Chapter 2

The Sexless Marriage

"I'm tired of living through the whole rotten mess of what has to be the most frustrating marriage on the face of the earth. I've had it up to here! My gut crawls every time I think about it-and I think about it often. Me, married eighteen years and I haven't had a night in bed with my wife for almost seven years. That's right-no sex! And it's been so long now that I can't even remember for sure why Marnie cut me off. I think, ridiculous as it may seem, that it might have had something to do with a remark I once made about her taking naps all day instead of doing housework. But I'm not even sure if that's the reason. All I know is that for the past seven years she's always kept herself bundled up and always makes an obvious point of keeping her legs clamped shut.

"Over and over I keep telling myself that I can't take it any longer, that I've got to break out. But she's got me over a financial barrel. With two kids, a heavy mortgage, and about fifty other bills, I can't even afford the price of a divorce. So I just live with it, day after day, dying a little bit every time I think of the mess that I've made out of my life.

"Do you know what it's like to spend seven years dreaming about sex, but never actually tasting it? I mean, do you really know? Well, I do. It's hell, brother, pure hell! About four or five times I've tried to get something started with other women, but they've all ended up being disasters. I'm pretty good at coaxing them into bed, but once we're there I freeze up and I always come out of it looking like a fool. There's something wrong with me upstairs. Why the hell should I freeze up? Why the hell should I feel guilty? That damned wife of mine has got her tits wrapped around my conscience so tight that I'm choking.

"I often wonder how she stands it, how she can go day after day without sex. I swear she must sneak off every now and then to jack off 'cause I know for sure that she didn't sleep with any other guy. In the early days she was always eager for sex, so I know that she can't go through the rest of her life without orgasms. I mean, she's got to have release!

"I pump off a lot. I'd go crazy if I didn't. Do you blame me? Am I justified?

"What really makes a bad situation worse is Marnie herself. When I married her she was a skinny little kid of seventeen. You should see her now. She's got a body that would turn on a eunuch. Lush, full, maddeningly desirable. Every night I have an urge to fling her on the bed and ravish her; and every night I end up dreaming about the way she used to be. It tears my heart out. Her tits and pussy were huge the last time she let me touch them. Of course, I expect her love hole has tightened up somewhat these past years, but even a tent couldn't cover up the size of those boobs.

"So how do I survive, you ask me. How the hell does any lifer survive? On fantasies-lots and lots of fantasies. It doesn't take much to set me off and when I do get going I have an imagination that runs wild. It's the best crutch a man like me could ask for-hell, it's the only crutch!

"Marnie would shit if she knew the things I was pulling off with her in my mind. I've been over every inch of her body hundreds of times, licking, sucking, fucking, biting, and even socking her around once in a while. I'm at my best when I'm fantasizing sex with her. The thoughts always come so easy. And I'm always the aggressive one, attacking her, forcing her into submission. She doesn't know it, but she's been responsible for well over a gallon of come that I've shot out in recent years. One of these days I'm going to throw that little tidbit of information right up into her face and laugh like hell as she gags.

"Although most of my dreams are about Marnie, I'm not limited strictly to her. I'm a bus driver and my day is loaded with the sight of comely young chicks. There's no contact, you understand-they get on the bus and they get off and I never see them again. However, it doesn't take long for some of them to leave their mark on me. In fact, I can check out legs, hips, and tits in the wink of an eye. And, if I'm turned on by someone in particular, I've got a way of adjusting the rear-view mirror so that I can peep at her during the ride. This kind of scene does have its bad moments, though. There are times when I can't even recall stopping at certain spots to pick up passengers; it's like my mind goes blank for several blocks. This usually happens after I've picked up a real special-lookin' doll and my thoughts start wandering, imagining how the air is between her legs.

"Another area that I touch upon for fantasies is my 'trips around the world.' I love to read, particularly novels with foreign settings. Almost any night you can come into my living room after Marnie and the kids have gone to bed ad find me sitting there, a paperback in one hand and my prick in the other. Hell, I've been the captain of a freighter with Iberian registry, an INTERPOL agent on a narcotics crackdown, the owner of a casino in Singapore, and a dozen other virile characters. And I always end up with at least two exotic beauties trying to drag me to bed. I figure it costs me about five handkerchiefs per novel.

"There are other areas of day-to-day living that I draw upon for my fantasies, but those are the basic three: my wife all the time, the chicks on the bus during the day, and my world adventures at night. But I'd give all three of them up for one real live toss in bed with my Marnie.

"Over and over I relive the last time I had sex with her. I can't really remember all the details, but my imagination helps out. I imagine that she was a little reluctant that night, but that my aggressiveness won out. I've been over this little scene at least a hundred times. Each time it's a little bit different, but the sensations are always the same.

" 'Honey,' she said, 'will you come over here and scratch my back?'

"We were in the living room. Marnie was stretched out on the couch and I was sitting in my rocking chair, reading a magazine. 'Sure,' I said, and I dropped the magazine and went to her.

"She was lying on her stomach, her back to me, her lovely brown hair cascading down over her shoulders. She was wearing a yellow nightgown that ordinarily stopped at her knees, but it was now gathered high up on her thighs, just below the bottom edge of her panties. Her hips and thighs looked full and sensuous. For that matter, her whole body looked delicious. I felt my prick stirring as I walked over to her.

" 'Sleepy, babe?' I asked as I sat on the edge of the couch and lightly patted her hair.

" 'No, not really. Just a little tired.' She yawned and crushed her body closer to the back of the couch, allowing me more room to sit.

"I placed a hand on her back and started scratching.

" 'No, no,' she said. 'Go underneath. It always feels so much better.'

"Why I'll be delighted! I thought lasciviously. I lifted the tail of her nightgown and slid my hand under it. I took just a second to run my hand over the fullness and smoothness of her ass. She squirmed and one leg crooked up, its heel brushing against my shoulder. I moved my hand to her back and started scratching. 'Ummm,' she sighed, 'that feels good. Ummm . ... '

"It was a typical back-scratching session. After a while she asked me to dig in harder and scratch faster. Then she started directing me to all areas of her back. First, her right shoulder blade, then her left, then the base of her neck, then up and down her spine. After a couple of minutes she heaved her back slightly and murmured, 'Oh, that's fine, honey. That's good enough.'

"But I wasn't ready to stop. With thoughts of sex on my horny mind, I began massaging her back, an activity that she loved. I began at the base of her neck and worked my way down her spine, gently kneading the smooth, tight skin. Then, using both hands, I moved up to her shoulders and massaged them. Then over to her shoulder blades and, finally, down to her sides, my fingers pressing teasingly against them. She squirmed and giggled. "That tickles!' she squealed and both her heels shot up and bounced off my shoulders.

"Grinning to myself, I ran my hands along her sides, then dipped them down a bit until I could feel the roundness of her crushed tits. My prick began to fizz. Marnie turned her head and looked at me. 'Hey,' she smiled, 'since when are those my back.'

" 'Oh, I'm terribly sorry,' I chortled. 'My hands must have slipped.' But then I forced my hands down even farther until the backs of them were pressed against the couch and the palms were cupping the soft boobs. Marnie stared co-quettishly at me. 'Got ideas?' she asked.

"I shook my head. 'Who? Me? Of course not.' She cocked an eyebrow and looked at the bulge between my legs. 'Do you have any ideas?' I asked.

"Her face screwed up a bit. 'Oh honey, I am tired.' I grinned wickedly at her. Hell, I wasn't tired; I was rarin' for action. I bent forward and sucked a hard kiss from her neck. 'Honneeee!' she cried. 'You'll give me a hickey.'

" "That's the idea,' I said.

"She sighed in resignation, then turned her body so that she was lying on her side, facing me. I left one hand under the nightgown to tease her nipples, and slipped my other hand inside the back of her panties. I pinched the taut little ass-cheeks, then ran my fingers down through the meaty groove. I poked at her ass-hole and she squirmed. The opening was clenched tight. I withdrew my hand and sucked on the forefinger, then, in one smooth maneuver, I slipped my hand back under her panties and drove the finger up into her rectum. 'Uhhh,' she groaned, her body buckling inward and her sphincter trapping my finger. "That feels weird.'

" 'Does it hurt?' I asked, slowly working the finger back and forth.

" 'No. It just feels ... well you know, weird.'

" 'Want me to stop?' , "She shook her head and smiled. 'No. It feels weird, but it feels good, too.'

"For several minutes I sat on the edge of the couch, my hands doing their damnedest to wake her up and make her hot. My right hand worked steadily on one of her lazy tits, squeezing the paunchy flesh and pinching the nipple up to erection. My left hand covered the bottom of her fanny, my forefinger driving in and out of her rectum. I was getting hornier by the second, wishing to hell that she'd hurry up and show me some response.

"Finally, things started warming up. Almost before I was aware of it, her hand had sneaked in between my legs and was massaging my throbbing lump. I looked at her eyes. They were just a trifle too glassy to be suffering from exhaustion and they were fixed on the erotic movements of her hand. 'Do you want to go into the bedroom?' she whispered, her eyes never leaving her work.

" 'We can do it all out here, babe,' I said, the excitement of anticipation creeping into my voice.

"I withdrew my hands from her rectum and boob and stood up. Quickly I shucked off my trousers and shorts, then knelt by the couch. I helped her off with her nightgown and panties, then stopped for a long moment to stare down and appreciate the lushness of her naked body. The couch had become a virtual altar-in front of which I knelt and on which Marnie lay. The thoughts and feelings that ran through me were obscene.

"Smiling at me and reaching up, she placed her hands at the back of my head and guided my face down towards hers. I sucked in her lips and chewed on them, occasionally darting my tongue between her teeth so she could nip on it. The familiar taste of her mouth slipped inside mine and I savored it, titillating myself with long-ago memories of how our best sex had always begun with lunging mouths. We exchanged lugs of saliva and both of us blew our pleasure between the other's lips.

"Her hands became more demanding at the back of my head and I responded by kissing her harder. Then I slipped away from her lips and went after the rest of her beautiful face. I sucked on her chin and on her cheeks; I pecked at her eyelids and ran my tongue slowly and wetly over her forehead; and then I sucked in her nose and she reacted the way she always did, pulling back and squealing and briskly wiping it with the back of her hand.

"My mouth swept over to her ears where I poked into the opening with my tongue and sucked in the fluffy-soft earlobes. Her head squirmed forcefully against my cheek and she kissed me quickly on the ear. Loving everything I was doing, she sighed out her pleasure and whispered, 'I love you.' Her words spurred me on. I washed out the tender spots of her neck, paying special attention to the tasty hollow just below her ears. She was breathing harder and I could tell by the restless squirming of her body that she wanted me to move faster. She amplified this by latching onto my free hand and depositing it between her legs. The hairy bush jacked up to meet and press against my palm.

"I dropped all calculated moves and went at her like an animal. While my hand worked fiercely on her box, my steaming lips devoured the sweetness of her titties. First one, then the other, always starting on the fat softness first, then working down and gobbling in the nipple. She helped me by steadying each tit with her hand, then ramming it into my mouth. My hand, meanwhile, was giving her cunt a hard massage, firmly pressing down as it worked the canyon route between her clitoris and her love-hole. The box ,vas squishy and when she opened her legs wide, I heard a soft sucking pop as the air broke through the thin layer of moisture.

"My mouth slipped from her boobs and flashed down to her belly. I lapped it thoroughly, sweeping up tiny beads of moisture that had formed there. My tongue dove into the depths of her belly button, digging out the erotic taste of it. And second later I was working on her brown bush, soaking it with spit and then chomping on it, dragging the squeaky hairs between my teeth. I widened my mouth and hauled in as much of her mound as possible, hair and all. And then, covered with sweat and exhausted, I rested my head on her arch for a moment, watching my fingers work on her cunt.

"I was finger-fucking her hole in the same manner in which I had finger-fucked her ass-hole. I was too damned hot to be considerate about it. Instead of the slow, sensuous caresses that I knew she wanted, I was whacking my finger in and out of her tunnel with piston-like velocity. She tried to correct it by reaching down and pressing on my humping finger, but I captured her finger, wrapped it around my own, and together we assaulted her huge box of goodies.

" 'Easy, Bob,' she whined down at me. 'Please go slower. You're hurting me.'

"I looked up and saw the pain on her face. 'Sorry, hon,' I said. I threw the finger-fucking into low gear. 'But this is what you get for being so beautiful and so goddamned sexy. You just drive me up the walls!' Impulsively, I turned my head and copped a nip of her mound with my teeth.

"She sighed and patted me on the head as I withdrew our fingers from her cunt. Then I knelt up beside the couch, gauging her body for newer and more wonderful thrills. Her hand took the opportunity to sneak in and take hold of my burning prick. I looked at my rod proudly; her hand barely covered its girth. Ah yes, it was up that night. It looked more like a bludgeon than a sex tool. It looked as though it could actually hurt someone.

"I rolled over on one knee so she could keep her grip on my cock, then dipped my head down into her twat. Oh sweet mercy, she smelled good! I intruded ny nose hard against the soft flesh between her pussy lips. Ah, that was Marnie, all right! That was the real Marnie! Sweet meat, my head was spinning with ecstasy! I wanted to let myself go and freak out, but the thought of wasting come in the palm of her hand was sharp enough to bring me back to my senses. My tongue squirted out between my lips and sampled the taste of her tender meat. Ummmm, pussy candy. Just suck, I reminded myself, for crissake's don't bite! Ahhh, this is where I want to come home every fucking night.

"Her hand was doing its best to pull on my meat while my mouth worked ravenously on her chasm of goodies, but the position was awkward and she wasn't able to get much speed up. It was probably just as good. As I said before, I didn't want to waste any of my precious come by spilling it into her hand. On one of her delightful moves, she slipped her hand all the way down my shaft and cupped my balls. Then she started scratching and tugging on them. For me, the sensation wasn't all that stimulating, but it was soothing and relaxing. It felt sooo good! I found myself halfheartedly wishing that the balls were in her mouth, but in order to pull that off we'd have to switch positions. And I wasn't about to give up the taste of this sweet meat-not yet, anyway.

"My tongue continued to cut along the furrow of her box, experiencing delicious taste sensations every inch of the way. No deodorants down there for my Marnie. This was the genuine stuff and I was enjoying it immensely.

"I worked on her hole for a little while longer, frigging it with my tongue and nibbling on its outer edges with my teeth. That portion of her cunt was alive with taste-a kind of strong vanilla. The moisture I lapped up had a syrupy texture to it and I drew it between my lips, testing its resiliency. My entire mouth was vibrating silently, reacting to the womanly taste of that adorable love-hole. I didn't want to ever let it go, but my prick was beginning to ache and I knew that Marnie had reached that point where she was eager to accept my thick seven inches well up into that well-lubricated tunnel of hers.

"Reluctantly, I pulled my mouth away from her cunt. I knelt up again and looked down at her body. Her belly and tits were heaving rapidly; it looked as though they had just completed a twenty-mile race. Her eyes, half-closed and smoky, were on my face. Her lips, full and sensuous, were half-parted; I could hear the spottiness of her breathing. Oh, baby, I thought, I've got you now.

"She started to protest as I tugged on her arm, indicating that I wanted her to come down on the floor with me. I caressed her and assured her that we'd have more room on the floor, that the couch was too narrow. She slid from the couch to the floor and positioned herself on her back, her legs spread wide. I looked below the hairy mat. The meat was beet-red and those fat pussy lips were pouting erotically.

"Without missing a beat, I quickly placed my knees between her legs, reached up and pulled a cushion off the couch, and slipped it under her ass. Her arms reached up towards me and I bent over and gave her a crushing kiss. Holding that position, I found my rod, hefted it, and slid it into her puckered and impatient love-hole.

"It was like being sucked into a fur-lined piece of pipe. Tight at first, and then, as I filled her completely, the tip of my rod could feel nothing. She was that deep. All the pressure, all the pleasure, was being experienced by the walls of my shaft. And Marnie was an expert when it came to this. She could work magic with those cunt muscles of hers. Press, release, press, release. If possible, I knew that my already engorged prick would fatten up even more each time she manipulated those sexy muscles. We were both so sopping wet that there was no need for adjusting. I fell into her all the way on the first try, and then I felt both our bodies tighten up in preparation for the fuck.

"My body completely covered hers, but I was careful to keep my weight from crushing her weaker frame. My forearms were pressed against the floor and my hands were cupping the back of her head. I favored this position above all others because it meant that we could kiss as we made love. It also meant that I could pull back, if I wished, and either watch her tits bounce while we humped or suck them into my mouth. The cock-cunt area of our bodies may have been the primary source of sensation, but I always got one hell of a charge out of bringing her face and tits into the action, too.

"At first, she laid still while I did most of the work. Slowly, I moved my prick back and forth along her tunnel, simultaneously kissing her lips, cheeks, and neck. I tried to extend the sensations, to make them last as long as possible, and I think I succeeded. Marnie moaned constantly, occasionally throwing her head back as the ecstasy became too much for her. Her fingers were kept busy tracing erotic circles over the goose pimples on my back, and her lips were busy, too, alternately chewing on my jaw and sucking on my lips. I could feel my rod getting fatter and fatter within her hole. I knew that before long it would be numb with excitement and that my load would come boiling out.

"And then, as I began to pick up the tempo, Marnie joined in. She began using the lower portion of her body, flinging it up so that our pubic areas slammed resoundingly together. And on each stroke, as I'd pile all the way into her, she'd make a little grinding motion with her hips and simultaneously flick her cunt muscles. That little action, done over and over, was more than enough to bring on my orgasm. As soon as I started to come she released the tautness from her body and experienced her own climax. It was a trick that she had learned during the first five years of our marriage. She could go all the way up to the brink of orgasm, and then, somehow, hold it until I was ready. And, in this instance, as on so many other occasions, we ripped off together.

"The instant I could no longer control my actions, the instant I began to come, she scissored her legs up over my back and started slamming her body against mine. 'Come on, honey. Oh yes, come on, come on. It feels soooo good. Keep it coming ... keep it coming!' And she kept up the talking, urging me to let go and let it all come out, all during our orgasms. I think the sound of her voice added to her own excitement, although she never would admit it to me. But that night I must have dumped a vialful of juice up into her bag. I thought I'd never stop. And all the time I'm spurting, she's talking to me, raking my back with her fingernails, chewing on my lips, and pile-driving her body against mine.

"The picture wasn't as one-sided as I appear to be painting it. In my mind, I can see Marnie thrashing out two whomping climaxes. The first one came during the height of my own explosion, and her second one came right on top of her first, following my last spurt of come. I'll never forget the way she looked just before that second one hit her. For a fraction of an instant it looked as though she had died. Her complexion was ashen, the pupils of her eyes had rolled back in their sockets and all but disappeared, her mouth was frozen open with no visible signs of breathing, and her entire body seemed to be captured in some kind of death-like stillness. But then, in one of those wonders of life, an enormous charge of energy poured back into her and she flew into a convulsive, floor-thrashing climax, all the while searing my lips with the heat of her own mouth. By the time she was through, we were both completely drained. We remained on the floor for a long time before either of us made a move.

"That's the way I remember it. Marnie might give you a different version, but I believe that mine would be the most accurate. After all, I'm the one who's been reliving it over and over again for almost seven years. And my version must be accurate; otherwise why do I always come in my handkerchief every time I think about it."

Bob I-'s case is a classic example of psychosis totally controlled and, perhaps because of that, totally irreversible. The term "totally controlled" is used because the subject is not susceptible to any psychiatric suggestions which would allow him to release his fantasies, or to accept them as such. Not the fantasies of sexual encounter with passengers on the bus, or the "travel fantasies" he mentions. These latter he is fully aware are fantasies. The fantasy-and there is one primary fantasy that controls all of his other delusions-which he refuses to accept as a fantasy, is the "puzzling" frigidity of his wife Marnie.

It is true that Bob had not had intercourse with Marnie for the past seven years as he claims. It is not true, however, that Marnie is frigid. Marnie is not frigid. Marnie is dead. She has been dead for the past seven years.

Although Bob I-'s total withdrawal might appear to be unusual, it is, in fact, not as uncommon as one might suspect, particularly when the traumatic experience is the death of a loved one.

In a quiz appearing in the June, 1972, issue of Cosmopolitan magazine, prepared by Dr. Ernest Dichter, the first question is:

...Someone in your family has died-your mother, father, husband, child. You had been close to each other. How would you react?

And the four answers are: a. You would refuse to be consoled or see anybody, and would try to deny the fact of the loss by holding on to all your memories. Only years later would you recover from the blow. b. Deeply shocked at first, you would nevertheless find that life soon resumes its normal course. c. You'd behave almost hysterically, blaming yourself, others, or even the deceased for the tragedy, and would remain inconsolable for a long time. d. You'd take stock, accept the fact of death as a painful but normal part of life, and make new plans for yourself, possibly involving a new life with someone else.

There can be no question as to the answer

Bob I-chose-unconsciously-upon the death of his wife, at a very young age. Nor can there be any question that he not only loved her very much while she was alive but that he loves her more now that she is dead. The psychopathology of the subject's situation needs hardly be questioned. Love can be thought much of; however, in Bob's case, the blind emotionalism with which he had bound himself to the memory of his deceased wife is romanticistically pathetic. Death did not part them.

Psychiatrically speaking, Bob I-, in spite of the pathos he generates through his narrative, is on a solid road of perversity. His masturbatory perversion, however, is not the type that repulses people. It is not criminal. Neither is it dangerous-except, possibly, to himself. He does not masturbate while exhibiting his genitals to anyone. He does not allow his children to be aware of his deep-seated problem, directly. Nor is he institutionalized. It has not been established whether in the presence of his children he admits to the fact that their mother is dead. It appears more than likely that he does, sliding immediately into believing that Marnie is alive only when the children are not in his presence or when they are not questioning him about their mother.

It is apparent from the subject's narrative that he refuses to consider remarriage. Something that the psychoanalyst is attempting to recognize-in the subject's past, perhaps something in his relationship with Marnie, blocks his natural sexual urges. Nothing could be further from Bob's mind than his being "unfaithful" to his frigid-deceased spouse. Even in his fantasies he does not permit himself to engage in coitus with his love-objects; he only performs cunnilingus on them and allows them to fellate him.

Glaringly apparent in the subject is his schizoid personality, a personality which J. P. Chaplin, in his Dictionary of Psychology, defines as one "which is withdrawn from others, which has difficulty expressing aggressive impulses in a direct manner and which engages in introverted, shut-in thinking." The extent of this introversion becomes almost frightening-as compared to the subject's description of his lovemaking to his wife-as his narrative is continued.

"There's one particular quirk to my fantasies which I think should be brought out here. You'll notice that when I fantasize sex with Marnie I can do just about anything sexually with her. But no matter how many different kinds of sex practices we enjoy, the night always ends up with me having intercourse with her. Not so in my other fantasies. Even in my mind I am unable to drop my semen in another girl's vagina. I can only bring myself to have oral sex with them. Now how the hell is that for a hang-up?

"The way it has been explained to me is that I am punishing myself. I am whipping everything that's alive inside me because of guilt. But what guilt? And why guilt? I've never been able to bring myself to fully cheat on my wife; my actions have only gone so far and then poof!-they're gone. I've been a good father; I take care of my kids. I even think, considering the circumstances, that I'm a pretty damned good husband. So what's this guilt? Something I said or did to Marnie? Getting after her because she took naps instead of doing the housework? I can't believe that. In fact, I'm not even positively sure that it was that remark which set off all this misery.

"I've even been told that I could financially handle a divorce if I really wanted one. How's that for a grabber? I've sat down and figured out that it's an impossibility-unless a relative suddenly pops off and leaves me rich-but here, people outside of my life tell me that I can do it if I really want to. What a bunch of horse-shit! They don't know what it's like. After all, they're not me!

"Anyway, I guess I'll be stuck in this marriage for a long time yet. I'll just have to make do with what I've got. I've got three square meals a day, a roof over my head, clean sheets on my bed, and two kids that love me. Most people would consider themselves very lucky to have such a setup. So maybe I'm not so bad off, after all.

"The hell I'm not! I can kid myself all I want to, but the fact remains that I'm still cut off from the one thing that I want most: Mar-nie's body. So I have to fantasize. I have to dream about other girls. I have to imagine that my tongue is on their cunts and their lips are around my prick. Yeah, that's where I give it to them-right in the old gullet. I don't want to give it to them where it might make babies. I just want them to swallow it and make me feel like a big man.

"I think sometimes that I'm mad-dreaming the kind of dreams I dream. like here is one I have quite often. I return from my tour of bus stops to my apartment, open the closet door, and find three naked chicks hanging on coat hooks. ... Smiling ... waiting for me....

"I also had a dandy experience a couple of weeks ago that led to one hell of a dream. This chick gets on the bus and the instant I see her my prick starts buzzin'. Lord knows, she doesn't have the greatest figure in the world. Her face is pinched in, her shoulders are stooped, her breasts are small, her legs are stocky, and she's got awfully big feet; in short, she's built like a jar of cooking oil. So what turns me on to her, you ask. Her hips! Man, she has got the widest hips that I've ever seen on a girl. And the first thought that comes to my mind is that she has got to have the widest cunt this side of the Nile.

"As if her build wasn't enough, she accents it by wearing a miniskirt. She could barely walk. I know I got to see more of this so I pull one of my stoplight tricks. I wait for the green light to turn red and then back to green again before I pull away from the curb. In the meantime I'm following this chick through the rear-view mirror. I watch her as she waddles down the aisle and takes an outside seat about ten rows back. I'm in luck. Sure enough, as heavy-hipped women are prone to do, she spreads her legs when she sits down. Only slightly, mind you, because that damned miniskirt won't let them spread any wider. But it's wide enough for me. I can see between her legs. She's wearing pink panties and there are tufts of hair poking out on either side of the panties. Wow! For the next ten stops everybody on that bus should have insurance. I mean, I got one eye between the chick's legs and the other on the road. And when you're driving a bus, you need two eyes.

"Anyway, we make it safely to the stop where she gets off. She's not even all the way down the steps when I start fantasizing. But this time I catch myself and force myself to knock it off. But I could hardly wait till that night. I promise myself that when Marnie and the kids go to bed I'm really going to have one hell of a jack-off session.

"But it doesn't work out that way. I end up getting into an argument with all three of them, all because Joey-that's my boy-bought an expensive stereo system through some mail order company without permission. That little scene led to another and that to another until I gave up and went to bed early. I was so damned angry that I couldn't go to sleep, so I ended up taking a sleeping pill. I had completely forgotten about the chick on the bus.

"Moments later I'm in a forest. Only it really isn't a forest. It's the hair from the chick's cunt. Here I am fighting my way through the forest. The growth is thick and springy and suddenly I am swinging a machete, cutting a path for myself as I move along. There is a heavy, pungent odor hanging in the air. It is the smell of cunt and this is the game that the big hunter is tracking. I am wearing a week-old beard; I am sweating up a storm; I am exhausted; and I am dying of thirst. But I am determined to capture my quarry, to corner and devour that cunt meat. Come hell or high water, I intend to keep going.

"Abruptly, with one final swipe of my machete, the crispy brush is gone. There is a small clearing and on the other side of it is a high pink wall. The odor of cunt is overpowering. I stare at the wall, noting its cuts and grooves. Looking at it from this angle, I can see that it's in the shape of a cunt. There is the clit, about forty feet up. About head-high off the ground is the bottom lip of the vagina. I fling my machete high up in the air and shriek out my joy. The big hunter has triumphed again!

"I look around cautiously, but, of course, there is no sign of life. I creep up to the wall and tap the lower edge of the vagina. Suddenly all hell breaks loose. The wall starts pulsing in and out, like it's breathing, and the air is filled with all kinds of agonized sounds. Layers of pink pussy lips close in around the vagina, sealing the entrance from my view. Then, after a few seconds, a blast of air from inside pushes the lips back and opens the cave to my view again. A few seconds later, the air dies down and the lips fold in again. This goes on and on until I realize that the thing is breathing. It's alive! What a catch!

"I look at the top of the wall, at the clit, and I see it turning all different colors of the rainbow. Pink, orange, yellow, blue, green, black, and back to pink again. Holy hell, a psychedelic clit! Suddenly a voice calls out to me. It comes from everywhere and from nowhere and it is full of pain. 'Help me, help me. . . ! ' it calls, its sound reverberating all about me. I am dumbstruck. I don't know what to say. I don't know what to do. I look around for my machete. It's no longer on the ground. Instead, in its place, is a pink ladder made out of two huge phalluses with thick strands of cunt hairs for rungs. I look up at the wall. The lips around the vagina are flapping wildly now being sucked in and blown out at a frantic pace. The clit's colors are spinning out of control and the sight makes me dizzy. I fall down onto the ground, suddenly frightened. I take out my prick and begin jacking off.

' 'Can't you hear me?' the voice wails.

"I look at the wall and pump harder on my rod. 'I hear you!' I shout back. 'But I can't see you. Where are you?'

"There is about a two-second period of complete silence, and then I hear the voice let out a long loud groan of despair. It begins sobbing loudly. I feel a tremendous surge of remorse for tracking this miserable creature down. And then, gradually, the sobbing fades away and I hear a woman's voice whimpering.

" 'Please ... ! ' I call out. 'How can I help you?'

"Suddenly, except for the sound of those monstrous pussy lips breathing in and out, there is dead silence. No more sobbing. No more whimpering. I continue to jack on my rod.

" 'Hey, big boy, lookin' for somethin' sweet?'

"I back up against the edge of the forest, fear crawling over my body. 'Who's that?' I call out. 'Are you going to hurt me?'

" 'With a mouth like yours? Hell, baby, would a mouse bury a slice of cheese?'

" 'Where are you?'

" 'Right in front of you. C'mon, big boy, kiss my clit and I promise you-I promise you....'

" 'Promise me what?'

" 'Kiss my clit and I will tell.' , "Suddenly this new voice breaks into a spasm of giggles. I look up at the clit. The color wheel has stopped. It is now a steady pink. And as I watch, it too, like the vagina below it, begins to breathe. It is like watching a tremendous balloon being blown out and deflated-over and over again. I rush over to the ladder, prop it up against the wall, and begin climbing.

" "Tee-hee, tee-hee,' giggles the voice. 'Don't let my hole catch you. It'll gobble you up!'

"The in-and-out movements of the pussy lips have slowed considerably. I remain on the fifth rung of the ladder for several minutes, timing the movements of the lips. I can see into the blackness of the hole. It is frightening. I watch the lips carefully. At one point, when they have just closed over the opening, I make my move. Faster than I have ever moved in my life, I scurry up the ladder, barely avoiding the upper edges of the lips as they blow out. When I reach the top of the ladder, I am still too short.

" 'You'll have to help me,' I call out. 'I can't reach you.'

" 'Big man, big prick,' the voice squeals in delight. 'Kiss my clit and I promise you. Strong man, tasty prick. Tee-hee, tee-hee.'

"I am frantic. I've got to reach that clit. But before I can even work on the problem, the wall begins to tilt. I am terrified. I am going to fall to my death. I am going to be gobbled up by that enormous hole. But then I am aware that only the top part of the wall is tilting. The clit is caving down towards me. I reach up and touch it with my fingers as it nears me. "Tee-hee, kiss my clit,' I hear the voice giggle. Closer and closer it comes to my lips. I stretch my neck, trying to meet it with a kiss. Just a few inches more ... closer and closer ... closer and-ah! success!

"I am on the rear seat of the bus, my face buried between my passenger's legs. Her cunt is everything I imagined. Wide, hairy, thick-lipped, and juicy. I am tongue-jacking her clit, listening to her moans of pleasure. It sounds like she is near orgasm. I work my tongue faster.

"There is a strong suction on my prick. I look around. We are in a sixty-nine and that wonderful passenger is drawing the life from my rod. Suddenly I realize that my meat is pulsing and I can feel the spurts of come jetting from its head. It is a wonderful feeling, a fulfilling feeling. I say thank you to the woman's cunt. It has kept its promise.

"When I awoke the next morning, the dream was still fresh on my mind and my bedsheets were coated with sticky sperm. Hurriedly, I tore down the bed and got the sheets into the washer. Since I often got my laundry in the washer before going to work, I don't think that Marnie ever discovered the mess.

"Read what you will into that dream. To me, it's nothing. It's just one more fantasy in a lifeful of fantasies. Awake or asleep, they find me or I find them. And I know they'll always be with me, at least until Marnie and I make up-which could be never.

"My 'world travels' fantasies probably give me more satisfaction than any other kind. For here I can lose myself among strangers and do almost anything I want. I say 'almost' only because I am still unable to visualize myself having intercourse with a stranger. This, despite the exotic makeup of her body and despite the control that I have over any encounter I choose to enter.

"These fantasies, if they were to be dissected, could be broken down into two phases. During the first phase, I establish myself as a man among men, deliberately confronting danger and always overcoming it. These experiences always give my ego a tremendous life and prepare me for the rewards of phase two. In the latter phase I become a Don Juan and a Casanova all rolled up into one prick. Women find me irresistible and, gallantly, I do my best to satisfy them.

"Not too long ago, I had successfully completed a dangerous assignment for a South African diamond company and had decided to take a couple of days off to relax and recuperate on the sandy shores of southern Italy. As I lay on the beach nursing the bullet wound on my right side, two bikini-clad Italian beauties strode up.

" 'Would you mind settling an argument for us?' one asked in perfect English.

" 'If I can,' I answered politely, holding one hand aloft to cut down on the glare of the sun. I was to identify the slim one, the girl who had spoken to me, as Tina. The other, more bosomy chunk of flesh, was to be Anna.

" "The argument may seem rather silly to you,' said Anna, 'but it does mean something to us.'

"I bit down on the end of my cigar and stared openly at their bodies. Nice pieces, but too tanned, I thought. Marnie would never get that brown. 'Bad for the skin,' she would say. I waited patiently for the girls to deliver the question.

"Finally, Anna dropped to her knees before me. 'We have noticed you for the past couple of days,' she began. 'We have been admiring you. You know ... ? '

" 'I understand,' I said.

" 'Anyway,' Tina picked up, also falling to her knees, 'I say that your cock has been circumcised and Anna says that it has not. Can you tell us which one of us is correct?'

"I clamped down on my cigar and thought the question out carefully before answering. Finally, I looked up at them. 'Girls,' I said, 'I work in a tough business ... a rotten business. I don't trust anybody. Can't. My life is too valuable to be left up to trust. Y'understand ... ? '

"Both nodded and leaned forward expectantly.

" 'So I always gotta see things for myself. Never trust anybody's word. Got the picture ... ? '

" 'Yes,' Anna answered, her heavy bosom heaving excitedly. "Take it out so we can see it.'

"Now even in a fantasy I can't imagine myself exposing my prick on a public beach. So, conveniently, I transported the three of us to my hotel room. The two cunts are sitting on the edge of the bed; I am standing before them, wearing only my bathing trunks.

" 'Are you ready, girls?'

"They both nodded eagerly. Tina ran her hand down inside her bikini bottom and I could see a steady movement strike up right about where her clit would be. Anna, the heavy breather, cupped her tits in her hands and began squeezing them.

"Dramatically, I shoved my trunks down to my ankles. "There you are, girls. No foreskin. I've been circumcised. Tina wins!'

"Anna's face clouded as she looked at her companion. 'All right,' she glowered, 'you first!'

"I always like to have at least one poor sport in my foreign travels. I love to have women fight over me.

"Tina smiled brightly and moved her face to about one inch from my prick which, I might point out, was like a rock. 'Do you mind ... ? ' she asked.

" 'Of course not,' I said. 'Here ... I'll help you.'

"Gently, I placed my hands on her cheeks and guided her mouth onto my prick. Mamma mia! Her mouth was bottomless! She had gobbled in all seven inches of my lumber and my balls at the same time! Stunned, I looked over at Anna. She had removed her bikini top and was now going all out on her tits. She glared at Tina, then looked up at me. 'She is a pig!' she spat out.

"The world needs more pigs I mused to myself as Tina lathered up my prick and frigged herself off at the same time. It was an unusual experience. I had never had the top of my prick and the bottom of my balls chewed on at the same time. I reached down and patted her head. 'You're doing a lovely job, Tina. Just lovely.'

"I held off my ejaculation until she came. Now that was almost a disaster. When she did come, I thought for sure I was going to be castrated. Her teeth were that sharp. But then, after her orgasm had faded, the little darling used the roof of her mouth to apply friction to the top of my cock. I felt my balls expand against the softness of her tongue as I shot off. This was a new thrill for me, coming in someone's mouth with my prick and balls in there at the same time.

"When Tina was finished with her job, I turned to Anna. 'One moment, please.' I paced up and down the room for a few minutes, jacking my rod back up. When it was ready I walked up to Anna. 'You'll have to go some to top your friend,' I said pleasantly. I reached over and patted Tina on the head. She grabbed my hand and kissed it.

"Anna yanked my hand away and looked up at me imploringly. "Trust me,' she said.

"I smiled graciously down upon her and held my cock out in front of her mouth. But she brushed it away and fell to her knees in front of me. Moaning softly, she lifted her ponderous tits and crushed them around my rod. It was like being captured by two pillows. I was delighted at her maneuver. With the dispatch of a professional tit-woman, Anna massaged my prick with her sensual weapons. Before a minute was up, I felt the oncoming orgasm. I grunted and Anna caught the signal. Quickly, she dipped her head down and scooped the front half of my prick into her mouth while her tits continued to massage the bottom half. If possible, the load she got was even heavier than the one I gave Tina. She slurped out her pleasure as she took every ounce of juice that I could give her.

"Later, I serviced both women, going down on them for the pure joy of it. When Anna shoved her extra-large box in my face, she spread her cunt-hole wide and said that she would be delighted to receive my cock into it. I thanked her kindly, but told her that I would rather suck than fuck. She shrugged her shoulders indifferently, and then proceeded to whomp the hell out of my face when she came.

"These are my fantasies. These are the wild and weird sexual outlets I allow myself for years and years of physical denial. Marnie shows no signs of letting up on her crusade of 'punishing me,' if that is indeed what she is doing. I've been seeking professional help, trying to find some way out of my hell-hole. She thinks it's a waste of money and a waste of time. Sometimes I think that she doesn't believe that we have a problem. I can only hope that someday-when she's ready-she'll follow my example."

The prognosis for Bill I is extremely pessimistic. It is felt that only through some sort of "shock" will he accept the reality of his situation, and thereby return to the world that, in fact, needs sensitive men such as he. Only then will he be able to be the father to his motherless children-the father that they must desperately need.