.
"I appreciate how you feel about that, Miss," I was the polite service-station manager all the way. "Look ... I have to run into the main part of town to pick up a few special parts. While the boys are fixing your car up, why don't you let me drive you along? It's a lot more fun than just loafing around here!"
"I don't know-" She pretended to be hesitant. I knew better. She liked what she saw in me. She smelled gash-man by now. I don't mean I smell or anything. But a horny guy like me exudes a sort of sexy perfume that the cunts pick up right off. I didn't lose my advantage. I politely took her arm and steered her toward my pickup. She kind of balked a bit when she saw me holding the door of the truck for her.
"What's this?" She scowled at the old buggy like she'd never seen one before.
"It's a truck, Miss." I played dumb, then added with a wistful smile, "It's called a ... well, I hope you'll excuse the expression ... a pickup!"
"We both chuckled over my joke. But I noticed a little spot of color in her cheeks. She was getting pretty fucking aware of my horny self, you can bet!
"This isn't so bad at that," she nodded a short time later as I tooled the pickup toward town.
"Lots of things aren't so bad once you get over your prejudices," I said.
"Prejudices?" she asked. I knew she was studying me as I drove along. I could feel her eyes flicking clown to my crotch where the Kotex pad was getting awful crowded by my cock. I was building up a good head of steam. I didn't answer, and she pressed me for more info. "Prejudices like what, for instance?"
"We're all hung up," I said. "Some of us are hung up on political things. Others got a religious kick going. And then, lots of people have funny ideas on one of the most important things of all."
"What's that?" I let her prod a bit more.
"Sex," I said, and left it dangling.
"I think we're all getting better adjusted to it." She said it very softly.
"I don't!" I again cut my talk short.
"Now, I've got to admit one thing. I didn't really have anything definite in mind, as far as the way I was going to get to her-or into her, if you know what I mean. There wasn't any fucking strategy to my manner of going about as far as getting into a gal's panties went. I always played it by ear. You could practically call me an impromptu pussy-eater.
"I learned a long time ago that it was best not to set out with some big deal all outlined to a t. It don't work. The minute a guy starts out that way he gets all screwed up-instead of getting the girl screwed. You can't really figure broads that close until you've got your tongue-or whatever-in them. Things change during a session. One second everything looks like it's going according to Hoyle, the next minute a big switch comes along. Little things fuck up a sure-fire deal every time. So, me? I just set my eyes on a good-looking cunt and start the old ball rolling. Then, let come what may. And, boy, when they come, do they come!
"Now, of course, there are times when a ploy about sex like the one I used with Babs falls totally flat. Like the gal turns around and walks away-probably to the nearest ladies' room where she slides a couple of fingers up her cunt and rubs herself off thinking about what you might feel like inside her. Or she may slap you, or even tell you to go fuck yourself. With gals like that you can still get them eventually to spread their legs wide for you, but it will usually take much longer time-and probably more money. Which, really, makes it not worth the trouble.
"Babs was up tight on my little hint at sex. She started probing and wondering just what I meant by people being all up in knots over love. She pointed out that all the magazines and movies were showing sex just the way it was in real life.
"Not quite, Miss, not quite ... " I steered the old pickup through a cluster of cars at an intersection, and as I cut the wheel sharply, the move threw her against me. I could feel one of her titties against my arm and the old nipple was up nice and hard.
"I think you're just talking," she said as I headed down the road with no traffic to interfere for the moment. "Lots of people say things with no facts to back up their claims."
"I had her interest up good. I let her prod a bit more and then I started my spiel. It worked on gals in the past and I knew it would work with Babs, too. In no time at all, she was beginning to twitch and wiggle her little butt on the pickup seat.
"All guys got a line of bullshit they throw at a broad when they think they got her on the run. Mine was maybe a little different, I guess, but I'm pretty sure other guys used something along the same path.
"I like to get a chick hooked on the old sex talk. And make no mistake about it, they're all set for it when it comes. I think the fucking gash got cock on their minds from the time they get up to when they plunk the old ass into the sack at night! It's natural. Those great big tits jutting out on their frames ... that big, hot, hairy hole down between their thighs ... and that silky smooth ass ... How else could they feel, huh?
"So, I played it by ear. And my ear done told me to forget all about the parts. At least, auto parts! So I took her to my 'fun-and-games' room at my house, but I told her it was my home shop to get her to come in. She wondered why we were stopping there, and I told her I had to pick up a small generator in the room which had been added on to the rear of my house. I invited Babs in to see my shop, and, boy, was she surprised. It was a regular sex room-with sauna bath and all.
"I put a lot of thought into that floor plan. I figured it was a one-in-a-lifetime investment, so fuck the cost! I got me a book of those old scenes done back in Roman days when the fucking was easy. I got me a nice, broad-minded tile setter and told him to shoot the works. Boy, those old guys had the right idea. The pictures showed everything. Naked babes lying around with great big tits and snatches just waiting to be nibbled on. And while the gals were getting chewed out by the guys, they were taking care of things in their own way. They took the cocks in the mouth ... they sucked the guys' balls ... they clamped their rose-bud lips on the assholes ... armpits ... everywhere! And the guys were all eating pussy, too. And the ones who weren't eating puss were chewing at titties. And the asshole tonguers were hard at it, too. Everybody was chewing ... eating!
"Babs acted like she was offended by the display of sex-play on the tile floor. They all did ... at first. But none of them could keep their fucking eyes off the action the tiles showed.
"I played that tile part pretty smart. I had purposely selected scenes that were not too photographic. I'd chosen some good, old, time-worn representations that were fuzzy and ideal for mosaic reproduction. The subtle hinting at certain erotic actions were just perfect for getting the juices to start churning in the gals' snatches. Some of the cunts that I had up there had made some pretty fucking awkward moves trying to get a better look at the tiles. Like they'd purposely drop items on the floor--their purses, sunglasses, lipstick, one even dropped her panties, later though-so they could bend down to pick them up and thus get closer to the fascinating scenes I had laid out there, wishing, I bet, that they could be layed out there themselves right on the spot. And I used to frustrate the come out of them. I'd play the gallant gentleman but good. I'd pick up the fucking hairpin or curler, or purse-whatever the hell they dropped before they could get to it! I knew that the longer they were being built up, the better would the final payoff be between their legs ...
"Another thing I wanna say about my floor and all the gals that've been on it-in more ways than one-is that none of them had ever offended by the sight of the erotic pictures on it. None of them had ever turned around on their heels and left. Oh, some had pretended great shock, but it was a put-on. They stayed, spread, humped, and got eaten but good. But the floor wasn't the only thing about my layout ...
"The floor was this great setup of sixty-nine action and all. I had the walls of the place done in knotty pine. That's the greatest for steam rooms. It can breathe. Tile's good only for flooring. I know this is so because I checked it out with experts from Finland and those Scandinavian countries. Also, the tub was made of wood. You can get 'em tile or metal, but the real McCoy stuff is always wood. The closer to nature the better.
"I had the guy who fixed up the wood walls and the tub make me this great rubbing table. It was seven feet long and five feet wide-bigger than a regular bed. And I had it set up on real strong legs. I knew I was going to go through a lot of humping and tossing with the chicks up there on top. I didn't want to come down some hectic session like old fucking humpty-dumpty or nothing! No, sir. You could put five hundred pounds on top of my table and jump up and down and sideways till your ass was blue, but you wouldn't have to worry about coming down on your noggin onto that hard tile floor. I gave it a lot of thought. Every fucking little detail of that old sauna-room was really worked out. I even had the little extra touch for those that liked that route-the switches.
"You ever had a real Finnish sauna bath?" I put it to old Babs like that. She admitted she hadn't. She was sure having a hard time trying not to stare at the fun shown on my tile floor. I told her to slip behind the screen set up at one end for shy young ladies like herself and to undress. She started to argue, but her heart wasn't in it. She was ready, boy-believe me! I steered her right over to the screen and shoved her in back of it.
"I really don't have time for this," she called out from behind the screen. But even as she was saying it, I could hear her getting out of that blouse and that skintight pair of slacks. I turned on the steam pipes high so they'd be working by the time she eased her ass from back of the screen. And I also wiggled out of my clothes and wrapped a big towel around my crotch. But that didn't help. My old cock was up ready for flag day.
"I wish you could've seen the build on this doll. She wasn't big in the usual way. She wasn't exactly slim or nothing like that, but what was there was all gal! She had one of those cute, round bellies that just beg for a guy to run his tongue up her navel. Her tits were big, but not that moo-cow big. They were out there straight and proud, and even the towel couldn't hide those pointy nipples. And her hips filled out the covering around them just right, Man ... I got a real tongue-on just looking at her through that steam and all. I thought my old cock was gonna knife right through the towel I was wearing.
"Okay, sugar," I whispered as I stationed her under one of the shower heads. "Start peeling," She hesitated so I yanked the towel off her and turned on the cold water.
"A razor-sharp spray of water shot out in a long, thin, needlelike spray that struck that lovely nude cunt square on the back and shoulders. Man. I mean to tell you, she was one surprised, turned ons screaming chick right then.
"Stop it!" she gasped as soon as the scream left her mouth. The ice-cold blast of water must've jolted her into near insensibility. She made a hopeless try to get out from under the jet of spray, but I seized her in my powerful arms and crushed her cold naked body against mine, rubbing my hard on against the crease of her soaking wet butt. She struggled with me until the towel fell off and revealed to her the state of my pussy-plower.
"Of course, by then the initial shock of the change of temperature was over at this stage, too, and Babs must have found her body adjusting to the biting chill of the cascading spray and to the burrowing pressure of my cockhead against her ass. Her taut nerves began to relax a little and she lessened her struggles. But I took no chances. I kept my cock against her twitching behind. Then I moved my hands to her tits and began kneading them, twirling the cold-shrunken but hardened nipples between my fingers. I nibbled on her neck and earlobes, then jammed my tongue into her ear. There was no question that she knew what was coming-more or less, I mean, you know, I'm sure she figured that I was going to ram my whanger into her cunt and rub us off into oblivion.
"I could feel the fucking heat coming from her silky skin under all that icy water. Me? I was used to the cold route and I could adjust easily. Matter of fact, I took ice-cold showers every morning just to keep in trim.
"Anyway, I kept my old love-lock on Babs as I soaked up the heat from her smooth curves. I could feel that sweet little old belly against my own. And I could feel that big black thatch of pussy hair merging with my own fuzz. And let me tell you about those tits of hers. The nipples were up like two small bananas. They were jamming right into my rock-hard chest like hot spikes. I wanted her to shove them clear through me so they'd come out on the other side!
"Okay, baby ... soak your little ass in here for a few minutes and see what it does for your temperature!" I told her.
"The fucking goose bumps popped out all over her body, but she liked the soothing heat a hell of a lot more than she had the cold route. I moved up and into the hot water near her. The old hot water really did the trick. I could feel my own muscles relaxing under the penetrating warmth. Babs was still half dazed by all that had happened. But she was coming back to life. Her eyes were half-closed as she floated in the terrific heat. I eased a little closer to her and she wasn't afraid now. Not that she really had been at any time. The only shock she had was that ice-cold water hitting her naked ass. I floated closer and my mouth slipped down to her two big tits which were sticking up couple of hot volcanoes. I caught one of the hard nipples between my hungry lips and started kissing it. She made no move to stop me. They never did, once I got this far. I liked the taste of her nipples with the blazing hot water bathing them. I kissed and sucked and licked both of her titties in turn. I tongue-lashed them up even harder and higher. In a few moments I had them pointing to the roof just like a couple of surfacing subs.
"I had plenty of time ahead to dive for the old clam. All I wanted at this point was to get her good and hot for the fun coming up.
"I always played this part cool. I didn't rush to reach her beautiful ass. I had to hold back, but I forced myself. Too much hurrying spoiled everything at these times. Half the fun in the whole thing was the old buildup. That's where so many young guys lose out. I decided I'd give her a good massage.
"Hell, I could hammer out sounds on a naked broad's ass that made you think a fucking tap dancer was at work on a hardwood floor! My next move was to stop the slapping for a few seconds and catch the neck and shoulder muscles in my fingers. Now, my hands are strong. I don't go in for that weight-lifting crap or anything, but I just happened to be blessed with powerful fingers. And all the exercise I gave 'em only helped to build 'em even better. But I didn't overdo the muscle bit. I dug my fingers in just far enough to reach the nerve centers hidden down under the old muscle layer. It almost pained the gal, but not really. Instead, that powerful pressure brought the same glow a broad would get out of a good swallow of French brandy.
"I wanted the old sweat to start coming from the chick, and boy, you'd be surprised how much sweat a young chick can generate once she starts really unfolding. No guy ever could produce the sweet juice like a young babe. They don't have to be fat slobs, either. The slimmest broad can exude more love juice when she's warmed up than a guy could sip in a week.
"Man, that was what it was all about. That sweat. Everything I was doing was geared to get the old sweet stuff pouring out of her smooth skin. This doll's body was starting to glow like a fucking red-hot poker by now, and I was up like a rod from just thinking of all the fun ahead. But I wasn't about to spoil the thrill just yet. This love business. Half of it is just building it all up. I don't go for this bit about getting the chick oiled up and then shoving the old pajolicker up into her to blow the load. That's defeating the whole fucking purpose. Anticipation ... that's my secret. That's why I got half the dollies in town drooling after me!
"Anyway, I turned next to my willow switches. They were slightly thicker than a pencil and about three to four feet in length. The leaves were not all off the slim branches, and this was an added bonus for the dollies.
"I smacked Babs across the cheeks of her lovely pink ass and it got results. She liked the easy, flicking blow, but she was up-tight about whipping. She lifted her head to stare at me in doubt."
"Hey! What's with the whipping bit?" she asked.
"Relax, sugar, relax." I shoved her head back down. "I'm not going to hurt you. This is just a body-toner to get the circulation flowing in your ever-lovin' young form!"
"She eased up and I began a nice, steady beat with the switches across her neck and shoulders. The contact was just right. Not too hard, not too easy. It stung a little, sure, but not enough to be really painful. It was that exciting little snap that goes with fucking and the rest of it. I lowered the point, of contact each time I hit down. Every blow dropped lower and lower until the branches were flicking directly on her silky ass. This turned her on. I could see the luscious sweat drops building higher on her. The combo of whipping, nudity, steam, and hot, humid air in the room was taking effect. My banquet, table was almost ready for my hungry lips, tongue, and mouth. But I still had a way to go before I turned on the chomping.
"I played my little whip-master role to perfection. I could smell the heady aura of her pussy flow as Babs picked up the thrilling beat of my switches. I played the slender sticks down all the way to her feet. Here, I picked up the tempo and the contact between skin and switch grew more positive. I lashed her toes, soles, and heels into rosy color and then slowly lashed my way back up along her rounded legs and her full thighs to concentrate on her lovely, rounded ass.
"Dig it now, sweet?" I whispered huskily as I maintained my steady, caressing whipping action.
"Don't stop ... ever!" Babs was panting from the lust that I had built into her body.
"Say when." I was willing, but I was also ambitious. "Turn over on your back," I told her.
"Babs complied and I halted my strokes briefly as she maneuvered into the position I requested. Her act caused her lovely, great jugs to jiggle entrancingly, and I drank in her naked beauty hungrily as I waited. My eyes rested in anticipation upon the huge thatch of pubic hair that protected her hot gash.
"Hit me again, please." Babs was hot by now, man. "Harder this time ... "
"I followed her "orders." I began the switching action once more. My blows were aimed at her taut boobs that begged for the contact. I deftly aimed the lashes at her huge, brown-tipped nipples, and every time the willow landed, flashing streaks of erotic excitement were created in the by-now panting Babs. The impact of the branches grew sharper as the tips landed on her sensitized tits, but the sound was even more exciting. Babs closed her eyes ever tighter as I began deliberately lashing my path down toward her blazing loins.
"Harder, harder, harder," Babs pleaded in gasping little cries without opening her eyes.
"When I saw her all built up like that, it got to me, too. I cooled the switching bit. I don't dig too much of it. Just enough to get my gash all set for the final curtain, that's all.
"I put aside the switches and began kissing her inflamed nipples and sucking the hot sweat that flowed from under the heavy folds at the base. I licked, tongued, sucked, and chewed at the entire breast area, then eased off to her armpits where there was an even richer flow of hot sweat. Hungrily, I lapped it all up and then guided my face down toward her navel.
"I didn't drop my mouth right down to her cunt at this stage. She expected it, but that was my little trick. I lightly skipped over the old twat-hole and started licking at her inner thighs and down to her knees and calves. I worked all the way to her toes where I kissed and sucked on each one. Then, I slowly started the return journey back up. I took my sweet time. She was dripping wet with hot sweat and that was the name of the game with me. I could live on that sweet stuff if I had to. Too bad it doesn't have the vitamins and crap that regular food has. My grocery bill would be cut to zero, believe me!
"So I focused my mouth directly upon her gash. I lapped and kissed at her outer area until Babs nearly passed out from the exciting play. I let my tongue tickle her clitoris into a frenzy, and she was soon thrashing in uncontrollable lust.
"Okay," I gasped, lifting myself from the heavenly cradle of her loins. "Sit on my fucking face, baby!"
"Quickly, I positioned myself alongside the girl on my back. She eagerly squatted over my face and her dripping wet pussy engulfed my mouth. Instantly, my long, hot tongue began darting far up into her body to arouse the flow even more. Her womanly liquids began creaming my entire face as I fanned her into near-hysteria by my excruciatingly penetrating tongue. I hungrily swallowed her milky offerings and, just as she began her tremendous orgasm, I pulled her hand to my enormous penis so that she could jack me off as she experienced her massive climaxes."
Gary H. followed pretty much the same pattern in his sexual behavior. He varied his approach, depending upon the target in sight, but, once he had the girl aroused and ready for his orality, he conducted his campaign to ultimate orgasm in a prescribed fashion. It invariably concluded in the same way: the girl sitting on his face while he performed cunnilingus. This way, with the hot steam swirling around them, the sweat rolled down her body, bathing him in its salty deliciousness. While this was happening, he either masturbated himself or had the girl reach down and around to masturbate him.
He was quite happy with his life and wasn't confused about what he would continue to do or why he did it. His revelations proved that he felt oral sex was fun and he wanted to get as much of a piece of the action as possible for as long as it pleased him. His firm belief was that there simply was nothing wrong with his obsession concerning the all-out flow of female perspiration and his ravenous taste for it.
Right or wrong, it is an attitude as valid as many others today, possibly more than the views many other human beings adopt toward sexuality where guilt complexes make it impossible for them to enjoy sexual relationships -even in the sanctity of marriage.
It is quite enough to accept his theories on face value and consider his views to be those of a handsome young man "doing his thing his own way," and gaining joy from it all.
Gary's views were simple, but basic: He revealed that he felt we should all be free to love and gain sexual release as we pleased, as the moment suited us, as our sexual drives demanded.