Chapter 2
The Ache of Innocence
"My fingers flew over the keyboard with a sudden renewal of energy. It was almost five o'clock and I was eager to go home. Not eager to be home-there was nothing in the neat, attractive apartment waiting for me. Still, it had been a long day and a hot bath would be nice.
" 'At last!' Doris sighed, pushing herself away from her desk. 'I thought today would never be over. How about a lift home, Carol ? Alex couldn't pick me up. He actually has a job interview!' She grinned.
" 'Sure.' I reached for my purse and left the office. We hurried for the elevator and walked quickly the half block to my car.
" 'God, I hope Alex gets that job. We can't go on forever living on my dumb salary and love. I can hardly remember the taste of steak.' Doris took a cigarette out of her purse and pressed the lighter on the dashboard. She waited impatiently until it finally heated up. 'Steak! Ha! Hamburger!' But her pretty face was smiling. She had been living with Alex almost a month, and it was obvious she was more than willing to live on love alone.
" 'He'll get the job, Doris. This one or the next. Besides, you're bound to get the next raise.' I felt a little self-conscious about my new car and pretty apartment. Doris, who lived in the same building and had helped me get this job, made considerably less a week than I did.
"My feeling passed quickly, as Doris began to talk of her boyfriend again. She was very open about her relationship with Alex. Between giggles, Doris told me about how he had surprised her the evening before by climbing in the bathtub with her. As she went on to explain how the slippery nearness of their naked bodies had excited them so that they had to leave the tub and make love right there on the bathroom rug, I managed an interested but not shocked remark or two. Inside, however, I was anything but cool. I was relieved when Doris finally got off the elevator at her floor.
"I unlocked my door and left my purse on the floor by the door. I started to make myself a cup of hot tea, thought better of it and poured out a small glass of sherry. Then I turned on the TV and settled down on the couch to catch the afternoon news while I sipped my drink. But the news was only background music for my excited thoughts. What would it be like to have a man who slipped into your hot bath? What would it be like to have a man?
"My lips turned up in a grim little smile. What would Doris think if she suspected that I was a virgin? Would she first be shocked, and then amused? Amused! I took a warming sip of my drink while imagining my friend's face if she knew the truth. Amused? She'd be hysterical! How many virgins were there of my age? It wasn't as if I were sixteen anymore. To be a virgin at twenty-four sounded a little sick, even to my ears. In this day and age.
"Yet the whole thing seemed so logical, when I played it back in my memory. Not sick at all. Maybe a little old-fashioned, but not all that weird. I rolled the warmish wine around in my mouth and clicked off the set that failed to capture my interest that night. Mechanically I rinsed out the glass, dried it and put it back in its place. Just as mechanically I prepared a small steak and a salad for my dinner. I ate slowly, remembering
Doris' remark about never getting to eat steak anymore, but I felt no real pity for the girl. How could a lousy steak compare with the feel of a man's arms around your body?
"I had absolutely nothing planned for the evening. I even crossed off writing my weekly letter home to my mother and aunt. That could wait for another night, when I felt less . . . empty, somehow. I did the dishes quickly and fixed myself a hot bath, being lavish with my bath oils. The spicy-scented foamy water looked good, and I undressed gratefully.
"Naked, I hung up everything carefully before allowing myself the pleasure of sinking into the steaming water. That was another thing I loathed in myself, yet seemed powerless to change. Everything had to be done properly and in perfect order. I was neat and methodical. There was a place for everything, and everything had to be in its place. Sometimes I even gagged on my personal habits. Inwardly, secretly, I longed to throw things about, to finish with my food and be content to leave the mess alone until I felt like taking care of it. . . .
"I hesitated before the large mirror next to the tub, looking at myself. Carefully I began winding my long dark hair into a loose bun to keep it out of the water. But my eyes strayed to my exposed body. There was a momentary satisfaction in the fact that my long, slim body was well shaped, angular but softened by the full curves of my breasts and hips. My flat stomach curved softly into the plump mound of my sex, and the wiry curls of brown hair covering that looked very womanly. My lush breasts stood up well without a bra, and the full nipples that tipped them looked inviting.
"As I secured a pin in my hair all the pleasure went out of me. Sure, the mirror reflected a fairly attractive young woman with a good body and the potential of beauty, almost, but what was the good of it? What pleasure did it bring anyone? The pleasure of my own hands slipping frantically over the hard little knot of my clitoris on those nights when sleep was impossible? The pleasure of my own fingers squeezing and rubbing those nipples as my other fingers teased myself into a shuddering orgasm ? Certainly not pleasure to the boys and men who had tried to make love to this body in the past, and failed. . . .
"I lowered myself gratefully into the hot, bubbly water, feeling somehow as if I were hiding something ugly and embarrassing in the clean water. Where had it started, this odd condition, this much-post-adolescent virginity? Why was the world teeming with young women who, married or not, seemed very matter-of-fact about taking their pleasures where and when they could ? I was not some special case, some sexless being, immune to the demands of the flesh. Red-faced I thought about the hours of anguish I'd known, burning for an intimate touch. . . .
"Oh, I knew it started with my mother and aunt. My father had died when I was a baby, and I grew up an only child with my mother and her older sister who had never married. I guessed
Aunt Elsa was a virgin, too. At least I wasn't the only family flop, I thought bitterly.
"My mother and aunt were very old-fashioned and strict. They over-protected me while making me very responsible, practical and fastidious. I was a quiet, shy, uncreative child, in short, everything they wanted me to be. I was also very slow to develop, and I think that pleased all three of us. I was fifteen before I started menstruating and nearly that before the first softness of breast or hip was obvious. Everything I knew, from the stories told to me by my mother and aunt, from the Fundamentalist Church I had to attend, from what I read in the books they gave me, everything insisted that sex was nasty and evil, and that the girl always ended up hurt or shamefully pregnant. I knew that had a lot to do with my avoidance of sex as a teen-ager. I wore out-dated clothing and hair-styles, and I can't say that anyone was exactly beating down the door to change my mind about it, either.
"I can still remember the terrible guilt I felt when I'd try to sleep at night and be instead so terribly aware of my body. The flannel gowns I wore would rub and slip against my young flesh, and the nubbins of my breasts would seem to swell and ache from the touch. Sometimes I would think of some boy or other I would see at school, and I would wonder what it would be like to be kissed, hard and passionately on the mouth. When I couldn't stand it any longer I would touch myself all over, but instead of that bringing relief, it would only make my body ache all the more. And afterwards I'd burn with guilt and the unreasoning fear that somehow my mother and aunt would find out how I'd felt and what I'd done.
"Things changed, though, in my senior year. In spite of my attire and lack of makeup, boys began to ask me out. After much talk and a long argument, I was finally allowed to go out. It had to be a double-date so that I'd never be alone with the boy, and I had to be in much earlier than the others. Miraculously there was still a boy who wanted to date me, who would put up with all the restrictions.
"Dave was a senior also. He was a nice looking, popular boy, and I couldn't imagine why he'd want to date me. I almost thought it had to be some kind of cruel joke. But if I thought I was inadequate or unattractive, Dave didn't share my opinion.
"We went to a drive-in movie along with Dave's best friend Harvie and his girl, Toni. I'd taken great pains for this date, dressing as attractively as possible. I wore a soft green sweater I'd had for ages. It was a little small, but that made it all the better. The skirt I wore was much too long, but I managed to hike it up a few inches just before leaving the house. Trying not to be obvious, I wound my hair in a bun and secured it with only one pin which I pulled after leaving the house. A quick shake of my head and my long hair was spilling over my shoulders. Dave's eyes told me that I looked fine.
"I wasn't so backward as to be unaware of what went on at the drive-ins. After the general kidding around and the popcorn and soda orgy, Dave reached for me and pulled me close to him. Any other girl in the world would have taken this casually, but I nearly died of nervousness and embarrassment. I tried not to be stiff in his arms, not to give myself away so easily. Here I was, almost eighteen, and I was facing my first kiss as if it were the absolute end of the world.
"His lips were unexpectedly warm as they covered mine, and the sensation was exactly as if someone had painlessly kicked me in the belly. I gasped silently and could do no more than let it happen. I was sickeningly glad when the kiss ended, not because I didn't like it, exactly, but more because I didn't know how to handle it. Dave didn't seem to notice my confusion, though. He kissed me again, this time working his huge, wet tongue into my mouth!
" 'You're so sexy, Carol,' he whispered against my ear after that kiss. 'You really turn me on.' His lips and breath against my ear sent shivers down my spine, but instead of being able to give in to the delicious sensations, I was instead terrified. My head was spinning and I didn't know what to do. I looked around to see what Harvie and Toni were doing. They were locked together, their mouths joined and I could see that Harvie's hands were all over his girl friend's body.
"Dave began kissing me again. This time he began moving his hands, too. At first they stayed around my shoulders, my hair, the back of my neck. But slowly they began creeping down my arms and toward my breasts. No one had ever touched them before, and when Dave's hands cupped them I froze inside, so overwhelmed with shock that I didn't know enough to simply push his exploring hands away. A terrible panic gripped me, and with it a maniac's logic. Tersely I whispered something about the girl's powder room and reluctantly Dave released me. I stumbled from the car, walked in the direction of the rest rooms but continued on past them, and I didn't stop walking until I was safely home. I can barely imagine what was said in that car when they realized I wasn't coming back. For the last few months of school, however, a little ripple of laughter followed me whenever I walked down the halls.
"Fortunately I was able to go away for two years of college after high school. I attended a small women's college nearly one hundred miles from home. I did well in school and slowly became exposed to a whole new world. Many of the girls were from big cities and most of them had been around a great deal more than I. It was stimulating to hear some modern thought for a change, and a great deal of the fears and foolishness hurled at me by my aunt and mother dissolved in that atmosphere. I began to date a little, mostly when urged by my roommates who had boyfriends at a neighboring college. I got to the point where I could relax and enjoy being kissed, and finally to where I could allow a boy to play with my breasts through my clothing. But when they wanted to go further I always felt myself stiffen and resist. Since these were nice young college men and not determined rapists, my firm 'no' was always enough. Sooner-or later my date would become interested in some other girl, and I decided I would just have to wait around for the right young man. I still had visions of marriage and virginity going hand in hand.
"After school I got a job in my home town and went back to living with my aunt and mother again. Under their eyes I think I regressed a little, and when I got an offer to transfer out to San Jose I accepted eagerly. My mother and aunt were sick about my going so far away, but in a way I also think they were secretly relieved. They could go back to their clubs and activities without worrying about my virginity. It and I would be out of their hands.
"I worked only a few months at the San Jose office of my home town firm. The reason I finally left was my boss who, at nearly sixty, began showing a more than professional interest in me. I suspected his feelings but ignored him until the night he had me stay late to help him with some paperwork.
"The typewriter was noisy and I didn't hear him come up behind me. Until his mouth was suddenly at my neck and his hands cupped tightly around my breasts I had no idea he was near. He talked fast, urgently, his wet lips hot and unpleasant.
" 'Oh, Carol, Carol. . . . I've wanted to touch you like this since the day you walked into this office.'
"I finally found my voice. 'Don't, Mr. J-, please! Let me go!'
"He only held me more tightly. 'I want you, Carol. I know I'm not young and handsome like your boyfriends. But I have money . . . I can make you happy. . . . '
"Regaining my strength, I pushed the old man away and stood up. I backed away from him but he grabbed my arm.
" 'Listen! I don't want much, Carol. Only to make you happy! I'm not young any more. I'm not demanding like your young men friends must be.' He forced me against him and brought his lips to my ear. 'Don't fight me, Carol. Please. I just want to be nice to you. I don't even want to fuck you, Carol. I only want to use my mouth to make you happy.' He spoke in excited little gasps. 'I can make you happy, Carol, darling. Just let me kiss and suck that beautiful pussy of yours! That's all I'd ask of you! Just to lick your sweet, delicious young cunt. . . . '
"My face flaming, I managed to push the old man away from me. Grabbing my purse I ran out the door and through the long darkened hallway. I ran as if all hell was loose behind me.
"I never went back to that office, not even to pick up my check. I even went so far as to move to another apartment. Even the thought of the old man made me a little sick, yet for months afterwards, late at night or even in the middle of the afternoon, what he had said to me would pop into my mind. I'd try to block it from my mind, but every so often his words would persist. 'Let me kiss and suck that beautiful little pussy. . . . ". . . lick your sweet, delicious young cunt. . . . ' Nights when I couldn't sleep I'd think of it. Other nights the thought of some big, hard penis forcing its way up my tight cunt kept me sleepless. Finally, in utter desperation, I'd promise myself that the next time I was out with an attractive male, that would be it. No more holding back, no more saying no. I'd let him make wild, passionate love to me, and at long last I'd know what it was like to be a member of the human race.
"But the next time I did go out on a date, it would be the same old way. Either the male would be so obviously insincere that I'd hold back, or I'd feel the old fears or doubts. Once or twice I really wanted to, but force of habit would force the word 'no' from my lips, and a sharp disappointment would shoot through me as I'd feel the man reluctantly bowing to my wishes. It was increasingly worse and worse, and the last man I'd been seeing, Mark, had been the final blow.
"He was a friend of Doris' boyfriend Alex. Mark was nearly thirty, single, very attractive and seemingly interested in me. We went to Doris and Alex's for dinner and then ended up alone at my apartment. He began making love to me, but since this was our first date and all, he was easily put off sexually. He called me for a date two days later and we went to a show. He began calling me once or twice a week, and each time he seemed genuinely interested in finding out all about my likes and dislikes, my past and what I hoped to find in the future. We were on the verge of getting very close, and somehow I sensed the sexual thing was in the way. Deep in the back of my mind I sensed that if we could only share that, then the final barriers would be down. We could really know each other then, and, who knew, possibly even love each other. Before each date I would tremble with excitement and expectation. Each night I promised myself that there would be no holding back anymore. But each time I would find myself, at the last minute, backing away from his arms. I would hear the protests tumbling from my lips, even as I screamed silently inside for him not to listen, to take me in spite of my protests, take me by force, if need be. But each time, of course, Mark would give in, and each time his gaze would be more confused and a shade more irritated. And then, nearly a month ago he simply stopped calling.
"I worked the washcloth over my body hard as I thought of Mark and what could have been. Damning myself, I scrubbed brutally, as if scrubbing my flesh could relieve it of its aches and desires. Poor frightened little virgin, I thought, lifting myself from the cooling waters. Such a frightened little thing. But a good girl. Still a virgin. At twenty-four. I toweled myself savagely, working the rough terry cloth harshly across my tender flesh as if to punish it for its purity. I was just reaching for my robe when the doorbell rang. . . . "
Carol M., as she admits herself in the first half of her narrative, is an old-fashioned girl; however, unlike the great many other old-fashioned people in the world, there is absolutely no hypocrisy in the subject's extreme reservation about sex. She is simply the product of her overposses-sive and overprotective mother and aunt. There is no psychopathology of any kind in the subject, at least not anymore since, as the balance of her case reveals, she had finally been drawn out, taken, freed, deflowered, and shown the beauty of both love and the sex that is part of it.
It is extremely difficult to feel anything but pity and sympathy for the subject, and more than a modicum of disgust for her spinsterish "guardians." Their ability to instill their daughter and niece with the Christian mores of the medieval times, and the agony that such an instillation had produced in a perfectly normal girl is both frightening and indicative of the Fundamentalist beliefs in general.
That these beliefs and mores are part and parcel of the overall Christian attitudes toward sexual relationships and virginity, is supported by the following excerpt from William Graham Sumner's book Folkways: A Study of the Sociological Importance of Usages, Manners, Customs, Mores, and Morals:
. . . Tertullian and Jerome (in anticipation of the end of the world) regarded virginity as an end in itself; that is to say, that they thought it noble and pious to renounce the function on which the perpetuation of the speciea depends. The race (having left out of account the end of the world) cannot commit suicide, and men and women cannot willingly antagonize the mores of existence . . . which are imposed on them by the fact that the human race consists of two complementary sexes. Jerome, in his tracts against Jovinianus, wanders around and around the absurdities of this contradiction. The ascetic side of it became the cardinal idea of religious virtue in the Middle Ages. . . . In the replies of Gregory to Augustine (601 A.D.) arbitrary rules about marriage and sex are laid down with great elaboration. They are prurient and obscene. The medieval sophistry about the birth of Christ is the utmost product of human folly in its way. Joseph and Mary were married, but the marriage was never consummated. Yet it was a true marriage and Mary became a mother, but Joseph was not the father. Mary was a virgin, nevertheless. . . .
And it is this type of teaching that has been passed on from generation to generation, befuddling the minds of the young, and instructing them, in effect, that they were the product of "an unholy act."
It is pathetic, and ironic, that one of the major movements in the history of mankind-the Christian movements-that is supposedly founded on the concept of all-inclusive love, has been as much responsible for a number of great tragedies of historical proportions as well as for innumerable small ones, one of which the narrator of this case would have become were it not for the aggressive personality of her boyfriend Mark. Her final submission to him-it almost amounted to a case of gentle rape-will undoubtedly be condemned by both her mother and her aunt; fortunately, however, there is nothing they will be able to do anymore to warp the subject's mind.
Perhaps the most outstanding characteristic in this is the subject's ability to have been able to suppress her normal sexual drives without at the same time slipping into one or another neurosis, a generally quite common end result in similar situations. Benjamin B. Wolman, in his Call No Man Normal, writes:
A strong ego is in control of the entire system [of the defense mechanisms]; it satisfies some of the id cravings, while it postpones or modifies others and flatly rejects and suppresses those demands which it deems unacceptable. A weak ego resorts to the use of defense mechanisms against impulses. One of these defenses is the development of an attitude diametrically opposed to the id desires. For instance, an individual with strong homosexual impulses may crusade against homosexuality. An individual who hates his father and is very unhappy about it may develop a ritual of affection directed toward his father; an individual torn by an impulse to be dirty may develop compulsive cleanliness. . . . [A very common occurrence.]
The points he enumerates that may be brought directly to the case being discussed are several. There can be no doubt that the subject's ego is not a weak one. She obviously "satisfies some of [her] id cravings" by modifying them: she masturbates, but not in a compulsive-neurotic manner. Her sexual tendencies are strongly heterosexual ; yet she maintains them, not resorting to the use of defense mechanisms by developing homosexual interests and thereby "justifiably" rejecting her heterosexuality.
Her obvious inclination toward neatness, to which she refers several times and which includes her frequent bathing may be a mildly neurotic characteristic of personality, in that her natural impulse under the suppression of her sexuality would be to rebel in some other area, and the area of cleanliness and neatness would be the most commonly observed one.
As Gloria M. continues the narrative of her case, to the point where Mark succeeds in breaking through her resistance, there is a noticeable change of tone in the subject's narrative. There is no longer the suppression-moderated control of her feelings present; rather there is an elation, following her coital relationship with Mark, particularly, that suggests a total rejection on her part of the reserve, the shyness, and the fear of sex per se.
There is only one danger inherent in the sub-quent development of the subject's life-style, and that is the potential she now holds for going off on a sexual tangent, so to speak, i.e., for going from what was an extreme case of chastity and self-control to what may be hypersexuality and total inability on her part to bring any control into it.
As her narration is resumed, there is evident a slackening of her inhibitions even in her manner of speech.
"Having no doubt that it was Doris, possibly with good news about Alex's job, I belted my robe tightly in case Alex was with her and hurried to answer the door.
"He was inside before I was aware of who it was. 'Mark!' He was the last person I'd have expected, especially this Mark, his lips drawn bitterly and his breath reeking of alcohol.
"He shut the door and locked it. Then he pulled me into his arms. 'Hi, Carol, honey. Long time no see, huh?'
"I was startled to realize how good it felt to be in his arms again. Then I became acutely aware of my near nakedness. 'Wait, Mark. Let me put something on. I.. . I just got out of the bath.. . . '
" 'Not this time, baby,' He said, pulling me closer to him. His lips crushed mine.
"It was different from the start, this time. I could sense that the whole thing was going to be different. Mainly because it was going to be out of my hands. Not because Mark had had too much to drink-it felt more like he had made up his mind about something-us-before he came to my apartment.
"His tongue was hot in my mouth and it began to move around almost lazily, tapping against my tongue and invading my throat, reminding me once more of old Mr. Jand his desires.
But Mr. J-and everyone else was pushed out of my mind as I felt Mark's strong fingers reaching for my breasts. He began to knead them without breaking our kiss, and I felt my knees go out from under me.
"Finally Mark pulled away, but only to take my hand and lead me into my bedroom. As we neared the big bed I hesitated.
" 'Oh, no, my sweet. None of your changes of heart tonight.' He kissed me again, and during the kiss he eased me to the bed.
"Never had I been kissed like this before, never with such an air of finality. It was as if his body were chanting you're going to get fucked, you're going to get fucked . . . over and over, as if the decision were not mine to make at all. His body was fire on mine, and through all my fears and doubts I could feel an answering fire, a something deep inside of myself which was praying that this indeed would be it, that now it would finally end, this era of nonliving. I began to struggle against his masculine attack on my body. I even began to whimper, all the while knowing a little voice inside was begging that he continue.
"It was that inner voice that Mark was hearing. I knew it and I knew he knew I knew it. All my struggling was only so much more window dressing, another excuse to rub my body lewdly against him. I don't know when he began tugging at the belt of my robe. I was too aware of the bar of rigid, throbbing flesh confined by the fabric of his trousers. My entire belly and thighs seemed to be magnetized by that swollen prick, and my hands were flying from the back of Mark's neck to his broad shoulders, to his chest and back up to his neck again, when all they really wanted to do was unleash that monster from his pants and run lovingly along its length. But I was still too inhibited, still too fearful. Even then, even with the juices pouring from my aching pussy I might have rejected him had he first asked my permission. But, fortunately, he didn't ask and wouldn't accept my offered denial.
" 'No, Mark . . . please . . . stop! Don't do this to me, Mark . . . please. . . . Oh, God! Ahh . . . please . . . stop. . . . ' Had he stopped I'd have gone out of my mind, but still I had to try. It was like something was forcing me to play out my role, even then, while Mark had freed my body of the robe and was openly running his hands up and down my body, squeezing and mauling my tender breasts and nipples which ached for his roughness, pushing a hand down over my ribs, the indentation of my waist, the swell of my belly and hips, and finally down over the plush pad of my sex, parting my full thighs to steal within them. I cried out and moaned with joy and protest as he carefully spread my secret lips apart to press into my juicy crevices. A finger twitched over my burning, throbbing clitoris while another found and sank deeply into my womanly, straining hole. I squirmed all over the bed as the one hand worked on my taut nipples and the swollen mounds around them while the other hand invaded my oozing, creamy vagina. Never before had any hand other than my own touched this flesh, and the sensations shooting from the tips of my breasts to the knob of my clitoris were overpowering.
"Groaning, Mark lowered his face and caught up a stiff nipple into his mouth. He began to suck on it hard while I gasped into the pillow and hot tears flowed from my eyes. He released the burning bud when it was twice its former size, and immediately his mouth closed over its twin. His hands left my pussy then and went to work on his own clothing.
"Somehow I managed to gasp out a steady stream of protests. Anyone hearing us would have sworn I was being savagely raped, even while I was stiffening my back and pressing even more of my breasts into his sucking mouth. I couldn't seem to control myself, though. My body danced to one tune while my words still pleaded another. Bit by bit I was aware that more and more of Mark's bare flesh was against mine, and once his pants were finally down and I could actually feel that throbbing prick of his up against my naked belly I burst into tears. We both knew they were tears of joy and excitement, though, and I put my arms around his neck and cried even more loudly as Mark parted my legs and mounted me. I glanced down and saw his giant cock inches from my pussy.
" 'Take it in your hand, honey. Go on, Carol, take my prick. Take it and put it into you.'
"Still bawling like a baby, I reached down and had my first feel of velvety-skinned swollen cock. I rubbed it lovingly, then guided it to my tearing virgin cunt. Worshipfully I steadied it against my juicy slit and released it, bringing my hand back up around his neck.
" 'Oh, God, you're not going to . . . not. . . you . . . you're not really . . . going . . . to . . . stick that . . . in. . . . Ooh! Ah! Oh, My God! Ooh! Ooh. . . . ' My shivering body tensed as slowly Mark began to shove his big prick into me. It was like having a thousand fireworks all go off at once inside me. I suppose there was some pain as his cock plunged through my cherry, but all pain and pleasure was as one, and I cried and moaned and hung on for dear life as his massive tool shot into my hole and slowly pulled out again only to plunge right back into me again. It was like being stabbed over and over again, and I could do nothing more than remain still and take it. I wasn't even aware of my first orgasm. The wave upon wave of intense pleasure was too deep to separate one pleasure from the next. I could feel my pussy convulsing around his burning cock is all, and when Mark began to fuck me harder and harder the convulsing started in all over again.
"For the most part we were without words as we rode out our first fuck. His head was all lips and tongue, and part of the time he was licking my ear or a nipple, and part of the time he was crushing my mouth under his or sucking on my tongue. His hips were beating against mine, filling me full of cock then deserting me, then filling me again. I wanted him to stop at once, just so that I could catch up on the pleasure which I felt was happening so fast it was gone before I could capture it fully, and I also wanted him not to stop, to never stop, to continue without stopping until I could take it no longer, until my heart burst from the exquisite sensations flooding my entire being. A little part of my mind was stunned that this was what I'd put off for so long, but a larger part knew it would be like this always, and that part gloated with sadistic pleasure.
" 'Now, Carol!' Mark groaned, racing his hips, forcing all of his dick into me faster and faster. 'Now! I'm coming, baby! Now!'
"His grinding hips and ramming prick started another explosion in my womb, and I was panting along with him as he began to shoot stream after stream of hot come into my ripped pussy. I could feel it flooding me, and I lifted my legs and wrapped them around his hips, welcoming his hot come into the mouth of my pulsating womb.
"When finally he rolled off me to gasp a giant lungful of air I moaned with a brief flair of disappointment. But his hand went to my cunt. He shoved a finger into me, soaking it in the richness of our mingled juices.
"When he could finally speak he began by chuckling. 'Shit, Carol, why the hell didn't you tell me you were cherry, darling? Here I've been going out of my mind trying to figure out what was wrong with me, why you kept turning me off. Was it good, baby?' "I managed a shy yes.
"He rolled over and stared down at me in the near darkness of the room. I felt as if I'd looked into his face forever. 'It wasn't good, baby. It was fantastic. It was great. It was only the start. Hasn't anyone made love to you before at all? I mean in any way?'
" 'What do you mean ? ' I asked, knowing what he meant.
" 'I know I'm the first to fuck you, Carol. Am I also going to be the first to eat you? Is mine going to be the very first cock you've ever sucked ? '
"His voice, the questions he asked, the way he asked those questions, with the firm assurance that of course we would do all he said, excited me all over again. I nodded meekly, unable to speak.
"He reached down and gently began to rub my titties. 'Well, I have to admit it, it's the last thing I ever expected. But in a way I'm glad. It's going to be fun to find out how many ways you can moan. . . . '
"He kissed me softly at first, then slowly began to intensify his demands. His tongue licked and sucked mine, and I felt my excitement grow all over again. His mouth moved all over my face and neck and finally landed on my tits. He licked at one nipple until it hardened, and once it was very hard he left it to ache while he licked the other stiff. Then he closed his mouth over the first and began to chew lightly on the tender flesh. I moaned as he went from one to the other, taking his time and enjoying the ride. I was very excited all over again before he was half through teasing me.
"Finally his lips moved away from my tits, moving back up to cover my lips again, then dropping to kiss the heavy underside of my breasts. Then he started kissing my ribs and my hips. I shivered deliciously as he began kissing my belly, but it wasn't until he pushed open my thighs and began kissing the inside of one that I gasped and bit down hard at my bottom lip. I couldn't quite believe he really meant to do to me what he said. What old Mr. J-wanted to do to me. . . .
"Suddenly his hands were under the springy cushions of my firm little ass and my sweating cunt was being lifted and spread open. I glanced down just in time to see Mark's handsome face lower to my exposed pussy. I sucked in my breath as his tongue began to play around the outer edges of my slit. It felt warm and delightfully ticklish as it flicked over my pussy. Then, with no real warning, Mark began to lick my clitoris.
"If he hadn't been holding me so tightly I'm sure I would have jumped out of his grasp. The sensation of his tongue whipping back and forth across my most tender flesh was nearly more than I could take. Crying out with a curious blend of pain and pleasure, I made all sorts of attempts at getting away from him, but it was useless. Powerless to withdraw, I closed my eyes, stiffened my body and let him have his way with me. It took only a matter of seconds before I was gasping with a different sensation, one of undiluted, inexpressible ecstasy. He was lapping at my cunt like a hungry dog, flicking his tongue over me wildly, and it felt so good I couldn't keep from exploding into another orgasm almost immediately.
"'Oh, Mark! What are you doing to me? Oh, no, don't stop! Keep licking me like that! Just keep licking me! Oh! Now you're sucking me!' I I knew my voice was too loud. The neighbors might even hear. But I didn't care, because Mark had taken my hard clitoris into his mouth and was sucking on it as if it were my tongue or maybe a tiny prick. I could feel shooting sensations from my clit to my tits to my asshole and back again, and I knew I was about to come again.
" 'Ooh, keep sucking me like that, Mark! I'm nearly able to come again!' I was only inches away from my most intense orgasm of all.
"Without interrupting his wonderful sucking of my cunt, Mark slipped a finger into my pussy and another into my asshole. He began to rock them back and forth rapidly, finger-fucking me while he sucked away at my clitoris. I screamed and had to bite my pillow as I came that time. Mark gave my pussy one last, loving kiss before moving from between my legs.
" 'Oh, Mark! I've never, never known anything like this. . . . It was so wonderful . . . so wonderful. . . . Is . . . is there anything you want me to do? For you, I mean?'
"He grinned. 'Now that you happen to mention it,' he said, swinging his hip over my face so that he was straddling my head. From between his legs swayed his cock, more enormous and swollen than ever. Below the towering prick hung his huge balls, hairy and powerful looking. Even after all I'd just been through, I blushed at the sight of his dick and balls so close to my face.
" 'Go on, baby. Open your mouth and suck my big prick right inside. Do it, Carol. Suck me. You'll love the sensation of having a mouth full of prick. Just open your mouth and let me shove it down that lovely throat of yours.'
"His words were like a chant. My lips parted and immediately the head of his dick was between them and pressing into me. I could smell the sweat of his body, the traces of his recently spilled come, and even the peculiar odor of my own body.
"Mark moved smoothly, groaning and moaning a little as he proceeded to fill my mouth with cock. I nearly gagged on it, but he pulled out and gave me a chance to get used to having it in my mouth. I could feel his balls and the lean cheeks of his ass against my tits as my mouth was being plowed, and soon I was rather enjoying the sensations, especially as Mark's moans of pleasure kept increasing. Experimentally I flicked my tongue around his huge shaft, and the shudder of joy from Mark made me want to do it again. Soon I was sucking and licking his cock just like I'd been doing it all my life, and from the remarks Mark was making, I was doing it right.
" 'Carol, honey. . . . You're a natural born little cocksucker, baby. . . . You've really never done this before? Ah, that's it, go ahead and lick it some more. Ooh, honey, I love the way you suck!
Keep doing just exactly what you're doing and I'm going to drop a mouthful of hot come down your throat. Yes, just like . . . that.. . . '
"I was lifting and squeezing his big balls gently as my mouth tightened and bobbed against his cock. It was lovely having his big thing in my mouth and I was determined to give him as good a time as he had given me with his mouth.
" 'Oh . . . yes . . . now. . . . ' Mark groaned, stiffening. I could swear his dick got an inch bigger just before his balls shot the first load into my greedy mouth. I sucked hard and was rewarded with a second spraying. For a panicky second, I didn't know what to do with my mouthful of juice, but the pressure of his still huge dick made it impossible to do anything except swallow it. Lovingly I milked the last few drops from his balls. Finally Mark forced me to stop sucking him. He sank to the bed with his arms around me.
"I held on to him and breathed deeply, still not entirely sure I wasn't dreaming the whole thing up. But the smell and taste of sex was too heavy in the room. Besides, the ache in my cunt told me it had all happened, and the throb in the same place made me hope there was even more to come.
" 'Have I learned everything now?' I whispered.
"Mark grinned. 'Almost. But not quite. Besides, that was only the practice run. Let's get a little sleep, then we'll start all over again, okay?'
"I nodded and snuggled up to him, dropping one hand to tenderly grasp his soft cock. I had the feeling it was going to be a very short nap. After all, I had a lot of time to make up. . . . "
Although from an overall point of view there can be expressed nothing but optimism for the subject's future life-style development, there is still that potential of her going rapidly toward the other extreme, i.e., toward an excess of sexual activity, perhaps even promiscuity.