Chapter 8
MISCELLANEOUS TEEN-AGED SEX EXPERIMENTS
Science has done a lot for us. For one thing, in terms of human beings, it has provided us with a yardstick-with what we call the "norm." Starting long ago, developing more fully through the intensive work of Dr. Freud, and continuing on through the work of others up to the present day, science has developed a "profile" of human life, especially insofar as psychological development is concerned (psychological development is closely entwined with physical development, and both contain as an important element sexual development).
Very few persons in fields which deal with any aspects of human life will take much exception to these "norms"-however, as one works with human beings, as one sees their deeper, inner selves, one becomes increasingly aware that each person is an individual. He is the sum and substance of what his life has been, and at each moment he is standing on that past while trying to cope with both present and future. In my experience with people-the majority of whom I come in contact with, I must admit, are people with problems-I have had to re evaluate and come up with my own philosophy (a philosophy that is shared with others, but we must each develop it for ourselves). In short, I am fully aware of the "norm," but I am more fully aware of the fact that people fluctuate in degrees away from, back to, and then away from again, that "norm."
I have found that that fluctuation is a vital, important thing. Human beings, unlike many statues, are not poured into moulds. Each is an entity within himself, influenced by what he is and by what his life has been. Therefore, each must use his own methods in trying to adapt or adjust to life.
That is especially true for the teen-ager. For that reason, nothing that a teen-ager does surprises me, nor would I in any way condemn him for what he does. Each teen-ager must do what he has to do, in terms of what his life has been, what he is, what he hopes to be, and what happens to him from day to day as he strives to adapt to this world in which he lives.
In the previous chapter we have seen some of the more common methods of experimentation used by teen-agers in terms of sexuality-or, more specifically, in their attempt to cope with their new-found physical maturity and in their effort to adapt to society. Because these types of experimentations are relatively common, I have been able to group them together under
CHAPTER headings. But there are many sexual activities, gone into in the way of experimentation, that are not so common-they are unique unto the individual, albeit they may happen to be practiced by numerous individuals across the country. But because they are not as widely practiced as some, I would refer to them as "miscellaneous teen-aged sexual experiments," and the following are merely examples. I must reiterate, however, that in each case it is merely an example of an individual, circumstances being what they are, making such experimentation in an effort to draw more closely to the adult maturity that is essentially the goal of all mankind.
Sharon was fifteen years old. She had gone into puberty early, developing into a beautiful girl with a shapely body. Her breasts, at that early age, were large, but not so large as to appear ill-proportioned. She had a pleasant, usually cheerful personality, but it was surface; she just as easily and quickly withdrew into a world of her own silence. She described her own awareness of and methods of adjustment to her development honestly:
It was almost a dirty trick, as if Fate were playing games. Here I was, developing a woman's body real early, and getting what I thought were all the feelings of a woman-but at the same time I lived with a family that was so old-fashioned, so religious, that it wasn't even funny. My mother watched my development with a hard face, and I know it must have worried her almost sick. I know that it embarrassed her, but she finally sat down with me one day when I was about thirteen and tried to talk to me. All that came out, though, was that God put a lot of temptations in people, through their bodies, and if people didn't resist these temptations they might have fun here on earth but they went to hell. Of course, there was a good chance, according to her, that the fun on earth could change to a hell on earth, too-venereal diseases, pregnancy, all sorts of things could happen. She told me all that, but it wasn't all too clear.
Anyway, there I was with my body growing. The mound between my legs began enlarging, something like a swelling, and hair began to grow there. My breasts started developing, and once started, there was no stopping them. At fourteen I had the body of an eighteen year old. If I hadn't been aware of it myself, the way boys looked at me and acted, the way girls talked, would have told me.
But I had these other feelings, too. Sex feelings, I know they were. I was overly conscious of my own body; I'd lie awake after I went to bed and be just terribly aware of it. I'd rub my hands over myself, and it felt so good that I couldn't imagine what mother meant about all that hell and temptation and all. Then, because I was so well developed, I was usually with an older age group-and I heard the things they talked about.
Well, when you're so aware of your own body, and when you have those feelings ... I remember that first it was my own hands that excited me, the feel of them, and then I started thinking that they were someone else's hands. Sort of dreaming it. I knew that the opening between my legs wasn't only for going to the bathroom-and when I rubbed it the feeling was good, when I got bolder the feeling was even better. Then I heard about boys ... Well, I couldn't ... I absolutely couldn't, of course ... let a boy get near me, but I couldn't help but wonder what it would feel like. So I experimented. I used my finger first, and it was partially satisfying, but it still didn't tell me all. Then I saw a book, pictures in it, with diagrams of human bodies-if I had wondered, I had a better idea then about what a boy looked like. I found things that looked similar-carrots, cucumbers-and I used them instead of my finger. Oh, the nights I drove myself to a climax with something like that! Then, after I reached that exhilarating feeling, it was like getting to the top of a mountain and then falling over the other side. I'd realize what I had done and be depressed, worried, and so frightened that either mother or God (I didn't know which to fear the most) would find out and punish me.
This must sound terrible. I ... I couldn't have anything to do with boys, no matter how I tried, but ... Well, one day I saw a dog, a large dog. I bent down to pet him, and he rared up, his paws on my shoulders. I saw ... I saw that hair-covered thing, and I ... I felt something go through me. So very sneakily, I lured the dog home, out to the garage. I pulled my skirt up and my panties down and pressed myself out to him. He was only vaguely interested at first, but then he began to get more interested. He began to lick me between the legs, and it sent shivers of pleasure through me. My heart was beating terribly, but ... I got his front paws, placed them on my shoulders, and I shoved my opening up to that hairy thing. I didn't realize ... a reddish, slipper type thing telescoped out of that hairy holder. It probed around between my legs, and finally he got it in the right place. He wasn't gentle, he drove it into me, and I cried out. Imagine, losing your maidenhead to a dog! But heavens, how that felt, that huge, wet thing thrusting in and out of me.
Sharon, unable to experiment normally, was using the only kind of experimentation that she dared-not a boy who could "do those things to her," but a dog-someone, something that would never tell her parents. But she was a normal human being with normal desires, and fortunately for her, she rebelled against her strict and misinforming mother. Forsaking carrots and cucumbers and dogs, she went out with a boy; they entered into normal intercourse and she found not only that it was pleasurable, but that none of those "awful" things happened to her. There were guilt feelings after her first couple of affairs, but she gradually learned to accept them as necessary, and the equal necessity of keeping her mother "in the dark." At any rate, tottering on the edge of trouble, experimenting through what could have led to serious problems, Sharon was able to give up what must be called "deviant experimentation" in favor of normal experimentation, and through it begin to develop into a normal person.
Frank H. was a normal and healthy looking sixteen year old, but he, too, had been faced with parents who did not thoroughly understand sex or the normal development of children. Entering into puberty, extremely aware of his changing body, Frank had begun his experimentation-first, in the early days of puberty, by finding a neighbor girl of the same age who was willing to "trade looks." But this is the way he told the story.
I think we had done things like that before when we were younger, I'm not sure, but I was changing. I mean, my pecker was getting a little bigger and it seemed to get hard more often, my nuts were getting bigger too. Hair started to grow. I wondered if the same kind of thing happened to girls, so this girl who was my age and I talked about it-and she was curious, too. We got together to compare notes. She let me see her, and she was changing, too. I felt her tits getting bigger, then I was between her legs, her dress up around her waist, and investigating there. She watched and told me. Yes, it was swelling, it wasn't just a little mound with a slit in it. And it was more sensitive to touch ... the way I was touching her then ... and the door opened!
All kinds of hell broke loose. It was her mother, and she went into a rage. She called my mother, and she went into a rage. They scared hell out of us with threats and warnings.
Well, when I was about fourteen or so, a lot more developed, I went out with a girl. She had been busier than me, she knew a lot more; she started the kissing, but I went along with it. I guess nature took over from there, because we started feeling each other's body. I felt her tits, fascinated by their size, and I thoroughly enjoyed playing with them, and I liked the feelings I was getting from her stroking my pecker. Then she took one of my hands and put it on her cunt, and I gave it a good feeling up. You know, rubbed it real good, felt around with my fingers, squeezing and all, and then finally getting a finger inside and feeling around. Well, like I said, she'd been around, she didn't want any finger up there. But when I went to stick my cock in ... well, I couldn't. All kinds of horrible thoughts smashed against my mind, the things my folks had told me. But I still wanted ... and so did the girl....
It was really embarrassing. I'd get my pecker up to her, get it just about ready to slip in, and the damn thing would go soft. It just about flipped her, because with our kissing and all, with me feeling her up like that, she was really excited. Finally ... I don't remember whose idea it was ... but finally I just finger-fucked her to a finish while we kissed. She had her orgasm, and though I'd gotten hard again, I couldn't.
It really bothered me, and I knew I had to do something about it-but even though I really wanted to, I was afraid to go out with other girls. So ... first I tried this. I'd he in bed and remember that whole scene, my pecker hard through the whole memory, and when it came to shoving it into her, it stayed hard and I jacked off. Well, I figured I'd made it over the hump, so I got up the courage to ask her to try it again.
We went the same route again. Stripped down naked and really loved it up, kissing and rolling our bodies together, my pecker hard and all around down there. I kissed her tits, loved them up with my tongue, sucked on those cute little nipples ... all the time staying hard as hell. Then I felt her hand down there, pushed between us; she got hold of my pecker and it felt good, I held my breath, she rubbed the head up and down her pussy, then ... then got the head pushed in between her pussy-lips again ... and the damn thing went soft!
I felt lousy, she was sort of disgusted. She pushed herself up and disappeared for a few minutes. When she came back she had ... She said it was her mother's, her mother didn't know that she knew about it, but there it was. One of those fake cocks. A great big one, bigger even than my pecker. It looked real, with a big head, the skin pulled back off it, and even a vein running down the full length. She laid on the bed, spread her legs, and rubbed the thing all around like it was a prick, then she started the big head through. It pushed the lips apart, spreading her, and she sort of groaned with pleasure as she shoved it farther in, deeper and deeper. Her hips moved from side to side. Then she started fucking herself with it, but she yelled for me. She was in a real lather. I started playing with her tits again, kissing and all, then she pulled my head up and our mouths were together, her tongue was working around inside mine and she was moving her hips like crazy. She had her free arm around my shoulders; now her kissing got more desperate, her body was thrashing around and she dug her fingernails into my shoulder. She was having herself one hell of an orgasm from that fake cock. I guess you know where that left me-I went home for another jacking off scene.
You know, that really worried me. It worried me so much that I couldn't concentrate on other things. My school work started going down hill, I practically crawled off into a hole. I mean, here were all my friends talking about the things they did, real men because they laid this or that girl, and there I was with a pecker that passed out from fright every time it got near a cunt. Then I got an idea. It was in the showers one day, after gym. This one kid who has a pretty big prick is always horsing around-the other kids talk about his cock a lot, and I guess he's sort of proud of it, so he fools around with stuff where it's involved. like pretending to jack off even though it's soft, or ... Well, this one thing that set me off, he got up behind another kid, grabbed him by the hips, and pressed his pecker up against him. Said he was going to fuck him in the ass. All of a sudden I found myself thinking, maybe if I did that, maybe if I could make it with a boy that way, then maybe I could transfer it over to a girl.
Well, I've got this friend. We'd slept at each other's house a couple of times, and a couple of times we had even diddled-played with each other. Trying not to be obvious, I invited him to spend the night. At first I had planned on just outright telling him my troubles and asking him if I could try, but when the time came I couldn't. So I waited until he was asleep, sound asleep. He was on his back, so I reached out and rubbed his chest, moved my hand down, felt around his pecker. It got hard and he stretched out, then he rolled over, but he didn't wake up. I thought that was a good sign. I let him get restful again, then I felt his ass-end. Rubbed my hands all over his buttocks and legs; he didn't wake up, so I got braver. Rubbed my finger up and down the crevice between his cheeks, stuck my finger in him. He stirred a little but didn't wake up. At least he didn't seem to. Finally I got my hard pecker up there, pushed the head slowly between his cheeks; when it got firmly embedded there, where it wouldn't slip out, I reached around and took hold of his pecker. Then I slowly started easing my pecker in. He groaned a little, but hallelujah, I got it in without it going soft!
I worked real slow, sliding it in and out, and it felt good. The feeling started getting better, better even than it does when you're jacking off, and then I creamed him. Oh, Jesus, did I cream him! And did I ever feel good, I had finally succeeded!
I could hardly wait to get with the girl again-it took some arguing, because she was a little upset with the way I'd kept going soft, but I promised her that it wouldn't. So we got together, naked, making passionate love, and finally I was ready to pour the meat to her. It was me who reached down this time, grabbing hold of my rod and rubbing it all around that pussy, getting it in place. I pushed the head through those soft, pliant lips, ready to drive it home ... and the bastard went soft again! Man, I could have cried. I damned near did.
In this case, Frank had experimented as best he could in trying to resolve his own sexual problems-in trying to step over the threshold from youth to adulthood. Unfortunately, the damage that his parents had done had been such that this natural and necessary sexual experimentation was not sufficient. It took professional help; it took learning that the parents had literally put the fear of God in him to the extent that his subconscious mind turned his penis soft each time it tried to enter a girl. Shown, instead, that nothing terrible would happen through intercourse, and that it was a perfectly natural act, Frank was finally able to get over his fears and practice normal sexual intercourse. With that barrier removed, as he cheerfully admitted later, he went on from normal intercourse to other experimentations (i.e., mouth-vagina and mouth-penis situations, "doggie fashion" and so on)-in other words, he had become a normal person sexually, and was moving on toward adulthood and total maturity. His grades went up again, his personality became cheerful. He was saved.
I have mentioned the hippie and other movements. In these movements, under the guise of rebelling against "The Establishment"-a society which is seen as old-fashioned and repressive-young people experiment with sex more openly. Called "Free Love" and other such tags, it still is merely sexual experimentation. It frequently involves group activities, and as frequently will develop into rituals such as those mentioned earlier. Some of the group are older, in what would ordinarily be considered adulthood-but they are, in fact, emotional youngsters who are experimenting with all the rest. The courage element enters into it, too, the group pressure; many of these persons would not have the courage or the opportunity to thus experiment otherwise, but the group pressure leads them into it.
Jerry T. was the seventeen year old son of a successful businessman and a mother who was "proper" and active in civic and social affairs. Jerry had had a relatively quiet and uneventful childhood, certainly filled with material possessions that many of his age might envy, but just before his seventeenth birthday he decided that something was missing in his life. More specifically, he was subconsciously feeling the frustrations of being "penned in" by the attitudes of his parents, by their demands on his behavior. Reading about a hippie settlement, this tall, fairly good looking youngster left his possessions behind him, ran away from home, and joined the movement. He reported later:
I got there in early evening. I was in the foothills and the air had chilled. They were sitting around a fire, about a dozen or so of them, and I could smell the stew they had just made and the coffee percolating over the open fire. They were dressed in many different garbs, most of them colorful, many of them revealing various parts of the anatomy of both sexes-either openly or damned near openly. A boy with a blond beard, long blond hair, was the first to look up; our eyes met, and his blue eyes seemed like two placid lakes. "Welcome," he said, and that was all that was necessary. They took me into their circle without questions, offered me some of the stew. After the meal the fire was kept going and there was much talk, most of it philosophical, then couples started drifting away, the fire started dying down. Finally the blond boy told me that I could share his bed with him; if I decided to stay we'd make other arrangements in the morning.
He had been wearing levis and a tee-shirt. When he took them off he was completely naked, and completely at ease. It was outside, the light wasn't bright, but his nakedness was still obvious. Anyway I undressed-and for some reason, I guess old training-I left my shorts on. Once under the single cover, he rolled over toward me, rubbed my chest and stomach, then moved his hand down. I got a hard-on even while I was frozen inside, because this wasn't the kind of thing you do! But he lulled me with his talk, he told me of their beliefs. Man is beautiful, man should be free, there are no rules but the rules of nature. He got my shorts off and he was fondling my cock, his own hard against my thigh. He told me that they all believed in love-in love of everybody. We happened to be together this night, we would love. Perhaps tomorrow night I would be with one of the girls ... or even during the day, if we so desired. But for tonight ... he buried his head under the covers and I felt his mouth on my cock, then I felt his own hard cock prodding me in the face. I felt the pleasure of what he was doing, and I wanted to be part of them, to live according to their philosophies. I took his cock into my mouth, duplicated what he was doing to me. We sucked each other to a climax. When it was over he kissed me on the mouth, pleased, he said, that we had expressed love.
The next afternoon several of us were sitting on some rocks in the middle of a discussion. Well, I wasn't discussing, I was listening-shocked but interested, and trying to keep calm and accept. They were saying things that would have made my mother faint! One boy said, "Love is love. It's man's attunement to nature and to his fellow man. Man, at the same time, is beautiful and capable of love-and love, like everything else, grows stronger if it is put to use."
"And love," a sharp-looking young girl, her tits hanging loosely in a bit of a rag tied around her (obviously with no brassiere), said, "is best expressed through physical contact. When I feel a boy's hard prick up in me I know he loves me. Why ... why, sometimes I get such a feeling of love for another person that I just have to show it! Like now...." she cried out, and she pushed herself off the rock. She came over to me, knelt down between my legs. "I feel a deep love for this boy, I want to show him my love." With that, right in front of the rest of them-and moving so quickly that I couldn't react, she opened my fly and pulled my cock out. She did it easily, because I had already discarded shorts. She took it in her mouth-I almost died, and looked around at their faces; there was nothing there but peacefulness. This, to them, was right. It was just as right that my prick stiffened as she sucked on it, as she slid her lips up and down the full shaft.
It was just as right when she got to her feet, took my hand, and led me off into the woods. And it was just as right for me when, a few minutes later, we were both naked and as she sucked on my cock I buried my face in her hairy crotch and began exploring with my tongue-something I would never have done before! But she was right-it was right! There was nothing wrong with the way my tongue was working over those lips, with the way it felt its way in between them, finding the warm juiciness of her inner being. There was nothing wrong with her sucking on my balls a little, then returning to my prick, and the two of us meeting in a climax that made our bodies do wild dances in that lying-down position.
It was a simple, beautiful life, under the protection of a mass of rocks, improvised sleeping bags on the ground near them, the pit where we built fires for cooking and for evening warmth. We foraged during the day-sometimes going naked into the woods to look for fruit and berries, for animals, and sometimes dressing to go back towards civilization in search of other things. A stray chicken, a vegetable patch ....
After the first day or two I could nm around naked without getting a hard-on, and not only could I accept attention from others, I could offer it. If a girl spread her legs, rubbed her pussy and said that she felt the need for love, I could give it to her. If a boy developed a hard-on and wanted love, I could give it to him. Sometimes three or four of us, maybe more, felt the need for mass love; we'd lay down and begin things and nature would take its course. They weren't boys and girls, cocks and cunts, do's and don'ts. They were human beings, and often a girl would be sucking on a boy while another boy was screwing her, and the boy she was sucking on would be sucking on another boy. Occasionally a hard, hot prick wanted the pleasure of your rectum, or yours might want the same of another. You could kiss a girl's tits without fear, the comfort of a child sucking on its mother's breast. Many times I went to sleep at night suckling a nice, warm tit while someone else rested their head between my legs, my cock spewing out and then resting limply in the warm comfort of their mouth.
It was honestly one of the most beautiful periods of my life. But we were of nature, we understood it, and we were touched by it. Fall came, our nakedness was more a torture than a pleasure, and then winter. We separated, drifting, many back to the city they had come from or to some place where they knew others like us lived within civilization itself. I went along to such a place, to an old house that such a group had taken over, but it wasn't the same as when we had been out in the woods. I finally ended up going home again, thinking at the time that it would be just for the winter, that with the coming of spring I'd go back.
But after his return, after a session in which parents and son talked as best they could, difficult as it was, Jerry found himself feeling less disgusted by his parents and their kind of life. He slowly went back to his old habits, and by the time spring arrived he thought only vaguely of the "natural retreat where humans are real and love is God." He had actually, in that brief time, made up for years of experimentation that he had denied himself and having found satisfaction, having experienced the various kinds of physical enjoyments, having learned all there was to know about the human body and its capabilities, he was willing to admit to himself that "love" had really only been an excuse for sexual experimentation, for sexual license. Having satisfied his curiosity, he had taken great strides toward maturity; he was ready to settle down now to the important business of becoming a social and adult human being. He could content himself thereafter with occasional sexual affairs with girls of his own neighborhood and society. "But," he said, "I wouldn't trade that experience for anything in the world. It was great while it lasted, and it had come at just the right time. I got a lot out of my system."
These are but examples of the various types of experimentation that take place. Volumes could be written, because each individual searches out his own answers in his own way. Suffice it to say that these young people accepted circumstances as they arose, using the elements of those circumstances as means of satisfying the natural need to experiment with their sexuality.