Stray Wives And Young Boys
by Jack Preston


INTRODUCTION 

No man can genuinely understand the American woman unless he understands her 
needs and desires. Therefore, a man must ever be cognizant of the newest 
sexual trends and fads among American women. In this effort to educate the 
American male, I have taken on the assignment to research the newest booming 
sexual fad among American women in their twenties and older. 

More and more women are having sex with young boys. The facts and statistics 
are undeniable. As the American woman becomes increasingly liberated in 
these permissive 1970's, she seeks newer sexual thrills and newer 
challenges. Obviously, she finds these thrills and challenges by seducing 
young boys. 

Before presenting to the reader five documented case histories of women who 
have described in the most intimate detail their relations with young boys, 
I'd like to present a typical example of the type of woman I'm referring to. 

A woman came to my office in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania eight months ago. As 
a psycho-sexual researcher for many years, I was in the custom of having 
women come to me to discuss their most intimate sexual habits and problems. 

This woman, whom I'll refer to here as Mrs. L. was the woman who prompted my 
thorough investigation of the pedophiliac rage spreading through American 
women today. 

Mrs. L. admitted that she was happily married and had two children. Mrs. L. 
was thirty-years-old and had experimented with many men before marrying. But 
now, whenever she saw young boys in the age range of twelve to fourteen on 
the street, she had a compulsive urge to have sex with them. 

"I've done it many times," she said to me as she drew me for the first time 
into a thorough discussion of "what women want today," as she described it. 
She told me how it was her practice to find young boys after school got out 
and get them in and out of her house before her husband got home from the 
factory at 5:30. 

"Are these youngsters good lovers?" I asked her. 

"Good?" she asked. "You've got to be kidding. They're great! That's why 
almost all the women in my neighborhood are getting deep into sleeping with 
young boys. Our husbands just can't keep pace." 

"Aren't the youngsters inexperienced?" I asked. 

"The virgin ones are the best," Mrs. L. countered. "A woman gets a motherly 
thrill out of teaching a young virgin boy just where to put his whang." 

Through a discussion with Mrs. L. I became intrigued with this trend among 
American woman. Mrs. L. said while it was very quiet, it was equally 
widespread. So I set out to interview over a hundred women at my 
Philadelphia clinic. And the results, I must confess to the married men who 
read this, are shocking. 

Every day while husbands are at work, wives and unmarried older women are 
seducing young boys. In the large cities it's almost standard procedure. In 
the suburbs its discreet and quiet. In the small towns the practice is just 
beginning to make ripples in many peaceful households. 

Why do the women do it? What does it feel like for a young inexperienced boy 
to be on top of them? It is not my place to answer these questions. These 
five women, whose interviews I selected from over a hundred available, will 
tell you far better than I could. That's why these candid, frank, and blunt 
interviews have been chosen for this volume. 

I'll add only one more word before the reader goes on to study these five 
women and familiarize himself with the undeniable trend among women today: 
If I were a husband who was away from the house all day, I'd be worried. 
There's not a woman in America who secretly doesn't want to at least "try" a 
young boy. 

 CASE HISTORY ONE 

It quickly became apparent to me as I researched how and why women in their 
twenties and thirties seduce younger boys, that human beings often cannot 
resist what they see and what they want. 

It was this failure to resist sexual temptation that caused many women to go 
the route of having young boys as lovers. But it was never so clear as in 
the case of Mrs. Molly D. an attractive thirty-one-year-old woman from one 
of the plush suburbs outside of Philadelphia. 

"I ... I had never done anything like this before," Mrs. D. said to me when 
she came to my offices and told me about her seduction of twelve-year-old 
Herbie W. "It was really a spur of the moment thing." 

"You didn't decide to have sex with a young boy until you saw young Herbie?" 
I asked. "Is that what you mean?" 

"Sort of, doctor," she said to me. "I have children of my own. I even have 
an eight-year-old boy. I've never thought of the kids in a sexual way. But 
then I saw Herbie's penis and-" 

"You saw the boy's penis?" I asked. "The first time you saw the boy you saw 
his penis." 

She nodded. Mrs. D. seemed to be riddled with an unhealthy amount of guilt 
as she began to discuss her problems with me. 

"It wasn't any accident," she said. "I wanted to see it. The first time I 
saw that young boy I found him so attractive that I wanted to see his cubes 
and his trouser snake." 

"So you seduced him?" I asked. 

"Eventually, yes," she said. "But first I had to peep on him. You know, I 
spied until I saw his whang." 

"Would you describe the incident?" I asked. "If you could tell me all the 
circumstances as frankly as possible I'll be able to better understand your 
situation." 

Mrs. D. cleared her throat and readied herself to begin. I studied her and 
found her to be a very attractive and youthful woman for her age. As she lay 
back on my interviewing couch I could see that her long tan firm legs were 
crossed beneath a modest knee-length skirt and her blouse, although 
revealing that she did have attractive and sizeable breasts, did not pull as 
tight as the blouses of many of the women who came to see me. 

I wanted to know, however, all the details of her seduction. Mrs. D. had 
come to my office complaining that she was on a compulsive spree of seducing 
all the young boys she possibly could. She herself wanted to know why. She 
wanted to control her desires and channel them in a way that would not 
eventually lead her into trouble. 

Bearing this in mind, I listened as Mrs. D. began her odd tale of 
seduction.... 

...I had lived in our suburban neighborhood for ten years, doctor, and I'd 
watched a lot of children come and go. Throughout all those years, I'd 
always lived in the same house. 

It's a nice big house and it's in a nice neighborhood. Frankly, doctor, my 
husband makes well over thirty thousand dollars a year so we can afford all 
of life's luxuries. 

I come from a well-to-do family, doctor. When I was a little girl I always 
got what I wanted. When I was in high school and college I always managed to 
get into bed with the best looking men with the biggest and most satisfying 
penises. So throughout my life I'd always been able to have whatever I 
wanted. I don't want to try to analyze myself, but I guess it might seem 
that since I had a habit of always getting what I wanted I naturally 
couldn't turn down something else I wanted-young Herbie ... in my bed. 

I said it was a nice neighborhood that I live in. It is. It's a very nice 
neighborhood and the people who live there are exceptionally nice, too. like 
Mrs. Watson who lives next door. She's a woman in her mid thirties. She has 
also been my best friend for the last ten years. And, I guess this is the 
most important thing about her, she's also Herbie's mother. 

Little Herbie had gone away to camp last summer. He had been away for six 
whole weeks, the longest he'd ever been away from home. And it just happened 
that on the day after he returned home at the end of the summer, I was over 
at Mrs. Watson's house. 

"You won't believe how little Herbie has grown over the summer," said Mrs. 
Watson, whom I call Beth. "My young boy is becoming a young man." 

I was just about to ask her just what she meant by that when Herbie strolled 
into the room. Then I knew what she meant. Herbie had grown! 

Herbie, you see, was wearing a little white tee shirt and a pair of last 
years green shorts. The shorts, since he'd grown so much over the summer, 
were now too short for him. They were too short and too tight. When he 
walked into that room I could see the complete outline of his balls and his 
penis as it was tucked beneath the fly of those tight little green shorts. 

"Herbie!" his mother barked at him when he came into that room. "Those 
shorts are an absolute disgrace." 

He stood there with his bare feet and his strong tan young legs bulging 
beneath those shorts. He looked down at his green shorts and his crotch. 
"Why, mom?" he asked. "They're clean." 

"They're clean," she agreed haughtily, "but they're much too tight. Why, 
Herbie, they embarrass a woman!" 

Shit, doctor, those tight green shorts that Herbie had weren't embarrassing 
me. They were turning me on instead. I could feel a feeling of warmth, 
wetness and urgency forming down inside my crack. 

"Gosh, mom," Herbie said to Beth Watson. "I don't see what's wrong with 
them." 

"You go right upstairs and change!" Herbie's mother said adamantly. "Right 
this minute!" 

Herbie obeyed his mother. He hung his head and started up the stairs as I 
watched his little hard buttocks rolling with muscles underneath those tight 
shorts. 

"Herbie just doesn't understand that he's become a little man," said his 
mother. "My goodness! The sight of those tightly packed genitals underneath 
that crotch is enough to get a certain kind of woman very excited. I think 
you know what I mean," she said. 

"I nodded. "There is a certain type of woman who goes for that type of 
thing," I agreed. 

Beth and I talked for a few minutes as Herbie had disappeared up to his 
room. Then, in a stroke of luck that changed my whole sexual life, Beth 
suddenly slapped her forehead. 

"My god!" she exclaimed. "I completely forgot to get my husband's laundry 
from the cleaners." 

"Do you have to go get it now?" I asked hopefully. 

"I sure do," she said, getting up and looking around the room for her car 
keys. "Do you want to come with me? You don't have to. You can stay here and 
I'll be back in about half an hour." 

I thought of being left alone in that house with young Herbie. I liked the 
idea. I knew I wouldn't be able to resist temptation, though, but then again 
I didn't want to. 

"How about if I stay right here?" I said. "I'll just read until you get 
back." 

Beth agreed. And I stayed there in that living room chair sipping a cup of 
tea until I heard Beth's car roll out of the driveway. Then I looked at the 
staircase that Herbie had gone up. I put down my cup of tea and walked 
toward it. Then I headed upstairs to Herbie's room. My pussy was tingling by 
now. I knew what I wanted. I just had to see if I'd be able to get it. 

I could hear Herbie in his room. I walked to his door. I looked in. He was 
sitting on the bed. He had taken off that little white tee-shirt, but he 
still had those tight little green shorts on. "Well," I figured, "his mother 
has asked him to take those shorts off. I'll just make sure that Herbie does 
what his mom wanted." 

I knocked on the door. Herbie looked up. 

"Mrs. D.-! " he exclaimed. 

"It's all right, Herbie," I said as I slowly entered the room and closed the 
door partially behind me. 

He stood up from where he'd been sitting on the bed. How my pussy was 
watering over that youngster. All he had on that tan young body of his was 
those shorts. I could see those firm young muscles rippling across his flat 
strong stomach and those sturdy brown legs. 

"But, Mrs. D-, " he said. "I have to change!" 

"Yes, Herbie," I said as I came into that room and walked right over to 
where he was standing. "I know you do. But I came up to find out if you knew 
why you have to change." 

"Why I have to change?" he repeated. The boy seemed very confused. 

I nodded. "Do you know why your mother wants those shorts off you?" I asked. 

He shook his head. 

"It's because they excite grown women," I explained. 

"They do?" he asked naively. "How." 

"I think the answer's obvious, Herbie," I said. I pointed down to his nuts. 
"You mean...?" 

"That's right, Herbie," I said slowly to the boy. "You have a very handsome 
set of male tools." 

"Gosh," he said. His young face was getting red. 

"Do you know what the mere sight of tools like that can do to a woman?" I 
asked. "What?" he countered. 

"Herbie," I said, "you won't tell your mother on me if I show you what it 
does, will you?" 

He shook his head. But he still seemed shy. 

I reached down below my skirt and raised the skirt up past my panties. 
Herbie's face turned crimson and then white when he saw what I was doing. 

"Mrs. D-, I-" 

"Quiet, Herbie," I said. "You've grown into a young man now. There are 
certain things you should know about!" 

J watched him as he saw my pink silk panties with the tuft of brown hair 
visible underneath. I pulled down those panties to where my crotch was 
completely uncovered. Then I asked Herbie for his hand. 

"My hand?" he repeated. 

"First your hand," I said, "then your gland!" 

He blushed again, but I took his hand in mine, holding it out so that hs 
fingers were straight. I lowered that young uncertain hand of his until it 
was on a level with my bush. Then I drew it between the lips of my vagina. 

"Golly," he moaned. "Golly, I-" 

"Feel the wetness," I said to him. "Feel how wet my pussy has become?" 

He nodded as I worked his hand back and forth in my slot. 

"That's what it does to a woman when she sees nice male tools bulging 
beneath a crotch. It makes her pussy get all wet and soaking," I explained. 

"Golly," he moaned. He was sniffing now. He could smell the juice of my 
desire from where it was flooding my pussy. 

"Now I have to explain something else," I said. "Do you know why a woman's 
pussy gets so wet?" 

He shook his head as I continued to work those fingers of his back and forth 
in my slot. 

"It gets wet so that the penis can glide back and forth within the slot," I 
explained. 

His face was still red. But he nodded. He understood. 

"And," I continued, "it's very rude for a young man to turn on a woman and 
get her all wet and then not satisfy her. Do you understand the implications 
of that?" 

"You want me to ... to satisfy you?" he asked. 

I nodded. "From the looks of things," I said as I glanced down and saw that 
young rod of his bulging beneath his crotch, "it's not going to be difficult 
for you." 

"But, where's mom?" he protested. 

"Your mother went out," I said. "So we'll have all the time we need alone." 

He was very nervous. I had to calm him down because I can remember from when 
I was young that nervous boys can ejaculate prematurely. And I didn't want 
that. I wanted that cock of his to move back and forth inside me until I was 
ready to feel that young boy's semen bursting out of his long one-eyed 
trouser snake. 

I pulled Herbie down and we sat down on the bed in his room. "Undress me," I 
told him. "You undress me and I'll undress you." 

"But-" 

"No 'but's,' " I insisted. "You've only got so many minutes before your 
mother comes back. Do you want her to come up here and catch us screwing?" 

He shook his head. 

"Then get to work," I said. "I'll help by sliding my panties off." 

I slid my panties down my legs and kicked them off my ankles as young 
Herbie's nervous hands unbuttoned my blouse. He opened up the blouse and saw 
my pink bra covering my nice large womanly boobs. 

"The bra unsnaps in the back," I said to him. And Herbie reached around me 
and unhooked my bra. I slid the blouse off and then let the bra slide off 
me. Herbie gave me a long hard look. I could see his cock bulging beneath 
those tight green shorts as he stared at my nipples. 

"See what happens when you bare the breasts?" I said to him. "You see how my 
nipples are getting hard?" 

He nodded. I slid out of my skirt and I was completely naked in front of 
that boy as we sat on the side of the bed. 

"Now, Herbie," I said. "It's time for you to show me what you've got." 

"Golly," he muttered. He was still staring at my breasts and at my tuft of 
brown hair down between my legs. He was a very excited boy. I reached to his 
shorts and unbuttoned the little snap at the waist. 

Then I unzipped the fly. I unzipped it slowly as the boy stared down at his 
own crotch to see how I was uncovering it. His hard young chest was heaving 
in excitement. 

"Herbie," I said, "have you ever played with your peter?" 

"Played with it, ma'am?" he asked. 

"You know what I mean, Herbie," I said to him. "Do you jack off?" 

"Golly," he said slowly. His face was purple in embarrassment now. I was 
loving every minute of it. I pulled that zipper down slowly and watched the 
tuft of pubic hair become suddenly visible down there. 

"Answer my question," I insisted as the zipper went lower and lower. 
"Sometimes," he said. "Often?" I asked. "Just sometimes," he said. "How 
often?" 

I pulled down the zipper all the way suddenly and his great big penis flew 
out of his pants, bursting into full view. 

"A couple of times a week," he said. 

I reached to his big long loaf and started to run my fingers up and downTne 
long base of it, following that big blue vein up and down the shaft. 

"I don't believe it," I said to him. "I think you whack off more often than 
that. A boy with a big tool like yours is going to have to keep it in 
working order." 

"A couple of times a day," he finally admitted. "I have to whack off a 
couple of times a day or else I come in my sleep." 

"My goodness, Herbie!" I said to him. "If you come in your sleep it means 
that you have to have pussy very soon." 

"It does?" he asked. 

"It certainly does. All that semen that you squirt off should be going into 
a woman's pussy, not onto some dirty old sheets." 

I pulled his shorts down completely and that big blue-veined prong of his 
popped up and stared me right in the face. 

"What a handsome penis," I said as I looked at that big long organ and the 
huge pair of hairy nuts that swung freely beneath it. "How would it like a 
little kiss." 

"A kiss?" he gasped. 

I said nothing. I held him by the hips and I slid my wet lips across his 
penis's head. I took the big organ into my mouth and I moved the tip of my 
tongue across the big hole on the tip of his rod. Herbie started to moan 
when he felt it. 

"Oh," he moaned to me as his rod remained rigid in my mouth. "I've never 
felt anything quite that good." 

"There's only one thing in the world that feels better," I said to him as I 
lapped the flat side of my tongue up his rod from the underside. "And that's 
when your long hard rod is immersed in a hot wet pussy. like mine." 

He moaned again as I said that to him. I worked on his penis with my mouth 
and I worked my lips up and down on his long shaft. Then I pushed him 
backward and made him lie out flat on the bed with his rod sticking straight 
up in the air. 

"I only have to ask you one thing," I said to him. 

"What?" 

"Have you whacked off yet today?" I asked. 

"Twice this morning," he said. "While I was taking a hot shower." 

"Well," I said, "if you've whacked off twice already you should be able to 
hold a rod pretty well." 

"Not with all the licking you're giving to it," the youngster moaned. And 
with those words I licked the tip of my wet darting tongue up and down that 
long hard vein on the sensitive underside of his rod. I gave Herbie a 
workout with my tongue that would have made many grown men spurt off right 
between my lips. 

Then as he was lying out flat on his bed I knew it was time for me to go for 
the score. I told him to stay in that flat position and do exactly what I 
said. Herbie said he would. His cock was so hard by now that it must have 
been begging for release. So I decided to give it to him ... in a few 
seconds. 

"There's just one thing you have to do for me first," I told him. 

"What?" 

"A woman-likes to be kissed before she gets fucked," I said. "On the lips." 

He began to reach up to bring his lips to my face. But I pushed him back 
down. 

"Not those lips," I said. "On the pussy lips!" 

"The pussy lips?" he gulped. And I nodded. 

"I'll show you just what I want, Herbie." I told him. 

I straddled his body by bringing one leg across his upper chest. I straddled 
his bare young body with my legs, holding my furry tuft right above his 
chin. Then I directed the youngster to bring his mouth right up to that 
furry tuft and start kissing it. 

He reached up and smacked his lips right on my pubic hair. Then he lowered 
his head again. 

"What kind of childish little boy crap is that?" I asked. 

"What's wrong?" he countered. 

"Haven't you learned to French kiss yet?" I asked. "Don't you know the kind 
of kissing where you poke your tongue between the girl's lips." 

"Golly," said young Herbie. "You mean you do it with those lips, too?" 

I nodded. "Get to work," I said. "Before your mother gets home. I don't dig 
being watched." 

Herbie raised his head and this time he had the right idea. I supported 
myself up there on my knees by leaning with one arm against the wall beside 
his bed. Herbie was a surprisingly good linguist for a beginner. 

He slurped his boyish tongue up and down the length of my crack, probing his 
tongue into my vagina as it drifted by my slot He worked that tongue over 
and over across the length of my pussy lip, only occasionally pausing to 
take a gasp of air. 

The boy wrapped his hands around me and held my buttock cheeks firmly in his 
young hands as he slurped his tongue repeatedly across my crack. I was 
getting increasingly wet down there. And I could feel the orgasms building 
up and getting ready to burst loose. 

"I want you to feel around for a little knob at the peak of my crack," I 
then told him. "That's my clit. I want a few little licks there, Herbie. 
Then we'll be ready to screw." 

I reached around behind my back and held his hard rod in my hand as his 
probing big wet tongue moved up and started to move in a circular motion 
around my clit. 

"Oh, Herbie," I moaned. "Where did you learn to do something like that?" 

"In books," he muttered as my big furry muff muffled his voice. "I read how 
to lick a clit but I've never known what the clit was." 

"Pretty soon," I cooed to him as his tongue worked over my pussy, "you'll 
know what a cunt is, too." 

I let him slurp his tongue upwards on me a few more times. Then I could take 
the pussy torment no more. I pulled my poor soaking muff away from him as he 
still lay flat on the bed and I moved my ass down to where his prong was 
sticking up. He kept his hands on the cheeks of my ass all that time. I felt 
the lower part of my buttocks glide over his huge hard prong. I moved my 
vagina to a spot where it was just above that great big erection of his. 
Then I started to lower my slot down on top of him. 

I felt the huge swollen head of his penis enter me. The boy moaned and I 
gasped. He felt like a big steel railroad spike as he slipped between my 
pussy lips. 

I slowly brought my pussy down on him and the boy moaned again with delight. 
I brought my pussy all the way down and completely enveloped his organ. It 
pushed way back into me and I savored the rich full feeling of being fucked 
by a good hard stick of a delightful young boy. 

I looked down at his young face and his hard young body. His hands were on 
my hips now and I was starting to drive my pussy up and down on that great 
big stick of his. The youngster was smiling broadly and driving his long 
hard prong up to me like a jackhammer. I felt like I was seated on a human 
jackhammer that had gone out of control. My pussy was out of control, too, 
now. I was starting to orgasm. 

My pussy exploded in torrents of long hard pelvic thrusts. I orgasmed all 
over that hard hot rod of his and I kept feeling it getting bigger and 
bigger as it neared the point of ejaculation. 

"Oh, Herbie!" I barked. "You're so big in there! So frigging big!" 

Herbie gave me a big boyish grin and he moved his hands from my hips to my 
tits. He pushed his palms up flat against my breasts and I felt my nipples 
go hard against his palms. I orgasmed again. And then again. And then again 
and again and again. 

His cock was pounding upwards from beneath me and driving me to a frenzied 
peak with all those hard hammering thrusts. I panted and I moaned. And then, 
right in the middle of an orgasm, I heard his mother's car pulling back into 
the driveway. 

"Come!" I urged him. "Come! Your mother's back!" 

I pounded my pussy downward on his whang and started to undulate the walls 
of my vagina, driving the tight walls downward on his cock and occasionally 
enveloping his prong with a vice-like vaginal grip. 

It was more excitement than any male could take, let alone a young boy who 
was getting his first taste of pussy. I felt his cock swell up to its 
longest length yet. Then it exploded. 

I felt his cock spasm and lurch inside my hot wet undulating pussy. I felt 
the long prong spit his hot gobs of seeds all over the inner recesses of my 
pussy, filling me up with long hot gushes of his come. 

I jammed myself up and down on his wet rod, orgasming vigorously until his 
own cock had shot its load and was contracting again. He went limp inside me 
and I heard Beth opening the door downstairs. 

Although I love to sit on a man's penis for several minutes after he's come, 
I had to lift my soaking pussy up immediately and leap off the boy. I could 
hear Beth calling for either Herbie or me. Then as I stood beside Herbie's 
bed and frantically picked up my clothes, Beth started to come up the 
stairs. 

"Herbie? Are you there?" I heard her call. 

All I could do was hustle into the closet holding my clothes. I slammed the 
closet shut behind me and stood perfectly still. I could feel all of 
Herbie's semen gushing from my vagina and starting to flow down my legs. 

His mother walked into that room and saw little Herbie lying flat on his bed 
with a wet flaccid prick. 

"Herbie!" she squealed. "Oh, Herbie, you little perverted beast!" And then 
she ran from the room and ran down the stairs. About an hour later I managed 
to tiptoe out of the house after Herbie kissed me good-bye and thanked me 
for making a man out of him. His mother thought she had caught him beating 
off. And as far as I know, she's never found out the truth.... 

...Mrs. D. ended her story at that point. Since time had almost expired in 
our interview session, I sought to bring our meeting to a conclusion by 
asking a few general questions. 

"Let me ask you this, Mrs. D., " I said. "Who was the last man you'd had sex 
with before having sex with young Herbie?" 

"My husband, doctor," she said. 

"Who was more satisfying?" I asked. 

"Well," she began slowly, trying not to admit the answer we both knew was 
coming, "I'd have to say that I had better orgasms with the boy." 

"Why do you think that was so?" I asked 

"I ... I don't know, doctor. It just seemed to be so much more exciting to 
be there with that naked youngster. I knew he was all young and pure and 
virgin. It was such a great kick to be sitting on a stick that had never 
been in anyone else before." 

"Is that how you feel about the other boys you seduce?" I asked. 

"How do you mean that, doctor?" she replied. 

"Unless I'm mistaken, Mrs. D., " I said, "you mentioned that you have a 
compulsive urge to seduce a steady stream of young boys in the neighborhood. 
Isn't that correct? Isn't that the problem that brought you to my office?" 

"It is," she admitted demurely. 

"Well," I said, following up quickly, "is the thrill that you get when you 
seduce one of those boys the same as the thrill you got the first time you 
seduced Herbie?" 

She paused. "I guess it would have to be," she said. "I mean, doctor, 
there's a certain sexual thrill that I have to have. My husband, as much as 
I love him, doesn't give it to me. But young boys do." 

"Different young boys?" I asked, posing a crucial question to Mrs. D. 

"Different?" she repeated. 

"Did you have sex with Herbie again?" I asked. 

"Yes." 

"Often?" 

"Several times," she replied. 

"And after those several times?" I asked. 

"Well, I ... I found another youngster. A woman has a right to end one 
affair and go on to another." 

"Precisely, Mrs. D., " I said. "That's how I thought you'd feel." 

"I'm afraid I don't understand your line of questioning, doctor," Mrs. D. 
finally said. 

"I'm seeking," I told her calmly, "to determine the origins of the 
compulsive behavior which drives you to seduce young boy after young boy." 

"And?" she asked. 

"And I have a good idea what it is." 

"What is it?" 

I paused and then addressed the attractive young woman very sincerely. 

"It's premature," I said to her, "to attempt an analysis without hearing 
more of the various sexual acts and feats you've had with young boys. Thus, 
before getting to the actual act of analysis, I'd like to hear more. For 
example, I'd like to hear what you might consider to be your most 
spectacular seduction of a young male." 

"Most spectacular?" she repeated, with a smile growing on her face. "There's 
not much doubt about who and when that was. It was with a husky little blond 
boy named Willie who-" 

"I'm anxious to hear about it, Mrs. D., " I said interrupting her, "but not 
at this session. "My assistant, Miss Johnson will be glad to reschedule you 
at a convenient time." 

"I'd love to tell you about it now," Mrs. D. begged. 

I explained to Mrs. D. that I did in fact have another appointment, this one 
with a woman who enjoyed being trampled by her son who would wear nothing 
but spurred cowboy boots during the actual act of trampling. Mrs. D. did 
understand and arranged an appointment one week later. Miss Johnson, my 
secretary and clinical assistant, arranged Mrs. D.'s appointment within my 
schedule. by this time in my interviewing with Mrs. D. it was quite clear 
what her motivation was in seducing young boys. What I had no idea of, 
however, was the lengths she would go to get a young male. This, however, 
became quite clear, quickly in our second interview. 

II 

Mrs. D. returned as scheduled a week later. It was my contention that Mrs. 
D.'s desire to seduce young boys stemmed from a basic boredom within her own 
marriage. It is clear that young boys represent an intense and exciting 
sexuality to many older women and it was my conjecture that Mrs. D. was 
seeking just such excitement and challenge on a sexual level. 

My theories, however, could hardly be based on merely one incident. That's 
why I asked Mrs. D. to return and tell me about another incident, one which 
she would consider most exciting. 

When Mrs. D. returned she was again dressed attractively but conservatively. 
I began the interview by asking a few basic questions about her sexual 
relations with Herbie. 

"Am I right, Mrs. D., " I asked, "in assuming that Herbie was a good young 
partner for as long as the affair lasted? 

"That's very true, doctor," she said. "As I told you last time, Herbie and I 
screwed several times. It wasn't until I began to get bored with him that we 
had to cut things off." 

"Did he have a nice penis?" I asked. 

"The boy had a very nice organ," Mrs. D. recalled fondly. "It fit into my 
slot very snugly. Since you're a man, doctor, you might not be aware of 
this, but some penises feel very snug and comfortable when they're 
inserted." 

"Other women have remarked similarly," I affirmed. "But why do you think 
you're tired of Herbie?" 

She shrugged. "I guess I just wanted some fresh meat," she said. "After all, 
I think any penis would start to bore a woman after a while." 

"So then you seduced other little boys?" I asked watching her reactions 
carefully as I posed my questions. 

"That's right," she said. "In fact, doctor, it wasn't long afterwards that I 
had that 'most spectacular' screw scene that you asked me to tell you 
about." 

"Could you describe it?" I asked. She began.... 

...No woman in her right mind would ever get rid of one man without having 
another to replace him. Well, doctor, it's exactly the same when you want to 
replace one little boy with another. 

When I began to tire of Herbie I began to look around for a replacement. In 
our neighborhood, with all those wealthy little handsome private school 
boys, it's not hard to find a youngster. 

The replacement I selected for Herbie was one of his best friends, little 
Willie Frost. It wasn't hard to seduce young Willie. I asked him to come 
over to my house one afternoon to help me get some crates upstairs from the 
basement. I told Willie that I'd be happy to pay him a dollar an hour for 
his trouble. 

"Oh, boy!" said Willie when he heard that he'd be able to make a few dollars 
on his afternoon off from school. He was very excited. But when he got over 
to my house I opened the door and let him in. 

He immediately saw that I was wearing a very sheer nightgown with nothing 
underneath. Willie, a handsome little thirteen-year-old, could see my hard 
reddish nipples underneath the gown. When he lowered his gaze and directed 
his eyes toward my crotch he could see my gorgeous little tuft of brown 
bush. 

Willie gulped loudly as he looked at me. 

"I ... I guess I better be getting to those crates," he said slowly as he 
eyed me up and down. 

"There are no crates, Willie," I said. "There's just one big box I want you 
to help me with." 

"A box?" he stammered. 

"My box," I said. "The box that you're looking at right now. The one down 
between my legs." 

"I ... I don't underst-" 

"Willie," I said to him, "how would you like to make a big fat ten dollar 
bill for less than an hour's work?" 

"I sure would!" he blurted out. 

"Good," I said. "All you'll have to do is provide me with a little service." 

"Service?" 

"A few good strokes, Willie," I explained. "That's all." 

I showed that boy exactly what I wanted from him. I got down on all fours in 
the living room and I took off that nightgown. I could see his little cock 
bulging beneath his fly so I had him take off his pants. 

"Have you ever seen dogs screwing, Willie?" I asked him. 

He nodded. 

"Well," I said. "That's exactly what I want." 

The boy took down his trousers and his cock bounced right out and stood 
pointing straight up. I told him to get down on his knees behind me. He did. 
And then I wriggled my ass backwards until his prong had skewered my vagina. 
He humped and pumped from the backside until I felt that long hard rod of 
his explode with a good hard boyish gush of semen. 

So that's how I got off fucking little Herbie and got onto fucking Willie. 
But that wasn't really the most spectacular screwing conquest I ever had, 
doctor. The best happened just a few weeks later when I seduced both of the 
Hughes twins. 

Bobby and Jerry Hughes were a couple of good looking twin boys who I found 
out were celebrating their fourteenth birthday that weekend. 

Well, I sent them each a birthday card and told them that if they both came 
by my house at the same time they could get a present from me. 

They both came over to the house two days later. And what cute young fellows 
they were. Both of them were wearing little yellow shirts and blue jeans. As 
soon as I saw them both at the door I invited them in. 

"I know what you're both here for," I said to the brothers as I brought them 
into the den of my house. "You came for your presents. Right?" 

Jerry nodded. Bobby answered. "That's right," he said. 

"Well," I said, "you'll both be very pleased with what I give you today. But 
you have to promise that you'll never tell anyone about it." 

"Golly," said Jerry as he looked at me with those boyish excited big eyes of 
his. "What is it?" 

"I guess you could say," I said to him, "that it's the most valuable gift a 
woman can bestow on a young man ... or a pair of young men." 

"Gosh," mumbled Jerry. 

"Is it that expensive?" asked Bobby. 

"It can be if you have to pay for it," I said. "My husband confessed to me 
that he had to pay for it once. He said he went to a very expensive 'shop' 
where he paid to have this thing for two hours with two girls on a water 
bed. It cost him two hundred dollars." 

"Wow," said the boys. "Did you have to pay that much to get this for us?" 

"No," I explained. "I can provide it for free ... for young men whom I take 
a liking to." 

"And you like us that much?" they asked. 

"I certainly do, boys," I said to those two twin fourteen-year-olds. "Just 
you wait." 

I sat down on a sofa and had both of the boys sit down next to me, one on 
each side. 

"You're getting to be young men," I said to the Hughes twins. "I'll bet you 
wish some of the girls at school would start putting out for you." 

The boys were silent. 

"Putting out for us?" Jerry finally said, asking very hesitantly. 

"Giving you samples of their cunts," I explained. "You know what I mean, 
boys. I'll bet you'd like to get your sticks into a nice warm wet pussy." 

"I guess," said Jerry with a devilish glint in his eyes. 

"Any guy would," Bobby finally conceded. "Wonderful," I exclaimed. "That's 
just what your gift is-pussy. Right here and now." 

"You?" they gasped. 

"Do you see anyone else?" I countered. "Just start undressing me, boys. You 
can keep whatever you find." 

They started to work slowly on me but the pace quickened almost immediately. 
Jerry went to work unfastening the belt around my skirt and Bobby started to 
undo the buttons on my blouse. Bobby opened my blouse and saw that I had 
nothing on underneath. 

I held my chest out so that the boys could get a good glimpse of those big 
jugs of mine. I knew the nipples would be standing up hard by the time they 
got in there. The tits were hard as little stones. The boy's weren't 
disappointed. 

"Look at those big knockers," Bobby moaned to his brother. Both boys peered 
forward for a view. They quickly pulled my blouse off and left me topless. 
Those big breasts of mine fascinated the boys. 

They pawed my big breasts and Bobby even leaned forward to push his lips to 
my right nipple. I held both hands beneath the breast to give him a nice 
supple tit to suck on. As Bobby's boyish mouth worked on my tit, Jerry was 
busy with the other tit. His fingers and palms were exploring the other 
nipple. But soon his other hand was down at my knee. Then it disappeared 
under my skirt. 

Jerry's hand pushed far back beneath my skirt and was soon feeling me up at 
the crotch. As Bobby continued to be a young tit man and didn't move his 
lips from my nipple, Jerry undid the zipper of my skirt and opened the skirt 
completely. 

Off came my skirt Then Jerry pulled down my panties and I wriggled down out 
of them. My bush was uncovered for both the boys to see. But Jerry was the 
one who went for my heaving wet bush, first. 

He ran his hand across the pubic hair as I began to get so excited that my 
entire pussy was bursting forth with juice. Here one boy was working on my 
tit while another was playing with my pussy. What more could any woman ask 
for? 

My pussy was so wet that I had to lie back on that sofa. Bobby leaned back 
with me and started to play with the other tit with his mouth while his 
hands continued to toy with the other nipple. 

Meanwhile, as I spread my legs wide apart, his brother Jerry was starting to 
kiss me right down there inside my thighs. 

Jerry's young mouth pressed right into the soft fleshy skin beneath my pussy 
area. His mouth worked all around the pussy area and I could even feel his 
breath pushing into my vagina. My slot was flooded by now. 

"Boys," I insisted. "You have to get your clothes off this minute. Right now 
I want to see those hard little penises all bare." 

Jerry and Bobby quickly pulled their shirts up off over their heads and 
tossed the shirts away. Then down came their jeans. Each was wearing a pair 
of white cotton briefs under those jeans, and each pair of briefs was 
bulging at the crotch with the big instruments that each boy was just dying 
to let loose with. 

Down came Jerry's briefs. At precisely the same moment Bobby pulled his 
down. Out flashed the big members that each of the brothers was equipped 
with. 

"What sexy young men you are!" I cooed as I saw those big penises flash out 
and point toward me. "What a powerful pair of brothers you are. The girls in 
your schools are sure going to put out easy for you." 

I leaned forward and took Jerry's loins right before my face. I sucked his 
penis into my mouth and worked on it with my warm moving lips. I could feel 
his hard rod stiffen in my mouth and I concentrated on working my tongue 
across the sensitive little spot right beneath the hard head of his penis. 

Then I released his dick from my mouth. "Back down to the pussy, Jerry. You 
just continue exactly what you were doing." 

Jerry went back down to my crotch as I held my long lean legs wide apart. 
Jerry pushed his young head right between my legs. The next thing I knew he 
was licking me. 

"Oh, Jerry, yes," I moaned. I was trying to take his brother's penis into my 
mouth, but Jerry was being a terrible distraction. His tongue was slurping 
up and down the length of my vagina, tickling all the sensitive spots along 
the lips of my snatch. Then, just when I was getting used to that, he thrust 
that long tongue of his right into my vagina and started to twist his tongue 
around. 

I moaned and I panted. And as Bobby pushed his hands to my hard big nipples, 
I managed to take Bobby's penis between my wet lips. 

As young Bobby Hughes's penis swelled up in my mouth his brother's tongue 
worked over my entire pussy. The tip of that tongue toyed with my clit and 
darted up and down those vaginal lips. Bobby's hands tickled my tits and I 
managed to swish my own tongue all over Bobby's whang. 

Then I felt Jerry's hands on my inside thighs again. He pushed my two long 
legs as far apart as he could and then the young boy pulled his face back 
from where it was parked in my muff. 

"Jerry," I panted. "Jerry, please!" 

I wanted something back in my cunt. His tongue had turned me on terribly and 
I had to have something inside me to fill me up. 

He fumbled around down there as I continued to roll my ass on that cot. I 
looked down. He was getting ready to mount me. His long prong was pointing 
out from his crotch and was headed right into my wet, hairy slot. 

"Oh, Jerry, yes!" I squealed. And as I let go of Bobby's penis, Jerry was 
fully upon me. I arched up my ass as the boy brought his loins down right 
between my legs. 

I felt his penis as it slid between the lips of my vagina with all its 
hardness. He assumed a weird position down there, half mounting and half 
squatting. He sat sort of yoga style with his penis slipping way back into 
me. 

"Oh, Jerry," I moaned. "You reach so far back into me that way." 

He wiggled his penis within me and looked down at my huge heaving boobs. The 
nipples were hard and erect, just like his big fat rod. 

But as he looked down on me, his brother got tired of being left out of the 
action. Bobby crawled up on that bed and I saw how similar the two twins' 
penises were. But with Jerry's cock throbbing back and forth inside me I 
couldn't be too concerned with Bobby's rod. Not yet. The trouble was that 
Bobby was very involved with my breasts. 

As Jerry continued to fuck me in that odd yoga position of his, Bobby 
assumed a comfortable place beside me on that sofa and leaned over me. First 
he rubbed the underside of his prick directly across my right nipple. Then, 
after teasing his cock with my hard tit, he moved back and started to lower 
his face down to my nipples. He cupped his hands around the right tit and 
pressed his lips to the nipple. Then he started to suck. 

And, doctor, I mean he sucked! I felt like my boob was being milked. With 
one brother working on my nipple and the other playing with my cunt by 
pressing his cock in and out of it, there was nothing else a normal woman 
like me could do except start to orgasm. 

My pussy started to thrust back and forth on Jerry's rod. I wrapped one arm 
around Bobby's head and I clutched his hard big penis with the other hand, 
moving my thumb and forefingers briskly up and down his shaft. Bobby was 
moaning as I stroked his cock with my hand. Or was it Jerry who was moaning? 
In any case, doctor, I sure do know that I was moaning. 

Jerry's penis kept driving in and out of me and pushing deep back into my 
vagina. Then, and I don't know what gave him this idea, Jerry reached down 
to my vagina and pressed his hard little forefinger right against my clit. 

It drove me batshit, doctor, to have my clit pressed while I was getting 
fucked and having my tit sucked. I orgasmed again and again and I felt 
Bobby's firm lips on my hard nipple. 

Jerry's whang grew bigger and bigger as I wrapped my legs around that boy's 
waist. His penis was pressed tightly inside me now and was sliding briskly 
back and forth. I still orgasmed hard. But I knew Jerry's young rod wouldn't 
be able to stand this kind of excitement for long. 

His cock pressed to his deepest penetration yet and then it erupted. I 
looked at the boys' faces as I felt Jerry's penis spitting its hot load of 
seeds deep into my pussy. The boys looked so much alike. I was such a lucky 
woman to be getting it from not one but two handsome youngsters. 

Why was I so lucky? You'll see. 

As Jerry's cock spasmed and spit all its juice into me, I wriggled my legs 
and undulated the walls of my pussy, drawing every drop out of that big 
thick whang of his. I felt the warm wetness of his load shoot way deep down 
into my box and I continued to wriggle as I savored the warm womanly glow of 
having a man's hot spermy load way down within my most womanly spot. 

His prick shot out a good eight or nine hard shots before it dribbled to a 
halt. But the last thrust of his cock had initiated a final orgasm down 
within my pussy, and that orgasm hadn't been pounded out to its conclusion 
when the tired boy withdrew his cock from me. 

"Oooh, Jerry," I cooed to him. "I need something in there a little more." 

I don't know what I was thinking of when I said that to him. The solution to 
my problem, of course, was right at my elbow. His brother's cock! 

"It's my turn," Bobby yelped gleefully as he eyed the slick wet pussy that 
his brother had just vacated. And Jerry, like a good brother, moved to one 
side on that crowded sofa as his brother mounted me and moved into position. 

I said before that I thought I was a lucky woman, doctor. Well, that's why. 
As soon as one boy was finished with me I had his brother to pick up right 
where the first boy had left off. 

I held those legs open and Bobby thrust his hard pointed dick right into me. 
I felt the head of his hard rod poke through the tormented wet lips of my 
pussy. Then I felt him gliding into me. One inch! The head was in! Three 
inches! The big hard shaft was on its way home. Then five inches! Then the 
full seven! These boys were young but they sure were hung! 

Bobby, whom I thought was merely a tit man, was very aggressive once he had 
my pussy to himself. His rod was long and hard and he drove it in and out of 
me with a relentless pistoning action. My pussy started to spasm again and 
the next thing I knew it was alive with orgasms again. 

Bobby pounded his cock back and forth inside me and really moved me way up 
into the heights of orgasmic ecstasy. My cunt spasmed and blasted as his rod 
moved in and out. He lay completely forward on me and I arched up my ass 
again and wrapped my long legs completely around him, drawing my boy lover's 
prick as far into my slot as it could go. 

Jerry stretched out right next to me and panted for his breath. But he lay 
out in the inverted position. His head was down near his brother's knees and 
his wet slick dork was practically hanging in my face. 

Well, doctor, why not have two penises inside you instead of just one. To 
reward Jerry for giving me such a nice screw to start things off with, I 
moved my head to his crotch. I gathered his wet whang in my mouth and tasted 
the crud from his dork and my cunt on it. But I started to lick his whang 
with my tongue and wash it in my mouth as his brother moved his cock in and 
out of me. 

Bobby's penis had been played with extensively before it entered me. Thus 
the boy couldn't hold his load for long. But he held it hard inside me just 
long enough to satisfy the final few horny itches that his twin brother had 
left behind. Bobby's penis exploded in orgasm a few short minutes later, 
gushing his come into my wet vibrating slot where it joined all the sperms 
that his brother had shot off a few minutes earlier He came just in time, 
doctor. Jerry's rod was starting to get hard again in my mouth. I didn't 
have the physical stamina to fuck both of them again. Hell, if they'd 
knocked me up I would have had to name half the Hughes family in the 
paternity suit.... 

...Mrs. D. brought her story to a conclusion with those words. She then 
paused and added a final quip. "Well, doctor," she said. "Is that 
spectacular enough for you?" 

I smiled. "The question, Mrs. D., " I said, "is whether or not your tryst 
with the Huges twins was spectacular enough for you. 

"It sure was," she said. "I'd say it was the best time I'd ever had 
screwing." 

"Did you ever have sex with either of the boys again?" I asked, seeking to 
move the interview toward a conclusion. 

"Either?" she said. "I screwed both of them again several times. I fucked 
them separately and I screwed them both at the same time again. I wasn't 
choosey, I was just out for some good boyish fun." 

"I see," I said, "you sought to virtually re-enact this original experience 
with the boys. Is that right?" 

"Yes," she nodded. 

"But it was never quite as good again?" I pressed. 

"I guess you could say that," she admitted. 

"Just as I suspected," I noted calmly. "Even though you enjoyed these boys 
you were eventually compelled to move on to other young males." 

"Yes," she admitted. "I guess less than two weeks later I'd seduced little 
Artie Keller. Then there was young Jamie Simpson and-" 

"I think we've proven my point, Mrs. D." I said. "I think we've found your 
problem." 

"Have we?" she asked. 

"Just one final question," I said, "then we'll discuss it. Did you feel any 
emotion toward the Hughes twins? Or for that matter, for any of the boys you 
seduced?" 

"Well," she said as she pondered the question for a moment, "I wouldn't want 
to hurt them or harm them or anything. But let's face it, doc, I'm a woman 
with very intense needs and desires. The boys were sex objects to me. Just 
as most men are to most women. Isn't that normal?" 

"Common, Mrs. D., " I said. "It's common, but there's no way of knowing how 
'normal' it is." 

Mrs. D. then asked me to explain. I did. I gave her my analysis of her case 
and sought to explain why she feels compelled to go from one youthful male 
sex partner to another. 

From all indications in the case of Mrs. Molly D., her sexual problem 
stemmed from two factors. First, after years of marriage to the same man, 
she was sexually bored and unchallenged. And second, and perhaps more 
important, Mrs. D. was either unable or unwilling to relate emotionally to 
her partners. With no emotional involvement with any of her male partners, 
there was only the newness and novelty of each relationship to sustain any 
excitement for her. Thus, in long range terms, Mrs. D. was doomed to boredom 
with each partner almost from the time of each initial penetration. 

Analyzing a problem such as this one and providing a cure for it are two 
entirely different tasks. The first, obviously, is far easier than the 
second. Mrs. D. was deeply concerned that her compulsion to have sex with 
young boys would eventually become well-known by her husband and would 
destroy her marriage. 

Thus I suggested to Mrs. D. that she speak frankly to her husband. She 
described Mr. D. as an intelligent and secure man who could face a marital 
problem constructively. I told her to ask him if he shared a feeling of 
boredom within their mutual sex act. If so, I suggested a way they might 
cure it. 

As it turned out, Mr. D. had also felt certain feelings of boredom within 
the act. Once Mrs. D. had initiated the conversation, the couple was able to 
seriously examine their role together and their compatibility as partners. 
Fortunately for both of them, a solution was easy. 

They were able to rekindle the early excitement of their marriage by 
relating to each other in new and different ways. For example, Mrs. D. went 
to bed with her husband wearing thigh high stockings. Mr. D. physically 
forced intercourse with his wife in different rooms of the house and in 
different new positions. And, in the most exciting act of all between Mr. 
and Mrs. D., the couple had sex in broad daylight on the front lawn of their 
suburban home while three or four passers-by watched. 

While their activity was extreme, the important point is clear. Women on a 
dangerous trend of child seduction can be lured back into the happy confines 
of a traditional marriage. I must stress, however, that every case and every 
marriage is different. Activity which save one marriage might wreck another. 

It is clear then, that one sexual habit can often be cured by the initiation 
of another habit. This is the case in the following case history, also, but 
in the opposite manner of Case History One. 

In Case History One, a woman was cured of her child seduction spree by 
varying the sexual activity between her and her husband. The following case 
history, however, is much more unusual. In case History Two, a woman fears 
the lesbian tendencies she feels. She saves her conscience and her marriage 
by seducing neighborhood boys. 

 CASE HISTORY TWO 

"I thought I was a real pervert," Mrs. Lola G. said to me in March of 1972 
on her first visit to my office. My assistant, Miss Johnson, had just shown 
Mrs. G. into the interviewing chamber of my clinic. Miss Johnson had barely 
left the room when Mrs. G., . reclining comfortably on the sofa, began to 
tell her most bizarre story. Throughout the story she told, it was often 
difficult to determine whether she or a fifteen-year-old boy named Robb was 
the actual seducer or seductee. 

"I thought I was a real pervert," Mrs. G. repeated, "until a woman in my 
apartment building told me about the research you're doing, doctor. I 
thought I was the only woman around who liked to have sex with young boys. 
But, no. Shit, doctor, it seems like all the girls today go for guys of a 
half or a third of their age." 

"I'm not sure of the exact percentages," I explained to Mrs. G. "But I do 
know that the trend is increasing daily. Nowadays, it's just not an isolated 
case when an older married woman gets a youngster into her bed." 

"That's for sure, doctor," she said. "One of the women I know has nailed 
over a dozen young boys. I don't know how she charms them all, but she 
manages someway." 

"What about you, Mrs. G?" I asked. "Do you have a particular experience to 
tell me about?" 

"Oh," she scoffed, "I could tell you about several experiences. You know 
what I mean?" 

"I know," I said, "but what brings you to my office? Do you feel that you're 
in need of professional guidance about an affair involving a young boy?" 

Mrs. G., twenty-nine years of age and happily married to her second husband, 
paused before answering. She was an attractive and slim young woman who came 
to my office wearing a think pink sweater and white slacks. The sweater was 
thin enough to reveal the contours of her breasts beneath that sheer fabric. 
like most modern women with lithe bodies, Mrs. G. appeared not to be wearing 
a bra. 

"It's not so much that I need help," Mrs. G. began to explain. "But I've had 
a very strange affair. I guess what I want is ... is reassurance." 

"Reassurance about what?" I asked. "About whether I'm doing the right 
thing," she said. 

"Do you feel guilty about seducing a youngster?" I asked. 

"No," she replied resolutely. "I'm not hung up about guilt or anything. I 
just want too know whether I've done the right thing. You see," she said, 
"I've cheated on my husband. I've been to bed with women and young boys. I 
... I think I'm over my spree, but I want to know if I should tell my 
husband about it. My husband has a good cock and I love him. I don't want to 
lose him but I don't want to be dishonest with him either." 

"This is the type of thing I wouldn't be able to comment about without 
hearing the whole story," I said to the attractive Mrs. G. "Could you tell 
me about it?" 

"I'll tell you everything, doctor," she said. "Blow by blow, if you'll 
excuse the expression." 

Mrs. G. then gathered her thoughts. She told me the following story, one of 
the most unusual I came in contact with in my months of research into the 
field of child seduction by women. It seemed that Mrs. G. had gently enjoyed 
a fairly common type of lesbian experience, but her lesbian leanings were 
cured by the power of a young boy's penis. But I'll let Mrs. G. tell this 
odd story. This is how I recorded her own words.... 

...I have to preface my account of what I did by saying a few words, doctor. 
I don't regret having done anything. I did it all for a reason. Everything I 
did felt very good. I don't think of myself as a pervert and I don't think 
any other liberated woman of this day and age would think of me as one, 
either. 

I made it with another woman in my apartment building, and I made it with a 
young boy who also lives in the building. Both times were extremely 
enjoyable sexual experiences as I'm about to explain. But between the two, 
doctor, it's the sex with the young boy that now appeals to me most. 

It's hard to explain, but there's something about a young virgin male body 
that can drive a woman to orgasms instantly. I'll show you exactly what I 
mean. First let me tell you about how I first strayed from my husband's bed. 

For some time I'd been more than passingly interested in other female 
bodies. I used to buy all the good magazines that showed nude women. I'd 
look at their bodies and one thought would keep occurring to me. I'd keep 
thinking that who but another woman could possibly know how to really turn 
on another woman's body. 

Some of my best friends had had lesbian experiences, doctor, and most of 
them had not been ashamed to tell me about them. More and more I began to 
think that I was missing something by not making it with another female. The 
more I thought about it, the more I could imagine what another woman's soft 
breasts, tender buttocks and tempting little tuft of pubic hair would be 
like. I could imagine another girl's pussy region and I delighted in the 
thought of touching some pretty young thing down there in her most intimate 
spot. 

And it wasn't with my fingers that I wanted to touch this imaginary girl. I 
wanted to plunge my tongue deeply into another female's warm pulsating 
vagina. I wanted to enjoy the thrill of holding her buttocks in my palms as 
I drove my face and tongue deeply into her moist and damp slot. And I wanted 
to do all this while she was doing the same to me in that most wonderful of 
all positions, the inverted position of lesbian love. 

Doctor, it almost takes my breath away to think back on it. But let me tell 
you how it came to happen. And let me tell you how making it with a lovely 
young college girl named Bonnie led me directly to have sex with a 
fifteen-year-old boy. 

Bonnie was a girl who lived upstairs in my apartment building, doctor. And 
because Bonnie was a young college girl of twenty, she was tuned into all 
the latest sex gimmicks and fads from the campus. 

Well, doctor, in 1972, the big fad among the college coeds is lesbianism. 

I was up in Bonnie's apartment when she mentioned that fad to me. My head 
started to pound when that pretty young girl with the lithe young body 
mentioned lesbianism to me. 

"Bonnie," I asked, "does a girl like you go along with all those fads?" 

Bonnie smiled to me. I eyed her trim young legs which were revealed by her 
hot pants. And unless my eyes were mistaken I could see her hard little 
nipples underneath her blouse. 

"Lola," she said to me in return, "a girl would be crazy if she didn't try 
everything while she's young. That's the time to experiment with all the 
kinky new stuff." 

"Oh, Bonnie," I cooed. "That's just how I feel." 

Bonnie came over and sat beside me on the sofa in her living room. Then she 
gazed deeply into my eyes. Doctor, we did what any two normal healthy girls 
would do under the circumstances. We began to undress each other. 

Bonnie raised her hand to my breast and she started to push her feeling palm 
against the hard little nipple beneath my sweater. I moaned as soon as that 
delicate young female touched me. I could feel my pussy starting to water. 
This was the moment I'd been waiting for. I wasn't about to let it slip away 
without getting what I wanted. 

What did I want? I wanted. Bonnie's trim young body, naturally. One look at 
her body would make anyone of either sex want it. 

As she began to unbutton my sweater, I undid the belt buckle on her hot 
pants. I opened her trim little shorts just as I felt her open my own 
sweater. 

"Oh, Lola!" she moaned when she opened it. "No bra!" 

"Oh, Bonnie!" I squealed when I completely opened the zipper to her shorts. 
"No panties!" 

"No panties," she said. "And a shaved pussy!" 

It sure was. Evidently there were a lot of fads on the campus that outsiders 
didn't know about. Not only were the coeds playing with each other sexually, 
but the latest fad was to shave the whole vaginal area of its pubic hair. 

"I shave in the shower every night," said Bonnie as I moved my hand inside 
her hot pants and felt the tenderly smooth velvet skin down between her 
legs. "I'd never grown hair down there again. It's too much fun to be bald." 

"Oh, Bonnie, is it?" I asked, begging her to tell me more. 

"It sure is," she said. "After all, most of the coeds and little boys I make 
it with are oralists. That's the kink for the younger generation." 

I was so busy exploring the velvet smoothness down between her legs that I 
wasn't listening attentively when she spoke of little boys. But the subject 
would come up again, just as surely as a good penis always comes up again. 

She pulled my sweater off me and I worked her shorts down and off her. She 
was bare from the navel on down. I was completely topless. We were having 
such girlish good times that we continually giggled as we went to work on 
the rest of each other's clothes. 

I opened my slacks and slid them down and off. Then I stood and lowered my 
panties so that she could see my good old-fashioned tuft of furry pussy 
hair. 

"All I can offer you is an old fashioned pussy with all the pubic hair on 
it," I said. "Sorry." 

She smiled. She unbuttoned her blouse and let her braless nipples poke out 
of her open shirt. "I think it's a pretty pussy," she said to me softly. 
"The hair is very delicate and it forms a perfect little brown triangle 
between your legs." 

"Oh, Bonnie," I said to her as I stood completely nude in front of her. "You 
say the kindest things. I'll bet you're such a considerate girl in bed." 

She pulled her blouse off and was completely bare in front of me, her 
nipples hard and turned-on and jutting out to hard proud points. 

"But it's true," she said, placing her hands on my hips and drawing my pussy 
close in toward her face. "You have a lovely tuft of hair down there. It's 
so nice that I'd like to kiss it." 

"Oh, Bonnie," I moaned. "No man has ever turned me on like this!" 

"Of course not," she said. "No man would know how." 

We hugged each other and pushed our hard breasts together as we cuddled. I 
could feel Bonnie's nipples firmly pressed against the soft flesh of my 
breasts. Then she pulled herself backwards onto the sofa and let me crawl up 
on top of her. 

As she lay facing up from the bottom she opened her legs wide apart. My own 
body couldn't help but slide down between her legs. I could feel my thick 
mat of pubic hair press down against her hairless little crotch. 

I moved my pubic area and felt Bonnie react. She liked the feel of a mat of 
pussy hair pressing down against her. It was so sensual for her that she 
arched up her ass and started to wrap her legs around me. 

I pressed my bush right against the bare lips to her pussy and I let her hug 
me so tightly that I thought our breasts would burst from being squeezed 
together. 

Then her lips reached upwards and pressed to mine. We were just two innocent 
nude girls doing what came naturally. Our mouths opened and our tongues 
touched one another. She kissed me torridly and passionately as we ground 
our crotches together. It was a long soulful embrace. Then she spoke again. 

"Lola," Bonnie moaned to me in a cool low voice. "My pussy is soaking wet. 
Can I sit on your face?" 

"Sit on my face?" I asked. 

"Oh, yes, Lola, dear," she pleaded from down below me as I felt that velvet 
crotch of hers press against my pubic patch. "That's what makes a woman feel 
best. Sitting on someone's face." 

"I ... I've never done it," I confessed. 

"Never?" she asked, looking up at me in surprise. "You've never lived if you 
haven't had another woman sit on your face. We have to do it." 

Bonnie was a smart college girl and she was showing me all the wonderful new 
ways of fucking and orgasming. So I did exactly what she asked of me. 

We rolled over and I lay out on my back. I spread my legs wide because I 
didn't know what to expect from the whole operation which she wanted. 

When I spread my legs apart she took the opportunity to show me that lesbian 
affection is indeed a two way street. She pushed her pretty face down 
between my legs and planted a gentle kiss right on the lips of my vagina. 
Her tongue wiggled through the pubic hair and affected a short, sweet 
penetration of my wet little vagina. Then she glided her tongue up and down 
my pussy lips for a few seconds before getting back to the business at hand. 

Bonnie's little crotch area was just so fascinating because it had been 
shaved. I had been intrigued with the pussies of other women recently, but 
none of those other snatches turned me on the way Bonnie's bald bare snatch 
turned me on. 

Bonnie straddled my face by setting down her knees above my shoulders and 
beside my head. As I looked up I could see her breasts hanging way above me 
with those two hard nipples forming a glorious crown to the two breasts. 
Then I saw the navel and the little triangle where the pussy hair used to 
be. She sat up. I saw the vertical lips of her vagina and I knew what she 
wanted. 

She did exactly what she said she wanted to do. She sat down on my face, 
allowing my nose to be free to breathe, but bringing down the pussy right 
across my mouth. What could I do from underneath? I opened my mouth and 
started to slurp. 

"Oh, Lola, yes!" she said. "Yes, yes, that's what this girl loves!" 

I held my hands on her hips as I began to methodically work my tongue back 
and forth lengthwise in her snatch. She cooed and moaned in the pure 
pleasure of the moment. And as I slurped my long wriggling tongue back and 
forth across her clitoris and across her vaginal entrance, I began to 
genuinely savor the taste of her pussy. 

"Oh, Bonnie," I moaned back to her. "I never knew a pussy tasted to nice. 
That liquid that a girl makes is just heavenly and succulent." 

"Of course it is," she said. "That's why men always want to lick our 
vaginas. It tastes good for them." 

With those words, Bonnie went berserk. She pounded her wet pussy downwards 
on me with long thrusting actions which nearly drowned me. She held her 
hands on her hips as she pounded the pussy down onto my mouth and I could 
tell she was orgasming. Her nipples grew hard and tight as she pressed down 
and I jammed my wriggling tongue as far back up into her as it could 
possibly reach. We did it until my tongue got tired and until Bonnie was 
completely orgasmed out. 

"So wonderful," she cooed as she wearily lifted up her pussy and dismounted 
my face. The area around my mouth was soaking wet now and all I could taste 
or smell was the pungent scent of fresh warm pussy. 

She lay down next to me, kissed my right nipple and started to hold her hand 
right on my crotch, nestling her fingers right into my pubic hair. 

"Was it good for you?" I asked that pretty young college girl. She's 
practically flooded my face with her warm wet gushings. It better have been 
good. 

"Oh, Lola," she moaned, "it was so good. I have to do something for you in 
return." 

"But-" 

I didn't get to finish even the second word of my sentence. Her hands had 
slipped down to my pussy and were playing with my organ like it were a 
musical instrument. She had me soaking wet within a few minutes. Then she 
started to finish me off. 

Bonnie assumed the inverted love position on me, plunging her face into my 
pussy and lapping her tongue all over my crack until she'd orgasmed it out. 
Then we both lay huddled in a mass of female flesh and warmth. 

"Oh, Bonnie," I cooed. "Where did you ever learn such things as sitting on 
another girl's face. It was just tremendous. No one has lived without doing 
that." 

"I learned it on campus," Bonnie confessed as she still toyed with me by 
playing with my clitoris with the little finger of her left hand. 

"From another coed?" I asked. 

She smiled broadly. "To tell you the truth, Lola," Bonnie said. "I learned 
that from a male. But not from one of that limp-pricked college boys." 

"From one of the professors then?" I asked. 

"No," she said. "From a little boy!" 

"A little boy!" I squealed. "How old?" 

"Thirteen," she said. "And he's a real cock-wise little demon. His name is 
Robb." 

"Robb? Thirteen?" I exclaimed. "What are you doing, stealing from cradles?" 

"It's the other fad on campus now," Bonnie explained. "You never did let me 
finish telling you about it before. Right now the real hot thing on campus 
is finding a little boy to fuck." 

"And you found Robb?" I asked incredulously. I studied Bonnie's naked body 
and I tried to imagine what it would look like when a young boy of 
thirteen-covered with childish baby fat but equipped with a big adult 
rod-mounted her and penetrated her pussy. 

"He found me," she proclaimed proudly. "Robb came right up to me in the 
college library and exposed himself. As soon as I saw that young penis 
hanging out of the fly of his pants I knew the boy was for me." 

Bonnie described that young boy to me. She said that Robb was a boy endowed 
with an enormous penis for such a young boy. She said that one of the 
fraternity houses had taught the boy how to fuck coeds and that he'd decided 
he liked it. So he roamed the library flashing his cock at girls until he 
found one who would be interested in fucking. 

"And Robb taught you about sitting on people's faces?" I asked 
incredulously. 

"That's right," said Bonnie. "He's the one who first asked me to sit on his 
face. Let me tell you, Lola, when it comes to fucking, don't ever be afraid 
to learn from a little boy!" 

Bonnie then reached down to my bush and played with it a little more. I 
liked the feel of her fingers back down there. But she'd planted in my head 
an idea which was quick to take root. 

"Bonnie?" I asked. "Do you know where I could find a little boy to try?" 

"Silly," she said. "I'm a generous girl. I won't make you go searching. You 
can borrow Robb." 

I kissed her on both nipples to thank her for her generosity. I couldn't 
wait to try out her little teenage lover.... 

...Mrs. G. paused in her interview and stated that she could only speak for 
a few more minutes. I said that I would be pleased to let her break off in 
her story, but I definitely wanted to meet with her again. Perhaps once, and 
probably twice. She had told me of a lesbian encounter similar to the ones 
that many modern women are engaging in. But she had told me little about 
what I wanted to hear about most-her affair with a young boy. 

"Did you make a date through Bonnie to meet Robb?" I asked Mrs. G. 

"Sort of," she explained. "I wanted to think about it a little bit. Here I 
was, twenty-nine years old and trying to rationalize making a date with a 
boy of thirteen. I-" 

"Rationalize?" I asked, breaking into her sentence. "Did you feel that you 
were doing something illicit that you'd have to justify to yourself?" 

Mrs. G. sighed. "I guess that's how I felt at first," she admitted. "I felt 
that I was planning on doing something sneaky or dirty. But I'd been hearing 
so many other women, both older and younger than I, who felt that a woman 
can do whatever she wants with her own body." 

"That's the common modern attitude," I nodded to Mrs. G. 

"So finally I decided that I wanted to do it," she explained. "I was at a 
point in my life where I wanted to experiment with sex. If something felt 
good I wanted to do it. Is that so perverted?" 

"Not at all," I assured her. 

"There are some people who think so," she said. "Some people think that 
cunnilingus is wrong. Others think that lesbianism is wrong. Still others 
think that fucking with young teenage boys is immoral. And some people think 
all those good-feeling things are wrong." 

"Many people are ignorant of the pleasurable possibilities of the human 
body," I said calmly. "But any woman will know how many endogenous zones 
there are to her body. How could anyone deny that those zones are there for 
a reason?" 

"You seem to understand, doctor," she said slowly. "I'm glad somebody does." 

I let Mrs. G. depart at that time and my assistant, Miss Johnson, scheduled 
her for a few days later. I was most anxious to see Mrs. G. again. I felt 
that I knew only a bit about her sexual activity. She was an interesting 
woman. I wanted to know more. 

Obviously, it was her quest for sexual experimentation which led her to have 
sex with the boy. This was evident even before she'd described the actual 
love acts she'd engaged in with him. When she returned four days later, Mrs. 
G. described the actual act of love which occurred between woman and child. 

III 

"I must admit that it felt strange, doctor, Mrs. G. said when she returned 
to my office for the second interview session. 

"Strange to have sex with the boy?" I asked the twenty-nine year old woman. 

"No," she said, "that felt marvelous and was fabulously satisfying. "What 
felt odd was the thought of doing it with a boy, having sex with a mere 
child." 

"Many women feel that way at first," I said. "And perhaps it's that very 
thrill of strangeness which makes the act so enjoyable." 

"Where did it take place?" I asked. 

"Bonnie's apartment," she said. "Right upstairs in my own apartment 
building." 

I thought Mrs. G. thought I was still referring to her initial meeting with 
young Robb. I wasn't. "I mean," I explained, "Where did you first have sex 
with the boy?" 

"Bonnie's apartment," she stated anew. "We were humping and pumping together 
about ten minutes after we first saw each other." 

"How did it happen so quickly?" I inquired. "Particularly on your first 
meeting with the boy?" 

Mrs. G. explained exactly what happened ... 

...Bonnie set it all up with me and Robb. She said that she'd let me screw 
with him if I'd just do one favor for her in return: let her watch us 
fucking. Naturally I said yes. As long as she put it to me that way there 
wasn't much argument about it. 

Bonnie phoned little Robb and told him that a good friend of hers wanted to 
meet him. She asked the boy to come up to her apartment and told him that I 
would be there, too. What she didn't tell him was that she was going to 
pretend to be absent while she hid in the closet. 

Well, doctor, I remember the day very well because it's the day I had my 
best orgasm. 

Bonnie phoned Robb and asked him if he was horny. He said that he was always 
horny and would be glad to come right up. That was my cue. As soon as Bonnie 
hung up the telephone I started to strip. 

I went into the bedroom and watched myself in a full length mirror as I 
undressed. I took my dress off and laid it over a chair. Then I pulled my 
bra up over my head and tossed it away. Down came my panties. I admired 
myself in the mirror. I could see my furry little muff right between my 
legs. I admired it and was so pleased with it that I almost forgot to slip 
my stockings off. I was standing there in nothing but those stockings when I 
heard the doorbell ring. It was Robb. 

I did exactly what Bonnie and I had agreed upon. I hopped into her bed and 
pulled the sheets over my nude twenty-nine-year-old body. Then Bonnie darted 
into the closet right near the bed, the closet with the full length mirror 
on the door. 

Then the doorbell rang again. 

"Come on in, Robb," I shouted. "It's unlocked." 

The door in the next room opened. I could hear that boy coming in. "Bonnie?" 
I heard him ask. 

"Come in here?" I sang out nicely to the boy. "Come into the bedroom Robb." 

Cautiously the boy approached. Then I saw him. He was a darling little 
thirteen-year-old with brown hair and dark little brown eyes. He was wearing 
jeans and a little red sweater. As soon as he saw me in the bod he started 
to smile. 

"Bonnie's not here anymore," I said to him. "She had to go out quickly." 

"Are you her friend?" he asked me. 

"I'm Bonnie's good friend," I said to him. "Bonnie and I share everything. 
Even our lovers." 

"Gosh," said the boy. 

"That's why I don't have any clothes on under these sheets," I said to him. 
"Bonnie said that you're a very potent little fellow and that you've served 
a lot of college girls." 

"I've banged my share," he said with a devilish grin. "I get pussy off some 
of the best looking girls on the campus." 

"Well," I said to the boy, "I've been out of college for almost eight years. 
But most men agree that I have a very satisfying pussy down between my 
legs." 

"Oh?" he said. 

"I don't shave it like Bonnie does," I said, trying to interest him in a 
pussy which was kept in the more traditional style. "But it's the in-sides 
that count. Down between my lips it's very warm and wet and satisfying." 

"Gosh," he said. 

"Maybe you should come over and sit on the bed with me," I suggested to that 
handsome youngster. "Bonnie will be away for an hour or so. It will give you 
a perfect chance to get better acquainted with me." 

He started to come over to me. He came right up to the side of that bed. I 
could see stirrings down beneath his fly. I could feel similar stirrings 
down between the lips of my vagina. He was right next to the bed and I felt 
like taking him in my arms, pulling out his cock and hauling him down on top 
of me. 

"Bonnie says that you showed her your penis in the college library," I said 
to him. "Is that right?" 

He nodded. 

"Will you show it to me here?" I asked. "It's very private here in her 
bedroom. If you showed it to her in public I don't know why you wouldn't 
want to show it to her good friend in private." 

He thought about it. Then I did something to urge him on a little more. I 
reached to those sheets which covered my body and I began to lower them. 
They had been all the way up to my shoulders, but that wasn't quite intimate 
enough. I lowered them so that young Robb could see the cleavage between my 
breasts. 

His cock throbbed beneath his fly and he watched attentively as those sheets 
began to come down. , "If you show me your penis," I said to him, "I'll do 
something very nice to it." 

His hand dropped to his fly. His zipper began to come down. The farther down 
it came, the warmer and wetter was the feeling down inside my snatch. 

I lowered the sheets farther. Then I quickly lowered them all the way down 
to my hips. Young Robb could see my bare breasts right down in front of him. 
I felt the sheets tightly clinging to my body. He could easily see the 
outline of my pussy down between my legs. The legs were spread apart beneath 
the sheets. He'd have to have been blind not to see that, too. 

He fumbled with his belt buckle and I reached over to help him. I got him to 
sit down on the edge of the bed and I completely unbuckled his belt. Then I 
opened his pants by unlinking a little snap at his waist. Open came the 
trousers. I saw a huge bulge down underneath his white cotton underpants. 

"I know what that bulge is," I told him. "That's your big long rod." 

"That's right, lady," he said. 

"My name is Lola," I cooed to him. "And I think I know why your penis is so 
hard." 

"Why?" he asked. 

"It's because you're sitting on the edge of a bed and there's a naked woman 
in the bed." He nodded. 

"Well, Robb," I said, "I think that you and Lola should get much better 
acquainted. And the best way a woman can get acquainted with a boy is if he 
has his underpants down." 

"So that the penis is exposed?" he asked. 

"That's right, Robb," I said. "So that the penis is exposed." 

He stood up and took off his red wool sweater, baring his strong boyish 
chest while his jeans dropped down to around his knees. As he pulled the 
sweater up over his head, however, I reached to the elastic waistband of his 
underpants. With a firm grip on the underpants, I began to pull them down. 

Down came those white cotton briefs. As they came down I first saw the thick 
mat of pubic hair around his crotch. Then out popped a long blue-veined 
penis, twitching and sitting there in front of me, all nice and hard and 
bigger than life. I pulled his underpants all the way down to his knees and 
I admired the hairy young cock he had. 

"Well!" I said as he disposed of his sweater and stood before me with his 
manly young charms exposed. "You sure are an attractive young man. Just look 
at those tools!" 

On hearing my words that youngster gave a fantastic wriggle to his penis, a 
wriggle that made my whole body shiver with excitement. 

"Oh, Robb!" I muttered when I saw him do that. "Can you wriggle it like that 
when it's inside a woman, too?" 

He nodded. "I can do just about anything with it," he said to me. "But the 
best thing it does is leave women satisfied." 

He was completely bare now as he pushed his pants and his underpants down 
off his nubile young legs. I admired that hairy cock of his as he sat down 
on the edge of the bed again. I even reached down to his cock and took it in 
my hands, teasing the little underside of the penis as I admired it. 

Then I reached to the sheets. Out of the corner of my eye I could see where 
Bonnie was watching us. She was standing in the closet and had pulled down 
her panties. Under her skirt she was fingering her clitoris. She was 
watching us through the gap between the door and the wall. The door was open 
just enough so that she could peek out that gap and I could see the 
reflection of Robb and me in that full length mirror. 

I placed one hand on the boy's hip as I began to draw the sheets down 
farther off my body. Down the sheet came, uncovering the upper part of my 
lower belly and the little trail of hairs which led from my navel down to my 
whole massive pussy area. 

I tossed the sheets off and the boy saw my bare pussy. The whole tuft was 
hairy and warm and the insides were soaking wet in anticipation of him. 
Bonnie excitedly watched from the closet as I continued to massage the boy's 
sensitive shaft. 

"Now, Robb," I cooed to him as I kicked the sheets completely off my body 
and permitted the boy who was sixteen years younger than I to view my nude 
body, "isn't this the type of body you'd like to insert your fat little 
organ into?" 

He nodded. His hands started to move toward my pussy area. One hand glided 
over the pubic hair and the other hand tried to wrap all the way around to 
my bare buttocks. 

He leaned forward and planted a kiss on my bush. Then he slipped a finger 
between the upper folds of the vaginal lips. He began to massage my 
clitoris. I relaxed fully and started to forget the fact that Bonnie was 
just a few feet away in the closet, watching her young boy friend and her 
older girl friend having a good go at it. Her fingers were massaging across 
the head of her own clit just as briskly and nicely as Robb's were gliding 
across mine. 

Within a few more minutes Robb's fingers had deserted my teased clitoris and 
had begun to play in the warm recesses of my vaginal canal. His fingers 
slipped an inch or two into my slot. Then they drifted three and four inches 
in. Then he twisted them all the way back and began to tease me by rotating 
those fingers all around my vagina in wide circular motions. I was starting 
to moan aloud now. I never knew how exciting a thirteen-year-old boy can be. 

I looked at his angelic young face as his fingers twisted back and forth 
within my wet box. I could see movement in the closet which told me that 
Bonnie was giving herself a fierce jiggling. But I promptly forgot about 
her. Robb was withdrawing his fingers and was starting to move over on top 
of me. I spread my legs apart as wide as I could and I begged that 
thirteen-year-old boy to mount me. 

His young body climbed on top of mine. He was very adapt with his penis. 
With some men you have to hold the penis and direct it in. But no such crap 
with Robb. His penis's head found my slot easily and with one firm thrust he 
shoved that huge hard cock of his right between the wet hungry lips of my 
vagina. 

"Oh, Robb," I moaned to him. "You feel even bigger than you look!" 

The boy said nothing. Instead he started to move that long hard rod of his 
back and forth in my tender wet slot. I moved my loins beneath him to keep 
pace. I moaned and I sighed and I watched our bodies in that full length 
mirror. 

He was on top of me in such an angle that I couldn't get a full view of us 
in that mirror. All I could see was my legs spread wide open while his ass 
bobbed up and down in the area between those legs. But even if I couldn't 
see what was going on, I sure could feel it. His cock was driving in and out 
of me and bringing me way up to a real orgasmic frenzy. I throbbed my pussy 
back and forth against his cock and I began to orgasm. 

I felt his long hard cock throb in and out of me as it started to build its 
way up for a great big blast. I watched in the mirror as I arched up my legs 
and wrapped them completely around Robb's midsection. His prick pushed in 
and out and built up for a huge hard come. I panted and moaned. I was 
beginning to blast off with some genuinely great orgasms as that young boy's 
cock was throbbing in and out of me. I was so proud of seducing the 
youngster, even if Bonnie, who was in the closet fingering her clit, had 
arranged the whole thing. 

As my own pussy smashed forward and back in the frantic bliss of a whole 
series of orgasms, Robb's young penis swelled up to the longest length I'd 
felt inside me that day. His rod was pushing deep into me and tickling the 
most intimate little parts down inside me. 

"Oh, Robb," I moaned with a long panting gasp. "You're so so long!" 

The boy grunted in anticipation and I squeezed my legs around him again, 
undulating the walls of my vagina forward and back around his long probing 
prong. I panted and I cooed and I felt his penis begin to erupt. 

His dick spasmed and unloaded down inside me. I could feel the hot warmth 
exploding down within my vagina and squirting the seminal fluid down to the 
most intimate recesses of my pussy. I was squealing and almost yelping for 
joy now. My whole pussy was contorted with orgasmic bliss as young Robb's 
thirteen-year-old cock wriggled and unloaded its long hot orgasmic blast 
inside me. 

When he had completely come I held my legs around him for a few extra 
seconds. I liked the feel of that youngster's penis still inserted in my 
vagina. He tried to dismount me and I wouldn't let him. Bonnie stuck her 
head out of the closet to see what we were doing. She knew that her little 
friend had come, and she could tell that I was practically orgasmed out. But 
I still had one final request before I was letting young Robb off for the 
day. 

"Oh, Robb," I moaned to him. "You're simply a tremendous cocksman." 

He grunted his thanks to my compliment. 

"But I still have a little tingling feeling down inside my snatch," I 
explained. "I've felt it before and there's only one way to relieve it." 

"What's that?" he asked. 

"I'd like to sit on your face," I explained. "Please, Robb?" 

The boy had a very serious look on his face as he pulled his whacker out of 
my wet snatch and pondered my request. 

"I don't know," he said. "Normally I just let girls sit on my face before 
fucking." 

"You've never done it afterwards?" I asked in a voice which had a teasing 
tone. He shook his head. 

"Robb, boy," I cooed. "You don't know what you're missing. The pussy tastes 
even better after than before." 

"It does?" he asked. 

"Everyone knows that," I giggled. "Everyone who has ever muff-dived knows 
that." 

"Oh, yeah?" he asked. 

"Yes, Robb," I said, "but I guess you're very young and innocent and 
wouldn't know about things like that." 

That did it. He rolled over on his back and lay out flat on the bed. He 
invited me to climb aboard and straddle his face. 

I moved up on top of him and placed one leg on each side of his head. Then I 
slowly squatted my wet pussy right down on his tender young face, the lips 
of my vagina descending right down onto his facial lips. 

"You're soaking!" he exclaimed as my wet muff pressed to his face. But I 
wasn't about to deter either of us from the good physical fun that was in 
store. I squatted until I was completely down on him. Then I felt his mouth 
open up underneath me and his tongue came swishing out. 

He slurped upwards as all my crud and all his come started to glide down and 
out of my wet penetrated vagina. It all came down onto his face and tongue. 
He slurped it out of me. His tongue felt so good down there inside of me 
that I started to build for another orgasm. 

Robb slurped enthusiastically. His tongue lapped all the cream and juice out 
of me. I managed to get one more good hard orgasm off before I was fully 
expended.... 

...Mrs. G. concluded her story on that point. But since the idea of sitting 
on the face of a partner had now figured into the testimony she'd given me 
at two different interviews, I sought to pursue the idea a bit more. 

"Tell me, Mrs. G., " I said to her, "why do you appear to have such a 
fixation with sitting on the face of your partner. Is it from that initial 
experience with Bonnie?" 

"That's exactly where it comes from," she said. "I had never even thought of 
doing it until Bonnie taught me all about it. But now ... well, now I like 
it almost more than I like the act of screwing." 

"I see," I said. "May I ask why?" 

"You'd have to be a woman to understand," she said. "I guess it's sort of a 
modern way of cunnilingus. You know, with the woman getting out from 
underneath and getting to stay in the superior position." 

"You like being on top?" I asked. 

"I love it," she said. 

"What about your husband?" I inquired. "Have you ever had cunnilingus 
performed on you by your husband in that way?" 

Mrs. G. gave me a wry smile. "My husband?" she asked. "Don' make me laugh, 
doctor. I love him and he satisfies me when we fuck. But he's a 
traditionalist when it comes to cunnilingus. He says that it should be 
performed with the woman lying on her back and the man on top of her. 
Further, he'll only do it if I suck him off at the same time." 

"Most intriguing," I said, making a series of notes on a pad of paper in my 
lap. Often these contested areas of marital sex are exactly the causes of a 
wife's wayward sexual behavior. I certainly began to believe this to be true 
in Mrs. G.'s case. 

"To tell you the truth, doctor," Mrs. G. added. "It's not really that 
important that I get to sit on my husband's face. But when it comes to 
screwing with young boys, I find that I don't really enjoy the sex unless 
I'm allowed to squat down on the boy's face first." 

"Am I to conclude that you ask all the boys you seduce to let you sit on 
their faces?" 

"Well," Mrs. G. said with a grin, "I don't always ask, but usually I get to 
do it. Should I give you an example?" 

I told Mrs. G. that I would indeed enjoy hearing an example of how she sat 
on a boy's face without telling him before hand that she was going to do it. 
I was, however, again running into schedule problems. Immediately after Mrs. 
G.'s morning appointment I was due to meet with a forty-year-old spinster 
who had recently allowed herself to be seduced by her twelve-year-old 
nephew. The woman was undergoing psycho-emotional experiences not only from 
being seduced, but because that her twelve-year-old nephew had been the 
first male to ever try to seduce her. 

Thus I asked Mrs. G. to have lunch in the city at the expense of my research 
clinic. I then had Miss Johnson, my clinical assistant, set a brief 
appointment for Mrs. G. for early that same afternoon. 

When Mrs. G. returned, she told me a brief but unusual story about the fate 
of a young boy who came to her apartment trying to sell magazine 
subscriptions. 

II 

"I'll have to confess something to you right from the start," Mrs. G. said 
to me when she returned to my offices after lunch. 

"And what would that be?" I asked. 

"I nearly didn't come back," she confessed. "I saw something during my lunch 
that was almost irresistible." 

"And what was that?" I asked. 

"I saw a young boy of maybe only eleven years. He was walking in that small 
park down the street from your office. He was such a cute little darling. I 
wanted so much to have him become my friend." 

"Your friend?" I asked. 

"Friend, lover," Mrs. G. replied. "You know what I mean. I wanted him for 
sex. He was a dear little red-haired boy with freckles. Did you know, 
doctor, that little freckled boys often have freckles on their penises?" 

"But if he was only eleven,' Mrs. G., " I protested, "wouldn't he be a bit 
young for a woman of twenty-nine?" 

"There's no such thing," she said, "as a boy too young to satisfy a woman." 

"What if the youngster isn't even past puberty yet?" I inquired. "Isn't it 
at least somewhat important that the boy be able to raise an erection?" 

"Sure," she said. "It's important. But it's not the end of the world if the 
boy can't give you a stick. A resourceful woman knows other ways." 

"Ah, I see," I said. "Other ways such as sitting on the boy's face?" 

"Exactly," said Mrs. G. "That's what this woman wants ... and that's what 
she usually gets." 

"Is that what happened in the incident you were about to describe to me this 
morning?" I asked. 

"Well, it's only part of what happened," she said. "You asked me if I asked 
the boys to let me squat down on their kissers. I said I sometimes did it 
without asking." 

"That's right," I said. "And you were going to tell me about a recent 
incident, I believe," I said to her. 

Mrs. G. then proceeded with the incident which she'd saved from that 
morning.... 

...It was just last week, doctor. The incident is still fresh in my mind and 
the tingle is still fresh in my pussy. I was at home at about two o'clock in 
the afternoon when the buzzer to my apartment rang. 

I went right to the front door to answer the buzzer. I opened the door and 
there standing before me was a cute little fellow of maybe fourteen years. 
He announced that he was trying to raise money for his boy scout troop by 
selling magazine subscriptions. 

"Just what I've wanted for so long," I said to him. "Magazines!" 

"Maybe you'd like to look at my list of possible magazines," he said, 
handing me the list. 

"I'd like to take a long look at that and a long look at you, young fellow," 
I said. "What about coming in and sitting down?" 

It was so easy to get him in. He told me that I was the first woman to give 
him a friendly reception in the whole building. 

"I can't imagine any woman in her right mind being unfriendly to a fine 
looking boy like you," I said to him. We sat on a sofa in my living room. I 
made sure to sit just close enough so that I could rub my left breast right 
up against his side. 

"It's got nothing to do with what I look like," he said. "Nobody wants 
magazines." 

I was going to tell him that I didn't want magazines either and what he 
looked like had everything in the world to do with why he got past my front 
door. But I was quiet. I had a more subtle way of telling him what I wanted. 

I moved my hand over to his knee and I put down the list of magazines that 
he had given me. 

"I think I'd prefer to ask you directly about what magazines you have," I 
said to him. "Do you have anything which is more explicit than the usual 
mass circulation magazines?" 

"Explicit?" he asked. I nodded. "Explicit about what?" he asked again. 

"Explicit about the most important thing that can happen between a woman and 
a boy," I said softly. 

"Motherhood?" he asked. 

"Close," I teased. "I was thinking more in terms of sex." 

"Sex?" he asked, beginning to get a little nervous. My hand moved up from 
his knee to a spot halfway up his leg. 

"Yes, sex," I said. "I'm sure you've heard of it." 

His face became red and he was very nervous. 

"I ... I don't think I should stay, he said. 

He got up to leave but I grabbed his shoulder and sat him down in the seat 
beside me on the sofa. 

"You're a very poor little businessman," I said. "You should be ready to do 
almost anything to make a big subscription sale." 

"But-?" 

"I just happen to want to buy five subscriptions," I said. "But you have to 
do something for me, too." 

"What?" he asked. 

"Take down your trousers," I said. 

He struggled to get up and this time I really jumped the boy. I slid my hand 
all the way up his leg and grabbed his zipper. With one good yank the zipper 
came zipping down, baring a little pair of blue boxer shorts that he wore 
underneath. 

He continued to struggle but I undid his belt and his pants. "Don't be 
concerned," I said. "All that's going to happen is that a woman is going to 
bare her pussy to you." 

"I don't want that," he pleaded. 

"What's the matter? Are you queer?" 

We wrestled around and I had his pants down to his knees and his shirt 
completely undone. In struggling the top of my dress had become ripped and 
my left boob was almost ready to fall out. 

"I've never done it before," he squealed. "I don't know how to do it." 

"A feeble excuse if I've ever heard one," I shot back. And with one good 
lunge I grabbed my hands around that big mass that was in his crotch. I 
didn't squeeze, but I threatened to. 

"Either you do what I ask," I said as I held his nuts and his rod firmly in 
my palms, "or I squeeze." 

He gulped loudly. I drove a mean bargain. 

"Come on," I said. "From what I feel down there I think you're already 
erect." 

He gulped again. My tit popped out. He stared at it and his rod grew all the 
harder as he stared. Then he nodded. Yes, he said, he'd do it. 

Well, doctor, you can see how shy he was for a boy of fourteen. Naturally I 
couldn't, discuss something like sitting on his face with him. He would have 
thought I was a pervert or something. Obviously I was going to have to lead 
him into doing it without his knowing in advance. 

I took his clothes off and pulled down his underpants. Out came his rod. It 
was fat and hard. It was also virgin, according to what he said. 

"I'd always been saving it for some girl I really liked," he said as his 
voice tried to keep from breaking. 

"That's a silly out-of-date idea," I admonished him. "You miss out on a lot 
of fun unless you fuck anyone at anytime you can." 

I pulled off my dress and let my big feminine boobs hang before his eyes. 
Then I pulled off my stockings and stood before him with nothing but panties 
on. 

The fourteen-year-old boy sat there nude on the sofa. He was staring at my 
crotch since the outline of my hairy vagina was clearly visible through my 
pink silk panties. . "I'll bet you've never seen the live hairy pussy of a 
grown woman," I said to him softly. He shook his head. I slowly pulled down 
my panties and his eyes nearly popped out of his head when he saw the hairy 
big triangle down between my legs. 

"That's the pussy," I said, "and that," I added as I pointed to his cock, 
"is the instrument you're going to penetrate it with." 

He said nothing and I went toward him. I pushed him over backward onto the 
sofa. His penis was cutely standing straight up, pointing right at the 
ceiling of my apartment. I reached to his cock and started to work on it 
with my fingers as my lips pressed to his and as I started to kiss him. 

The little hole on the tip of his scout's young rod already had a lot of 
juice in it. It was typical of one of the cutest tricks of young boys who 
have done little or no previous fucking before I catch them. Their penises 
excite easily and always have a lot of juice right up front even before the 
penis is called on to squirt forth. This boy was no exception. I caressed 
his nuts and kissed him madly as I readied my strategy for plopping my pussy 
down squarely on his mouth. 

As the boy lay flat on the bed with his prong aiming at the clouds, I threw 
my leg over his midsection and straddled him, holding my wet pussy just 
about above his navel. I lowered it slightly so that the hairy tuft would 
glide across his lower belly. 

"Are ... are you going to sit down on my penis?" he asked in a childishly 
concerned voice. 

"Yes," I answered, "eventually I am. But first I want you to close your 
eyes." 

"My eyes?" he asked. 

"That's right," I said. "There's an old expression among women who fuck that 
some things are so good that you have to taste them." 

"Taste them?" he moaned. 

"Just shut those eyes," I ordered, "before I jam each eye with a nipple." 

He shut those eyes and quickly I moved my loins upward on his body. Before 
he knew it I had straddled his face and had plopped my pussy smack dab onto 
his mouth. 

I manipulated his penis by reaching behind me and stroking it with my 
fingers. But the boy looked up with terrified eyes that I could see by 
looking down between my breasts. His mouth was directly below my pussy and 
he tried to yell at me. But as he yelled his lips and tongue and breath 
moved all over my pussy, giving me just the lovely feeling down there that 
I'd wanted. Finally he'd tired of yelling and protesting. And by that time, 
just as I'd planned it, nature's order had taken over. 

Like any man (or woman) he liked the taste of my foaming wet vagina. He had 
caught a few mouthfuls of it while he was trying to howl his protest at me. 
As soon as he caught one taste of that luscious liquid he started to forget 
about his surprise and just slurp upwards on my succulent pussy. He made me 
orgasm several times by thrusting his hard young tongue upwards into my 
vaginal canal. Finally it was I who had to restrain him. I lifted my pussy 
off his wet mouth, moved down his body, and plopped my slot right down over 
the upraised needle which was still sticking up between his legs. I felt the 
long hard prong stick deep into me. I pumped hard for almost two full 
minutes. My own pussy blasted away with orgasms while the magazine boy's 
penis built itself into a stick which felt like a baseball bat down there. 
Finally he exploded up into me. That youngster came so hard that I thought 
his jet of foaming hot come was going to propel me up through the ceiling. 
But it didn't. It merely drove my pussy to a fabulous orgasm and left my 
body all tingling for hours afterward ... 

...Mrs. G. brought her tale of youthful seduction to a close with those 
words. I had by now acquired a good insight into Mrs. G.'s psycho-sexual 
problems. As we neared a discussion of my analysis of her case, however, she 
reverted back to one of her opening remarks, that of her need for 
reassurance. 

"I know I seduced that cute little magazine boy," she said, "and maybe it 
wasn't a very nice thing to do. But I don't think I hurt the boy, doctor, do 
you?" 

"It's hard to tell," I answered. Obviously there was no physical damage. The 
fact of the matter is, since the male animal is what he is, that the boy 
probably loved it and soon told all his friends about it in a teen-age 'bull 
session'. " 

"That makes me feel better, doctor," Lola G. said. "I guess I feel that I'm 
doing something wrong and I need to be reassured that I'm not. I don't care 
if he tells all his friends. Hell, I hope he tells them who and where I am. 
I'd like to see them." 

Mrs. G. and I then discussed my feelings on her case. An analysis was not 
difficult and she did not dispute either of my two findings. 

I told Mrs. G. that she suffered from a mild guilt complex about her lesbian 
activity and her seduction of young boys. But I told her, too, just as I 
informed many other patients, that her feelings were normal under her 
circumstances. 

Mrs. G., like many modern women, needed a certain variety of sexual activity 
as she approached her thirties. Obviously that's what she was looking for 
when she had sex with her friend Bonnie and it's what she found when she 
seduced young boys. 

Second, and perhaps more interesting, was the facet of Mrs. G.'s case which 
was represented by sitting on the face of her partners. 

Mrs. G., in seeking to establish a sexual independence outside of her 
marriage, sought to establish herself as a liberated dominant woman. She, 
like any other woman in a similar situation, wanted to move "up from under" 
as the modern saying goes. Symbolically that's exactly what she was doing by 
assuming a female-superior, style of cunnilingus. 

Her insistence on having cunnilingus performed on her in this manner by 
teen-age boys was an assertion of her need for sex outside her marriage. 
True, she asked her husband if he would perform cunnilingus on her in this 
way, too. But she knew what his answer would be before she even asked. And, 
probably, if he had said yes, she would not have accepted. As long as she 
felt that she had to have cunnilingus in this manner and her husband 
wouldn't do it for her, she felt justified in seducing boys. Justified and 
independent. Thus sitting on the face of young boys rationalized her 
behavior and was a psychological defense against the guilt feelings of 
committing adultery. 

As interesting as I found Mrs. G.'s case to be, I feel the following case 
history to be perhaps the most intriguing case of an older woman's physical 
desire for a younger boy that I came across. It all began, as you'll soon 
discover, with a brisk spanking. 

 CASE HISTORY THREE 

Mrs. Rosalyn T., thirty-eight years of age and divorced, not only had a 
fixation with young boys, but she had a further fixation upon their 
buttocks. 

Mrs. T. made this confession to me within the first few minutes of our 
interview. Mrs. T. was very much aware of what she was doing and why she was 
doing it. She was, however, at a complete loss to control it. 

"You have what you describe as a 'compulsion' to have sex with young boys," 
I said to Mrs. T. "Is that right?" 

"It is, doctor," she replied. "Any male under eighteen years of age is fair 
game for me. It's lucky that my own two children are girls or I would have 
fucked them by now." 

"How many young boys have you had sex with?" I asked. "Can you give me an 
estimate?" 

"I can give you something better than an estimate," she replied. "I can give 
you the exact number. I've actually had genital sex with nineteen boys. I've 
gotten three others to finger my pussy. One of those three licked my pussy, 
too. I've had heavy kissing scenes with one or two others and there was one 
little doll of twelve whom I taught to fuck me rectally." 

"Rectally?" I asked. "Why?" She shrugged. "I figured I'd like it," she said. 
"I thought it would make a good change of pace." 

"Did it?"I asked. 

"You bet," she said. "It's too bad that more males of all ages don't know 
about ass-fucking. It's good for the man and it's absolutely tremendous for 
the woman." 

Mrs. T. appeared quite spry and youthful for her thirty-eight years. She 
wore a trim minidress which was low cut at the breasts and very short at the 
hem. Her legs were sturdy and attractive and her dark hair was carefully and 
expensively coiffured. Mrs. T. could easily have passed for a moddish woman 
of society. Instead, she was actually a middle-aged housewife with 
abundantly good looks and an uncontrollable urge to have sex with young 
boys. 

"I guess I have a thing about the ass, doctor," she continued in her 
discussion of rectal sex. "After all, it was an ass that I couldn't resist 
that began this whole thing about two years ago." 

"Just how do you mean that?" I asked. "It was a pair of buttocks that 
started it off," she repeated. "I go ape-shit for buttocks. You know how 
some men are about breasts and how other men are about legs? Well, that's 
they way I am over the buttocks of young boys." 

"What qualities do you look for in a buttock?" I asked, seeing how far I 
could pursue the point with Mrs. T. 

"Firmness and shape," she answered immediately. "I like a boy to have a 
solid little seat. I don't like fat asses and a pimple on a nice buttock can 
wreck everything. I do, however, insist on the proper shape. A good pair of 
buttocks will be rounded gracefully but certainly not to excess. Flatness is 
terrible. It's just like a woman who is flat chested." 

"I see," I said. Mrs. T.'s last remark caused me to notice her own breasts. 
They were firm and rounded, almost as if to match the description she'd just 
given for the ideal buttocks. Her breasts were very attractive and, if 
anything, tended to be larger than the average. "But how," I inquired, "did 
this whole affair about buttocks begin?" 

Mrs. T. told me this story.... 

...You see, doctor, the whole thing about buttocks began with a fixation 
about slapping young boys across the buttocks. And it began about two years 
ago a few weeks after my divorce. 

I was asked by a woman who lived in my neighborhood to stay at her house one 
evening with her two sons. The boys were ages ten and thirteen and they were 
always getting into mischief while their parents were away. The boys' mother 
thought they'd probably burn the whole house down by the time the parents 
got home unless someone was there to watch them. 

The older boy's name was Roger. He was thirteen. The ten-year-old's name was 
Mike. Between them they became double trouble for my pussy that night. 

Before going out for the evening their mother had told me one thing which I 
was to remember above all others. 

"If the boys start any kind of trouble," she told me, "there's only one kind 
of punishment they understand. The physical kind." 

"Exactly what does that mean?" I asked. 

"Spanking," the boys' father said. "A good crisp thrashing across the rump 
is the only thing either of them can understand. I'd escalate and start 
kicking them in the nuts if I could, but my wife won't let me." 

"Well," I said, "I really don't think I'll have any trouble with Roger and 
Mike. I've always gotten along well with them." 

"That's more than anyone else can say," said their father. "The last 
babysitter we got for them ended up bound and gagged and lock in the 
cellar." 

"I guess they just didn't like her," I answered hopefully. 

"Her?" laughed the boys' father. " 'She' was a two hundred pound fireman." 

Well, I let the parents go out and I kept my fingers crossed. Frankly I was 
kind of hoping that there'd be a little excitement that evening. I'd been 
home alone most nights since I'd kicked out my husband. I was getting pretty 
lonely, pretty bored and frankly, pretty horny. The only relief I'd gotten 
lately was from a big seven inch dark brown vibrator which I'd purchased at 
the local drugstore. And what an embarrassing time I'd had in buying it. 
When I'd picked up the vibrator off the shelf and taken it to the register 
to pay for it, the girl behind the counter started to giggle and said that 
she understood that I was now divorced. The nerve. If I want to dildo 
myself, it's my business and no one else's. 

The boys fooled around in the house that evening while I watched television. 
A few hours went by and they caused no trouble at all. I was sitting 
downstairs watching the television news when a special feature report came 
on. 

The report was about young teenagers and pre-teenagers and how they were 
starting to have sex at earlier ages all the time. The television reporter 
told how it was now not unusual for children of eleven and twelve to be 
steadily screwing with other kids in their class at school. The reporter 
even interviewed one little boy of twelve who reportedly had inseminated two 
teenage girls of sixteen. 

"How did you first learn about sex?" the reporter asked that very appealing 
youngster. 

"From a friend," he said, not willing to confess to much at first. 

"A girl friend at your school?" the reporter pressed. 

"No, sir," said the boy. "From one of my mother's friends." 

"An older man told you the facts of life?" questioned the reporter. 

"No, sir," said the boy, now gleefully starting to talk a bit more. "An 
older woman taught me about the facts of life." 

"An older woman?" the reporter repeated for emphasis. 

"That's right," said the boy. "She was about twenty years older than me, but 
she taught me how to-! " 

The last word was bleeped so that the television audience would remain 
innocent. But I knew what that youngster had been talking about. And it sure 
set my mind to wondering about the two boys who were underneath that same 
roof with me right now. 

I got thinking about those healthy husky youngsters and the next thing I 
knew my pussy was starting to develop that sense of longing that I'd felt so 
much of lately. Down in my pussy there was an intense desire which became 
worse and worse the more I thought about those two boys. I knew that pretty 
soon I'd have to get myself a real male with a real live cock. A vibrator 
can only hold a girl for so long. 

Suddenly I head shouting and banging upstairs where the boys were. Then I 
heard a loud crash. They'd broken something. 

"The little bastards!" I cursed to myself as I jumped up from my chair and 
started quickly upstairs. "They're up to the same old stunts!" 

Then I heard another bang and another crash. They were in their parents' 
bedroom. And they were doing something obviously that they shouldn't. 

I raced up the rest of those stairs and went directly to the room all the 
noise was coming from. I threw open the door and looked in. There they were. 
One boy, Mike, the ten-year-old, had a baseball glove on one hand and was 
holding a softball in the other. Roger, the thirteen-year-old, was holding a 
baseball bat. 

They looked at me and smiled as I stood furiously in the doorway. They had 
already knocked over a big ceramic lamp and had broken it. Another lamp lay 
on the floor. The covers were off the beds and bottles of their mother's 
perfume were scattered all over the floor. 

"You little monsters!" I howled. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" 

They smiled at me. "Playing baseball," said Roger casually. And with that 
his brother tossed the ball at Roger. Roger, holding the baseball bat, swung 
the bat and connected with the ball. He hit a line drive over his brother's 
head and sent it crashing through the huge picture window in that room. 

"Home run!" they bellowed with pride. "The ball game is over!" 

"It sure is!" I screamed. I entered the room and slammed the door behind me. 
I remembered their parents' instructions. If ever a pair of male children 
deserved a good paddling across the ass, these two sure deserved it now. The 
trouble was that my attempts to punish them would soon develop into just 
another score for them. 

I went for Roger first since he was bigger and was more- likely to get away. 
He dropped the baseball bat, giggled, and tried to evade me when I lunged 
for him. 

But little did he know back then two years ago, that he wasn't just dealing 
with any old thirty-six-year-old woman. When I was a senior in high school I 
had been the captain of the girls' field hockey team. I was as much of a 
jock as anyone without a penis could be. 

I grabbed Roger by the back of his shirt and I hauled him to me. I moved to 
the bed and sat down on the edge of it. 

"Damn it!" I thought. "He's such a big boy to have to spank. This could be 
tough!" 

He struggled with me but not enough. As I sat on the edge of that bed I 
managed to undo his belt and start working his pants down. Mike, the 
ten-year-old, stood in that doorway. He had started to flee but now he was 
fascinated at the sight of his older brother about to get his ass whacked. I 
looked away from Mike and then looked again at him, doing a fast double 
take. 

I thought I'd seen. ... Yes! I had seen a great big bulging under the crotch 
of the ten-year-old's pants. I couldn't believe it. Seeing his brother 
trying to resist a spanking was giving ten-year-old Mike an erection. Worse, 
his erection was giving me a hornier and hornier pussy. I thought back at 
what I'd seen and heard on that television. Suddenly those two young boys 
were sex objects again. I kept thinking about fucking with them as I worked 
Roger's pants down and off. 

His hands tried to cover his ass, but I pushed his hands away. Down came the 
underpants with a good hard yank. Then his round firm fleshy bare white ass 
was spread perfectly across my lap. 

I looked at that ass and again I glanced up at young Mike. Mike's hands were 
down at his crotch now and the boy was obviously feeling his hard penis from 
the outside of his zipper. 

As Roger kicked and squealed I slapped the flat of my palm across the cheeks 
of his ass. The slap crackled through that room. I saw the big red mark form 
across the boy's bare buttocks and I slapped again, bringing my palm down 
crisply on that same reddened spot on his white buttock cheeks. 

Again and again I slapped. Each time the slap resounded through my whole 
body and built that sense of urgency down in my pussy. Then I felt something 
wriggle in my lap. It was something around on the other side of the boy's 
ass. It was his penis, wriggling and stiffening up to life. 

I slapped his ass harder and harder, trying to deny the thoughts that were 
going through my mind and trying to ignore the feelings that were zipping 
through my poor pussy. Young Roger's cock was hard as a big spike in my lap. 
It was even trying to point down between my legs where my pussy was all hot 
and wet. Mike kept watching me from the doorway. And suddenly, even though 
my attention was riveted on the bare ass in my lap, I knew I had to get out 
of that room. Otherwise I was certain that I was going to go for one or both 
of those big penises. 

I let Roger glide off my lap. He stood up in front of me and I tried to look 
him in the eye. 

"That's your punishment," I tried to say bravely, "until your parents get 
home." 

"You didn't do anything to me," he said with a devilish glint in his eye, 
"except make my prick hard." 

I glanced down to his crotch. He stood there in front of me smiling with his 
pants down to his knees and his big hard penis pointing upwards and staring 
me right in the face. It was true. The spanking had made his penis as hard 
as a cement wall. And that penis down there in that potent young crotch was 
beginning to look irresistible. 

I couldn't believe what was happening. The boys knew they had me sexually! 
Boys so young as ten and thirteen about to conquer a woman who was 
thirty-six at the time. I couldn't believe it. But my pussy was giving me 
the distress call. I had to have cock. And those two boys sensed it. 

Mike reached down to his pants. I studied his hand as he lowered it to his 
zipper. He pulled the zipper down and then lowered his pants completely. Out 
came his prick. There wasn't much hair on it but it was hard. He was 
exposing himself to me and I was loving it. 

"Bet you're pretty horny since the divorce," chirped Roger as he stood right 
in front of me with his hard cock sticking right out at me. "Bet you sure 
could use a bit of a shafting down in your slot." 

"I don't believe it," I muttered to myself. But the next thing I remember 
doing was reaching forward to the boy I had just spanked. I reached around 
his hips and held my bare hand on the warm crimsoned cheeks of his ass. I 
drew him to me. When his penis was just inches from my face I took it into 
my mouth. I began to suck on it as I held my two hands to his ass to hold 
the boy steady. He placed his own hands on my head as I sucked him. 

Without saying anything Mike dropped his pants completely and took his shirt 
off. He was completely bare when he came over to me to get a good look at 
the way I was sucking on his brother's penis. It had been so long since I'd 
held a whang between my lips. It was exciting to get one back in there. It 
was even more exciting to become sexually aroused with two boys of such 
tender ages. There was a certain air of deviltry to what we were going to 
do; yet there was an air of innocence about it, too. 

I reached to my skirt and unsnapped the waist buttons. Then I began to open 
my sweater. Roger reached in and held my breasts before I even got my 
sweater off. Mike tugged on my skirt. 

Off came the skirt, then the sweater. Then my blouse and I was down to 
panties and bra. It was so exciting. The ten-year-old reached behind me and 
unhooked my bra while thirteen-year-old Roger began to draw down my panties. 

The bra came off first, baring my breasts. The boys were fascinated with my 
big womanly knockers and they had to paw them and nibble at them for a few 
seconds. I lay backwards onto their parents' bed as both boys nipped at my 
tits. At one point there was a boy nibbling on each tit, a situation which 
absolutely forced me to push my hand down beneath my waist and start to play 
with my clitoris. 

My panties were down a few inches. They hadn't uncovered my bush yet, but 
Roger quickly rectified that situation. He pulled the panties down off my 
bush and the boys were every bit as fascinated with my bush as they had been 
with my tits. They had to poke their little noses down there to sniff it and 
they had to paw their curious little palms across it to feel it. All any of 
that accomplished was to make it wetter. 

Then I lay back on top of that bed and begged for them to go on with it. 
"Who's first?" I pleaded. "Who wants to be first?" 

I looked to the ten-year-old and he giggled. I was still amazed that a boy 
of ten could even be capable of an erection. But he was, no doubt about it. 
I don't think he had been able to get one for very long because his little 
crotch was still almost bare. But that short young rod was hard. That was 
the important thing. 

Mike's big brother, the old man of thirteen, did the trick on me. As I 
opened my legs he moved his body right on top of mine. He fumbled around 
down there and I had to reach down and hold his penis, guiding it into the 
slot. 

Then I felt the head of it gliding past the lips of my vagina. There I was, 
the thirty-six-year-old babysitter getting planked by the two kids she was 
supposed to be supervising. But I didn't care. I hadn't been screwed since 
before my divorce. And the most erotic thing I'd seen in months had been 
Roger's bare ass. 

The boy glided his penis in and out of me. I reached down and clutched his 
ass as he fucked me. He wasn't that big physically so I was able to get my 
hands on his buttocks, administering little slaps to those buttocks as his 
long shaft glided in and out of me. 

I panted and savored the feel of a penis down inside me again. I heard a 
slight slapping sound right next to me on the bed and I looked up. Mike was 
gliding his hand up and down the long shaft of his penis. The boy was 
masturbating briskly. I didn't care. The little boy who was on top of me and 
who was penetrating my pussy was giving me the workout that I'd been 
yearning for, for so long. 

Roger moved his penis back and forth inside me while his brother worked on 
his own penis with the same pace. I kept up those little slaps on Roger's 
ass and they seemed to please everyone. I liked them and they made me 
orgasm. It thrilled Mike to see it and it obviously titillated Roger. How do 
I know? Roger's penis was puffing up like a balloon. It wouldn't take long 
before it unloaded. 

I orgasmed all over Roger's young rod and built my way up for a long 
sustained blast when his penis was at its full length and potential. 

"Now," I moaned to the boy as I wriggled with him on top of his mother's 
bed. "Come now. Please Roger! Come now when I do!" 

Roger's prick seemed to freeze at full erection. He withheld his come from 
me while my own pussy went berserk. I felt something spattering against my 
side and my neck. It was Mike's young rod, spitting forth the youngest seeds 
I'd ever received. I orgasmed vigorously knowing that young Mike had come 
from watching me. Then I felt Roger's penis erupt with its inevitable 
flourish of come. 

My orgasm was almost over when Roger's cock exploded with its long hard 
rushes of hot satisfying come. My orgasm, on the tail end of its thrust, 
began anew when it felt the pussy being inundated with warm cream. 

"Oh, Roger, yes!" I moaned as his penis spasmed its hot load down into me. 
"Oh, yes, definitely!" 

The penis shot forth several hard gushes of come and I thrust my pussy 
forward to catch each one of them as they burst forward from that long hard 
shaft of that thirteen-year-old boy. It seemed like he'd never stop coming. 
Yet when his cock did finally dribble to a finish, the whole thing was over 
much too soon to suit me.... 

...Mrs. T. concluded her story at that point and allowed me to question her 
in the few minutes which remained in that interview session. Before going 
too far, however, I asked her if she would schedule another appointment with 
Miss Johnson before leaving my office. I already knew that Mrs. T. had more 
to tell me than I could possibly draw out of her in a single meeting. 

"Tell me, Mrs. T., " I then said to. my subject in the remaining moments of 
her first interview session, "was this incident the first time you noticed a 
sexual fixation with male buttocks." 

"I think so," she said in reply." My husband used to have a nice ass before 
he put on weight and let it get all flabby. But I never really had the 
overriding curiosity about asses as I suddenly had with this experience with 
Roger. It was as if something snapped inside my head when I felt and heard 
the palm of my hand slapping against his bare little buttock cheeks." 

"Right after this odd 'snapping' in your mind," I asked, "you had sex with 
the older of the two boys. You described the act as very satisfying. Just 
how satisfying was it?" 

"'very," she said. "But in an odd way. It was one of those delicious fucks 
where a woman is completely worn out by the male. Yet the act was so good 
that it made me hungry for more sex soon again." 

"Did you manage it with the boys again?" I asked. 

"I did," she said. "I screwed with young Roger twice more. That just shows 
you how satisfying that boy was. I wanted him again even though he got me 
into a lot of trouble with his parents." 

"Did they find out about the sex between you and their sons?" I asked. 

"No, it wasn't that," she explained. "Those boys were very clever. Not only 
did they use my body to have their little orgasms, but they also used me to 
cover up all those things they broke in their parents' bedroom." 

"How?" I asked. 

"Roger told me that if I knew what was good for me I'd tell their parents 
that it was I who broke the window and the lamps. 'Nonsense, Roger,' I said 
to him. 'We'll have to tell your parents the truth.'" 

"And what did he say?" 

"He said that if I told the truth about that he'd tell the truth about me 
having sex with the boys. 'Your parents would never believe that,' I 
countered boldly. 'All you'd do is brand yourself as a liar, Roger.' " 

"And what did he say to that?" 

"He told me that all he had to do was to describe the little mole which ifl 
on the left cheek of my ass and describe the little red birthmark which is 
just inside my right thigh. Well, I turned white when he mentioned those 
things. I knew he had me." 

"So you confessed to doing all that damage yourself?" I asked Mrs. T. 

"That's right," she said. "I made up a story and told them a big fat lie 
even while the semen was still swimming around in my pussy." 

"One final question, Mrs. T., " I then said. "You stated that a deep 
fascination with male buttocks began with this sexual incident. How 
prominently do buttocks become in future incidents with youngsters?" 

"'very," she said in a frank tone of voice. "Slapping around at the buttocks 
is an integral form of foreplay with me." 

"Do the young boys understand?" I asked. 

"I think so," she said. "Most of them get very hard when I slap their little 
tails. I think they understand that a few good brisk slaps across the ass is 
a good turn-on for both of us." 

"Would you describe one of these buttock-oriented arrangements at our next 
meeting?" I asked. 

"I'd be happy to," she said. "I'll tell you about my favorite ass-oriented 
fucking session if you really want to hear about it." 

"I do, Mrs. T., " I said. "I most certainly do. 

Miss Johnson re-scheduled Mrs. T. for a second interview, and in the few 
moments that I had between patients, I made a few brief notes about the case 
of Mrs. T. 

I do no want to go into my detailed analysis of her case at this time. 
Instead, I'd rather save my conclusions until the reader has had a chance to 
study the bizarre tale she told in her second interview. I would, however, 
like to make one point clear to the reader. 

From Mrs. T.'s testimony it was clear that somehow the spanking she 
administered to little Roger's bare backside had kindled a new sexual fire 
within her. Often women who haven't had sex for a time will undergo this 
experience. Male buttocks are erotic, of course, and will arouse most women. 
But in this particular case, I sensed the potential of a serious fixation on 
the part of Mrs. T. I think her second interview proved that my initial 
observation was correct. ii 

"I'd like to tell you about my experience in fucking little Denny Roberts," 
Mrs. T. said to me on her return to my office. "Without any question he's 
the best little cocksman who has ever penetrated my comfortable little 
bush." 

"Where did you meet the boy?" I asked Mrs. T. 

"Oddly enough," she said, "I met him at a newsstand. That's what started 
everything." 

"Could you give me a few more details about the meeting?" I asked. 

"It was no big deal, doctor. I happened to go into a newsstand in my town to 
get the afternoon newspaper. Well, there was a magazine stand near the soda 
fountain. Little Denny was standing there thumbing through some magazines." 

"And...?" I pressed. 

"Well, he looked like a handsome young boy. I could only see him from behind 
and I could tell that he had a nice ass. His buttocks were firm like I like 
them and had a nice curve to them. So after I paid for my newspaper I 
wandered over to the magazine stand to see what he was thumbing through." 

"Actually you wanted to get a better look at him," I suggested to Mrs. T. 
"Isn't that actually the case?" 

She smiled. "I guess you're right, doctor," she said. "He was wearing a 
little pair of shorts and his legs looked so strong and cute. I figured he 
was in his early teens." 

"What happened next?" I inquired. 

Mrs. T. told me this story.... 

...When I went over to see what he was reading I thought I'd discover that 
he was looking at some sports magazine. But no. He was at that age where 
sports become a boy's number two interest. The number one interest, far and 
away, is the female pussy. 

Little Denny was staring at some girlie magazine. I could see pictures of 
two girls on two different pages. One on the pictures showed the girl's bare 
ass very clearly. The other page had a frontal view of the same girl. I 
could see the big black triangle between her legs and I could see the 
evident interest with which Denny was looking at her bush. 

"Shameful," I said to the boy. "What's nice clean boy like you looking at 
pictures like that for?" 

He was very surprised to have anyone say anything to him. He fumbled with 
the magazine and answered me very defensively. 

"Cut it out, lady," he said back to me. "I'm old enough to look at bare 
pussies if I want to." 

"Of course you are," I said teasingly. "That's why I think it's so shameful 
that you have to look at pictures of bare pussies." 

"Huh?" he asked. 

"How old are you, young man?" I asked. 

"Thirteen ... and a half?" he said proudly. 

"Why I thought you were much older!" I said to him, trying to inflate his 
ego and his prick at the same time. "I thought you might be closer to 
eighteen or twenty!" 

"Really?" he asked with a big smile. 

"Oh, yes," I said softly. "Obviously, you're very big for your age. And I 
guess if you were shown a real bare pussy you'd know what to do with it." 

"Do with it?" he repeated excitedly. 

"Why, yes," I said. "If I thought you'd know exactly how to service and 
satisfy a real bare pussy, I could be persuaded to take you to it." 

He tried to stand up as tall as possible. He stuffed the magazine back on 
the rack like a real man and looked me squarely in the eye. 

"I fuck 'em all the time," the boy said to me. "You just lead me to it and 
I'll perform on it." 

"Well...." I said, drawing the word out and trying to make him all the more 
anxious. 

"Please, lady?" he begged. 

"Why don't you come out to my car," I said. "There are two things I need to 
know about you that I can't ask you about right here." 

Denny and I walked out to my car which fortunately had been parked in a 
deserted section of the parking lot. I got into the driver's seat and Denny 
climbed into the seat next to me. 

"What did you want to ask me?" the boy asked. I looked around to make sure 
that no one could see what we were about to do. 

"I want to see what your penis looks like," I said. "Show it to me." 

"Here?" he gulped. 

"Do you know of a better place?" I asked. "But-?" 

"Do what I say, young man," I said as I sat watching him. "Take down those 
shorts. Otherwise you won't be getting a free ride off to see the bare 
pussies." 

He obeyed, but he obeyed slowly. He took down his zipper and unbuckled the 
belt at the waist of those shorts. Then he pulled down those shorts and his 
underpants, too. 

As his pants came down I could see a hairy little crotch with an admirable 
enough penis sticking out of it. His rod was limp when the pants came down. 
But when I learned across the seat and took the limp rod in my hands, the 
organ sprang very quickly to life. 

His rod stiffened up. I could see the head of it began to swell into a huge 
throbbing knob. I ran my fingers up and down the shaft. I decided that yes, 
his penis would most certainly please me. 

"Now the ass," I said. 

"The ass?" he questioned. 

"You heard me," I said. "Who ever heard of picking up a male without making 
a thorough inspection of his most important areas?" 

"But-?" 

"If you're not interested in showing me your ass and getting yourself laid, 
just don't show it to me. Instead you can get out of the car and go back to 
jiggling your whang over pictures in magazines." 

He got the hint. He turned over in the seat and showed me his two white 
buttocks. Becoming inspired, I reached over and felt them, cupping the palm 
of my hand under each of those bare round buttocks. 

"What are you doing?" he asked me as he felt my hand moving around back 
there. 

"Just checking the equipment," I said. "Shut up and keep still." 

I moved my hand all over his ass while I kept looking around the parking lot 
to make sure no one was watching. Then I let my cupped palm wander a little 
further until it went under his ass and cupped itself right up under his 
hairy dangling nuts. 

"Feel good?" I asked. 

"Uhhuh," he moaned, giving me an affirmative answer. I rubbed his balls from 
the underside until I could feel the penis stiffen to its maximum erection 
over those balls. He liked what he felt and I liked what I felt. It was a 
perfect deal. I would let the boy fuck me. 

"That's enough," I said as I looked at the little brown hole between those 
twin white buttocks of his. "Pull up those shorts and let's get out of 
here." 

He obeyed. He pulled those shorts up and I stuffed the key into the car 
ignition, just as I hoped that the boy would soon be stuffing his own key 
into me. 

We only had to drive a few miles to my house. Fortunately it was early 
enough in the day so that not many of the neighbors were home. I wouldn't 
have wanted them to see me bringing that sexy little boy into my house. They 
would have gotten the wrong idea ... or the right idea, depending on what 
you want to call it. 

During our ride to my house he told me that his name was Denny. By the time 
we got to the house I was asking him about his girl friends at school. 

"Now, Denny," I said to him as we passed through the front door of my house, 
"back there in the magazine store you told me that you'd done lot of 
fucking. Was that just a bullshit line to impress me? Or is it true?" 

The boy's face became slightly flushed at the cheeks. 

"I must know the truth, Denny," I chided. "I want to be an intimate friend 
of yours so you must tell me the whole truth." 

"I've had a few girls in school make me come by rubbing up against me," he 
said. "But I've never been inside any of their pussies." 

"You rubbed against them?" I asked curiously. "Will you tell me about that?" 

I sat down in a big easy chair. Denny tried to sit down in a different seat 
across the room. But I wouldn't let him. "It's a very big room," I said to 
him. "We should sit very close. You should be on my lap." 

"But-?" 

"Do what I say, Denny," I said. "And answer my questions. Are you going to 
tell me how they rub up against you?" 

"I guess," he said as he came over to me. "Where's the naked pussy you 
promised?" 

"You'll see it in just a few minutes," I promised him. "But you have to 
answer my questions first." 

Denny sat his little ass down on my lap. He was a big youngster and was 
almost my height even though he hadn't even seen his fourteenth birthday 
yet. As his ass sat in my lap I looked at how his bare young legs jutted out 
of his shorts. As he sat in my lap and began to tell, I wrapped one arm 
around his hips and let my other hand fall right midway between his knee and 
his penis. 

"I don't even know if they knew if I was coming," he said to me as he began 
to explain about that rubbing." 

"How did you do it then?" I asked. "Obviously your penis isn't bare if they 
didn't even know whether you were ejaculating or not." 

"My clothes are always on," he said. "What happens is we go out for a date 
and then end up making out later. Then I lock them up in a firm embrace and 
start pushing my rod against them when our bodies are very close." 

"And you rub until you come," I said, concluding his sentence for him. 

"That's right," he said. "I squirt off in my pants. Mom can't understand why 
I always have so many stains in my underpants, but the come feels very good 
when I have it." 

"All comes feel good," I reminded him. "You're going to have an excellent 
come in just a few minutes right in this house." 

"Yeah?" he asked. I looked to his crotch and saw that it was starting to 
bulge from underneath. 

"I guess you rub up against these young girls when your rod is good and 
hard," I said. He nodded. 

"like right now," I suggested. "I'll bet that your rod is hard enough now to 
rub up against a woman." 

He blushed again slightly. But he agreed. "It is," he said. 

I moved my hand to his rod and pressed on it from outside of his shorts. He 
moaned and I ran my fingers up and down his cock from the outside. I could 
feel his ass on my lap and that was thoroughly juicing my poor pussy, too. 

"Did you ever ask your little girl friends if you could put your penis 
inside them?" I asked the boy. 

"I ask them all the time," he said. "But it doesn't help much. None of them 
want to be deflowered until they're older: maybe fifteen or sixteen." 

"That's why older women can be so much nicer, Denny," I said to the boy. 
"Old women don't worry about silly things like their hymens. Do you know why 
they don't worry about their hymens?" 

"Because they don't have hymens anymore," he replied triumphantly. 

"That's right," I said, increasing my downward and forward strokes on his 
rod. 

"What about the pussy I'm going to fuck," he then said. "Is there a hymen in 
that one?" 

"Oh, no, Denny," I laughed. "There hasn't been a hymen down there for almost 
seventeen years." 

"Wow!" he exclaimed. "That's longer than I've been around." 

"Yes, Denny," I said, "but don't ever scoff at the older more mature 
pussies. They're the ones who know best how to satisfy men." 

"Wow!" he yelped again. "My cock is so hard that it's starting to hurt." 

"That means just one thing, Denny," I said. 

"That means that your long hard penis should be given a special treatment 
which will make it feel better." 

"Treatment?" 

"It has to be inserted into an area which will be warm and moist and soft, 
an area which will treat the penis kindly and massage it back and forth with 
warm moist folds." 

"You're going to make me come!" he exclaimed. I loved to watch young boys 
getting so excited. They put all the thrill into fucking that my husband had 
taken out. 

"That's right, Denny," I said. "I certainly am. Take down your shorts and 
I'll show you the pussy your penis is going to service." 

The boy hopped up to his feet He pulled his little shirt up over his head 
and off. He dropped it to the floor. Then he unbuckled his shorts and let 
them slide down his legs and off. He stepped out of them as I admired the 
bulge beneath his underpants. Then he lowered those underpants and out came 
the rod. 

His rod was even more desirable now than I had thought it would be. I was 
hornier now, of course, which meant that any penis would have been good. But 
there was something about the fresh and unused penis of a boy of thirteen 
that really juiced my box. 

"Where's the pussy?" he asked as he stood there naked in front of me with 
his great big whang sticking straight out forward. 

I stood up. I reached to my shirt and unbuttoned the front of it, letting it 
open so that he could see my great big breasts. 

"Yours?" he asked excitedly. "Do I get to see your bush?" 

"You get to see all of me," I told him. "And most men think it's something 
of a real treat." 

His hard penis gave a little wag as I took my shirt off and let him see me 
completely topless. But then I took down my skirt and stood there in nothing 
but my bikini panties. Then I hooked both thumbs into the waistband of those 
panties and I gradually began to draw them down. 

"Oh, shit," the boy squealed. "A real live cunt!" 

"Not just a real live cunt," I said to him as my pussy became slowly visible 
to the thirteen-year-old. "But a nice comfortable one for a young man like 
you to have his first real ejaculation into. You have no idea how much 
better your ejaculation will feel while it's inside the warm recesses of a 
wet vagina." 

Down came the panties to my ankles. I was completely nude. I felt like just 
pushing the boy down on the floor and sitting down on his rod. But before I 
could do that I was again overwhelmed by my fixation. I wanted to see and 
toy with that boy's buttocks. I had to have that kind of foreplay or my 
orgasms just wouldn't be right. 

Yes, the buttocks were something that I had to have contact with. So I took 
the boy by the hand and led him to a great big fur rug in the den of my 
house. Then I pulled him down, hard penis and all, onto that fur rug with 
me. The first thing I did was lie side by side with him and kiss him on his 
moist young lips. 

"This will be just like making out," I said to him. "Except you're not 
allowed to waste your semen by rubbing against me. And second, after making 
out you'll be able to attain yourself in the only proper way for a man to 
attain himself. 

Our lips met. Our mouths open and my tongue explored his tongue and the 
insides of his lips. Even though we were lying far apart the tip of his 
penis was touching the top of my pussy hairs. 

"Can ... can I touch your boobs?" he asked me with a boyish panting voice. 

"Don't your girl friends let you touch their nipples?" I asked him. 

He shook his head. 

"You mean you've never touched bare breasts before and you're almost 
fourteen years old?" 

He shook his head again. No, he hadn't ever touched bare boobs. Mine would 
be the first. 

"You go right ahead and touch them all you want, Denny," I said to that 
excited young boy. "Hold them firm and really give them a milking if you 
want. I think your girl friends are being stubborn with you." 

"I think so, too," he agreed as his little palms pressed against my hard big 
dark nipples. 

"Those girls are being tighter than turtle pussy with you," I advised him. 
"I'd shit all over them if I were you. A boy with a handsome instrument like 
yours doesn't have to put up with shit like that." 

"I guess I need a new girl friend," he confessed. 

I looked down to that handsome young rod of his and I admired his virgin 
balls. Then I brought my hands down to around his hips and slid them along 
the curve of his hips until each palm clutched one of those handsome buttock 
cheeks of his. 

"Denny," I moaned as I felt that fine hard muscular young ass of his, 
"you've already got a new girl friend. She's a lovely young naked woman of 
thirty-eight." 

He cooed a little bit and I managed to draw one hand away from his ass just 
long enough to rub the tender tip of my finger across the nozzle of his 
penis to pick up moisture and then across that sensitive little area right 
under the head of his rod. He didn't coo when I did that to him. He gave me 
a long satisfied moan. 

But then I became absolutely set on my buttock fixation. I moved that one 
hand back to his buttocks and then started to hold his buttocks so that the 
cheeks were spread apart. I wriggled my fingers between his cheeks and I 
started to toy with the boy's little brown back door. 

I could feel that he was trying to tighten the cheeks of his ass so that my 
probing fingers couldn't get into his back door. But no one keeps out a 
woman as persistent as I am. I kept wriggling my fingers into his crack. 
Finally my index finger of the right hand drifted right into his rectum. I 
poked it in. He moaned as he was penetrated. 

"I'll bet you thought that only the women gets penetrated," I said to him. 
"That's not true. It's just one of the many myths you hear about the female 
of the species." 

He moaned again. I rotated my finger in a circular motion around his ass. It 
was penetrating a good four inches in now and Denny was enjoying it. I 
grabbed tightly to his buttocks as I twisted that finger. And yet, as I 
watched the boy's reaction and as I watched his smiling face as I twisted 
that finger, I began to get insanely jealous. I had an ass and a rosy red 
rectum, too. Why wasn't I being toyed with in the same way? 

"I will be toyed with that way!" I swore to myself. "And Denny will do the 
toying." 

But first things first. I played with his ass and his rectum until my wrists 
began to get tired. I instructed him to put his hand on my pussy and toy 
with me in a similar way. He did. But my vagina was already hot and wet. I 
needed the penis in there. Then we could tend to my rosy red back door a 
little later. 

I rolled over onto my stomach and I began to get to my hands and knees. 
"It's time," I told him. 

"Time?" 

"Time for you to become a man," I said to the thirteen-year-old. "Time for 
you to jab that throbbing tool into the slot it fits in." 

"Aren't you going to lie on your back?" he asked. 

"We're going to do it the way dogs, cats and horses do it," I said to him. 
"I want it done that way because I want to feel flesh pressing to my ass 
cheeks. Any objections?" 

"None," he said. "But I don't know how to-" 

"Just get up there!" I demanded. "Everything fits where it should." 

Denny's young hands planted themselves firmly on my trim bare hips. I could 
feel the head of his long hard stick as it bumped against my buttocks in two 
or three spots. Then he steadied himself. 

"Do you see my ass-hole?" I asked as I held my legs apart but remained down 
on all fours. I had my ass in the air very conveniently for him. He had a 
clear shot at my vagina from the underneath backside route. He couldn't miss 
this shot. 

"Aim underneath it," I said. "Aim four inches underneath it and you can't 
miss." 

He slowly brought his penis between my legs from the underneath side. I 
could feel that long shaft slip by the skin of my buttocks and my inner 
thighs. But then I could feel the head of it slipping by the outer lips of 
my vagina. It was a moment that would thrill any woman. 

"Oh, Denny," I moaned as the head of that penis pushed two inches into me 
from that doggie style, backside fuck position. "Tell me again. Has it ever 
been in another girl?" 

"You're the first," he said. "No one else has ever even seen it bare." 

"Oh, you little doll," I squealed as it lunged another two, three, four 
inches into me. "Oh, it's so good. The penis was pure until this very 
second." 

"You're the first," the boy said again. And then he thrust his loins forward 
with a final thrust that shoved that long rod of his as far in as any man's 
shaft could go. 

"Now stroke," I pleaded. "Stroke as hard and fast as you can!" 

The boy started to move that long tool of his back and forth. His young 
hands held my hips as the penis sloshed back and forth. I muffled my face 
down in that fur rug as he pronged me from the backside. His virgin penis 
was slipping in and out now as if it were a greased eel popping in and out 
of there. I was so excited that within a few more seconds and a few more 
good hard strokes I was starting to orgasm. 

That rod of his never stopped. It sent me off into the land of orgasms and 
it just kept pumping until I was almost shrieking with delight. Over and 
over he pronged me with that long rod of his. And then suddenly I was aware 
that he was going to ejaculate. His cock was pressing farther in than ever. 
I knew there had to be an ejaculation brewing. 

I slammed my buttocks backward at that rod of his and I felt his young balls 
swinging madly as his prong sailed in and out of me. His penis was pressing 
way down into me. Now it was jabbing in farther than ever. Each time he 
thrust forward with it I started to utter a loud hard shriek of joy. He was 
making me orgasm so hard that I was wailing for joy each time he pumped 
forward. He kept it up for several long strokes. Then he came. 

I felt his penis spasm, spit and gush its hot load straight forward into my 
slot. I howled with the delights of orgasm as I felt all that hot come shoot 
way down into me. 

"Oh, Denny, yes!" I howled. "Squirt me as much as you can!" I felt five hard 
shots of come squirt into me. Then two more hard ones. A couple of more 
shots came out of his prick with declining force. But then I ground my ass 
backwards at his rod and I must have caught the boy's sperm supply by 
surprise. 

As I ground my ass back that way his penis came alive for three last hard 
shots, shots so intense that they shot out of him so crisply that he 
squealed. Then his prick dribbled its final few drops into me as his hands 
began to relase my hips. Finally I let myself glide forward, pulling my 
vagina away from his whang and giving out with a huge vaginal fart which 
grossed the boy out for a few seconds. 

I lay there on that rug, too fucked to move. I was panting for my breath as 
the boy lay down beside me and began, in the final bliss of his own orgasm, 
to nibble gently on my right nipple. 

We panted for our collective breath and I patted him on his young firm 
buttocks. I wasn't through with him yet for that day. But for the moment I 
was content to lie there with a satisfied pussy and sperm oozing from my 
vaginal lips.... 

...Mrs. T.'s story was nearing conclusion so I asked her a few final 
questions which would bring the story to completion. I felt that I had heard 
enough to give Mrs. T. a sound analysis of her case. I didn't want her story 
to run so long that a third appointment would be necessary. 

"You say you weren't through with him for the day, Mrs. T., " I said to her. 
"What do you mean by that?" 

"I mean that I wanted some more cock off this young fucker," she said to me. 
"But this time I wanted it a way that I'd never gotten it before. Up the 
rosy red rectum." 

"I recall that you mentioned that one boy had had anal sex with you, Mrs. 
T., " I said, thinking back to our first interview. "Was this he?" 

"It sure was," she said. 

"Wasn't it rather radical to introduce a boy to anal sex on his first sexual 
encounter?" I asked. 

"Look, doctor," Mrs. T. said rather defensively, "if you're trying to make 
me feel bad about it, give up. A lot of boys get buggered by perverts and 
that's their introduction to anal sex. I was kind to Denny and he enjoyed 
it. We did it comfortably on a nice fur rug. What more could a kid want? In 
one day he knew more than a lot of full grown men know." 

"Thank you, Mrs. T., " I said to her. "That will be all." 

I moved immediately into a discussion of Mrs. T.'s case. She listened 
intently during my consultation-analysis and she asked intelligent questions 
throughout. By the time we finished she had acquired a much stronger 
knowledge of what she wanted sexually and why she wanted it. 

I explained that (as I suspected after the initial interview) Mrs. T. had 
developed a very serious buttock fixation. The fixation, however, was 
limited to young boys since it was from one such young boy that the fixation 
had been acquired. 

She asked me if such a sexual fixation was a serious problem. I answered 
that in her case it was not. It was common and it would probably run its 
course. 

The fixation, I explained, was similar to fixations often encountered by 
women who are divorced and suddenly not having sex as often as they 
previously had. Such fixations can take many forms. But almost always they 
are a psychological way of a woman breaking free from the sexual habits she 
had while married. 

Why was Mrs. T. so intrigued with young boys? That question appears to be 
rather elementary. Mrs. T., recently divorced, wanted to return to the 
innocence of her girlhood and try to forget the sexual unhappiness which was 
apparent within her marriage. Such an interest in children is common among 
divorcees these days. Increasingly common, I might add, since a desire to 
return to the "days of innocence" is so common a human wish. Young boys 
always appear to be an innocent new sexual "thing to do" after a marriage 
has failed. 

Yet, the desire to bed young boys is hardly a phenomenon found solely among 
divorcees. Married women are doing it as we've already seen. But then, too, 
there are cases such as the following one. 

In some cases, as the reader will soon discover, the seduction of a young 
boy is the result of a fierce mother-daughter rivalry. The case of Janette 
H. follows. Janette H. is a real and only one woman. Yet her case is similar 
to the experiences of hundreds of thousands of American wives and mothers. 
Some married women, it seems, cannot stand to have their daughters possess 
something that the mothers can't have ... such as a teenage boyfriend. 

 CASE HISTORY FOUR 

"I don't think I ever would have thought of doing it if I hadn't caught my 
daughter screwing with Joel," Mrs. Janette H. told me after Miss Johnson had 
introduced me to her and led her into my inner office. 

"Doing what?" I asked, trying to lure Mrs. H. quickly to the specifics of 
her case. 

"Stealing my daughter's boyfriend," she said. "But when I caught my 
fifteen-year-old daughter balling on the back lawn with her fifteen-year-old 
boyfriend, well, frankly I was jealous." 

"Jealous?" I asked. "In what way?" 

"Here my daughter was getting her pussy fucked at the age of fifteen," 
complained Mrs. H. "When I was fifteen I wasn't that lucky. I had my 
virginity right up until I was fucked on my honeymoon night at the age of 
twenty-one." 

"Is your husband the only man you've slept with?" I asked. "Besides whatever 
young boys you've seduced?" 

"No," she confessed with a slight sigh. "There have been two other men, too. 
One man was a neighbor of ours who swapped partners with us one weekend. You 
know how it works, doctor. I screwed with him and his wife balled with my 
husband." 

"And the other man?" I asked. 

"Just a casual friend," said Mrs. H. "We screwed five or six times about a 
year ago. Then we got bored with each other. My husband never found out." 

"But now you're interested in young boys?" I asked. 

"Not just young boys in general," she explained, "the ones I want are the 
ones my daughter dates. Better yet, I want the ones she screws with. I want 
to show those boys that Rita's bosomy old mom can toss a meaner fuck than 
young Rita can." 

Mrs. H. was thirty-seven years of age. She was blond and an attractive 
woman. When she initially came to my office she was wearing a very short 
skirt which few women of Mrs. H.'s age would be able to wear and look good 
in. 

Her face was free from any wrinkles or signs of age and her breasts, which 
were prominent beneath a tightly fitting .yellow blouse, were apparently 
firm and youthfully uplifted. As I began to listen to Mrs. H.'s story I 
became conscious of the fact that she was very much a young looking woman. I 
wondered if the reason she seemed to desire competition with her daughter 
was due purely to a pride in her own physicality or whether the reason could 
be found in deeper motives. 

"How many of your daughter's boyfriends have you managed to seduce?" I asked 
Mrs. H. 

"Five," she said with a smile. "But one of them presented me with a very 
ironic situation." 

"What was that?" I asked. 

"The reason I was seducing them," she explained, "was to prove that I, at my 
age could give them just as good a fuck as a teenager like my daughter 
could." 

"You've already mentioned that," I said. 

"Yes," she said. "But it backfired with one boy, a kid named Neil. It turned 
out that Neil had gone out with my daughter Rita a few times but had never 
slept with her." 

"Was there a reason that you know of?" I asked. 

"She just didn't like the boy," Mrs. H. explained. "She got rid of him 
before he could get her into the sack. She just didn't like him and didn't 
want to get screwed by him." 

"But you did?" 

"That's right," said Mrs. H. with a sly smile. "I put out for him and gave 
him an absolutely thrilling ride up and down on my nude trim body. Then 
after screwing we got talking. He told me that he was stunned by my wanting 
to go to bed with him since he had never even been able to get my daughter 
to take her bra off." 

"Were you sorry you'd slept with the boy?" I asked. 

"Not at all," said Mrs. H. "He was a good young cocksman. I figure I'm a few 
extra points up on Rita because I balled with a boy that she missed out on. 
There was nothing wrong with him, either. He was sixteen-years-old and hung 
like a young ape." 

I paused and made a few notes to myself as I listened to Mrs. H's words. 
Then I sought to move the conversation back to a more convenient starting 
point. 

"Mrs. H., " I said, "it would appear that this whole series of seductions 
began when you first caught your daughter having sex. Is that correct?" 

"That's what I told you," she said. 

"In that case I'd like to examine that original incident in detail," I said. 
"I'd like to hear about what you saw, what you were thinking about while you 
watched, and how you went about seducing a boy who was already sleeping with 
your daughter." 

"That's a tall order," said the attractive woman as she looked back to me 
with a smile. "But I think I can handle it." She then gave me this 
account.... 

...I really wasn't very surprised to catch my daughter fucking. Frankly, I 
figured that it would happen sooner or later. What bothered me about it was 
that she was growing up and becoming a woman just a little too fast for my 
own comfort. I still considered myself an attractive young woman. It pained 
me to be shown up by my daughter. 

What do I mean by "shown up"? I mean made to look old. Most men who see me 
on the street whistle at me and make kissing noises. They think I'm a 
twenty-year-old. Well, I like passing for a twenty-year-old. But if I've got 
a sexually active fifteen-year-old daughter around I guess it's pretty 
obvious that I'm older than twenty. 

Maybe I'm making more out of it than it's worth, doctor, but when my 
daughter started to screw it made me feel old. That's why I set out to prove 
that anything she could do I could do better. 

On the night when it all began Rita went out on a date with a boy named 
Joel. Joel was fifteen-years-old and a pretty good looking young boy. He was 
still very boyish and had a real baby face. But his body was strong and 
rippled with muscles. During the previous summer I'd seen Joel on the beach 
with just a brief little pair of swim trunks on. His young cock had been 
packed tightly into those trunks and my own body had had fantasies about 
what it would be like to be taken physically by a muscular youth like Joel. 

Well, Joel came and picked up Rita at seven o'clock that evening. By ten 
o'clock I was tired and was sitting in the bedroom of the house. My husband 
had already gone to bed and was asleep. He'd had a tough day at the office 
and he didn't want to screw that night. 

But as I took off my clothes and stood nude in that dark bedroom, I heard a 
noise. I went to the window. There was definitely a low moaning coming from 
outside the house somewhere. 

I thought of waking my husband and sending him down to investigate. But I 
decided I wouldn't disturb him. Our neighborhood was a very safe one and I 
figured that whatever it was I could probably handle it myself. 

I went downstairs and was going to go right out the back door to 
investigate. But I decided against that, too. If I had gone out the back 
door whatever or whoever was moaning out there would see me coming before I 
saw it. 

"Be smart," I told myself. "Go out the front door and catch what's going on 
before you're noticed." 

So out the front door I went. I circled the house and soon heard the 
moaning. I walked very quietly and I stayed in the shadows. 

Then I saw what had attracted me. Right there on the grass behind our house 
I saw two naked bodies. 

"My God! It's a couple of people fucking!" I thought to myself. I looked 
carefully to see as much as I could. I tried to figure out exactly what 
position the bodies were in. As my eyes grew accustomed to the darkness I 
was able to see more and more. 

"They're not fucking," I then realized. "They're only getting ready to 
fuck." 

I perhaps should have taken a run at them and scared both of those strangers 
away. But I didn't. I was too fascinated with what I was seeing. 

I had thought that it was the girl who was lying back on the ground. But it 
wasn't. As I looked at them I realized that the male was naked and lying 
with his back down on the wet grass. His penis was erect and pointing up 
toward the stars. And the girl was squatting down between the knees of his 
spread apart legs. As she leaned forward she had cupped her hands around his 
nuts and was moving her wet lips slowly up and down upon the long shaft at 
his crotch. 

I stared at them. It seemed so beautiful for that pretty young female body 
to be bent over her male admirer servicing his penis between her lips. I 
could only see the contours of her body. Her breasts were full and I could 
just barely see the uplifted nipples on her bare young breasts. The boy's 
penis appeared to be good sized, although I couldn't see it that well since 
she was hiding it with the hair that hung down from her head. 

"Simply beautiful," I thought to myself. And although it was making my own 
pussy tingle I decided that I wouldn't distract the lovers. I'd just stay 
there and watch that most beautiful of nature's acts. 

But then it happened. I heard their voices. 

"Oh, Rita, suck me harder!" I heard the boy's voice moan. It had been he who 
had been moaning before, his moans coming from the wonderful feeling he had 
from those warm lips on his long stiff rod. 

But Rita? My god! I suddenly realized that that was my very own daughter 
back there. 

"If I suck any harder, Joel," I heard her say, "you'll come in my mouth." 

"What's wrong with that?" he moaned again. "Won't you do that for me?" 

"I want the sperm in my vagina," she said back. "Nowhere else. Just the 
vagina." 

Suddenly it wasn't very beautiful any more. That was my own innocent little 
girl doing a filthy, lewd and perverted thing to that boy. And worse, that 
boy wanted to have his ejaculation in her mouth, totally ignoring the 
vagina, the woman's source of all pleasure. 

I watched them still but now I was mad. I disliked the idea that my own 
innocent little daughter was doing a screw for some young kid. I was jealous 
perhaps of her having a virile young lover like Joel, with that muscular 
chest and those big fat balls which had been tucked into his bathing suit 
like a couple of coconuts. 

He sat up and she sat down on the ground next to him. He leaned to his side 
and I watched in the moonlight as he pushed his face to one and then the 
other of her two bare tits. I imagined how good it must have felt for her to 
have a virile fifteen-year-old pushing his lips to her bare turned-on 
nipples. My pussy shuddered at the thought of such a delicious feeling. And 
damn it, I knew I was getting mad because my daughter had something that I 
wanted for myself. 

I could see them very clearly now. As the boy licked and nipped at my 
daughter's boobs she was continuing to play with his penis with both her 
hands. And in turn, he had one arm around her while the other hand was down 
between her legs. His fingers were playing in that little hairy garden 
between her legs. My clitoris smarted just from thinking how my daughter's 
clitoris must have felt 

"Oh, Joel," I heard her say to her male admirer. "That's my clit." 

"Of course it is," he said to her in return. "I wouldn't fuck you without 
saying hello to your clit first." 

"Oh, Joel. It feels so good." 

"You just wait till my long stinger gets in there," he said. "Then you'll 
really know what feels good!" 

"Oh, Joel! It's fantastic!" she yelped. I figured that he must have been not 
only playing with her clit, but also was moving a finger back and forth in 
her vagina. I was right. 

"Oh, Joel," she moaned next. "Which finger is that?" 

"The thumb," he moaned. "It's the thumb that's in there." 

"Oh, shit!" she yelped. "It feels so frigging good!" 

"I have to show you one more thing," he then said to her after a slight 
pause. "What?" she gasped. 

"Have you ever had your clit sucked on?" he asked. 

"Oh, Joel! No! Please! Can you?" 

I watched my daughter quickly recline with her ass on the cool moist ground 
and her legs spread wide apart. The boy lay down there between her legs, 
pushing his face into that delicate young muff of hers. Then I heard my 
daughter start to utter long low gasps which sounded almost as if the 
sucking she was getting was already giving her orgasms. 

"Joel! Shit! Joel! Balls!" she moaned. "Oh, my cunt! My clit! My cunt!" 

I could hardly stand to watch them much more. The boy was enjoying her body 
so much and visa versa. I could hear his lips sucking on that little button 
of hers. I was horny enough to go sit on one of the posts of the fence that 
surrounded our house. But I didn't Despite the burning feeling in my clit I 
stayed and watched. 

As she held her legs apart the boy climbed up on top of her. In the 
moonlight I could see that long utensil at his crotch. I stared at it as he 
pushed it into her. Then I stood my ground and watched further as the penis 
slipped way into her and as Joel started to move his loins back and forth 
into Rita's crotch. 

She moved up her legs and wrapped them around the boy's waist. 

"Oh, Joel," I heard her moan. "You're so long. So gloriously long and hard!" 

He pumped back and forth and only grunted in reply to her question. Her ass 
wriggled underneath him and she thrust her pussy up and back and he slammed 
that cock of his in and out of her. 

"Oh, cunt!" she yelped again as his penis pushed her into that region known 
as orgasmic frenzy. "Cock! Shit! Cunt! Balls!" 

Joel stroked hard for several long minutes, holding his erection inside my 
daughter much longer than my husband ever bothers to hold his anymore. The 
time was when my husband could hold it in my vagina for half an hour. Now he 
just pumps and comes in a few minutes. 

So on still another count I was jealous of my daughter. The man who fucked 
her was young and potent. He held his cock hard longer than my man could. 

I watched until both of them were wriggling frantically and uttering 
piercing squeals of pleasure. They were ending their open air fun with two 
big simultaneous orgasms, his dick squirting its juice out while my 
daughter's pussy was ripped apart with orgasm. Then they lay together for a 
few seconds before he pulled it out of her. 

"Fabulous," she muttered to him. "Absolutely tremendous." 

He grunted his thanks. That's when I tiptoed away. 

I went back up to the bedroom and was just about to crawl into bed to try to 
forget that I'd seen. I'm a normal woman, doctor. Watching those people 
fucking had made me hornier than a rhinoceros. I hated to go to bed having 
to stifle myself but that's exactly what I had to do. Yet, I couldn't resist 
taking a peek out the window to see if I could catch one final glimpse of my 
daughter and Joel. 

I looked out. That lucky daughter of mine! Joel was eating her out now. His 
face was pressed firmly into her wide open pussy and I could almost feel his 
tongue lapping deep down into her. 

"That did it," I cursed to myself. "Tomorrow Joel gets a different woman ... 
an older more mature one." 

How did I do it, doctor? How did I seduce Joel? It was easy. Most boys of 
fifteen think of themselves as real potent little cocksmen. They'll fuck 
just about anything that comes their way. They have no particular loyalty to 
any woman in particular. That's why Joel fell prey to me so easily. 

Actually, doctor, I took advantage of a little physical characteristic of 
mine in order to seduce Joel. But it was so much fun that I think any woman 
who can pull this off should try it with her daughter's lover. 

I keep my body in very good shape, doctor, and I've often been told that I 
look enough like my daughter to be her sister. I guess that's because I look 
so youthful. Well, I've often passed for a young girl, so I thought I'd 
really give it a try. 

One day after school I got my daughter out of the house by giving her a 
little present. I gave her twenty dollars and told her that she should drive 
over to the department store in the neighboring town and buy herself a few 
new bikini panties. I knew she liked them because she always wore them. Why? 
Because it made her look sexy when she wore nothing but those bikini 
panties. But the important thing was that she would be out of the house for 
two hours or more. And that was all the time I needed. 

I telephoned Joel's house. Not only did I look like my daughter but I could 
also sound like her on the telephone. That was all the extra help I needed. 

"Joel?" I said over the telephone. "This is Rita." 

"Hi, sugar!" he said, swallowing the bait nicely. 

"That sure was nice what, you did to me last night in the backyard," I cooed 
to him softly. 

"Yeah," he grunted. And he uttered a stupid laugh as he thought about it. 

"Do you know how good it was for me?" I asked. 

"How good?" he asked. 

"So good that I want to do it again," I said. "Right now." 

"Now?" he said. "It's daylight. Where could we go to-" 

"Right over here," I said. "Right in my bedroom." 

"What about your parents?" he asked. 

"Dad's at work," I said. "And Mom ... mom is having an affair with a big six 
foot five inch black man over in Camden. She won't be back for another two 
hours." 

"Well...." he said slowly, trying to think whether or not it would be wise 
to take up my offer. 

"Think of my nice legs," I cooed to him. "Think of the calves and the knees. 
Then slowly think about the thighs. Work upward from there. Think about the 
little soft patch of skin right at the top of the legs." 

"Rita!" he snapped. "This isn't fair." 

"Now just move an inch or two above all that soft skin. Think about the 
hairy little bush between my legs. Now think what it feels like to have your 
penis immersed in that warm moist slot." 

"Oh, Rita!" he gasped. 

"Is your prick hard?" I asked. 

"Hard as a concrete dildo," he said. 

"Are you coming over?" I cooed. "Please, Joel, my pussy needs you so badly. 
And we can do it in a nice cozy warm bed in the house." 

"Give me fifteen minutes," he said. "I'll be right over." 

"I'm getting undressed right now," I said passionately. I could feel my own 
pussy tingling from the build-up I gave him. "I'll be upstairs nude in my 
bed. You just come in the house without knocking and come right up to my 
bedroom. My pussy will be waiting for you." 

I could hear him panting on the other end of the phone. Then he hung up. 

I tossed off my blouse and my skirt as I casually wandered up the stairs to 
my daughter's bedroom. In front of her wall mirror I pulled off my bra and 
stood there in only my panties. 

I admired how nice and youthful my body still was. My breasts, I discovered 
as I shook them, still had a nice bounce to them as I moved nude across the 
room. Then I pulled down my panties. I ran my hands through my pussy hair 
and I admired my fluffy little box, the box that had satisfied my husband 
for so many years but which was now in direct competition with my very own 
daughter. 

I tossed the panties to the side of the room and I went to my daughter's 
dresser. I splashed on some of her perfume so that I'd even smell like her. 
I dabbed some behind my ears and some between my big boobs. Then, in case 
the boy wanted to muff-dive, I dabbed some of it between my inner thighs, 
just below the navel and some right into my soft little bush triangle. Joel 
would never know what hit him until his pants were down and off. 

It only took him ten minutes to get over to my house. That's how anxious he 
was to get that hard prick of his back into a woman's slot. 

I heard him open the door downstairs and call out to me. 

"Rita?" he yelled, still under the misconception about who he was coming 
over to fuck. 

"Up here," I called back. "In my bed. Just as Hold you." 

I knew that if he got a good look at my face he'd recognize me for Rita's 
mother. But that was a problem which was easily solved. I lay nude on Rita's 
bed, lying face down and with my face looking the other way. 

He came up the stairs and then came into Rita's room. He saw my naked boy on 
that bed. My ass was curvy and bare for him to look at. He liked it. 

"Wow, Rita!" he said as he slowly came into the room "I don't remember you 
having such a nice ass." 

"What do you remember?" I asked him, still trying to sound like my daughter. 

"The pussy," he said with a horny voice. "I remember how good the pussy felt 
and how good the pussy tasted." 

"Well then," I said, "you better take off your clothes." 

"Can't I give you a kiss first?" 

"You have to take off your clothes first," I insisted to the boy. 

"Why won't you turn over and look at me?" he asked, growing just a trifle 
suspicious. 

"If you came here to ask a lot of silly questions," I said, "you can leave 
again. I can call up someone else to come over and screw me." 

"I'm undressing, I'm undressing," he said quickly. "Don't get impatient!" 

I listened as I heard him fool with his clothes. I heard the zipper of his 
fly go down and I heard his pants drop with the belt buckle hitting the 
floor. My pussy was juicing with desire. My whole plan had gone so well so 
far. I knew it couldn't fail now. I knew within minutes I'd have Rita's 
little backyard bailer firmly stuffed into my vagina. 

A minute or so later I felt him climb onto the bed, knee first. Then I felt 
him place his hands on my ass. 

"I don't believe it, Rita," he said. "I always thought your ass was flatter. 
But no. It's a damn fine ass." 

"Kiss it, Joel," I said, "Will you kiss it if it's so nice?" 

He pressed his lips down there and kissed both cheeks of my ass. I opened my 
legs as he fooled around with my ass. I wanted him to catch a whiff of my 
pussy from underneath. That way he'd catch my fine womanly scent mixed with 
Rita's perfume. 

As my legs spread apart his mouth moved down more toward my anus. His lips 
were going toward my vagina as he sniffed down there at my scent. Slowly I 
began to roll over so that he could get at my pussy. Without letting him 
even look up, his tongue was trying to push into my vagina. 

I rolled over completely and lay on my back with my legs wide apart. He was 
crouched between my legs now and his face was just about to press into my 
vagina. He started to look up at me. But I caught his head with my hands and 
I pushed his face gently back down to my pussy. 

He took the message. He pushed his face right into my wet hairy slot and 
with one beautiful thrust, his tongue slipped between the lips of my vagina. 

The tip of his tongue zeroed right in on the head of my tender little 
clitoris. The boy, a good boy at cunnilingus for a youth of fifteen, knew 
how to dart a tongue back and forth in the way that all women love. Back and 
forth his tongue went. He cupped his hands under my ass and held me as he 
licked. I let my own hands drop to my sides and I wriggled my hips and 
vaginal area back and forth as his tongue worked it over. 

Then suddenly he looked up. I was looking down at his hard cock as he looked 
up. He looked me right in the eye and recognized me. His prick dropped from 
a full erection to a limp little noodle. The boy was terrified! 

"Mrs. H-! " he howled. "I ... What ... I-?" 

"Don't be alarmed," I said to him in a soft voice. "No one's going to hurt 
you." 

"But I thought you were-" 

"Rita?" I asked. He nodded and I smiled. "Yes," I said, "I guess I've played 
a little trick on you. But it was for the benefit of both of us." 

"Benefit? How?" 

"Lucky boy," I said. "You're going to get to make a comparison." 

"A comparison?" he asked. 

"You just get that cock of yours hard again and you'll be allowed to see 
who's better in the sack. Mother or daughter." 

"But Mrs. H-, " he said. "I-" 

"If you don't want to co-operate, Joel," I said, "I'll just call up your 
Daddy and tell him that you inseminated my daughter. Would you like me to do 
that?" 

He shook his head. He looked hard at me. "Was that you who called me?" he 
asked. 

"Yes it was," I said. "Now you concentrate on getting your prick stiff 
again. Your tongue was just beginning to make my pussy feel good." 

The boy was white in the face, but as he looked up and down my body I could 
see his penis springing back to life. 

"That's right," I said. "You just concentrate on what you see. I think we 
can be very intimate friends." 

Joel began to smile. like any boy he knew when he was called upon to 
perform. He pushed his face back down into my wet bush and he started to 
lick again. 

I could feel the boy's tongue reaching deeply between my pussy lips again. I 
was already juicing enough down there with enough liquid to float a 
battleship. But the more he licked the wetter I got. It was so exciting to 
be had by a fifteen-year-old boy. It was the most exciting sex I'd had in 
years. 

"Push deep," I told him. "Hit me hard with that tongue. Get it way back in 
there!" 

He pushed as far as he could as I continued to wriggle beneath his hard 
pressing mouth. I kept moaning just as he had moaned the night before when 
my daughter was tongue-teasing his rod. I panted and he kept thrusting that 
tongue of his into me. But it just wasn't reaching way back to where I 
wanted to feel it. 

"It's not going far enough," I moaned. "You'll have to put something longer 
back there!" 

"A rod?" he asked with a grin. He had gathered his courage nicely now. His 
cock was stiff as an icicle but much warmer. I reached down and held his 
penis between my fingers before he had completely moved up and mounted me. 

"Who has nicer jugs?" I asked him proudly as I cupped my hands beneath my 
two big bare breasts. "Rita or her mother." 

"I ... uh, don't tell Rita," he stammered. "But you do." 

"If they're so nice," I continued, "you should give them some big kisses." 

He pushed his face back up to my tits. He wrapped my right boob with both of 
his hands and he suckled it into his mouth as a baby would. His tongue was 
all over that breast and he even titillated the nipple by giving it a very 
sensual but gentle gnawing motion with his teeth. 

I was ecstatic. That youngster was the best fucker I'd ever had so far. And 
his cock wasn't even in yet. I moaned as I lay back flat on the bed, pulling 
my breasts away from him. He looked at me questioningly. 

"It's time," I said. "Time to hump!" 

As I lay out flat, Rita's young boyfriend climbed onto my body just as he'd 
climbed onto Rita's a few hours earlier that previous night. 

I held my legs wide apart to afford him a good open target. He scored a 
direct hit with his first shot, slipping his long hard shaft directly 
through the lips of my pussy with his first hard forward thrust. 

The penis pushed deep into me and he started to push it back and forth. I 
could feel the rod stroking in and out and I began to orgasm immediately, 
squealing as he pumped forward, just as Rita had. There was no doubt about 
one thing: my daughter was a clever girl when it came to finding men with 
big cocks.... 

...Mrs. H.'s story neared conclusion at that point. I asked her how her 
orgasms were during sex with the boy, in view of the fact that he was a new 
young partner. 

"Well," doctor," she said. "I had always thought that a penis is a penis, no 
matter whose it is. But that's just not true." 

"Why do you say that?" 

"Joel was fabulously talented at holding his erection. I don't know whether 
it's something that all the youngsters are being taught today or whether 
it's just that these youngsters intuitively know how to please a woman. But 
every time he built me up and had me looking for his climax he managed to 
hold onto it. The result was that he built me up three times and gave me 
three fabulous final orgasms before he finally ejaculated himself." 

"So the sex act was successful?" I asked. 

"Stunningly so," Mrs. H. said. "And do you know what really made it great 
for me? After it was over I asked Joel about his orgasm. I asked him if he'd 
had a good come, 'My best ever,' he said in answer to my question." 

"You must have been pleased," I said. 

"I sure was," Mrs. H. said. "I even went so far as to ask whether it was 
better than the, come he'd had with my daughter that previous night. He said 
yes. He specifically said that it was better because it was more exciting. 
And do you know why he thought it was more exciting, doctor? Because it was 
with an older woman!" Mrs. H. paused and continued. "So I guess the old 
wines are the most fragrant after all, huh, doctor?" 

I told Mrs. H, that I wished to talk to her further about her seductions of 
her daughter's boyfriends. Time wouldn't permit it at that particular 
session, however, so Mrs. H. agreed to see Miss Johnson and schedule a 
second appointment. At that point we broke until our next meeting. I had no 
idea how disturbed Mrs. H. would be when she returned for her next visit. 

II 

I reflected upon Mrs. H.'s story before she returned for her second and 
final visit to my offices. I thought it was already quite clear that her 
desire to seduce young boys who were boyfriends of her daughter stemmed from 
two causes. First, she was afraid that age was limiting her desirability as 
a woman. And secondly, she had a need to compete with her daughter since 
essentially Mrs. H. was a jealous person. like a child, Mrs. H. had to have 
something that she wanted which wasn't hers. 

Mrs. H.'s attitude at our first meeting was confident and smug. She knew 
what she was doing and she was pleased with the ease with which she'd gotten 
away with it. 

On her second trip to my office, to meet art appointment which Miss Johnson 
had scheduled eight days after the first, Mrs. H.'s entire attitude had 
changed. This time she was very nearly a crushed woman. 

As she lay back on the sofa she began to break down emotionally. I could see 
tears welling in her eyes. I handed her a handkerchief and I sought to 
comfort her. 

"Whenever you'd like to tell me," I said, "Id be happy to hear about your 
problem." 

"I just can't believe what's happened," she said. "And it just happened last 
night. It's devastating." 

"Do you feel like talking about it?" I asked the distraught woman. 

She nodded. She dabbed at her wet eyes with that handkerchief and she nodded 
again. "I'll tell you about the whole thing," she said. "But I just can't 
believe it. I never thought anything as deranged and perverted as this could 
happen." 

"Whenever you're ready," I said, "I'll be glad to hear about it. But I can't 
help you unless you tell me." 

Mrs. H. sobbed for a few moments and then told me an odd tale of child 
seduction and family intrigue.... 

...I don't know whether I've ever told you about Tommy, doctor. He's one of 
the five boys I've seduced out of my daughter's stable of former boyfriends. 
Tommy is a handsome boy with dark hair, dark eyes and a very fat penis. He's 
a very thick boy. He's not fat or anything, he's just very solid. It was 
about a year ago that I first fucked him. 

Tommy has always been my favorite of the five boys I've seduced. That's why 
it upsets me so much that Tommy was in on a very cruel deception of which I 
was the victim. 

I thought everything was all over between Tommy and me. He had gone on and 
was screwing an eighteen-year-old cheerleader from the high school. From the 
rumors I heard, he was a very popular boy because he was one of the best 
fourteen-year-old muff-divers in town. That burned me a little because I'm 
the one who taught him how to do it. He'd never put his tongue near a 
woman's pussy until I taught him how good it could be. 

Anyway, doctor, Tommy called me up last night just after the family had had 
their dinner. He asked me if he could come over to fuck. 

"Tommy!" I replied to him over the phone, trying to speak in a low voice 
that couldn't be heard by Rita or my husband. "You know I'd love to fuck 
you. But Rita and my husband are home." 

"Never mind them," little Tommy said. "Just sneak down to the basement in a 
half an hour. I'll be down there through the back entrance. You can just sit 
on my penis for a few minutes then you can go back upstairs." 

I had to ponder it, just the same way that Joel had had to ponder my 
telephone offer. 

"For old time's sake?" he asked over the telephone. And when I heard the 
anxiety of that young boyish voice of his I couldn't possibly say no. I told 
him to be down in the basement in thirty minutes. I said we could do it on 
the old cot down there. 

Sure enough. Tommy turned up in the basement a half an hour later. I quickly 
went down there while my husband was watching the Monday night football game 
and while Rita was upstairs on the telephone. I went down the cellar stairs 
and there was Tommy sitting on the edge of the cot, wearing nothing but his 
underpants. 

I looked at the boy's crotch and I saw his great big whang bulging beneath 
the crotch area of his underwear. I had always remembered that young Tommy 
had that immensely thick penis, the kind that makes a woman think she's 
sitting on a salami. 

"Oh, Tommy," I said as I went over and kissed the youngster on the lips. "I 
thought it was all over between us." 

"It was," said the boy. "But I was sitting all alone in my room at home. I 
was thinking about how good a pussy would feel on my cock. And I knew that 
the pussies of the young girls in my class at high school just wouldn't do. 
Those pussies are too tight. They haven't been opened up enough yet. So I 
knew I needed a woman instead of a girl. I wanted an older more mature 
woman. So I called you." 

"Oh, Tommy," I said as I started to loosen my blouse, working off the 
buttons at the front of the blouse. "You say the sweetest things, Tommy." 

"But I mean them," he said to me as I opened my blouse. My bosom were bare 
beneath my blouse and the boy eyed them. I'd slipped my bra off right after 
he'd called me. I wanted to be ready to get undressed, fucked and then 
dressed again in a big hurry. 

"I know you do," I said in response, "and that's why I'm going to give you 
the best fuck you've had in a long time." 

I undid the snap of my skirt and pulled it off me. I had another little 
surprise for him. I wasn't wearing any panties under that skirt of mine. 
That shocked him. 

"Hot shit!" the boy said. "I thought it was only the young kids who don't 
wear under things any more." 

"If a woman of thirty-seven wants to think on the young side," I said, "she 
won't wear any panties under her clothes either." 

"You sure are a swinger, Mrs. H-, " he said. "Let's screw!" 

"It'll have to be a quickie," I warned. "I don't want the people upstairs 
getting suspicious." 

"No, no," he said, "let's have one of the long slow ones, the kind where you 
make me come two or three times. Okay?" 

"A quickie," I insisted. "If there's one thing that I don't want it's my 
husband wandering down here to see what's up. He'd quickly discover that 
what's up is that fat rod of yours!" 

We didn't talk much more about it. Tommy stood and pulled down those 
underpants of his, showing me his big hairy genital mass and letting that 
fat organ of his directly pop up and out of those confining pants of his. 

A youngster o fourteen always looks so enthused and happy when you go for 
his prick. It's always as if something magical and exciting is happening to 
him. All I did was sit down on that bed with him and push my lips to his 
penis. When I took it in my mouth he went wild. 

He leaned forward and we assumed the inverted position side by side on that 
bed. I held his ass with my hands and he forced his head down to where my 
big hairy bush was. He pushed his face into my bush and I felt his tongue 
pierce my pussy lips. 

"Oh, Tommy, yes!" I moaned to him. "A sixty-nine! How perfect!" 

He lapped at my cunt with long slow strokes of his tongue, working my pussy 
into a wetter and wetter state and teasing my clit to the point where it was 
almost standing up as long and hard as his penis. 

I flicked my tongue across his nozzle and lapped out of his spout the few 
little droplets of come that had gathered there. I held that penis firmly in 
my hand. I tried to concentrate on licking it, but that fourteen-year-old 
boy's head was pushed so firmly into my snatch that it was extremely 
difficult to concentrate. I kept licking and so did he. Eventually my pussy 
felt like it was about to explode and his penis was so big that I was afraid 
he was going to flood my mouth if I didn't get that rod down into my vagina 
in a hurry. 

I pushed his face away from my pussy and I released his cock from my mouth. 
He struggled to get his face back to my pussy and it took great willpower 
not to let him push it back there. After all, what woman wouldn't want to 
spend an hour getting her pussy licked? 

"Why all the foreplay tonight?" I asked him. "How come you still want to 
lick? It used to be that you'd just run your lips across my vagina once and 
you'd be ready to bang your fat rod in." 

"I kind of wanted a long slow one tonight," he said. I was beginning to get 
suspicious. Why did he want to keep me down in the basement on that cot for 
so long? What was he up to? What was happening upstairs?" 

"Why?" I asked, my pussy oozing with desire as I tried to ask rational 
questions. 

"That's just how I felt," he pleaded. 

"I'll tell you how to feel," I said to him. "You feel as if your rod is 
going to cream if I lick it for ten more seconds." 

"That would be fine," he said. "Then I could come in your mouth, we could 
relax and then do it again. The second time I could come in your pussy." 

"No dice, Tommy," I said. "I don't know why you're trying to stall me down 
here, but it won't work. I want my cock and I want it now." 

We had to wrestle around a little bit, but I can handle a boy of fourteen a 
lot easier than I could handle a full grown man. Their penises are often 
just as big, but their muscles are not. I had him turned over on his back 
and I reached down to his penis. 

I grabbed it forcefully and wrapped my fingers firmly around the hard shaft. 
"You either co-operate or I'll snap your prick in two," I told him. And he 
knew better than to argue. 

I held that penis in my hands as I mounted him from the top, throwing my leg 
over him and straddling his hips. I held my pussy right above his penis as I 
held the penis firmly in my hand. Then I released the penis. 

I looked at that dark-haired handsome young boy right in the eye as I 
started to lower myself down onto his rod. s 

"Coming down, Tommy," I said. "Ready or not here you come." 

He pursed his lips as my pussy came down. He felt his penis beginning to be 
enveloped by the firm pussy lips which were above him. Down came the pussy. 
It enveloped that hard penis quickly and I brought myself all the way down. 

"I think it would be a very nice idea," I said to him, "if you held onto my 
breasts as I pump." 

Up and down I rode on that fat prick of his. I slammed my pussy down and up 
and then slammed it downward again, forcing that little hard hose of his to 
push way back up into me. His young hands were all over my tits as I humped 
up and down. He made me orgasm hard almost immediately. That was lucky, 
because he wasn't able to hold his sperm back for very long. 

I felt his rod getting harder and harder within me. Then it started to 
spasm. Then it released a torrent of pent-up come. 

His hose sprayed sperms straight upwards from his prick. As his hands 
fondled my tits and as my nipples became hard against his palms, I felt 
those warm seeds spurting up into my vagina. I pounded downward, milking 
that penis of his for every drop of come that it was worth. I had to bite my 
tongue to keep from squealing out in the joy that I felt. 

I panted for my breath and lay right next to him on that cot after our screw 
was over. I could feel that warm satisfied feeling down in my pussy. But I 
was also very aware that my husband and my daughter were right upstairs. I 
had to get dressed and get back up there before they became inquisitive 
about what I was doing in the basement. 

I reached for my clothes. "I've got to get back upstairs," I said to him. I 
kissed the boy on the lips and I softly patted his balls. 

"No!" he said. "Don't go back up there. I'll lick your anus if you stay down 
here with me." 

Now I knew something was going on up there that I should know about. I stood 
up and I quickly began to put my skirt and my blouse back on. 

"Young fellow," I said to Tommy as he lay there on the cot with crud 
encrusting his balls, "I begin to suspect that you're in on something I 
don't know about." 

"Not at all," he said. "I just, came over to fuck." 

"Well," I said as I pulled my skirt up over my bare dripping pussy, "I'm 
going upstairs. I hope I don't find anything there that implicates you in a 
plot." 

"Shit," he said. "If you're going upstairs I'm getting out of here." 

I went to the stairs and darted up them. The football game was still on the 
television set but my husband wasn't watching it any more. I picked up the 
telephone and Rita wasn't talking on it any more. I listened carefully. I 
could hear something going on in the upstairs bedrooms. So I darted up the 
stairs, moving up the carpeted stairs on my bare feet so that I'd arrive by 
surprise upon anything illicit that was going on. 

I looked into Rita's bedroom. Nothing. Then I went to my own bedroom and 
threw open the door. There it was. Right on my bed. My husband's nude body 
was vigorously humping up and down on top of Rita. He was pounding his prick 
in and out of his very own daughter as she squeezed her father tightly by 
wrapping her long bare legs around his midsection. With the help of Tommy, 
my husband and my daughter had put a big one over on me. I was so pissed 
that I picked up the clock radio and threw it at them. It hit my husband 
across the bobbing bare buttocks and bounced onto the floor where it 
shattered.... 

...."Shocking," I said to Mrs. H. "And that's what you're so upset about 
today." 

"Wouldn't you be," she asked, "if some little boy helped in a ruse that 
allowed your wife to go to bed with your son?" 

"I understand, Mrs. H., " I said. "I can see how and why you're so upset." 

I sympathized with Mrs. H., but as a professional person I had to make an 
analysis as I saw fit to. I informed Mrs. H. that her situation was a pure 
example of someone bringing trouble upon herself. 

I discussed how I felt that Mrs. H. had no ethical business interfering in 
the sexual affairs of her daughter, particularly in trying to seduce her 
daughter's boyfriends. Such seductions were obviously immature on Mrs. H.'s 
part. Instead of accepting her own role as a mother and accepting the fact 
of her age (as mentioned in the beginning of this interview section), Mrs. 
H. tried to deny her age by competing with her daughter for lovers. Such 
competition was doomed to disaster, as Mrs. H. painfully discovered. 

Mr. H. was angered that his wife was cheating on him. Rita was infuriated 
about her mother's meddling in her own business. And young Tommy had felt 
that he was used as a sex object by Mrs. H. Hence, all conspired to "teach 
Janette H. a lesson" on this particular evening which Mrs. H. described. 

An unfortunate outgrowth of the situation, however, is that Rita and her 
father seemed to enjoy the physical love which they had shared on that 
particular evening. Rita, from the follow up reports I've received, appears 
to be continuing an affair with her father, leaving Mrs. H. to fend for 
herself as far as sex is concerned. 

Mrs. H.'s sexual problems thus were multi-pled by her cravings to have sex 
with the young teenage boys which her daughter was having sex with. Mrs. H. 
has learned her lesson painfully. I have turned her over to another 
psycho-sexual therapist who is doing his best to help Mrs. H. cope with her 
situation and decide whether she wishes to attempt to continue with her 
present marriage. 

I do not like to moralize over my patients' problems or situations. However, 
I think Mrs. H.'s situation might teach us all a lesson about discretion. 
Many moral and upstanding American women are now having sex with young 
teenage boys. It is a trend which will probably run its course and there is 
little that we can do about it. 

However, the women of America had best take a lesson from this case history. 
There are some boys which will definitely be off limits. These are the boys 
already taken by other women or the boys brought into the house by one's own 
daughter. Family deception never aided any affair of the flesh. 

Also, I might add a word about sexual deception in general. Mrs. .H.'s 
plight was particularly painful since she had been caught in a deception 
with she had begun. Finding out was all the more painful for her daughter 
and husband. And the revenge taken upon Mrs. H. threatens to sabotage her 
entire marriage. 

My word of advice to American women would be this: if you must join this 
perverse fad of seducing young boys, it must never be forced upon the boy 
and it must never be concealed in deception. Forced sex or deceptive sex 
often leads only to disaster. 

 CASE HISTORY FIVE 

My interview with Mrs. Ella S. afforded me a particularly unique experience. 

Mrs. S., thirty-four years of age, had divorced her husband three years 
before entering my clinic to discuss her affair with a young boy named 
Bruce. Sex with her husband had been a dismal failure. But sex with Bruce, a 
lad of fourteen, was exciting and challenging to Mrs. S. And, unlike almost 
all other women whom I interviewed, Mrs. S. lived with her boy-lover and he 
acted as her husband. 

But that's only half of the unique interview Mrs. S. was able to give me. 
Since she lived with her young boyfriend, the two of them were able to meet 
openly and travel together as a couple. Little suspicion was ever raised 
since Bruce easily could pass for Mrs. S.'s son. 

Thus, on Mrs. S.'s second visit to my office, she was able to bring young 
Bruce with her. Bruce, therefore, was able to give me and the students of 
these case histories, his own direct thoughts on what it's like to be 
seduced by an older woman while in one's early teens. So the second part of 
this case history will be primarily the testimony of young Bruce. But 
initially, we're concerned with Mrs. S.'s own words on her first visit to my 
office. 

Mrs. S. explained to me on her first visit to my office that Bruce, at the 
age of sixteen, had moved into her home and taken the place of her husband. 

"That strikes me as a rather odd situation," I said to Mrs. S. "Could you 
tell me how this situation happened to come about?" 

"I guess you can say that it came about by luck," she said. "I needed 
someone to screw me after my divorce went through. I was lucky enough that a 
young boy happened to come along." 

"What about his parents?" I asked. "Who are they and where are they?" 

Mrs. S. immediately answered that question and moved on to more specific 
matters, particularly how she and Bruce first came to make love.... 

...Doctor, Bruce's father is an old drunk. The only person in the whole town 
who drinks more than he does is his wife. He's plastered all the time and 
she's plastered about a hundred and fifty per cent of the time. 

Okay, I'm exaggerating a bit. But Bruce was very unhappy living at home with 
his parents. All the parents wanted to do was have drunken orgies with the 
neighborhood swap club. Bruce was always in the way. So about six months ago 
I allowed Bruce to start coming over to my house to do his homework. 

I was glad to have him there. I liked having a child around the house. I had 
always wanted to have children but that old fart of a husband of mine went 
and had a vasectomy without telling me. So every month when it came time for 
us to screw a lot so that I could get pregnant, he'd hump me constantly. Yet 
he never succeeded in knocking me up. It wasn't until after the divorce that 
I found out what he'd done. 

Well, Bruce would come over and sit at the dining room table and do his 
homework. I'd sit in the living room doing something or just sit there and 
think. My mind would always wander and I'd always be conscious at what a 
nice young fellow little Bruce was. It was such a shame that his parents 
didn't seem to want him. 

After a while Bruce didn't even want to go home at night. I telephoned his 
parents and they told me that Bruce could stay away for good if he wanted 
to. The worst part of it was that he really did want to. It wasn't that he 
just wanted to be away for a few days or a few nights. He hated his parents 
and they disliked him. 

Well, I tried to help Bruce out. I felt sorry for a boy of fourteen who 
nobody wanted. So I made a little room for him at my house. He began staying 
there at nights. And although I admit that was beginning to be sexually 
interested in the boy, I never did or said anything ... for a while. 

Bruce moved in about three months ago and stayed. A week later his parents 
sent all his belongings to him at my house along with a note telling him not 
to come back. It was that same night that Bruce and I first screwed. 

As he did his homework I was reading an article in the newspaper about 
couples of different ages. I read about a movie star, a man of fifty-six, 
who married a girl of twenty. He was thirty-six years older than she. 

"Shit," I thought to myself, "I'll bet she feels old age creeping up on her 
every night." 

And then I read about a French singer of forty-three, a woman, who had 
married a youth of twenty-five. Eighteen years difference there. 

Then I looked across the room at Bruce. I deducted his age from mine and 
came out with eighteen, a nice sounding number. Then I looked down and read 
about a famous judge who is sixty-seven and had a wife of twenty-five. 

"Shit!" I thought to myself. "Forty-two years. I guess the way these people 
stay on the young side is by screwing people so much younger." 

And then I looked over at Bruce again. Eighteen years wasn't such a big 
difference, not in light of what everyone else seemed to be doing. 

"Bruce," I said to the boy quietly as he did his lessons for school the next 
day. "I'd like to have a serious little chat with you before you go to sleep 
tonight." 

Bruce nodded. And a few hours later we had our chat ... and a little more, 
too. 

Bruce came to me for the talk before getting undressed for bed. But I told 
him that I wanted him to put his pajamas on first. This, I explained, would 
be a beddy-bye time chat. He obeyed me. But while he was off putting his 
pajamas on I slipped into a nightgown of my own. I chose the sexiest one I 
could find. It was a light blue silk ruffled night gown. The silk was so 
sheer that my pretty big nipples were visible through it, as were all of 
those little hairs which formed that elegant triangle of fluff down between 
my legs. 

"I'm ready," I heard Bruce call to me from his room. 

"Are you ready for bed?" I called back to him from my bedroom. I had just 
made down my bed, the big twin bed which my husband and I used to screw in. 

"Yes, I am," he called back. 

"Well, then," I said in a sexy-oriented voice, "you just come on into my 
bedroom. We're going to have our little chat in here." 

I sat down on the edge of that big twin bed. Bruce came into the room and 
froze as soon as he saw me sitting there. His eyes wobbled back and forth in 
their sockets as he stared at my breasts and at my crotch. 

"Well," I said to him, "don't be surprised. I am a woman with a woman's 
needs, you know. There's no reason to act so shocked." 

"But, I thought that-" 

"I don't know what you thought," I said to him. "But I'm planning on being 
more than just a mother to you. I'm going to be your lover, too." 

"Lover?" he asked. 

"Your lover," I said, nodding. "Your physical lover." I moved my hand to the 
drawstring on his pajama bottoms. I began to tug. 

"No, please," he said. "I don't think it's right if we-" 

"Bruce," I said. "Look at my breasts. Aren't they nice? Aren't they full and 
round?" 

"Uh huh," he nodded, trying to conceal both his delight and his 
embarrassment. 

"Do the little girls at school have big buxom knockers like that yet?" I 
asked. 

He shook his head. 

"Aren't big breasts like this with nice nipples on the end just what a young 
boy would like?" 

Handsome little Bruce started to smile. He nodded slowly. 

"Would you like to see what I look like without even this skimpy nightgown 
on?" I asked. 

His eyes were staring at my silky triangle of pussy hair now. Since he was 
so fascinated by it I knew I'd have to show it to him. 

"Bruce, this will be your first time in bed with a woman, won't it?" 

He nodded. "Well, then," I said. "Why don't you help me get my clothes off?" 

I stood up in front of Bruce and I unbuttoned a single little catch on the 
top of my gown. The entire front of my gown opened. My breasts came peeking 
out as young Bruce's eyes nearly came popping out of his head. 

"Aren't they nice?" I asked the boy. "Wouldn't you like to kiss and caress a 
big pair of boobs like this?" 

I held the front of that gown open and then let the gown slide down over my 
arms. The whole top of the gown dropped down my body to where I held it at 
the waist. He looked at my bare breasts and then reached forward with his 
childish little left hand. He pawed my right breast. I released the gown and 
let it fall to the ground, baring the pussy and everything else from my toes 
to my hair. 

"Oh, Brucie," I teased as I looked down at him. "I can tell that your 
body-likes my body. Look!" 

He looked down to where I was indicating. His great big penis was swelling 
up beneath his pajamas. The head of that long tool was peeking through the 
slit at the crotch of the pajamas. Within a few more seconds the whole hard 
cock was sticking about four inches out of his pants. 

He tried to cover it up but I wouldn't let him. "No fair hiding it," I said 
as I sat back down next to him and started to undo the knot on the string of 
his pajama drawstrings. "I showed you mine so you have to show me yours." 

"I have to?" he whined. 

"No, Bruce," I said boldly and faking a hurt expression. "If you don't love 
me you don't have to show me your little watering can." 

"But I do love you," he said. "Honest." 

"Then you'll show me your penis," I said. "And then before going to sleep 
we'll do all sorts of nice things with that big penis." 

Bruce was such a shy boy! I guess it was from having to be so quiet around 
his drunken parents. But for me he reached down to the drawstring of his 
pajamas. He undid that drawstring and opened up his pajamas. Out came the 
penis. 

"Oh, Bruce," I signed. "You're very handsome down there." 

"Am I?" he asked. 

"You certainly are," I insisted. I moved my hand to his balls and began to 
caress them. I ran the tip of my thumb up and down the long vein on the 
underside of his penis. And I even flicked the tip of my forefinger right 
across the little spout on the tip of his prick. 

"You're making it feel good," he said. "'very good." The boy began to sigh. 
He took off the top of his pajamas and then I got him to slip out of the 
bottoms, too. My little Bruce was completely nude. 

He may have been young and he may have been a virgin, but he had a fair idea 
of what he was supposed to do once I was naked. His little hands were all 
over my breasts, squeezing my hard nipples between his little fingers. Then 
another of his hands dropped down to my bush. 

As I continued to play with that hard little rod of his he kept pushing his 
hand across the lips of my vagina. I held my legs apart as I sat on the edge 
of that bed. His hand was going squarely across my pussy lips, making my 
whole vagina get drenched with the desire to come. 

Our lips met and I kissed young Bruce passionately as he toyed with my 
vagina and as I toyed with his balls and his prick. But within a few more 
seconds I knew that I wouldn't be able to take much more of a build up 
before I wanted to start orgasming. So I released his penis and lay back 
onto that big twin bed. 

"Brucie," I said teasingly as I held my legs wide apart and wriggled my hips 
sexily so that he could see the great big crack of my cunt, "it's time. Time 
to jam it in." 

"I ... I feel like I'm going to come already," he said nervously. 

"Just put it in, Brucie," I said. "Don't worry about coming too soon or 
you'll go flat immediately. There's nothing worse than a boy who goes flat 
when he's needed to perform for a woman." 

I held those legs of mine apart and the youngster started to crawl onto me. 

"That's it, Brucie," I said to him. "Mount me and then give me the balling 
of my life." 

Brucie dragged his young body on top of mine, working his loins directly 
into position with mine. I thought I was going to have to hold his penis and 
guide it in since he was inexperienced as a lover. But no. Just when I was 
reaching down there and getting ready to guide that rod of his into my wet 
womanly slot the big head of it caught the opening of my crack. 

"Push forward," I said when I felt the head of that rod poke through the 
outer lips. "Poke through those lips and you become a man!" 

His little body was trembling, but I insisted that he service me. Boys have 
to learn sooner or later how to service women. It was better for this little 
fellow to learn sooner. Then he'd know sooner and he'd be able to do his 
duty again. 

He pushed his rod forward and it pushed all the way into me. I could feel it 
pushing down around my cervix and massaging itself against all the most 
sensitive inner spots in my pussy. 

"Oh, Brucie," I moaned as the boy caught on and started to move his rod back 
and forth without my having to tell him. "Oh, Brucie. You're not a boy, 
you're a man! A little sixteen-year-old man with a fat dork!" 

He sloshed that fat rod of his back and forth at an ever accelerating pace, 
jamming the thick head of his young prong repeatedly against my cervix. How 
I moaned! Pretty soon I was squealing. And after that I was emitting long 
shrill howls of delight each time that huge hard stick of his jammed in and 
out of me. 

I kept holding his cock in my vagina with a vice-like grip. I rolled the 
walls of my pussy against that big hard dick of his and I started a series 
of long sustained orgasms, each blast of which I celebrated by uttering 
another of those shrill howls of mine. 

Then I felt his rod stiffen, spasm and begin to spit. I could feel the penis 
wriggling inside of me and I was aware of a feeling of wet warmth way down 
deep inside my pussy. He was coming. I could feel every spurt. 

Each time his penis spasmed and spit a hot gob of semen down into me, my own 
pussy shot back with a little thrust of its own. His penis, having been pent 
up ever since his testicles descended, unloaded a long series as his fair 
young boyish boy lay wriggling nude between my legs. My orgasms continued 
intensely right up until the time his penis shot its last drop and started 
to go limp. 

"Oh, Bruce," I moaned to the boy when he withdrew his long slippery expended 
prick. "Oh, Bruce, that was so good. I think that you should move into my 
bedroom permanently. I think you should play the role of both my son and my 
husband. How's that sound to you?" 

Bruce only grunted, but I could tell that he liked the idea. His come had 
been so intense that he was completely winded. As he panted for air I leaned 
down to his cock and licked it completely clean.... 

...Mrs. S brought her testimony to a close at that point. She allowed me, 
however, in the time remaining in her interview session, to pose a final 
question or two. 

"And Bruce has lived with you ever since?" I asked her. 

"That's right, doctor," she replied. '"We live together and we sleep 
together. What could be nicer? We're just like any other married suburban 
couple." 

"Just like any other couple," I said, "except you're not married and your 
common law husband is only sixteen." 

"These are the Liberal 1970's, doctor," said Mrs. S. matter-of-factly. 
"Nobody gives a flying fuck about things like that any more. I'm sure Brucie 
and I will get legally married someday. If we want to." 

"It won't bother you to have a husband twenty years younger than you?" 

"It doesn't bother me now," she said. "Why should it bother me later?" 

"What if the boy decides he wants to enjoy a younger woman?" I asked. "Would 
you permit it?" 

"Why would he want to do something like that?" Mrs. S. asked sharply. "Don't 
you think that I can keep satisfying the little darling." 

"I'm not questioning that at all," I said to Mrs. S. "But few males these 
days go through their entire lives only making love to a single woman." 

"You'll have to direct questions like that to Bruce" Mrs. S. said. "I 
couldn't answer something like that for him. I only cook, clean, press and 
screw for him. I don't answer his questions." 

"Is it possible for me to meet him?" I asked, seizing on the opportunity to 
meet and speak with a youngster who has been seduced by an older woman. 

"Why not?" she said. "I can drive my little boy-lover over for a meeting if 
you wish. I'd send him over by himself but his bike broke and he's not old 
enough to drive yet." 

We terminated our meeting at that point. Miss Johnson scheduled Mrs. S. and 
little Bruce K. to return three days after that original meeting. Bruce was 
a boy I was most anxious to talk to. I'm sure he could tell things that men 
three times his age might not have known about. 

* * * 

In considering the case of Mrs. S. I was struck with two divergent feelings. 
The traditional part of me told me that there was something irregular if not 
downright "wrong" about the living and sleeping accommodations which Mrs. S. 
and Bruce shared. Yet obviously it was impossible for Bruce to return to his 
real parents since they were ill equipped to provide for him. And going into 
a foster home would hardly be as happy a situation for Bruce as the one he 
now had with Mrs. S. Thus my feelings were mixed when Mrs. S. and the 
handsome youth named Bruce returned to my office for her second visit. 

Bruce was a likable young boy of sixteen. His hair was sandy and his eyes 
were light blue. His face was boyish and cute. When he came to my office 
with Mrs. S. he wore a neat little dark suit, a tie and a conservative white 
shirt. 

Bruce answered my questions directly and with as much detail as he could. 
Mrs. S. sat quietly as Bruce spoke to me. 

"Tell me, Bruce," I said to the boy as we went into the serious part of our 
discussion, "what do you think of Mrs. S. as? A mother? A girlfriend? A 
friend?" 

Bruce looked at Mrs. S. and began to speak. "All of those things," he said 
in his boyish voice. "She's my friend and she took the place of my mother 
when my real mother didn't want me any more. But we screw almost every 
night. So I guess she's my girlfriend, too." 

"What's it like being able to sleep with an older woman every night?" I 
asked the boy. 

He giggled. "I like it," he said. "It makes my little noodle feel good when 
all that stuff comes out" 

"You mean when you ejaculate?" I asked. 

"If that's what you call it," he said. "Usually we just say 'come'. " 

"Tell me," I then continued, "do your friends know that you make love to 
Mrs. S.?" I asked. 

The boy shook his head. "They don't know anything about it," he said. "But 
I'd love to tell them. Some of the girls in school have started to fuck. And 
from what I've heard, my Ella (Mrs. S.) is much more fun in the sack than 
any of those girls at school." 

"Why do you say that?" I asked. 

"Because of the fun way of fucking we have," the boy said. 

"Would you describe it for me?" I asked. And Bruce began.... 

...I guess Ella likes to humor me because I'm just a kid. But a lot of times 
we play games while we fuck. It's not that we don't get down to the serious 
side of fucking, because we do that, too. For example, Ella has taught me 
about cunnilingus and fellatio as well as butt-fucking and being able to 
masturbate myself by rubbing my penis between her tits. All that is nice, 
but I like the games best. 

What kind of games do we play. Well, there's poker. It's strip poker and we 
play strict rules. Whoever loses the hand has to take something off. Whoever 
is nude first has to be on the bottom when we fuck. Then there's a game 
called "houseboy." 

In "houseboy" I take off all my clothes and do a lot of the housework for 
Ella. Then she comes in and pretends she's my wicked stepmother. 

She scolds and tells me that I did a terrible job. She tells me that I'm not 
worthy of being kept in her house and she threatens to throw me out. Usually 
about this time my penis starts to get hard since I'm standing nude in front 
of her. When she sees the penis she asks me what it is. I tell her it's my 
member and she asks me what it's used for. I tell her that, too. 

Then she 'punishes' me by making me to do something with my penis. Once she 
made me masturbate into a plastic bag. Another time she made me rub my penis 
up and down between her buttocks until I came. Then she had me kiss the spot 
where I'd wet. 

But I guess the most fun game that we've ever played was one we played last 
week. It was called "Bad Boy at the Beach." 

It was a lovely das last week so Ella and I drove off to one of the beaches 
about a hundred miles from here. The beach was very deserted. There was no 
one else around beside us. That's when Ella thought about that game. 

All I was wearing was my bathing suit and all she had on was hers. Ella 
looks very nice in a tiny little two piece suit. The top is so small that 
her big breasts almost hang out. And that little bottom is so small that the 
cleavage of her ass can easily be seen and the front of it barely covers up 
her pussy. 

I looked at Ella and I could feel my penis start to move. I looked at those 
big breasts of hers and I imagined those nipples down beneath that skimpy 
little bathing suit. Then I looked down to where the little bottom of that 
bathing suit covered her pussy. As we walked hand in hand on the beach I saw 
that her bathing suit bottom had lowered itself a bit. The top of her muff 
was peeking over the edge of her bathing suit. 

When I saw those stray pussy hairs sticking up a few inches below her navel 
my penis really started to stiffen. The next thing I knew that big rod of 
mine was practically breaking out of the crotch of my bathing suit. That's 
just when Ella looked down at it. 

"You sixteen-year-old leech!" she ranted as she began our game. "Just why in 
hell do you have hard-on?" 

"Ella," I whined, "look!" I motioned to her pussy hair as it stuck up and 
out of that little patch of cloth that wasn't quite covering her crotch. 

"So my tuft is sticking out," she said. "So what? Does that give you the 
right to get hard over me without even asking?" 

I nodded. Then I got fresh with her. I hooked my finger over the bottom of 
her suit and I gave it a fun little tug. The bottom of that bathing suit 
pulled down another few inches, giving me a real good view of her tuft right 
out there on that deserted beach. 

"You've been a bad boy!" she ranted as she quickly covered up by pulling 
that suit back up. "You're going to have to pay the price for being so 
fresh!" 

"Is it a penis price that I'll have to pay?" I asked. I was hopeful. 

"You're damn right it is," she said as I started to move away from her. 
"Just as soon as I catch you that pair of bathing trunks is as good as off!" 

I began to run and she ran right behind me, chasing me down that empty 
beach. I ran right along where the tide was coming in and I knew that she 
was right behind me almost every step of that way. 

"That penis of yours shouldn't be up," she said as she raced after me. "And 
I know the best way in the world to make it limp again." 

We raced along for several hundred feet. Finally she reached straight 
forward and caught me by the seat of those trunks. Her fingers hooked onto 
them and she yanked. With a tremendous rip the trunks came off me ... not 
just part of the way, but completely. 

There I was. Nude and with an enormous hard sticking out from my crotch. But 
Ella wasn't finished punishing me yet for being so fresh. As I stopped 
running and tried to hide my erect dork with my hands, she gave me a push. I 
went over backwards, landing flat on my ass in the shallow water. 

"Ella!" I wailed. "What if somebody comes along and sees me with my hard 
dork sticking out? You know what kind of trouble we'll both be in." 

"They won't even see your big hard dork," she said. 

"Of course they will," I protested. 

"Of course they won't," she insisted. "They won't be looking at it. They're 
going to be looking at my bare nipples and my bare pussy instead." 

I gulped. I knew what my punishment was going to be. I was going to have to 
fuck with Ella right out there on that deserted public beach. Right there in 
all the sunshine and as I was sitting in the shallow water, Ella started to 
unhook the back strap on the top of her bathing suit. 

I looked around to see if somewhere on that beach there might have been 
someone watching us. But I saw no one. And when Ella pulled that bathing 
suit top down and off her big breasts, I knew I was going to be punished in 
the way she saw fit. 

She reached to her bikini bottom and hooked her thumbs into it. Then she 
started to pull it down. That tuft of pussy hair, brown and carefully 
manicured into a triangle, appeared again. But this time she was voluntarily 
showing it. And she had a reason. 

She pulled the bikini bottom all the way down and I saw Ella's big pussy in 
its entirety. I didn't get to see it outdoors very often. That, combined 
with the shallow cold water I was sitting in, made my penis so hard that it 
was beginning to hurt. 

"I think you know what the punishment is going to be, Brucie," she said to 
me. 

"Screwing?" I asked. She nodded. What else. Ella likes to screw in 
excitingly different places. And she had me trapped now. I had to do what 
she wanted. 

Ella walked right up to me as I sat in that water. She straddled my hips 
with her ankles. My mouth was right on a level with her pussy. I took that 
as a hint. I leaned forward and pressed my mouth right into her bush. I 
kissed it. Then I kissed it again, flicking my tongue upwards across the 
vaginal lips as I planted those sloppy wet kisses on her most private part. 

She held my head with her hands and forced me to keep my face pressed 
tightly against her vagina. I inhaled the scent of her pussy and I exhaled 
my hot breath all over that wet slot of hers. She liked the feel of that. I 
sent shivers up and down her body. As I looked up at her I saw that she had 
goose bumps all over her and that her rosy little nipples were dark red and 
as hard as stones. 

"Have you ever fucked in the water?" she asked me. 

"You should know I haven't," I said to her. "You're the only one I've ever 
fucked with, so if I haven't done it with you I haven't done it at all." 

She smiled down at me when I said that to her. Then she spoke again. 

"You'll like screwing in the water," she said to me. "The water is cool and 
it makes the body tighten. That means the vagina can encompass the penis 
more snugly. It makes for a terribly exciting fuck." 

I just nodded. She was the teacher and I was the student. But it soon became 
apparent that she had a master's degree in the art of fucking. 

I stayed squatted down in that water while Ella instructed me to lie back on 
my elbows. I did what she told me. After all, it was her house I was living 
in and a boy can't disobey the closest thing to a parent that he has. 

As I stayed up there on my elbows Ella began to squat down on me, bringing 
that wet furry bush of hers straight down in a sitting position. She scored 
a direct hit on my prick. 

The cool sea water was washing over most of my body and giving me chills. 
But because I was having chills, my hard prick felt ever so warm and 
comfortable inside Ella's warm snug pussy. She started to ride up and down 
as she let her knees and legs drop onto the sand and water. There we were 
out on a public beach screwing in the female superior position in the area 
where the tide was coming in. 

"You see, Bruce," she said as she started to ride furiously up and down on 
my rod. "Fucking in the water can be a lot of fun. You just wait till you 
feel what your orgasm is going to be like." 

I nodded and panted. My penis felt tremendous as it was tucked into her warm 
inner part. I couldn't imagine anything that could possibly make a penis 
feel any better. But that's only because I didn't know what my come was 
going to be like. 

I stroked upward on her, poking my penis forward and back as she lowered and 
raised herself up and down on me. The coolness of the water had slowed down 
my body function so that the sperm didn't gather to ejaculate as fast as it 
normally would have. But even though the sperm was slow in gathering, all 
the usual friction on the penis was there. So by the time I was ready to 
shot-and by the time Ella was driving herself crazy with a series of deeply 
felt pelvic thrusts-my penis was aching for an ejaculation. Not just wanting 
one badly, doctor. I mean aching for a come. 

I thrust myself up and down underneath Ella and finally the penis was ready. 
I felt all the come building down in my balls and I could feel the 
tremendous desire within the shaft itself. Do you know that urgent feeling a 
guy gets just before coming, doctor? That's how my prick had felt for 
several minutes. 

I pumped hard and my prick finally released. Ella actually screamed for joy 
when she felt me come. Her whole body was cold now from being nude splashing 
in the water. But because the body was cold the sperm I shot off seemed 
particularly warm. She said later that she could feel every last drop of hot 
come as it shot up out of my dork. I don't doubt it. I sure felt it. And it 
was a great way to be punished at the end of "Bad Boy at the Beach.".... 

...Bruce concluded his statement at that point and I didn't see much more 
need to question the boy. The intent of the sexual games which Mrs. S. was 
playing was obvious. 

Since Mrs. S. was seeking to fulfill her dominant role as a mother by 
putting the boy in sex games where he was nominally "punished." Further, 
Mrs. S. was attempting to fulfill Bruce's child role by giving him playful 
things to do, such as games. And yet at the same time, these games were 
frank sexual capers in which Mrs. S. fulfilled her role as Bruce's woman. 
All these sexual games ended with the boy having sex with her. And that's 
what they both wanted. 

"Bruce," I said to the boy as I brought the interview to a close, "I've 
heard enough about the actual sex act between you and Mrs. S. I wonder if 
you'd tell me one thing, though." 

"Yes, sir?" the boy replied. 

"If your bathing suit had been torn off during this sex game, how did you 
get back to your home without being reported as indecent?" 

The boy smiled. "I had to go out in the water and walk back the way we 
came," he said. "I was careful to keep in the water where it was up over my 
waist. And I couldn't swim because the one time I did, a little girl saw me 
and spotted my bare ass in the water." 

"What about walking back to the car?" I asked. 

"It was embarrassing," the boy said. "But at least my prick was still 
drained from fucking with Ella. Otherwise I would have gotten a hard-on when 
people saw me. I went back in the direction of the car as far as I could in 
the water. But then I had to go scrambling bare-assed up the beach to where 
Ella had left the car. There were a lot of people in that area when he came 
back. Most of them saw me." 

"Did they stare?" I asked. 

"It was funny," Bruce said. "None of the men cared except for some muscular 
gays who were doing exercises up on the sand. Most of the young girls and 
girls in their teens weren't interested at all when I went by with my limp 
penis bouncing all around. I guess they saw penises so often that it just 
wasn't anything new or exciting to them. But the middle aged women, the 
women of Ella's age. Every one of them really gawked at me." 

"Thank you, Bruce," I said. "I have no further questions. I do, however, 
have a word of advice for Mrs. S." 

When Bruce had left the room I spoke briefly to Ella S. I informed her that 
she had a unique situation with young Bruce and that it appeared to be 
working successfully (given the odd circumstances) and should be allowed to 
run its proper course. My word of advice, however, concerned Bruce's future. 

I warned Mrs. S. not to treat him too much like a husband. "Mark my words," 
I told Mrs. S., "there will come a day when Bruce wishes to wander, perhaps 
to sow some of the proverbial wild oats with young women of his own age." 

"What should I do to stop it?" she asked. 

"That's the hard part," I said. "There's nothing you can do. Just as it 
appears normal for you to sleep with a young boy, it will probably be normal 
for Bruce to want to have his penis in twenty to thirty women before 
choosing a mate. From experience, I advise you to allow the boy as much 
freedom as possible. That way you'll pose less of a threat to him and you'll 
increase your own chances that he'll eventually return back to you." 

Mrs. S. listened impassively to my words and then spoke. "Sorry, doctor," 
she said to me. "My little Bruce has too great a treasure between his legs 
for me to let another female have a crack at it. I'm keeping him locked up 
tight until he's seventeen. Then I'm going to marry him before he can get 
away." 

Naturally I couldn't force my opinions and theories on Mrs. S. I could only 
note that her reaction was not surprising, considering the premium today's 
modern women place on young boy lovers. 

* * * 

SUMMARY 

What more can be said about the increasing number of young boys who are 
seduced every day by American women bent on their new liberated concept of 
sexual freedom and morality? There is little that hasn't been said already 
by these women whose case histories have been candidly put forward in this 
volume. I would, however, like to stress one point to the men of this great 
nation. 

It must never be forgotten that virtually any woman these days might fall 
into what we in the trade refer to as "the child love syndrome". That is to 
say that there is not a single woman in America who might not suddenly take 
up with a young boy. This is a fact that most American men are sadly 
neglecting these days. 

Most men feel that their own wives and mothers or sisters and daughters are 
not "the type" of woman who'd go in for sex with young boys. Sadly, there is 
no "type". Women are women, and increasingly women want to experiment. 

This particular fact that there is no woman who might not attempt to have 
sex with a young boy was brought home to me personally. Not through my wife, 
fortunately, but through my clinical assistant, Miss Johnson. 

When these case histories had been edited and when the tape recordings had 
been reviewed several times, I asked Miss Johnson to confer with me and give 
me both her clinical and professional opinion on several of the women I 
interviewed. We discussed several cases at length for many days. Then, when 
our work was almost concluded, I remarked to Miss Johnson that I could 
diagnose and analyze patients, but I could never fully know what a woman 
feels like when she's having sex with a young boy. 

"That's because you're a man," she said to me with a smile. "I can assure 
you that I know." 

"You?" I asked incredulously. "You know?" 

She nodded. And indeed it was true. 

From listening to so many women who had successfully and unsuccessfully made 
love with boys in their early teens, Miss Johnson, thirty-five, made a 
decision. Second hand information no longer satisfied her. She seduced her 
sister's son, a boy of twelve. 

"Just because I'm not a married woman doesn't mean that I don't have a 
married woman's physical needs, doctor," Miss Johnson said to me. "If I 
don't have sex two or three times a week, for example, I feel like I'm going 
to get physically ill." 

"So you decided to mix business with pleasure?" I asked her. "The sex you'd 
have anyway you decided to have with a youngster." 

"Yes," she said, "but to tell you the truth I'd had my eyes on my sister's 
boy for a year or more. Ever since I was sure he'd passed puberty." 

"Was the sex successful?" I asked. 

"Certainly, doctor," she said. "How could it not be successful when a woman 
gets a young boy who has a rod that hasn't even been touched yet?" 

"Could you give me your own thoughts on the act?" I asked. "From both a 
clinical and feminine point of view." 

"I think," said my assistant, "that making love with a young boy-in 
particular a virgin-is about the most exciting thing a woman can do with her 
body. It's not one of these kinky perverted whips-and-chains things and it's 
certainly not one of these perverse homosexual things. No, doctor, it's a 
clean wholesome form of sex. A woman is getting her love given to her by a 
boy as fresh and innocent as could be, a far cry from getting it from some 
grown man who's already made the rounds of the local sluts. It's just a 
marvelous thing, doctor. Psychologically it can't help but excite and thrill 
a woman. And sexually it can't fail to please. Any woman who doesn't try it 
at least once is denying herself one of life's genuine thrills." 

Miss Johnson is an educated rational woman, not given to premature judgments 
or quick flighty decisions. Her thoughts were well conceived and were based 
both on sexual fulfillment as a woman and clinical observation as a 
professional person. What I found most interesting was that Miss Johnson's 
enthusiasm for what she'd done so clearly matched the enthusiasm of so many 
of the other women I interviewed. 

Enthusiasm. Maybe that's the word that should be discussed. So many women 
today are tired of their traditional roles and tired of sex which bores 
them. Sex with young boys is giving an increasing number of American women 
something to be enthusiastic about as they enter the bedroom. Maybe that's 
the fault of their regular men or maybe it's the virtue of the innocence of 
young boys. In any event, this fad is one that women can be enthusiastic 
about. And perhaps there is the grave threat to the husbands of America. 


THE END
