Chapter 1
Claudia lay in her warm tub, her young silken body caressed gently and lovingly by the tepid water. A feeling of lassitude came over her. She stretched her slender white arms overhead and unconsciously her hips undulated. She felt a peculiar sensation about her femininity. With gentle fingers she explored her genital orifice, closing her eyes with delight. Of late, she had felt more and more a strange longing, an overwhelming desire for she knew not what. Claudia was sixteen.
She raised herself out of the bathtub, her firm white body aglow from the warmth of the water, like a nymph arising from the sea. The figure-length mirror covering the bathroom door was clouded with steam, but gradually the mist cleared and the glorious maiden-form of Claudia stood revealed in all its wondrous nudity and flowing curves. If only some great painter could have beheld the sight of her rosy flesh rising from slender, rounded ankles into curvaceous calves, then melting into long, powerful, bewitching thighs, with the splendid hair-crowned V at their apex, then continuing with milk-white hemispherical hips tapering to an incredibly slender waist only to swell out once more into the exquisite breasts which stood out like twin rosebuds-if only some master-artist were present to preserve forever this picture of beautiful girlhood poised upon the threshold of life!
Claudia rubbed herself dry with a coarse, heavy Turkish towel. She studied herself closely in the all-revealing mirror. She turned and viewed her figure in profile. She stood tall and not too slender. She was unusually developed for her sixteen years. Some girls are naturally more precocious than others. In Claudia's veins there flowed warm pulsating Latin blood from her mother's side. She felt a thrill as she cupped her hands under her breasts. She did not need a brassiere, she thought. It was mean of Mamma to make her wear one. She hated the confining feel of it when she filled her lungs with air. Claudia did not realize it then, but she would always fight against stupid, silly conventions which interfered with her enjoyment of life. She was a natural rebel.
"Claudia!"
It was her mother. "Landsakes, child, are you ever going to get out of the bathroom?"
"I'll be ready in a minute, Mother. Does Daddy want me down to the office today?"
"Yes, dear. You had better hurry."
Claudia's father was the doctor in the little town in which they lived, and occasionally she helped out in the office.
She had breakfast and a few minutes later was in her father's office. When she got there she found that he had left on a call, so she made herself comfortable. There was no telling when he might come back. Her real duties consisted mainly in answering telephone calls. She thumbed through a few of the magazines scattered about and, becoming bored with this after a while, she selected medical books from her father's shelves at random.
Claudia possessed a healthy curiosity. She stared at the anatomical charts and tried to remember her own body as it appeared to her in the mirror. Then she turned to the chapter on "Male Glands and their Functions." Here was reading more to her liking. She pored over the illustrations. Claudia knew a great deal about the masculine makeup by now. In fact, if anyone was ever ready for the fulfillment of sexual desire it was Claudia. Before her she had a diagramed drawing of the masculine sex organ. Claudia had a vivid imagination, and as she sat there with the heavy volume in her lap, she almost felt the large, beautifully colored penis entering her sheath. She sighed and her hips rolled unconsciously and with natural rhythm. She wanted, she needed love. The telephone rang and it turned out to be Arthur Bolton, who attended the same high school she did. He asked her if she would go to a movie with him that night and she gladly consented.
She resumed her contemplation of the phallus revered by all ancient traditions as the seat of life. Old civilizations had honored the male reproductory organ by art works displaying that member in unashamed and natural glory. Her father entered, carrying his worn, black satchel. "Mrs. Duncan just had a baby, a little boy."
Out of the yearning in her to experience and to know all things in life, she answered, "I wish I could have a baby."
Her father laughed at the seriousness of her tone. "It's not as pleasant as you think, young lady."
That night, promptly at eight, Arthur Bolton tooted his horn outside of Claudia's home. She came out happy and eager for the society of a man-any man; it didn't matter. She got into the little roadster and wedged in close beside him, her hands reaching out to stroke the roughness of the tweed coat he wore. The little car tore along into the balmy night. The air was redolent with the scent of growing things and the wind pulled at their hair.
"Gee! Claudia," Arthur said, "do we have to go and sit in that hot theater tonight. Couldn't we just drive around somewhere."
Claudia's heart leaped with joy. At last here was an opportunity for love-real love. Of course she didn't want to sit in a stuffy theater and watch other girls crushed and mauled by virile, handsome men. It did things to her. Lately she would just twitch in her seat and her hand would steal beneath her skirts and her fingers would run gently over the tender lips of her vulva.
"Why no, Arthur," she said, barely able to restrain herself.
He gave her a strange look. "You certainly have a lot of pep tonight, Claudia. I don't know when I've ever seen you looking so well, either."
Claudia just snuggled closer to him. She could feel some of the tautness and restraint leaving her. Tonight she would experience ecstasy! Tonight she would receive her woman's rights!
Arthur drew up at last along the banks of the little lake which lay a few miles outside of town. There was a golden moon overhead and the wind whispered through the leafy trees. Claudia's soft black hair tantalizingly brushed Arthur's lips. A faint scent of the stimulating perfume she affected made him dizzy. He looked down at her and her glowing dark eyes were somehow wicked and mysterious in the moonlight. He took her smooth rounded chin in his hard, calloused hand, tilted her face and their lips met in a cool, tender, drawn-out kiss. He had kissed her this way before, and that had been all. But tonight Arthur had not reckoned on this new Claudia, this girl-woman who would not be denied. She nuzzled her soft cheek against his and thrilled to the feel of his adolescent beard. She exhaled her warm breath in a slow delicate stream in his ear and felt a sudden rigidity come over his body. Claudia was learning; she possessed a natural aptitude for love. She brushed her full, tender lips over his eyelids and felt him quiver in her arms. He was but an instrument for her superior skill.
"Claudia, honey," he whispered, "I can't stand this any longer! You're driving me mad!"
With an incredibly swift motion, his hand sped to his trousers and came forward with a sizable stiffened penis projecting from a bush of reddish blond hair. Claudia trembled. At last she was to know and experience that relationship which has motivated man since creation. His trembling hand ran up her delicately turned limbs and enmeshed the luxuriant curling hairs growing about her femininity. She felt a delicious, glowing warmth in the region of her crotch. She melted into his arms.
"Honey, please. Give yourself to me!" Arthur was pleading in a voice that would melt a stone. She suddenly realized dimly that his tiny car was no place to consummate her womanhood. It seemed somehow improper, not to say almost impossible, to perform the heavenly act in such cramped quarters. Her mind worked quickly. The ground was yet damp from previous rains. There was no question about it. She would have to postpone her inauguration into the hymeneal rites. From far off she heard the pleading voice of her companion. "No, Arthur," she said. "I can't tonight."
He was almost beside himself with infuriated desire. "So you're nothing but a teaser!" he sneered bitterly as he buttoned his trousers. "There is nothing I despise more than that. An honest whore is noble beside you. There is something cheap about a girl who promises everything and then welches."
Claudia was almost in tears. She wasn't that sort of a girl at all. She reveled in the idea of some day giving herself wholeheartedly to a man she was fond of. She saw nothing wrong in it and would continue to see no wrong in it as long as she lived. That was the destiny of human beings anyway-to love and be loved. She told that to Arthur and he saw that she was right. "Don't you think I want love the same as you do? Don't you think women have feelings and burn with the same desires you men do?"
He kissed her and told her she was a wonderful girl. He explained to her what an unsatisfied erection did to a man. He told her how sorry he was to have been so eager. It was there that Claudia learned that most women have better control of themselves than men. But that was before she had herself been inducted into the almost unendurable pleasures of sex. Claudia was an exception.
His penis seemed to have a magnet-like fascination for her. It had been the first real male organ she had ever seen. Her fingers itched to hold it and toy with it and almost unconsciously her dainty hands played about the front of his trousers. She recalled something about masturbation she had read about in her father's books. That would be one way of giving her lover some relief. Womanlike, she was already putting her mate's desires ahead of her own.
She slowly unbuttoned his trousers. He sat there helpless, unable to move while she captured his rod in her soft delicate hand. It changed from a limp, shapeless mass of flesh into an erect soldierly fellow, throbbing and swelling in her grasp. She stroked his manhood with ineffable skill for so inexperienced a performer. Claudia instinctively did the right thing in sex matters. In ancient times she would undoubtedly have been a high priestess in some sexual-religious cult. Her grasp on Arthur's penis alternately tightened and loosened as she drew it in and out, gently at first and then with staccato jerks. Arthur's face was writhing with unendurable agony. He kept saying, "Oh! Oh! Don't . . . stop!" Then the love-juice began to squirt hotly: first in short, spasmodic squirts, and then in a strong stream clearing the car by many feet.
Arthur was sighing now like a spent swimmer who has at last made his way to shore after a titanic battle. "Oh, Claudia, it feels so good! What a relief to spend oneself! Oh, Oh!" He emitted ecstatic sounds which made Claudia envious to think that she had been denied this tremendous pleasure. He lay there exhausted, too tired even to cleanse himself with his handkerchief. Claudia stirred uneasily. She had discovered that when a person of the opposite sex played with your sex organs, you experienced a feeling of rapture entirely different from that when you yourself did the playing. And Claudia longed for experience. She yearned to know and this was her chance to find out part of what she would later learn about the wonderful sensory mechanism which makes life so worth living.
By now Arthur had been appeased. He had cleansed himself and was caressing Claudia with loving hands. Yes, she again told herself, there was a definite difference. When Arthur played with her, the sensation was unmistakable. She again took up the love-play with Arthur, who was growing bolder with the minutes. His left arm encircled her waist and his hand crept slowly up to her breasts. His right hand cautiously stroked her graceful silk-clad limbs. He was so slow, yet the sensual pleasure was thereby intensified a thousandfold. Slowly and slowly his hand worked above her knees, crawling with a spider's touch along her well-fleshed thighs. His hands slid over her skintight silken hose. Gradually his questing fingers slipped across the lips of her vulva, then to her inner thighs and back again. A tremendous feeling of excitement surged up in her. Her breasts heaved and her hips began to rotate gracefully under Arthur's touch. "Go on, Arthur! Don't stop now. Sweet boy! In deeper! Deeper!" She was thrusting upwards to meet his joy-giving finger. Then she had a feeling of pain. She shrank back, but she could not deny herself the maddening pleasure of the genital stimulation. His finger gently sought admittance to the gates of heaven. But her maidenhead was the bar to fulfillment of desire. At last she was nearly driven crazy with alternate inexpressible rapture and rending pain. She looked down and saw a thin stream of blood flowing from between her thighs and she fainted.
When she came to, she saw Arthur's deadly pale, white face over her. He was bathing her temples with a handkerchief soaked in the cool waters of the lake.
"Are you all right, sweetheart?" he asked anxiously.
"Yes," she smiled. "It was only my maidenhead. Thank you for breaking it for me so nicely dear. Now I am really ready for love."
They kissed and Arthur drove her home.
For several weeks after her first introduction into the drama of love, Claudia lived quietly. Her exploit with Arthur had tended to let her down temporarily. She felt cleansed and bereft of the exciting emotions which had until then destroyed her sleep and made of her life a hell. Yes, Claudia was going through a rather dull period in her life-at least for what was to follow; because where Claudia was there would never be any dullness. Arthur called on her a few times, but she felt indisposed toward seeing him. She knew he desired her and would call again. With the healing of her ruptured hymen, however, all the old burning passions were revived. Once more her nights were sleepless and filled with lascivious dreams and longings. These dreams may have satisfied another girl, but not Claudia. She was too sensual and earthy a person, and her father's conservative blood was overbalanced by the hot Latin influence from her mother's side.
So when Arthur telephoned her that he wished to take her to the senior prom, she was more than just willing to go. Somehow, she felt that night would symbolize her freedom. She really did not have much chance to meet Arthur during the regular life in the little town, at least not alone the way they both wanted to. It was too easy to get oneself talked about.
It was the night of the prom and Claudia lay lazily in her bath enveloped in a steaming aura of jasmine bath salts. Jasmine was her favorite scent. She arose and soaped her luscious body. Her fingers touched her intimate organs delicately and she stopped regretfully. Tonight they would be united and caressed in nature's own beautiful way. What right had she to stimulate herself artificially. How could this compare to the actual masculine contact.
She dried herself and studied her figure with customary delight. What loveliness her mirror reflected. Tonight her beauty was doubly precious because it would contribute to Arthur's delight as well as her own. She took the huge powder puff she had recently purchased and dipped it in the daintily scented stuff she used, then ran its feathery touch over her figure. It gave her a luxurious feeling to dust her skin ever so lightly. The puff tickled her caressingly as she worked it carefully between her budlike breasts. She donned a new pair of peach-bloom step-ins with tiny little rosettes on each shoulder. Her breasts swelled the glimmering fabric in a manner to craze any man. No, she told herself, tonight she would not wear a brassiere. She donned her deep decollete evening gown and drew the rhinestone belt tightly about her trim waist. Her hips rounded smoothly and silkily behind her. Her vitally alive and gleaming hair, black like night, was tied in a little knot and it rested on the back of her creamy neck. She knew she looked her best and she was happy and proud. The bell rang and Arthur's handsome face appeared at the foot of the stairs. She came down like a queen, the dress draping itself about her thighs revealingly. Arthur could only stand there, stunned. Claudia smiled. She was beginning to realize the power she held over men.
When they reached the country club where the school dance was being held, things were well in progress. But the chaperones furnished by the faculty put a damper upon the naturally wild spirits of the students. The band blared out "Tiger Rag" and Claudia and Arthur stepped out on the floor. She seemed to dissolve in his arms. They stood in the center of the floor, their arms locked about each other, insensible to the world about them. Suddenly Claudia looked up to see the horrified gaze of old Miss Mehaffy. You crusty old bitch, she thought, you would be a lot more horrified if you knew all the things in life you had let slide. What can you know about how people with red blood in their veins feel? She whispered to Arthur.
"It's all right, honey. We won't stick around this old dump anyway. Here comes Ted now. We're all going out to the Red Mill. Ted and his girl Millie, you and I."
A few moments later they were roaring along the highway toward the notorious Red Mill. Ted drove. It was a large sedan. Claudia and Arthur sat in the back seat wrapped in each other's arms. Ted drove with one arm about Millie and grumbled about having to drive; but he didn't look over his shoulder. Driving with one hand and playing with Millie at the same time was job enough, because Millie was playful.
The wind roared by and the motor droned hypnotically in Claudia's ears as Arthur's lips blended with hers-long, moist, lingering kisses.
Their lips seemed glued. Their bared teeth met and an electric current ran through them. The car came to an abrupt and screeching stop as Ted slammed on the brakes with youthful exuberance. They piled out of the car and were swept into the infamous Red Mill by other seekers of excitement. A myriad of tables covered with red-checked cloths, waiters scurrying to and fro bearing drink-laden trays-red, red, red-the color of love.
They were escorted to a table in a corner from where they had a good view of the dance floor, the size of a postage stamp. Their drinks came and they sat there sipping them, toasting one another and clinking the ice against the glass. The liquor made them amorous. Millie leaned over and her curving young breasts were plain in the reddish light. Claudia saw Ted's face smeared with a look of passion. He was feeling Millie's leg under the table and she pretended to be angry and pushed his hand away-and the Negro band played "St. Louis Blues." With one accord Claudia and Arthur rose to their feet and swung with an old barbaric rhythm that years of pink civilization had failed to atrophy. There they stood, hips weaving-man, woman and desire. The muted trumpets had a silvery sound, the low ceiling seemed to descend even lower, and a fat colored "shouter" was moaning:
"St. Looie woman . . . with her diamond ring, "Got my man tied to her apron-string . . . " Claudia's plump shapely buttocks were thrusting forward to meet Arthur's roll.
The Negro woman shouted, her eyes half-closed, "Oh, sock it!" And they did, nearly delirious with delight. You could have fenced off one square foot of the dance floor because that was all they needed. "Oh, walk it, white folks!" the singer was half singing and half moaning. "Oh, walk it!" And the orchestra swung with every musical beat. They were not too far away from the jungle.
Now Arthur and Claudia were standing nearly still. He could feel her breasts with their points pressing like bayonets against his shirt front. The heat of the place produced an indescribable odor as a slight perspiration broke down the scent Claudia used on her body and the body smell of the fresh, virginal girl combined with the odor of perfume had a most aphrodisiacal effect. He looked down at her and whispered his desire in her ear. She nodded and they danced off the floor to a little stairway leading to the rooms upstairs where for a few dollars they could be alone and attain their hearts' desire.
Arthur made quick arrangements with a wooden-faced waiter and now they stood face to face.
"God," he said. "How I've longed for this moment! And now-now it's here!"
He was almost beside himself. His hands shook with passion. He was on his knees before her, pleading: "You won't let me down this time?"
She smiled down at him. "No, Arthur. I won't let you down."
She slipped off her gown and hung it on a hook and stood revealed in her nude loveliness. Arthur removed his trousers, hesitated a moment, and it seemed to her that all that was real and vital in life hovered like a rock balanced upon a precipice. At last he swept her up in his arms and his face slid down her soft white throat until it sank deep, deep into her fragrant bosom. He could feel her heart flutter like an imprisoned bird. At first he could not rid himself of the feeling of awe she afflicted him with. But now he understood that they were both formed of the same flesh, the same nerves and the same desires. Go easy, he thought; go easy. He ran his fingers up and down her sides like a sculptor modeling in clay. He felt her shudder underneath his touch. His lips thirstily sought the erogenous areas in her body: her lips, her neck, her breasts. He stopped at her lovely breasts and his lips played about the nipples which began to stand erect and to stiffen. He placed his left hand about her shoulders and drew her to him; his right hand had crept up along her legs by easy stages until now his fingers were buried in the jungle-growth of hair which covered her rounded feminine parts. He cunningly sought out the tender lips of her vulva and began to play a heavenly symphony upon them. She moaned and writhed under his touch. Once more she was whispering, "Deeper, oh . . . deeper!" and Arthur made haste to comply with her wish. His finger probed until he had located the clitoris, which by now stood erect and nearly ready for entrance. He felt a moisture and he knew then that she was ready. He placed her hand upon his penis to better enable him to make his way into her sheath.
"Together, darling! We'll ride away together."
And together they guided his throbbing love-stick into her vagina. She began to shake her hips like a hula dancer. He rode above her almost helpless before her furious onslaught. He was like a boat caught in a storm, a bit of wood in a ragtime tide. He held on until she should spend herself. He came first. As the hot flow spurted into her belly she began to moan, "Oh, Arthur! Wait for me! Wait!" and she came just a little later. It was like riding away on an enormous bird under the blue vault of the heavens. So that was what an orgasm was like. She felt as though some great pressure had been released from her brain and she was drifting off into unknown space. She lay flat on her back, as did Arthur, for they were both exhausted by the unaccustomed strain. A delicious feeling of lassitude came over her. She looked down at her body and it seemed to her that it belonged to someone else. With the greatest possible physical effort she turned to look at Arthur and he apparently had turned to stone.
They rested a while and slowly their desire became kindled once more. But now it was more of a languorous play. He held her loosely in his arms and his limp penis rested on her thigh. She took it in her hands and gently manipulated it and it wasn't long before it began to swell once more. It looked red and angry. It reared its head like a snake about to strike; and Arthur's arms began to lock themselves more rigidly about her yielding form.
She lay flat on her back while he mounted over her, supporting himself by his palms. She drew up one knee in order to provide him with an easy ingress. The other leg she spread out. Slowly he brought his prodder into her snug holster, and as it passed through her vagina, scraping the walls with its network of incredibly delicate nerves, a thousand chills shot through her system. She contracted her muscles and alternately seized and released his phallus. He was almost insane with ecstasy. Back and forth they went-a human shuttle. Claudia, with unerring instinct, weaved her hips in perfect accord with every swing and stab Arthur made. They made a beautiful sight there as they utilized perfectly the wonderful organs nature had granted them. Now he plunged his dagger up to the hilt, and for a moment they stayed that way. Then she dug her heels into the hollows behind his knees and strained upward mightily as though she believed he yet held out a tiny fraction of his penis. But he bore into her with everything he possessed. They reached the climax of the sexual union together this time. As the hot sperm jetted into her vagina and her own seminal fluid gushed from her glands to blend with his discharge, it seemed to her that the world had stopped in its orbit, that she had captured for an instant an ecstasy that had been sought since the birth of man. If only she could prolong this indescribable voluptuous sensation. But this is not the way with human physiology, and they separated in a state of blissful exhaustion. Claudia lay back, the love juices overflowing her womb. At last she was able to come out of her nirvanic coma and dry herself with a towel.
She turned to the exhausted Arthur. "Here, dear, let me cleanse you," and she proceeded to wipe the sticky fluid from his drooping penis. Her touch this time did not raise his rod and Claudia learned another thing: that there was a definite limit to masculine endurance. She herself, with her extraordinary passionate sensuality, was almost ready for another bout, but poor Arthur lay supinely on his back. After they were both somewhat recovered, they left the room and returned to their table, but Ted and Millie were not there. Arthur went out to see if the car was gone, but no, it was still parked near the roadhouse. They sat and waited for their companions with knowing smiles.
Time went on and still no sign of Ted or Millie. They began to grow a little worried. Arthur made inquiries from the waiters and discovered that their friends had gone into a little room at the head of the stairs. Claudia and Arthur tiptoed quietly up the softly creaking stairs with no particular plan in mind. They paused outside the door and listened. The protesting creaking of the bedsprings sang lustfully in their ears. There ensued a long, significant silence. The bedsprings had ceased their song of love. But some kind of sexual gratification was taking place because the sound of Millie's voice moaning feverishly assailed their ears. It had a profound effect upon Claudia, like the scent of a mare to a stallion. They were doing something there that was different than anything she had ever experienced. She was bursting to know just what it was. A chair stood at one end of the hall and it was but the work of a moment to place it before the locked door and use it to look through the small transom down into the room.
With fast beating heart, Claudia stepped on the chair and looked down. She would never forget this sight. It would remain in her consciousness forever as the embodiment of sexual gratification. Millie lay vertically across the bed, her legs hanging down and her head pointed toward where Claudia gazed through the transom. Claudia could see her lips working spasmodically and a pulse seemed to throb agitatedly in her throat. But Claudia nearly fell from her improvised perch when she saw there on his knees, face buried between Millie's shapely, pink-tinted thighs-Ted! His head bobbed back and forth like a cork in water. For the moment Claudia could not make out what he was doing, but only for a moment. Millie began to moan again, devoured in the conflagration of sex.
"Oh, Teddy, your tongue is like a flame! Like a snake when it strikes! Oh! Oh! Take the corners, angel! It's too much delight! Deeper!" And she wriggled from side to side. Ted's head followed her as though he had been grafted between her legs. "Faster! Faster, Teddy, I'm blowing! I'm blowing! Ah! Oh-h-h!" and her voice thinned away as she shook convulsively during her orgasm.
Arthur was looking up impatiently. "What are they doing, Claudia? What are they doing now?" he asked urgently, tugging at her.
"Nothing, dear," Claudia replied. Womanlike, she wanted to possess a superior knowledge in sex matters. She knew something now that Arthur probably was ignorant of and it might be easier for her to bend him to her will if she so desired. Millie and Ted were donning their garments and when they came downstairs Claudia and Arthur were quietly seated at their table.
When Claudia got home that night, she did a little thinking. There must be something the matter with her. She was certain of that. She had undergone two pretty thorough sexual experiences within a short space of one another and she still had an inner hankering, a yearning. In short, Claudia was not sexually satisfied after having gone through what would have exhausted any normal woman. She still felt a fever running through her veins which threatened to devour and engulf her.
Her advance to a woman's estate changed Claudia's outlook. Many things which she had previously noticed now took on a new significance. Flashy, overdressed women in the streets with their dawdling sexual walk and their occasional fleeting glances over their shoulders to see if they had attracted a follower, now were closer to her. Before her own experience she had never given this side of life another thought. She took to reading Freud and his theory of the "libido": that sex was the motivating power, the real and fundamental reason for the major portion of man's acts. Claudia was progressing.
She continued her liaisons with Arthur and she drained the virility from him. "My God! Claudia," he would say to her. "Are you never satisfied?" She resolved in some manner to work upon him indirectly and bend him to her desire. She would build him up to the point where he would go down on her like Ted had on Millie. He could offer her as yet nothing but the conventional methods of sexual gratification, and to Claudia at present, that was thrilling enough. But she resolved to utilize Arthur as her guinea pig. She was not quite ready to dispense with him in her quest for Eros; but when she would be, she would discard him as she did a used sanitary napkin.
She maneuvered Arthur carefully. Perhaps back in her head lay the idea that she would learn the general things about men from one particular man. She began to exercise more control over herself. She put Arthur off night after night until he was nearly insane with desire for her and to tell the truth she for him. But she realized clearly that by withholding herself she thereby increased her power. Claudia had not yet learned of Thais and other great courtesans; but she was gaining a great feminine and realistic grasp of sexual psychology. Claudia was still sixteen, but only arithmetically.
She compelled Arthur to take her to motion picture shows and other public places where she would be protected from him as well as herself. As for poor Arthur, he could not understand the change that had taken place in her. He was not gifted enough imaginatively to follow her intricate mental processes. He reasoned obviously enough that she had surrendered herself to him completely and with the utmost abandon, therefore she would be his whenever he crooked his finger. He did not possess the requisite subtlety indispensable to the consummate lover.
He would sit puzzled and frustrated in the gloomy sanctuary of the motion picture theatre and finger the girl-woman who was fast becoming a stranger to him. She would repulse his advances gently until his feelings were in a terrible state. No Tantulus tempted by the heaped delicacies just beyond reach of hungry out-stretched hands ever suffered more keenly. He did not comprehend that he was just the tool of a clever girl; a child, in fact.
One night Claudia consented to go for a drive out in the country; Arthur was almost beside himself with joy. It was a lovely night, and when they drew up near the little lake, the scene of their first tryst and the site of Claudia's defloration, Arthur spoke to her:
"Claudia, what's got into you? I can remember a time when you weren't so cold to me. What has happened? Is there anyone else?"
Claudia ran her cool soft hand over his flushed, troubled face. "There is no one but you, Arthur, dear."
He was happy and he crushed her to him. She knew she was safe so long as she remained in the car. Her head reeled and she felt giddy under the avalanche of kisses he rained upon her. The closeness of the passionate male!
She pillowed his head upon her fresh yielding bosom and held him tight, running her fingers gently over his dry, feverish lips. Tonight she would compel Arthur to bury his face deep into the seat of her sex. She thrilled at the thought. Life was to hold no secrets for her, at least not for long.
Arthur's hand was beginning to glide sinuously along her thighs; his head still rested upon her breasts. She drew him down lower and lower. He was so carried away by the burning, silk-like feel of her flesh that he did not grasp what was taking place. Now his fingers crept along until they were imbedded in the sensitive forest growth of hair which grew around her female orifice. Now like antennae his fingers searched out the liplike folds of her vulva and he stroked it gently back and forth; his other hand clasped Claudia about her slender waist. She held his head firmly between both hands and kept pushing him down lower and lower until he lay upon the floor of the car, his head resting against her thigh. She pulled him to her, pressing his face deep and hard against where her legs joined together to form their glorious V. He tried to speak but his voice was muffled by her sweet strength. He was trying to lift her skirt and she released him for a split second so that he could reveal her treasure. When he had done so, once more with irresistible power she drew him to her until his face was buried deep in her femininity, as though he was smelling a bowl of roses. He was on his knees now and if he had any notion of resisting, he was beyond human aid; he was carried away by the power of age-old emotions which lie dormant until some urgency electrifies them into life. His tongue darted in and out of her vagina which opened under the stimulus like a flower unfolding its petals to the sun. Tremors ran through her, shaking her to her soul. She clenched her teeth together to keep from crying out. Her long, tapered fingers were transformed into claws which found a hold on his hair while his tongue, like a delicate instrument, probed hitherto unsounded depths. Her rigid fingers slid to the nape of his neck and her nails drove into his flesh, but Arthur in his mad frenzy was beyond extraneous feeling. The seat of the car seemed too small a space for her to confine herself. Her body undulated slightly; her hips pivoted as though she were a sphere spun on an axis. She began to spurt within and an indescribably delicious sensation permeated her body. Claudia felt as though she had captured all the rapture the world had to offer. Again her excretion ebbed and flowed like a tide as Arthur's draining lips were glued to her pouch. She could not restrain herself any longer.
"Quicker, Arthur, quicker! Oh, suck me!"
The climax came and it seemed to Claudia that anything that had ever been pent up in her life had now been released. She experienced a glorious sensation of escape and freedom. Her mind and body seemed to become separate entities soaring away from each other, off into unknown and uncharted space. Arthur fell away to the floor, exhausted, having spent in his trousers.
Claudia had added another triumph in her quest for sexual expression . . .
That she had undergone some sort of outward change was quite apparent to Claudia's friends. Her mother sometimes eyed her with a peculiar expression; her father would glance at her carelessly and remark that his little girl was growing up and indeed Claudia was.
School had become hopelessly boring and stupid to this new Claudia. She contemplated the dull earnest faces about her with blas‚ eyes. She had been like that once, but that was long ago. Now she was equipped with knowledge that you couldn't find in school books-knowledge which was far more important and certainly vastly more satisfying than anything one would be apt to find between the covers of some musty old volume.
She had finally been forced to drop Arthur because people were beginning to talk and besides he had been too dull to keep pace with her own bright mind. Claudia was looking for new pastures to graze in, and the desired pasture was supplied by the hated and despised school. Venerable Mr. Gillingham, the white-haired history teacher, had been forced to retire because of illness and a new instructor was coming from the state college. Rumors flew about with the speed of homing pigeons winging to their nests. He was tall and handsome and had wavy hair. He had been an Ail-American football hero at State. Claudia gave little heed to these idle rumors. Her interests were no longer centered about school. She was already considering asking her father's permission to drop out. But then came a certain Tuesday when Claudia stopped looking out of the window to rest her eyes upon the teacher's desk. There sat a wide-shouldered young man dressed in a well-tailored blue suit. His wavy blond hair was carelessly rumpled. Level eyebrows nearly met above the bridge of his classic nose. His blue eyes were rather cold and stern. That this man would be hard to handle was her first impression.
"I'm your new instructor," he told them in his deep, vibrant, masculine voice.
Claudia gazed at him with new interest. This was a man! All the girls were wild about Mr. Thomas from the first. Tommy Thomas! His exploits were almost legendary. During his college days he had nearly eloped with an heiress to a fabulous fortune made in the sugar industry. The papers had been full of the story, and now he was teaching history; but only temporarily, they understood, because the university was soon to send him upon a historical exploration.
The history class was swelled with newborn interest. The girls were awed and could barely recite when called upon. Mr. Thomas maintained a kind of romantic aloofness which became him well. Claudia made no special effort to attract his attention. She had more subtlety.
One day Mr. Thomas decided to revise the seating arrangements. This put Claudia in the first seat on the outside row to the right of Mr. Thomas' desk. Late that day, as Claudia sat somewhat negligently in her seat, she looked up suddenly and happened to catch Mr. Thomas' eye upon her with a peculiarly ardent expression. Until then Claudia had entertained none of the typically romantic girlish notions of her companions. Though she had progressed far beyond any of her classmates in the mysteries of life, she still thought of such a mature and strong man with a little awe. It had not occurred to her until that instant that, large or small, old or young, rich or poor, stupid or intellectual, the physically normal man would respond pretty much the same to female provocation. Claudia made her plans accordingly. She set out to win Mr. Thomas.
Claudia prevailed upon her mother to allow her to purchase for herself the finest and sheerest silk hose the town afforded. She wore the most daring and alluring clothes and the daintiest and scantiest of underclothing. Her mother grumbled, but Claudia was an only child, and her slightest whims were gratified. Her father twitted her as though she were engaged in a puppy-love affair with some callow youth of the town. Claudia would practice before her mirror for hours: learning to walk with a graceful hip-swinging stride; she would watch her posture as she sat, how her legs appeared when she crossed their slim loveliness; how to reveal just a bit of intriguing lacy lingerie. She was going to make herself technically perfect at the love-game. She went about her business like an accomplished and conscientious actress perfecting herself in some new and entirely different role. Her efforts bore fruit.
Mr. Thomas had decided to conduct an essay contest among his class. There were to be two winners, both of these were to be rewarded by being treated to a Shakespearean performance given during the same week at the local auditorium by a famous repertory company. The subject for the essay was optional, just so it dealt with a famous historical personality. Claudia wrote her essay around Catherine the Great, ever to her one of the most glamorous figures in history. She wrote her paper carefully and well. Her natural interest in this exceptional woman led to an unusual study. Claudia and a slender, owl-eyed youth won the prizes. Mr. Thomas did not, however, read Claudia's paper to the class. When the session was ended the following day he asked her to see him. Claudia waited until the others had gone: she stood near Mr. Thomas' desk.
"Sit down, please," he told her. He studied her out of puzzled eyes; in his hand he held her paper. In blue pencil he had underscored certain words and phrases. He began rather uncertainly:
"Frankly, Miss Claudia, I really don't know what to say. I've seldom read stuff like this in the works of the most mature biographers, let alone in an essay by a child."
Claudia flushed. "I'm not a child," she pouted.
Mr. Thomas smiled. "Yes you are, and a particularly lovely child."
Claudia was irked. This was not what she wanted. It would not do for him to carry the impression that she was a child. She knew that a first impression was a stubborn one and hard to erase. She had to startle him and bring him to his senses, to the realization that she was a competent and desirable lovemate.
"Catherine was a woman of super-abundant vitality. Freud says in his book that the sexual urge manifests . . . "
Mr. Thomas cut her off, his face suffused with a rising tide of color. Claudia smiled. It would not matter what he said or did. She had made herself felt as a vital feminine personality. Let him sleep on that.
In the days that followed, Claudia developed the trick of watching Mr. Thomas' face in the mirror of her purse. Her silken-sheathed limbs held him entranced as he stared at her with troubled eyes. Below the desk, Claudia would gradually raise her skirts over her rounded limbs until her rolled hose would show, and the dazzling white flesh of her thighs hinting at the promised land beyond. Mr. Thomas' eyes grew parched and what Claudia saw in her mirror confirmed her faith and confidence in her personal charms.
Mr. Thomas told the two winners of the essay contest that he would call for them in his car Friday night and he told Claudia if she wished she could avail herself of a chaperone -possibly her mother. Claudia smiled inwardly. How stupid men were and what dishonest and evasive measures they habitually used to attain their ends. Claudia waited for Friday to finish the snail-like progress of the school week. Life was once more looking up.