Virgin's First Time-Breaking Their Cherries
by Unknown


GENERAL INTRODUCTION 

Sweet ... young ... innocent ... virginal. 

Think of the sluttiest whore you know. There was a time when even she could 
be described in those terms. 

We delve now into the dark, steamy mists of time, back into the memories of 
four young women, and let them tell you, in their own words, the sometimes 
grim, sometimes joyous details of those first encounters with hard throbbing 
cocks and thick dripping wads of jism. 

There's always a first time, friends. It may not always be the best time ... 
but it's always memorable. 

As these ladies amply demonstrate. 


CASE HISTORY ONE 

SUBJECT: Jenny Sue R. AGE: Twenty 

INTERVIEW ONE 

Jenny Sue was a phenomenally lovely young girl. She was every dream that 
every boy has ever had of the perfect girl friend. I know she's what I was 
always looking for when I was a kid. Who knows? Maybe if I'd found her, I'd 
be doing something besides living my life vicariously through these stories. 
Then again, maybe I'm just a lech at heart. I know one thing. If there were 
more girls like Jenny Sue in the world, there'd be a damn sight more lechers 
to go with them. 

But, enough of theories. Facts is what this book is about. The straight 
facts, and how people get them straight. Yes, as Jenny Sue's story admirably 
illustrates, people don't always have the facts of life straight, even after 
they've read the books and seen a movie or two (just to make sure they know 
what it all looks like). Her first time very nearly didn't take place ... 
which would mean that she'd still be a virgin now.... 

Ah ... but that's just idle speculation, and not very productive at that. 
There's research to be done! Onward! Inward! 

We were riding around town, me and Rhonda Gail Payne and Myra White, and 
Rhonda was driving which meant that we were at the mercy of a lunatic to 
begin with, but to make things worse, she had a couple of joints that she'd 
stolen from her big brother who might even now be riding around looking for 
us so he could beat us up. 

That's what she said but of course, Myra and me we knew what Rhonda's 
brother looked like, and moreover, we knew his reputation, and I think both 
of us would have been more than willing to negotiate terms, if it came to 
that. I think we could have worked something out with him too ... and worked 
something in, while we were at it. 

Of course, Rhonda, being a sister an all would have had to settle for a 
black eye or something, but I would have gladly gone for the big money 
instead. At seventeen, I was experiencing a constant itch between my thighs, 
and I was getting pretty tired of having to scratch it myself. 

It was pretty frustrating. 

But ... living in a small town like I did, you couldn't just go up to some 
stud on campus (of which there were, in any event, precious few) and say 
"Hey stud, you wanna fuck?" 

I mean, he'd have gladly taken you up on it, if you popped the question ... 
at least, I think he would have ... but you just didn't do things that way. 
There were all kinds of nasty things to consider like reputations ... and 
reputations ... and reputations.... 

"Nice girls don't." 

Says mother. 

Actually, I didn't want to have to correct her, but I believe it was the 
nice girls who did. The good girls didn't. I was good. I wanted to be nice. 

There weren't any nice guys that tickled my interest all that much, however. 

That's about the way Myra White felt about it too. She was the daughter of a 
Southern Baptist preacher, and you can imagine how much freedom she was 
given to go out and get laid. 

Rhonda seemed to be the one among us who should have lost her cherry by now 
... but she hadn't, and she never wanted to talk much about it. I think 
she'd tried a couple of times and had some problems. She sure knew what jism 
felt like, I know that ... we all drew our own conclusions from that fact. 

"It's so sticky," she commented once, rather absentmindedly. 

"How do you know?" Myra was quick to ask. 

"Never you mind," said Rhonda in a huff. The subject was wisely dropped. 

But now, here we were, with our own transportation. And we had drugs. And 
about then was when Myra produced a bottle of tequila. 

"Where'd you get that?" I asked. "I had my sister buy it for me." 

"You mean she did it?" 

"Yeah." 

"Goody goody two-shoes bought you some tequila." 

"Well, she was in a good mood. I think she and Chuck had finally gotten 
laid. You know, she had that kind of weird grin on her face ... like she was 
saying "I know something you don't know" and she didn't have any intentions 
of telling me." 

"Yeah ... I know. Your sister's really an asshole, you know that, Myra." 

"Yeah ... but so are all big sisters." 

"And big brothers," Rhonda pointed out. "Let's not forget them. Particularly 
when one of them might be looking for us right now." 

"Oh, how's he going to know that you took two joints' worth of pot from 
him?" 

"Because he always rolls up his bags as soon as he buys them. And he keeps a 
careful count of his joints." 

"Really? Gosh, what an asshole." 

"I told you." 

"Well," said Myra, "let's quit talking about joints and start smoking them 
... what do you say." 

Rhonda looked back at me. "How about you, Jenny Sue. You want to try some?" 

"I don't know...." I said dubiously. 

"Oh, come on, it's not going to hurt you." 

"I know...." 

"We've been doing it for almost a year now ... and we're still normal." 

"That's not fair ... you were never normal." 

"The point is, we haven't changed, have we?" 

"No ... I guess not...." 

"Come on, what do you say?" 

"Well, I'd rather try some of that tequila." 

"Okay ... sounds fine, they mix real good." 

"I don't know...." 

I guess I really was in a kind of partying mood. Maybe it was because I was 
so damned horny, it was loosening up my inhibitions. I first popped the top 
on the tequila bottle and sniffed it. 

"God ... it's a weapon." 

"Try some." 

"I will ... I will ... don't rush me." 

"Come on,, Jenny Sue ... it's time you grew up." 

"I know ... I know ... you've been telling me that for a long time now...." 

I touched the rim of the bottle to my lips, and then, taking a deep breath, 
I tilted the bottle up and filled my mouth. I didn't have a lot of 
experience with liquor anyway, and never tequila. 

At first, it didn't really have much of an effect on me, but that was just 
because my nerve endings were sizzled numb from the blast of the drink. 

Then, it hit me, and it felt like a ball of fire racing through my body. 

I made a terrible face ... at least I assumed that it was terrible, because 
Rhonda and Myra started to laugh, and then they just kept on laughing. 

Well, that pretty much got me pissed off ... and I told them so too. 

"Oh, lighten up, Jenny Sue, would you please," said Rhonda. "I mean, really, 
you can't even take a joke, can you?" 

"Stop laughing at me," I sulked, but then I reached for the bottle again. 

"Unh-hunh...." said Myra, knowingly. "I might have known. You're a real 
hell-raiser at heart underneath that goody goody exterior. 

I did ,'t answer her. 

That was because I was making damn sure that I didn't say anything. I wasn't 
about to let her think that I was agreeing with her. But I couldn't let her 
know that underneath the surface, I was scared out of my mind. I didn't know 
what I was doing, really, only that if I wanted to keep it up, I was going 
to have to drink more of this foul tasting stuff. 

"You know," said Rhonda Gail, "my brother showed me how you're supposed to 
drink that stuff one time." 

"You weren't ever supposed to drink it," said Myra, "I think you were just 
supposed to inject it into your veins. I can't believe that it was meant to 
touch your tongue." 

"Oh yeah," Rhonda assured her. "You're supposed to put some salt on your 
tongue first, and then you're supposed to bite down on a slice of lemon the 
second you finish drinking." 

I felt this second hit go down ... and it burned too, but I guessed that my 
nerves were already roasted to charred cinders, because it didn't feel 
nearly as painful as the first one was. 

Then, I went ahead and took a deep swig ... and that one actually was almost 
easy to take. 

"That's the way," said Rhonda Gail when she saw me back there with the 
bottle having a good old time, "you should just get it all out of the way as 
fast as you can, get the stuff to your brain, and then whatever else you 
want to do goes a lot easier." 

"You can tell that she's had a lot of experience doing the wrong things," 
Myra quipped. 

"What are you talking about, you little snip? It just so happens that I have 
absolutely no apologies to make for anything that I've done .. ever ... for 
any reason." 

"Well, I think that says more about you than it does about what you've 
done," said Myra. 

"Oh, you just shut up. You hear? You're just jealous because I went riding 
last week with Johnny King, and you wanted to land him yourself." 

"I wouldn't call going for a ride landing him. Has he asked you out for a 
real date?" 

"No...." said Rhonda Gail sharply, "but he will. I know he will." 

"How do you know?" 

"Because." 

"Because how?" Myra pressed. 

"Oh ... I get it. Boy ... that's a real reliable source, don't you think?" 

I didn't realize that she was talking to me. 

They both started to laugh. 

"My God," said Rhonda Gail, "would you look at that? I think you'd better 
take that bottle away from her. She's going to get carried away, and then 
we're just going to have a lifeless corpse on our hands." 

I started to giggle. 

"Oh God ... would you listen to that," Myra lamented."What were you 
thinking, Jenny? You don't go drinking all that much so fast!" 

"That's not what Rhonda said," I muttered, slurring my words, and finding it 
extremely funny. 

"Well ... when Rhonda talks about drinking, she know how much she. can 
handle, and it's perfectly clear to me that you don't." 

"Oh ... you just leave me alone," I said, giggling even harder. "I'm going 
to have fun tonight. I'm going to have a good time tonight." 

"Mmmmmmmm," said Rhonda, staring at me. "I'll just bet you will." 

I missed the tone in her voice, so when Myra said "What's going through that 
deceitful brain of yours, Rhonda Gail Payne?" I didn't know what she was 
getting at. 

"Oh...." said Rhonda, "nothing. Much." 

"Yeah ... that's what I thought." 

"You don't know what I'm thinking," said Rhonda. 

"Yeah ... well, I know that tone of voice when you get it, and I know that 
whatever you're thinking, it can't be very good." 

"Sure it can. It does everybody good. I mean, everyone has to go through it, 
don't they?" 

"Rhonda...." said Myra.... 

"Go through what," I chirpped from the back seat. "Whatever it is ... I want 
to do it. I want to go through it. What am I going through?" 

Rhonda and Myra looked at each other. 

"Are you thinking what I think you're thinking?" asked Myra. 

"I probably am," said Rhonda, with a grin that even I couldn't miss as being 
wicked. 

"What's going on?" I asked. 

"Nothing, dear. Nothing that you won't find out about soon enough," said 
Rhonda patting me on the knee. Then she handed back the bottle of tequila 
that she'd taken away from me. "Here dear, you go ahead and have another 
couple of swigs. Make them good and hearty. You'll need all the confidence 
you can get, and this is a lot easier to get than the real kind." 

"Rhonda," said Myra, wonderingly, "your capacity for devious deeds astounds 
me." 

"Tell me about it," said Rhonda as I started to drink. "It's almost as large 
as yours." 

"Yeah ... almost ... but not quite." 

"I've got something that's larger than both of you two," I chirped again. 

"You sure do, honey," said Rhonda, giving me what I later recalled as a 
pitying look. "And tonight," she went on, "you're going to learn how to use 
them." 

They both laughed. 

And then, things started to get real fuzzy. 

We were driving around for a while, I know that ... and after I'd had a 
couple more belts of the tequila, or maybe three or four more ... or,' hell, 
I have to be honest with you ... I just don't know how fucking drunk I got, 
but I know I have one hell of a head strapped onto my shoulders ... I'd 
never even been tipsy before, and now, here I was, chugging straight 
tequila. I should have known better, and Rhonda and Myra, who did know 
better, weren't saying anything. 

Pretty soon, Myra stuck a lit joint in front of me. 

I shook my head out of instinct. 

"No...." I said agreeably, "I can't see it." 

"What do you mean you can't see it," she-hot back, "it's right in front of 
you! Open your eyes!" 

Well, for some reason, I wasn't expecting that. I'd gotten used to people 
just accepting the fact that I didn't smoke, without comment. It didn't work 
so well this time. 

But then, my reasons for turning it down were by no means as solid this time 
either. I was so dizzy and fucked up already that I couldn't have made a 
convincing argument that my name was Jenny Sue ... let alone that I 
shouldn't be smoking pot. 

So rather than get mixed up in a fuss that I wouldn't have had a prayer of a 
chance of getting myself out of right side up, I went ahead and took it. My 
fingers, like the rest of me, were pretty clumsy by this time. 

I dropped the lit joint on the floorboard of the car. 

Rhonda shrieked. 

"Pick it up ... pick it up!!!! My mother goes over my car with a 
fine-toothed comb!!! She'll know ... she'll know." 

"Christ," said Myra. "And here I thought you were the big shot, in control 
of your world. You're just as afraid of your parents as the rest of us are 
of ours." 

"I'm not afraid of my parents," said Rhonda, indignantly. But it was too 
late, even I, in my condition, recognized that, and I said, "You're full of 
it," to her. She liked that the way she liked rape. 

I picked up the joint, stuck it in my mouth, and then I realized that I 
didn't know what I was doing. 

"What do you do?" I asked, feeling stupid. 

"You suck ... and you fill your lungs...." said Myra, "and then, when you 
feel like you can't possibly hold it in any more ... you keep holding it in. 
. okay?" 

I nodded, and began to suck. The smoke went down hot and harsh, and I 
started to feel a violent cough coming up ... but somehow I held it back ... 
choking silently, but keeping the smoke in my lungs. 

"Boy...." said Myra, admiringly, "that's like a real pro." 

I finally let the smoke out, already feeling like I'd just left the world 
and somehow wandered into a Warner Brothers cartoon. 

"My ... Goooodddd .;" I said, my voice trailing off. 

"You gotta remember," said Rhonda, "tequila's going to make it all seem a 
lot stronger to her as it is. And it's her first time." 

"Yeah," Myra said, sadly. "I guess there's some kind of law about doing this 
on purpose, isn't there?" 

"Sure ... I guess so. Who's going to catch us?" 

"It depends on what we get caught at ... which should be nothing ... if 
we're lucky ... right?" 

"Mmmmmmmmmmm ... yeah...." 

I was trying to suck on the joint again ... and by this time, my brain was 
ready for the cheese factory. I mean I was potted, sour, rancid, and there 
wasn't anything left of me that was worth talking about. 

I just leaned against the back seat and started to giggle. 

I kept on giggling ... and I just kept on giggling ... and I couldn't stop. 

I didn't realize where we were ... but then, when I looked out the window 
again, everything had changed. 

"Where are we?" I mumbled. 

"We're in the next state," said Myra. 

I believed her. Of course I believed her! What did I know, for the love of 
Christ! 

They started laughing when I began to raise a fuss. 

"Easy easy...." said Rhonda ... we're just in Pensacola. That's all. Calm 
down." 

I frowned, looking around. It didn't look like Pensacola. It didn't look 
like any place .that I'd ever been in my life ... and then ... magically, as 
if someone had flicked a switch, everything seemed to change ... well, I 
know better, of course ... it just became familiar again ... and I was able 
to see where they'd taken me. 

"My God ... what are we doing down here?" I asked. 

Rhonda said "We're going to party." 

"Oh...." I said, dubiously. This was a kind of scummy section of town. 

"Sure ... this is where you go when you want to pick up some real hot 
action." 

I stared at her. 

"You aren't serious?" 

"Jenny Sue, we've been telling you for a long time that you should come out 
with us when we go out on the prowl ... like tonight. It's a lot of fun, and 
you sure could use the experience." 

"Really," said Rhonda, "like, tonight, for example. If you'd been with us 
before, you'd have a better idea of the place, and you'd know what to expect 
from it ... the kinds of guys that you meet ... that sort of thing. It's 
good experience." 

"Wait," I said feeling frightened all of a sudden, "I don't know about 
meeting any guys ... I never thought we were going to come down here to meet 
guys. I don't know what to say to anyone down here ... I'm so fucked up I 
can hardly talk to you two." 

"Which means that you'll be real attractive to anyone you run into," said 
Rhonda . giggling. 

I heard Myra say to her, "We can't just let her loose on her own ... she 
won't last two minutes down here." 

Rhonda looked at her. "Wanna put some money on it?" 

"Wait a minute," I cried out, " want to get out of the car." 

"But Jenny Sue ... we're going to be right there with you." 

"The hell you are...." I said really feeling the adrenaline pumping in me 
now. "I heard what you said. You're just going to set me out here." 

I was getting scared. 

This was a part of town where sailors all went to get drunk and to pick up 
wild crazy high-school girls like Rhonda and Myra, or else to just score a 
hooker, of which there was a wide variety down here. 

"What do you think," said Myra, "should we let her in on it?" 

"Sure ... why not. She's going to have to figure it out soon enough." 

Myra looked back at me. 

"How'd you like to pick up a couple of hundred bucks, for about a half-hour 
of work?" 

I stared at her. 

"What are you talking about?" 

"Well ... it's something that we do once in a while ... not a lot, believe 
me. But now and then ... it's real easy work." 

I already knew what she was talking about. "No! I won't do it!" 

"Jenny," said Rhonda ... "you already decided that you were going to get 
laid tonight ... I heard you." 

"I never said that!" 

"It doesn't matter, that's what you were thinking, and you know that it's 
true, because it is a fact." 

"No ... I didn't sav that," I babbled, knowing that I'd actually started 
drinking from the first for that very reason. I had a feeling that the two 
of them would make a strong effort to score some guys and I didn't want to 
be a party pooper. They'd invited me, and I'd accepted, and there'd more or 
less been an unspoken agreement that I wasn't going to back out ... like I'd 
done once before. 

But this was insane. 

"You take money for it?" 

"NOOOO ... well ... yeah ... sometimes. But it's not the same thing." 

"What isn't? 

"Well, it's not like we're really whores. I mean, they give us money because 
they think we are, but we aren't really." 

"You are if you'll take money!" I protested. 

"Well ... that's just a technicality. But we'd fuck for free too ... that's 
the difference. A real whore wouldn't. She couldn't, because her pimp would 
cut off her tits for doing that." 

"Let me out of here," I said, starting to get scared. "You're crazy!" 

"No we aren't ... and you'll see what we mean real soon...." 

"Rhonda ... come on," I said, starting to beg. I was scared. 

Myra said, "I knew this would happen. I told you, she's not ready. But 
nooooo ... you had to go and push it, and now we're down here, and there's 
nothing that we can do. We've got a paranoid crybaby in the car with us." 

Rhonda pulled over to the curb and turned around to look at me. 

"Jenny ... don't you understand. You're a virgin. That means that when you 
fuck tonight, it's going to be a once in a lifetime thing. I'm not kidding, 
you'll spend the rest of your life regretting it if you don't make it 
memorable." 

"But-but ... isn't its supposed to mean something?" 

" What would you rather do .. go pick up a couple of jocks like you thought 
we were going to do, and give it away for free? Think of it, Jenny ... the 
first time. Do you realize what guys are willing to spend for something like 
that?" 

"You're sick." 

"No ... and if you'll just think about it for a little bit, I think you'll 
agree. Here ... here's something to help you along." 

She handed me back the tequila bottle. I stared at it. 

I'm telling you ... I felt really weird ... like I was on another planet or 
something. It was the kind of thing that I hadn't ever experienced before 
... not having the faintest idea what was right and what was crazy. 

The whole world was spinning and shaking, and starting to melt, actually, 
from the pot ... and I was scared ... confused.... 

But damn it, she'd been right about one thing. 

I'd come with them to get laid. It was an unspoken thing ... so unspoken, I 
don't think they were even convinced that I'd go through with it ... but I'd 
been determined at the outset ... and I couldn't quite see going home with 
my pussy intact. I wanted to get laid ... damn it! And the more I thought 
about it ... and the more I sucked on that bottle ... feeling that hot 
liquid float through my veins, the more I realized that it was precisely 
what I wanted ... I wanted to get laid ... and I was willing to let Rhonda 
and Myra lead the way ... as much as I was afraid to trust them ... as much 
as I didn't know at all what the hell I was doing ... and as scared as I was 
... I was going to do it.... 

I noticed that Rhonda was smiling at me. "You look like someone who's made a 
decision." 

"I don't know .." I said, haltingly. 

"Good enough," Rhonda said, starting the car again. "I know just the spot 
where we'll bag some real fish." 

We drove to a seedy looking club off of Palafax, and I said to her, "We'll 
never get in here." 

"How come?" 

"I can't pass for eighteen," I protested. 

"Wrong, on two counts. One, anyone with tits like you've got can pass for 
anything she wants to pass for ... and two ... the drinking age in this club 
is a buck fifty. Period." 

We got out ... and I was feeling more and more weird. 

Inside, we found a table, and sat at it. 

Pretty soon, there were some sailors hanging around us. Pensacola, in case 
you didn't know, Doc, is a major training center for Naval aviation. Most of 
the sailors who were in there weren't all that much older than we were ... 
and like Rhonda assured me, we all passed for older. 

She said to me, "I'll do the talking." 

Suddenly, two guys materialized out of no where and sat down with us. 

"Hey, ladies, you're looking a little lonely. I'll just bet you're dying for 
some company." 

"Mmmmmmmmm," said Rhonda, eyeing them over. 'Might be. You got a friend?" 

They looked at me, and then at Myra, and then back at Rhonda. "I'm afraid 
not, darling ... it's just us. But I'll bet you we can take on all three of 
you." 

Rhonda smiled. 

"You seem to have the wrong idea of us girls," said Rhonda. "We're sort of a 
matched set." 

"Sounds fine to me," said the guy. 

"Does it? Well, let me tell you, sweetheart, we don't come cheap. Especially 
my friend over there." 

They were starting to get the message. 

I saw them both looking at me, and then look back at Rhonda. They talked for 
a while more. I was feeling a little numb, really. Nothing made any sense. I 
felt like I should be frightened, but I was just kind of groggy. I could see 
them staring at me again ... watching me ... looking me up and down, and 
then, he looked back at Rhonda, whispered something in her ear. 

"Rhonda said something back to him, and they all stood up. 

"Come on, Jenny Sue ... it's time." I was scared. "I ... I mean...." 

But "Jenny ... don't fuck this up. 

They've got a room ... and they're willing ... do you hear me? I mean, 
they're going to pay for all three of us." 

"How much," I asked. 

"A lot. Believe me." 

"How much?" 

"Five hundred. That's two for you, and one-fifty for the two of us. Sound 
good?" I stared at her. "I'm scared." 

"Yeah., well, I don't blame you. But I see something else there, and it's 
not fear ... believe me." 

I couldn't deny it. The two guys were cute ... and they seemed safe ... but 
how was I to know? I was so fucked up I couldn't hardly remember my name. I 
had to trust Rhonda's instincts. Myra seemed willing to. I wondered ... were 
these two girls smart enough to pull this off? Was I? 

There wasn't much time to think about it. Soon, we were pulling up in front 
of their motel ... a Holiday Inn outside of town, nearly at Interstate-10. 

"Ladies," slid the tall blond, holding the door and waving us inside. 

They closed the door, the other one turned on the TV. "All right!" he said 
enthusiastically, "it's an old Twilight Zone that I've never seen before." 

"I'll fucking show you the Twilight Zone, asshole," said his friend. Turn 
that shit off." 

"Leave it on," said Rhonda. "It's kind of appropriate, actually." 

I was amazed at her voice. She was sounding like a real tough chick ... like 
someone who knew exactly what she was doing ... who was experienced, and who 
might really have a pimp waiting for her and who knew exactly where she was. 

They were treating her seriously, at least as far as I could tell they were. 

The blond said "I'm Larry. This is my friend Chuck. You'll have to forgive 
him. He's addicted to television, and I don't think there's anything that 
would ever come first in his life." 

"Aw, you're just full of shit," he said. 

"You think so? We'll see." 

Rhonda stood up and to my surprise started to take off her blouse. 

"We going to talk? Or are we going to dance?" 

Larry smiled. "I think we should dance ... definitely. Most definitely. The 
question is ... who dances with whom?" 

'Rhonda wrapped her fingers through his hairs"Oooooo, I like that. A man who 
knows his syntax. You can talk, honey. But do you know how to fuck? Hmmmmmm? 
Can you fuck a lady and make her feel like she's had a real man?" 

I couldn't believe the way Rhonda was talking ... her voice was so soft ... 
so delicate ... and yet, the things she was saying, and the way that she was 
saying them were all so hard edged ... it was like being in the room with a 
stranger. Myra, I noticed, had been simply watching ... a blank, 
expressionless look on her face. I realized that I had been copying her, 
without even thinking about it. I guessed we both looked Hike we knew what 
we were doing, but now, I was going to try myself out. 

Then, I remembered that Rhonda had said to let her do the talking. 

I was the virgin ... I thought. I assumed that she'd told them they were 
getting someone for the first time. 

Chuck turned to me. 

"You really still got your cherry? Huh, doll?" 

Larry stepped between Chuck and me. "Don't see why you're so all fired up 
about wondering, Chuck. I'm giving you two ... and I take her." 

"Aw, the hell you do." 

Larry turned to Chuck and silenced him with a stare. I didn't have any 
further questions about who was calling the shots with who between the two 
of them. 

Chuck seemed to sort of shrink back in his seat, watching me, kind of 
wondering what was going on behind my blank stare. 

Larry, on the other hand, didn't seem to care. 

Whatever I was thinking, it wasn't going to change his goal ... or alter his 
plans. I could see that. 

Rhonda was down to panties and a bra now. 

I'd seen her in gym class, of course ... but somehow, in this motel room, 
with the air as charged aas it was, she looked a lot sexier than I'd ever 
thought before. Maybe it had something to do with the confidence that she 
was demonstrating. I was impressed ... really impressed. 

She turned to me. 

"You guys aren't in a real big hurry, are you?" 

"Aren't you?" 

"Nope. No reason to be. You're paying well. We'll give you your money's 
worth." 

"I like the way the lady talks," said Chuck. 

Larry ignored him. 

"What's on your mind, doll?" 

"Well, you have to understand," she said, walking first to Myra, and then to 
me, touching us both on the cheek, "we're good friends. Real close ... you 
understand. That's why we're here together. We're real close ... real close 
... you understand?" 

Larry slowly removed his pants, and started to smile. 

"Yeah, doll, I think I understand real fine. Why don't you demonstrate." 

I didn't quite know what Rhonda had in mind, but I knew one thing. I sure 
could have used another drink. 

"Any more tequila left?" I asked. 

She dropped her composure a moment, but then Myra said, "Here. You boys like 
some? This is the original fire water here." 

I took a hard swig and then the bottle circled the room. It came back to me, 
and I killed it off. 

Now, I was ready for whatever Rhonda had in mind. Follow their lead, I kept 
telling myself, knowing that I couldn't do much thinking beyond that, or 
else I'd think myself right into the blindest panic I'd ever have been 
sucked into. 

Myra stood and calmly, still without an expression on her face, started to 
undress. 

I did likewise, congratulating myself for not looking like I needed the two 
of them to cue my every move. 

Myra's blouse opened on braless tits, and I looked at them a moment, 
jiggling and swaying. 

An itch flared between my legs. 

I started to feel a bit hot ... and felt a thin layer of sweat breaking out 
all over my body. 

I pulled my blouse off, not thinking about what was happening ... I was 
naked ... I was naked ... in front of two men that I didn't even know. 

It wasn't the first time that I'd taken my clothes off in front of a guy ... 
and it wasn't even the first time that I'd done it for the express purpose 
of getting laid ... but it was the first time that I'd had any reason to 
assume that I probably would get laid. The last time had been after the 
hayride with Wilbur Freen, and all that had happened was that I'd gotten a 
hot load of jism all over my tits and my stomach.... 

He'd never even gotten it near my cunt before splattering me. 

I'd waited a good long while before daring to try again. 

Tonight was the night that I'd dared. 

And here I was ... watching Rhonda and Myra getting naked, feeling my 
exposed skin break out in goose-bumps. 

Larry and Chuck were stripped down to their shorts now?. and I could see 
huge cocks bulging beneath the material. I knew what cocks looked like ... I 
mean, there are magazines now that are made for horny women like me ... but 
I'd never seen one that was hard ... and I have to say, I was shocked. 

There's quite a difference between a hard cock, and one that's soft, that's 
just dangling between a guy's legs like wet spaghetti. 

I stared, watching the head of Chuck's cock peeking out beneath his shorts. 
I was stunned. 

"Christ ... she really is inexperienced, isn't she?" Larry said, noticing 
the look of astonishment that had crossed my face. 

"I told you she was," said Rhonda, walking over to me. While her back was 
turned, she was studying me closely. She gave me a wink, and I managed a 
quick smile in return. It was on. I was ready. She was relieved. 

"But don't let her fool you, boys, she's hot, and I'm going to show you just 
how hot." 

She had her hands on my shoulders now ... and I was surprised to feel her 
touching me. 

I don't know what it is ... you just never think about your friends touching 
you ... not like this .. not in this context.... 

But she was touching me. : and her fingers were starting to move down from 
my shoulders, all the way down to my tits ... and when they found my 
nipples, the tiny brown buds were already hard ... and throbbing. 

She let her fingers start to close around them, and I couldn't help myself. 
I let out a gasp. It felt so good ... so strange ... but so good. And I was 
so unused to something like this ::. it was all just too ... too much. 

Rhonda was staring at me now, real hard.... 

Her eyes seemed to be deeper than I'd ever thought possible ... and she 
seemed to be much more serious than I'd realized she was, earlier. My God, I 
thought ... she's really going to teach me ... she's really going to show 
me.... 

She pulled on my nipples now?. pulled harder and harder ... pulled me closer 
and closer to her.... 

I watched her mouth open, almost as if it had nothing to do with me ... but 
it did, and I knew it.... 

She brought it down hard onto my lips, and I opened my mouth, fighting back 
an impulse to resist ... but there was no resistance ... there was nothing 
but the feeling of her lips ... her tongue as it raced into my mouth ... and 
her fingers, still on my nipples ... pulling on them, pinching them, 
stretching my breasts. 

I felt my heart starting to race faster ... faster.... 

She was probing more deeply now, pressing her tongue further and further 
into my mouth, and at the same time, she was dropping one hand between my 
legs. 

I felt her fingers moving up past my thighs ... stroking the inner surface 
... I felt the tips of her fingers starting to work over my pussy.... 

She touched the outer lips ... she touched the tip of my clitoris, and 
although I'd masturbated before and knew exactly what my clitoris was for, I 
didn't have the faintest idea that it could ever feel so powerful ... so 
strong. She pressed harder on it, and a sensation ripped through my body, 
all the way through me, charging every one of my nerve endings. 

If my nipples hadn't already gotten completely hard, they certainly were 
now. I could feel the surface flesh of the sensitive buds stretching as they 
swelled out, as they grew more and more stiff. 

"Oh ... oh ... oh...." I gasped. 

I could hear Chuck and Larry muttering behind me ... saying things like 
"Damn...." and "Fucking 'A'," and things like that. I didn't pay any 
attention to them right then though ... there were other things on my mind. 
Like the way Rhonda's fingers were starting to feel out the rim of my hole. 
She touched the inner edge, began to push at it, and then she started to 
stretch me. Not hard. But more than I'd ever been stretched before. 

My knees started to feel weak. I started to falter ... to give way to the 
sensations that were filling me ... turning me into a quivering mass of 
aroused flesh, into something that could only react, that could no longer 
think. Admittedly, the booze had already gone a long way toward doing that, 
but now, I was out of my head, and there wasn't much that I could do to stop 
it. The feeling seemed to feed on itself. 

She dragged the tip of her forefinger over my cunt ... right up through my 
slit. 

I gasped. The feeling was the same as if she'd touched a life electrode to 
my pussy. 

"Ohhhhhhh...." I gasped. 

"Hey ... listen to that," Larry said to Chuck. "That virgin pussy's getting 
all heated up, and soft, and hot, and ready. Just for me." 

"Or me, damn you." 

"Don't hold your breath waiting, asshole. I'm paying for this." 

"I told you I'd pay you back!" 

"Fine. That still doesn't give you any rights. You may ... and you may not. 
I'm climbing on her first." 

Chuck fell silent. I was glad. I didn't like him anyway, and the more they 
argued, the less I was able to concentrate on the delicious sensations that 
were flooding my body now. 

She was tickling my clitoris over and over, very lightly, but making the 
motions faster and faster.... 

"Oh ... God," I gasped. 

And then, I felt something else ... at first, I jumped, and let out a small 
squeal ... but then, I realized what was happening. 

Myra had dropped to her knees behind me and was starting to slip her tongue 
up between my ass cheeks. 

I was getting it from both ends, and I was getting it in a way that I'd 
never felt before. 

My body was supercharged. I couldn't stop the sensation. It was fantastic. 

And then, Rhonda led me over to the bed, gently opened my legs, and placed 
her head between them. 

"All right," I heard her say as she stared at my pussy. "You're getting good 
and wet ... real hot. That's just fine. You boys are going to be yourself 
one primed cunt when we get through with her." 

"You just keep doing what you do best, sweetheart," said Larry, watching 
with approval. 

Rhonda started to lick at my cunt now ... she was taking slow, delicate 
strokes, starting down at the bottom of my slit, moving the tip of her 
tongue all the way up through my slit ... all the way over my hole, up to 
the exposed tip of my clitoris, and all the way over the stiffened shaft, 
till it got the the very top of my slit. 

Then, she moved back down to the bottom again. 

She repeated the movement, much more slowly this time. I felt myself shiver 
as her tongue slowly crossed through my pussy. I was quivering .:: all my 
muscles were taut, on edge. I was sucking in my breath now in hard, tortured 
gasps, and I was crying out as I let each hot breath back out of my lungs. 

Time seemed to be stopping. 

I could feel juices flowing from inside my body ... I could feel my pussy 
lips as they slid softly over each other. Her tongue moved delicately 
through my pubic hair. It moved down over the edge of each lip. 

She sucked the loose flesh of each lip into her mouth, sucked hard, hard 
enough that when she pulled her head away, my pussy lips stayed in her hot 
mouth. 

She stretched them as far as she could, until they finally popped back out 
of her mouth. 

Then, she took each one again between her lips, sucking on it and this time, 
holding it in place with the edges of her teeth, not biting hard, but 
applying enough pressure to keep the lips inside her mouth this time, even 
though she was stretching them much further than she had before. 

I was writhing now in agony. It was an agony of ecstasy, pain and pleasure 
mixed ... fear and excitement. . all wrapped up into one package. And it was 
only starting. 

 INTERVIEW TWO 

I watched Larry more closely now. I could feel his eyes almost burning into 
my pussy. 

I ran my fingers through my lips. 

It felt hot and soft and moist. 

I was no longer the same person who had first started out this evening. I 
hadn't .discovered the strength that it would require for me to assume 
whatever new identity was waiting for me, but I knew that I'd thrown out my 
old personality already. I couldn't think about it yet ... and so I didn't 
bother trying. I just tried to flow with it ... to feel it. 

I felt it. 

I felt Rhonda's tongue slipping in and out of my cunt like it was a worm and 
I was an apple. 

I felt the fire bursting between my legs. I felt the hot gaze of Larry and 
Chuck on my body. 

I felt Myra's lips as they lovingly carressed my tits, as she sucked first 
one then the other nipple into my mouth. 

I felt the tension in the room and it was growing stronger all the time, 
until now I felt like I was about to burst ... about to explode. 

I couldn't stand it. 

I was shaking, still from fear, but now from passion and lust as well. I was 
moaning ... I could feel all the muscles in my body going crazy. 

"What do you think . Chuck, old boy," I heard Larry say. "What do you think 
about these fine ladies here?" 

"I think you're a pig and a fucking selfish bastard ihat's what I think." 

" Yeah ... well, you may have a point there, Chuck. Yep. You may just have a 
point there." 

"Yeah? Well ... what the fucking hell do you plan on doing about it?" 

"What do I plan on doing about it? Well, Chuck old boy, I'm not sure, but 
I'll tell you what. I sure as hell don't want to be a pig, and a selfish 
bastard. No sir. I sure as hell don't." 

I listened to the two of them, and I couldn't tell if they were serious or 
if they were just having fun, kidding me ... playing games ... or maybe just 
kidding each other. 

I listened, and I felt Rhonda's mad tongue going crazier and crazier .. 

I felt more and more sensations flooding my body. I spread my legs even 
further apart ... felt her tongue slam straight into me now. 

She had it tightened up into a thick muscle, and each time she pressed it 
into me, I could feel it stretching my hole. I looked back over at Chuck and 
Larry, both of whom had taken their shorts off now, and I could see the size 
of their cocks, swollen and stiff. I wondered if they'd rip me open. 

"Tell you what, Chuck," said Larry. "What do you say we work out a 
compromise. I mean, I don't want to exclude you. She's a virgin after all, 
and they Eire a vanishing breed, don't you think? I'd hate to keep you from 
the only chance you may ever have to fuck one of them." 

"Well, damn Larry, that's right nice of you. One thing. How you figure we 
both gonna get to fuck a virgin. I mean, you go first, she's not a virgin 
any more ... you know what I mean?" 

"Right," Larry said, hesitating. "But ... there are ways ... I mean ... face 
it, a fuck's a fuck ... right? Pussy's pussy, and the worst pussy in the 
world is...." ... "fantastic," Chuck said it with him. 

"Right you are, boy. So ... the whole idea of fucking a virgin is kind of a 
spiritual thing ... don't you think?" 

Chuck eyed Larry coldly. 

"What the flying fuck're you jibbering about?" 

"Well, you have to fuck her while she's still a virgin ... right?" He 
nodded. 

"And I'm paying ... so I'm damn sure going to fuck her while she's still a 
virgin. I mean, I'm going to stick the old monster right up there between 
her legs, and jam that sweet slit of hers nice and full ... and then I'm 
going to fill her even fuller. You know what I mean?" 

"I guess there's a point here somewhere, right? I mean, I assume that's why 
you're taking all this time ... right? I just wish you'd get to it." 

"Chuck, there ain't just one hole, you know." 

Chuck frowned a moment. I think I caught on before he did. 

"Oh no...." I said, sitting up. 

Rhonda pushed me back down, giving me a dirty look. 

"Look," I protested ... but it did no good. She sliced her finger across her 
throat, a quick slashing movement, and I couldn't help but get the message. 

She looked like someone had just threatened to cut off her tits, her face 
was so white. I guessed I didn't know everything about image and appearence 
... because I guessed I'd just about blown the whole show, from the. way she 
was looking. 

"You know something, Larry," said Chuck. "You're an asshole. I don't want 
there to be any mistake about that. You're an asshole, and you don't have a 
bit of value to you at all ... but damn it, you're a good asshole ... and 
you use your head. I like that." 

They turned to me. 

"Okay, ladies, out of the way. There's a couple of men here who need to show 
you the proper way to treat a cherry." 

"You pop it," said Chuck, giggling like a demented fool. 

"Come on now boys. Don't go getting carried away with yourselves now. She's 
young and she's delicate. You know what I mean?" 

Larry looked Rhonda up and down. 

"I want you to suck my balls and lick my asshole, all right? While I'm 
fucking her. You got that?" 

"Yeah," said Rhonda. "I got that. Like I said. You be careful with her. 
She's inexperienced with cocks." 

"Obviously. That's why she's still got her cherry." 

Larry turned to me. 

I couldn't keep my eyes, off his cock. 

The thing was throbbing. 

I stared at the thick blue veins that were running down the side of the 
shaft, and I could see the pulse in them, pumping more and more blood to 
him. 

He smiled at me, a smile that had no warmth in it at all. 

"Why don't you roll over on your side, darling?" he suggested. 

I did as he asked, not knowing what was going to happen to me. 

Chuck was bouncing around beside Larry, and I saw Larry look at him a couple 
of times with a disgusted look. "Calm down, Chuck," he said once. "Have a 
little class, will you?" 

He climbed onto the bed. 

I could feel the springs sag from the weight of the three of us. 

He ran his hand roughly up through my slit, and I could feel his calloused 
fingers scraping over the bud of my clit, sending a different kind of shiver 
through my body as he did so. 

"OH!" I cried out. "That hurt." 

"Shut up, honey," he said, sounding real mean. 

"Hey, come on, bud," Rhonda said to him. "I said take it easy." 

He completely ignored her, and instead rammed his fingers up against the 
outside of my pussy once more. 

At the same time, I could feel Chuck's hands starting to spread apart the 
cheeks of my ass. 

I started to get scared. Real scared. 

"Listen ... I've changed my mind. I don't like this. One of you ... maybe 
... but not two at once." 

"Look, honey," said Larry, staring at me. He fell silent, staring all the 
harder at my face. Then his eyes roamed down to my tits, and down to my 
cunt, and he then looked over at Chuck and said hold back, you hear?" 

"NO! I don't fucking hear, you asshole. I'm getting sick and tired of you--" 

"CHUCK!" 

"Yeah, right. Sure. Whatever you say." 

Larry looked back at me and said, "Better?" 

I closed my eyes, trying to fight down the fear that would not be beaten 
back. 

I felt his hands on my face. 

"Hey ... come on ... I'm not going to hurt you. Aw, look, I'm just a fun 
loving guy, and maybe I get a little carried away once in a while ... but 
I'm not going to hurt you for anything ... you have to believe that." 

"Yeah?" I said, not believing it, not at all." 

"Yeah ... sure ... you just calm down ... relax." 

I looked up at Rhonda, and she was giving me a real hard look herself. I 
knew that if I blew this, I'd blow it for all three of us, and then in 
addition, I wasn't sure these clowns wouldn't get violent or something even 
sicker, which I didn't feel like thinking about. 

I looked back at Larry, and Rhonda got onto the bed with us, wrapping her 
hands around his body. 

"Hey, sugar, you don't have to worry about us," she said to him. "We'll take 
good care of you ... of both of you. Won't we?" 

She was looking at me. 

"Yeah ... sure. You know ... we will." 

I just wanted to go home. The booze was starting to wear off now, and I 
couldn't imagine how I'd talked myself into thinking that this would be fun. 

"Grab my cock," said Larry. 

I looked down between his legs, and damned if the thing didn't look like it 
was even thicker. More than ever. 

I couldn't keep my eyes off it., "even though the sight of it filled me full 
of revulsion, I couldn't help wanting to reach out, touch it ... play with 
it.... 

It was hard. Harder than I would have believed. 

"My God...." I muttered. 

"Hey ... you like that thing, don't you sweetheart?" 

I didn't say anything back to Mm, but I did let my fingers wrap around it 
... and then, against every instinct in my body, I started to squeeze it. 

And I really began to squeeze it. 

I think I was subconsciously trying to hurt him ... but that was silly, of 
course. I couldn't have done any damage to him, no matter how hard I tried. 

But the effort felt good,, to me, and apparently, to him. 

His hips began to rotate, and I could feel the muscle at the very base of 
the hard organ going into small, fluttering spasms ... and every one seemed 
to send him further and further into a fit of ecstasy. 

"Oh, yeah, darling, that's great. That's really great. I love it. I really 
love it." 

I squeezed harder and harder, and then, I could feel Rhonda's hands reaching 
around his body, reaching down to my hands that were gripping his cock. 

"Stroke him," she said to me. "Lightly. Like this." 

She pried my fingers off of his cock (for they were gripping him so tightly 
that I didn't feel like I could let go of him) and she formed a ring out of 
her thumb and her forefinger. 

"Like this," she explained, circling the flared base of his glans, moving 
the ring of her fingers back and forth. 

"Make it just large enough so that the surface touches it every time you 
pass." 

I watched, and then I tried it myself. 

I made sure that I kept the pressure light, and Larry's hips shot upwards 
again, this time with more force than ever. 

He sucked in a huge breath of air, and said "Oh yeah ... yeah ... yeah ... 
yeah...." 

I was surprised, by two things. One, I was surprised that he would act that 
way ... that he would get aroused, and act like he was going out of his 
mind. I knew that girls were supposed to do that, but I didn't know about 
greatly surprised me was the feeling of power that I got, touching him, 
watching him going out of his mind. 

It was me doing that. I was driving him crazy ... and I was enjoying it. 

"Now," I heard Rhonda whisper in my ear. I knew that the moment was here. I 
couldn't avoid it any longer. 

But you know what, doctor, I didn't want to put it off any more. 

I wanted to feel it. 

I rolled over onto my back, and once more felt his eyes as they moved up and 
down over my body. 

He was breathing heavily ... he was acting like he was already half out of 
his mind. 

Did I do that I wondered to myself. Did I make him crazy like that? 

He positioned himself between my legs. 

I spread them open, wider ... wider ... as wide as I could make them go. His 
fingers raked through my cunt again, and I felt my skin tremble as he did 
so. 

And the, as I watched, trembling, he took his cock in his hand and placed it 
at the opening to my cunt. 

He started to push. 

I closed my eyes, gritted my teeth, and felt the pressure rapidly move from 
hard, to intense, to painful, to excruciatingly painful. 

He never let up. 

It was one unbroken thrust, slow, drawn out, but unbroken. 

He continued to press his cock against me. 

"Oh...." I gasped, "easy. Please. Go easy." 

He kept shoving it ... never pulling back, never giving me a chance to get 
used to it. Simply shoving ahead like he was a machine that couldn't be 
turned off. 

"OH!" I cried out. "Stop a minute ... please!" 

He slowed down a little. 

"Just take it easy a minute ... give me a chance ... please...." 

But he started to shove again. 

I couldn't stand it. The pain was hot now ... getting hotter and hotter all 
the time. 

I could feel my hole stretching ... I could feel the membranes opening to a 
degree that they'd never done before ... I could feel my body being entered, 
being violated ... and I loved it. It was delicious. 

It was the most fantastic thing that I'd ever felt. I never wanted it to 
end. 

I couldn't stand for it to continue. 

I was in pain ... I was in the middle of the most exciting thing that had 
ever happened to me. 

My brain couldn't deal with it all. I hated him and loved the feeling at the 
very same time. I was confused, I was frightened ... I was crying out "NOOOO 
NNOOOOOOO NO NO NO NO NO NO!!!!'" 

But all the while, I was shoving my hips now up against his cock. 

I was shuddering from the force of his cock, shuddering from the pain that 
it was causing me. 

And then, the ultimate pain shook my body. 

He had me ... it was time ... I was there ... he was ramming his cock right 
up against the membrane ... my cherry ... he was going to slam through ... 
pop it ... rip me open. 

"OHHHHH!!!" I cried out, suddenly wishing I could change my mind, knowing 
that I never could go back. 

He pressed forward. 

The juices from my cunt were splashing all over his cock now. 

I was crying, harder than before ... crying out in extreme pain. 

He pressed harder against me. He gave his hips a couple of hard shoves. 

I felt the sharp bursts of pain that accompanied each one as if they were 
the ripping sensation of my cherry ... but it was a false alarm. He hadn't 
succeeded yet in tearing me open. 

"Oh ... oh ... oh ... oh ... oh ... oh ... oh ... oh...." I cried. "I can't 
stand it I can't I can't I can't I can't." 

I was squirming wildly beneath him ... and I couldn't make myself stop. But 
it wasn't just from pain. 

I knew that then, and I know it for certain now. 

There was a lot more going on. 

I was feeling a violent seizure of such power and raw force, I wassafraid 
that it was going to tear me wide open. 

And then, he was in ... I felt it. It was a rip. Like thin paper tearing. I 
felt it all through my body ... and the pain was every bit as hot and sharp 
as I'd been afraid it would be." 

"Oh God ... oh God ... oh GOOOOOOODDDDD!!" I screamed, my entire body 
shaking now from the pain. 

There was no way he couldn't have known that he'd made it in. 

"YAHOOOO!!!" he cried out. Another virgin popped. 

And then, without even pausing, and rolled over on his back, his legs 
wrapped around me, so that I was on top of him now, his cock still buried 
deep inside me. 

"All right, Chuck, there it is, a sweet ass all for you." 

"Nooooo!!" I cried ... but he had me too tightly. I looked around .panic 
stricken, but Rhonda was just watching me ... impassive ... and I knew that 
she wasn't going to help me. The bitch. 

Chuck wasted no time, climbed right up on top of me, and stuck his cock 
against my asshole. 

Tight as my cunt was, at least it was designed with a cock in mind. Not so, 
my ass. 

I couldn't believe it. From the very first seconds, I knew that I was going 
to be in bad pain. 

I knew that there wasn't anything that was going to make it feel better. 

He started to push, and he was even more rough than Larry had been, shoving 
his cock so hard that I was afraid that even if he wasn't right on the hole, 
he'd just go ahead and punch another on in me.... 

He shoved and shoved, and finally, not having any luck, he said to Rhonda, 
"You ... sweetheart. Get over here and grease this mess up." 

He pointed to both his cock and my asshole (there was a large mirror on the 
wall for me to see him) and I could feel the bed sag even further as Rhonda 
crawled onto it. 

Then, he turned to Myra and said to her, "I'd sure love to feel that sweet 
tongue of yours all over my ass, darling." 

She complied with him, right away. 

Rhonda licked my asshole first, and then she licked his cock, and then she 
licked my asshole again, and then, she dropped a large blob of spit onto the 
tight brown ring of muscle, rubbed it inside me with her fingers and 
returned to his cock once more. 

"Mmmmmmmmmm...." I could hear him saying. 

Larry moved his cock inside my tight cunt now, and I realized that he hadn't 
moved it in me before this. 

"OH!" I said, not really feeling pain from his cock, but more or less just 
surprised to feel it. 

He started to move it in and out of me now ... taking nice, long strokes, 
never wavering in his purpose. 

"Oh ... oh ... oh ... oh ... oh ... oh...." I gasped with every stroke. "I 
love it. I love it." 

I shocked myself when I realized what I was saying. 

I really was enjoying it. 

Even after Rhonda had slicked up Chuck's cock real good, and he'd started to 
shove it into me, I was still feeling the intense sensations of pleasure 
mixed in with the pain ... so much so, in fact, that I was pretty certain 
that I wasn't able to tell the two apart any more. 

I was so filled that I'd stopped feeling like I was a normal person. It was 
more than I could put up with. More than I could tolerate ... yet, somehow, 
I did tolerate it. 

I felt them come ... I felt warm jets of jism shooting into my body ... both 
into my ass and my cunt.... 

I felt the stuff dripping all over me ... running down my thighs ... oozing 
out my cunt lips. 

It was warm, sticky, and felt, somehow, normal ... natural ... like that's 
what was supposed to be. 

I didn't sleep well that night, doctor. I was too charged up from the 
experience. It was amazing. I don't know if I can say that the entire thing 
was enjoyable ... there was an awful lot of fear, and pain involved ... but 
I made the two hundred bucks that I'd been promised, and I wasn't even mad 
at Rhonda. 

 CONCLUSION 

Jenny Sue is fortunate that her first experience worked out to be enjoyable, 
so that she received no scars from the sensation. She is not like many 
girls. It could very easily have turned into a sour experience for her, one 
that would have left her afraid of sex for years to come. For example, 
witness the next case history. 

 CASE HISTORY TWO 

SUBJECT: Marsha AGE: Twenty 

INTERVIEW ONE 

Marsha came to me with a severe problem, a complete inability to obtain any 
satisfaction from the sexual act, no matter what form it took. 

At first glance, one would think that such a problem would call for her case 
to be included in a study on disfunction ... frigidity, or some other 
related phenomenon, and indeed, that was my first assumption when I talked 
to her ... that whatever the cause, she was blocking her natural instinct to 
become aroused, and that the course of treatment would naturally take the j 
form of some sort of behavior modification. 

We are learning more and more that the old preoccupation with the root 
causes is not nearly as important and crucial as was once thought. Quite 
often, it doesn't-matter what has cause the problem so much as the problem 
itself. In other words, the significant thing isn't the original event ... 
it's that the person has, because of that event, been influenced toward a 
certain form of behavior, and therefore, all that is really called for is to 
first erase the behavior tapes in their brain, and reprogram them with a 
different pattern of response. 

However, once I talked a while with Marsha, I realize that she was indeed an 
exception to this approach. Her story ... well, perhaps the best course 
would be to switch to her own version, in her own words. 

Well, doctor, it's like I was telling you, I just can't stand the thought of 
someone touching me ... a man, that is. And Bobby isn't any different, just 
because he's my husband. Lord, I get almost sick thinking about it. I 
remember the nightmare when we got married. I loved him ... truly I did. And 
I wasn't a virgin, but he didn't try to make any moves or anything on me, 
and I figured that he was just a polite kind of person and all ... and ... 
well ... the truth is, it was just a whole lot easier to not bother thinking 
about what was going to happen when he came to me for ... you know ... his 
'rights' as my husband. 

I mean, I knew it was going to happen ... I just didn't have any idea what 
it was going to be like. And I didn't want to know. 

I'd never made love to a man, you see ... I didn't know how. But yet, I 
wasn't a virgin when I got married. 

Does that sound strange to you? Well, doctor, it should. It sounds pretty 
strange to me too. 

You see ... I was raped. 

Horribly. 

But that's not the worst of it. I read the papers. 

I know what kind of world we live in. 

I know that hundreds of women get raped every day. I'm not so special, am I? 

Well ... yes. I think I am ... but I didn't even start to think about this 
until you started to talk about it yesterday, doctor ... and it's still real 
hard for me to deal with it ... I'm almost afraid to say it.... 

I was raped by my daddy. 

Yes ... that's it! That's the truth, the terrible truth. Oh God ... it makes 
me feel so dirty to say it. I know ... it's not my fault, right? But that 
doesn't matter. It makes me different.... 

And I can't stop thinking about it ... but you know I didn't realize that I 
was still thinking about it. 

It's just lhat it's been such a part of me, and a part of the way I think 
about myself, I never thought that there could be anything strange about it 
... i thought that I'd gotten over it, just because the pain wasn't there 
any more. 

But you know what I think, doctor, I think that just because I can't feel 
the pain doesn't mean that it isn't there any more ... that's what I think. 

Oh ... God ... I'm starting to shake ... Doctor ... what's wrong with me? 
Why am I doing this ... oh, I feel cold ... I feel ... I ... can't go on ... 
I can't go on.... 

(Editor's Note: At this point, it was necessary for Dr. Lamb to administer a 
mild sedative to Marsha, one that also has a gentle hypnotic effect as well. 
When she resumed speaking, the direction of her comments was more focused, 
in the direction of the incident itself, but one cannot always rely on the 
patient's perceptions about the situation under the influence of a drug such 
as this. In other words, while the events are for the most part usually 
remembered with clarity, that patient's own attitude towards those events is 
transformed according to the effect of the drug itself). 

I guess I was fifteen ... no ... I take that back, I. was sixteen, because 
I'd already started to date Luther Jones ... that's right, and Luther didn't 
move to town until I was sixteen, and I know that because I remember that he 
wasn't there at my sixteenth birthday, and if I'd been dating him, I'd 
surely have invited him to my 'Sweet Sixteen' party, don't you think, 
doctor. After all ... that's supposed to be when a little girl starts to 
grow up, isn't it? And if you want a boy to know that you're all grown up, 
you shoudl invite him to your Sweet Sixteen' party. 

At the least. 

But I didn't invite Luther, which is why I know that I was sixteen when all 
this happened, because I remember very clearly the First day I ever set eyes 
on Luther Jones, and there wasn't a single moment after that that I wasn't 
thinking about him. 

That boy got underneath my skin right from the start, and he just never did 
get out from under it.... 

He was big, and strong, and he had a thick crop of curly blond hair on top 
of his head that I used to sit and dream about running my fingers through. 

His eyes were as blue as the sky, and he had teeth that looked like they'd 
been carved out of polished marble. I was wandering into study hall, fifth 
period, when I met him. 

Literally. We ran into each other. 

He just stopped, but I went sprawling. 

"You lunk!" I yelled, "why don't you watch where you're going?" 

He stared down at me, a frown crossing his face. 

"Oh ... I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. Are you all right?" 

He was so polite ... I couldn't believe it. 

That's when I realized that I'd never seen him here before. 

"Who are you?" I asked, already more curious to find out who he was than I 
was hurt or mad. 

He held out his hand and offered to help me up. 

I took it and felt how strong he was. I didn't know it then, but I was 
already hooked. 

He pulled me easily to my feet, and I stood there in the hallway, just sort 
of staring at him, feeling goofy, feeling silly, feeling awkward ... and 
feeling an itch spring up between my legs. 

He just had a sweet smile on his face, and he was looking all ... gosh, I 
don't know what to call it ... just real neat ... you know? 

Now ... you have to understand ... a sixteen year old girl raised in the 
country is usually two things. One, she's usually virgin. And two, she's 
usually very much aware of the facts of life. You sort of can't help it when 
you live in the country. You see dogs and pigs and sheep and cows fucking 
... and you see cats having kittens, and you sort of learn all about the 
facts of life without even having to ask a lot of questions. 

But you also have a daddy, like mine, who keeps a very close eye on what 
you're doing. 

I wasn't allowed to date or anything, and even on my birthday, Daddy said to 
me, "Don't go getting any fancy ideas about going out with boys, you hear?" 

"But Daddy, I'm a big girl now." 

"Damn straight, and I don't want you getting any bigger." 

My mother yelled, "Hiram! Don't you be making those smutty jokes around our 
little girl." 

"Hell woman," he said, looking like he'd just stepped out of the Old 
Testament, "you going around thinking she's just a baby is what's wrong. You 
should open your eyes, she's old enough to be getting ideas, you can just 
bet And she's going to go out and do something we'll all be sorry for, if 
you don't watch her more closely." 

"Hiram, you just stop that talk. If you can't trust our little girl, well, I 
just think that's too bad. I surely do. I think it's just too bad. I trust 
her to know what's right." 

And then Momma came in and she put her arms around me and said "Don't you 
bad-mouth my baby." 

Daddy scowled, as Daddy usually did and muttered something and walked 
outside for a walk. 

You know what, doc? I think my mother should have listened to my father. 

That was the conversation that I had on my mind at the same time that I felt 
that itch pop up between my legs. 

"Hey," said the blond boy. 

"Hello," I said, wondering what I'd do if I had to say anything else. I 
think 'hello' was the only word that I could remember. 

"Urn, here," he said, "let me help you." 

I said, "Huh? Help me...?" 

He was down on the ground, and then I realized that he was picking up all my 
books, which I'd dropped everywhere, and I hadn't even known it. 

He handed them back to me, and told me his name, and I told him mine, and 
that was all. 

We went into study hall, and I saw him handing his folder to the teacher and 
realized that the reason I'd never seen him before was mat this was his 
first day of school and he was just getting oriented. 

He was cute. I swear, I'd had silly crushes on boys before, but that was the 
first time I'd ever been really bitten. I mean, I was out of my head. 

I kept on feeling where I'd run into him, and I swear, it was tingling. 

I didn't think I'd ever wash it. 

He sat in the desk that the teacher gave him to sit in, and he seemed to 
forget all about me. 

I didn't forget about him, though, and I realized late that I hadn't even 
bothered to open a single book or do an ounce of homework, because I was 
staring at him the whole time. 

I suddenly got a stab of fear. 

What if there were other girls watching him too? What if he didn't remember 
me? 

What if ... what if.... 

I looked furtively around, like a cat with a freshly stolen fish, ready to 
extend my claws if anyone or anything came too close. 

But no one was paying much attention to him ... or to me either, and that 
suited me just fine. 

But then, he wasn't paying any attention to me either, and I swear, by the 
end of class, I was out of my head. 

I really wanted to talk to him again, but I didn't know what to say, and I 
didn't know how to approach him, and I was getting all upset with questions 
like what would I do if he didn't say anything to me? Well, the answer to 
that one was obvious. I'd simply keep a stoical outlook, and go home and 
slash my wrists, that's what I would do. I looked at the clock. Five minutes 
left till the end of the period. 

I noticed that people were starting to put away their materials, close their 
books, starting to make conversation, and still, he hadn't turned around. My 
God, I thought. Could he really be that engrossed in that stupid text book 
of his? Christ, what was he trying to do, make good grades or something? 

I was going out of my head, and then, all of a sudden, I noticed that he was 
slowly turning around ... very slowly, but his eyes were starting to move in 
my direction.... 

So what do you think I did? I looked down at the top of my desk, of course, 
hoping to God that he didn't see me staring at him. 

Christ! I thought. What would I do. I'd die from humiliation, that's what 
I'd do! I'd have to go home and slash my wrists, that's what I'd have to do! 

I stared down at the top of my desk, thinking to myself that the world was 
pretty cruel ... that it was unfair, and that there was no justice. Of 
course I couldn't look up. What would I do if he was still looking at me ... 
or worse, what would I do if he wasn't looking at me at all! My God ... that 
would be awful! I'd die of disappointment. That's what I'd do. I'd have to 
go home and slash my wrists.... 

Well ... what can I say ... it was a vicious cycle, and I couldn't control 
it ... so finally, when I figured that if he had been looking at me, he'd 
pretty much gotten the idea that I wasn't looking at him, I raised my eyes. 

And I dropped them again. Fast. They were back on the desk top again quick 
as if they'd been stones I'd let slip from my fingers. 

He was watching me! 

I couldn't believe it! 

What was I going to do?! 

I could feel my heart beating ... and I felt my face getting redder and 
redder, and then, I finally got up the courage to look at him again ... I 
mean, after all, why should I have been so embarrassed, right? He knew my 
name. 

For all I knew, I was the only person in school that he'd talked to that 
day. 

I guessed that I'd better look up at him again if I wanted him to talk to me 
again. 

Then, at that moment, the bell rang. 

I made up my mind. 

It was now or never. 

I was going to sink everything I had into one, final, all encompassing 
effort, and if it didn't work, if I came out looking silly, well, that was 
all right too, because I was just going to go right home and slash my 
wrists, that's what I was going to do. 

I looked up as I gathered my books, but he was already talking to some other 
people. 

Stan Freemont, the captain of the football team was talking to him ... most 
likely telling him to try out for the team.... 

That made me feel frightened. What would I do if he made the team and became 
real popular? He wouldn't need to ask me for a date because he'd have all 
those cheerleader types to date. 

My God ... I'm just listening to myself as I'm saying all this ... I was 
really in a messed up frame of mind. I mean, I was going fucking crazy, and 
I didn't even know this guy, and what was worse, the one course of action 
that would have guaranteed me a chance to get to know him seemed totally out 
of the question. To just walk up to him and be friendly. 

I walked up to him though, without the faintest idea of what I might do when 
and if he noticed me. 

I heard Stan giving him a hard sell on the team. 

"Yeah ... well, if you're interested, give it a shot, why don't you? I mean, 
it can't hurt, can it? And we could use big dude like you. And ... if you 
happen to be coordinated on top of it, so much the better." 

Luther was grinning, but he didn't have a farm-boy look to him. I wasn't 
sure what kind of look he had, but it wasn't a farm boy look, and it was a 
country bumpkin look, or anything like that. Even though his name was a real 
farm boy name. 

Then, he looked at me. Right at me. 

"Well, did you come over here to run into me again?" 

"No...." I said, feeling my cheeks starting to tingle again. 

"Well ... why don't you give me directions to my next class?" 

"Oh! Sure...." I said relieved that there was something to talk about. 

He held out the schedule mat they'd given him in the office, and as I was 
explaining how to get there, I noticed that he wasn't listening. He was 
staring at me. 

"You're not paying attention." 

"Oh ... you're wrong. You're so wrong. I am paying attention. And so were 
you." 

I jumped like I'd been shocked with a live wire. "What are you talking 
about?" 

"I could feel your eyes on me all during the class." 

He was smiling. I didn't like his confidence, not because I minded that he 
knew, but because I didn't there was anyway that he could have known. He 
hadn't looked at me all during the class ... I knew that for a fact. I got 
mad and said, "Well, aren't we being conceited." 

I guess I was trying to sound indignant, but it just made him laugh. 

"Why don't you let me give you a ride home from school this afternoon, and 
we can talk about it. How's that sound?" 

"No!" 

"Oh ... hey look, you have to change that style." 

"What are you talking about?" 

"You never say NO!" like that. What you say is something like "Maybe," or, 
"I'll have to see." 

"Oh ... I do, do I?" 

"Sure." 

"And why is that?" 

"You want to keep your options opened. That way, even if you really do mean 
no, you don't want to tip your hand. You can keep people strung along that 
way." 

"Why would I want to do that?" 

"Beats me. You're the one who was looking at me all through study hall." 

"I was not!" 

"Oh?" 

He sounded genuinely disappointed. "I guess you were looking at the radiator 
then. Not very romantic, if you ask me." 

"What are you talking about?" 

"Let me give you a ride home this afternoon, and we can talk about it." 

"NO!" 

"There you go again." 

"Luther...." 

"Well, at least you remembered my name." 

"Why shouldn't I?" 

"Beats me. You're the one who spent all class period ignoring me." 

"I was not!" 

"HA! Got you! I knew you were looking at me." 

"I was ... not ... I mean...." 

I started to feel funny, flustered, angry, sad ... confused.... 

That's what it was. I was just confused. There were a lot of things going 
through my head ... a lot of things that I didn't understand ... a lot of 
things that I couldn't explain.... 

But somehow, it all wound up the way I knew it would ... because he was the 
one who was persistent enough to know that I was just giving him a load. 

That afternoon, I was in his car with him. 

I felt strange ... I'd never ridden with another boy in his car before, and 
I had all kinds oof paranoid visions about what it would be like. 

But face it. Riding in a car doesn't have a lot of variation to it. I mean, 
you sit ... you watch the road whizz past, you feel the wind rushing over 
your face.... 

There's not a lot of room for improvising. 

I told him where I lived, and gave him directions how to get there ... and 
then, I discovered what fear was really like. 

"Where are you going?" I asked him. That was my turn off." 

"I'll take you back there," he said. 

"No. You'll do it right now," I said after a moment, when he didn't slow 
down. 

"In a minute," he said. I want to see if there's something still out here." 

"What are you talking about?" 

I was starting to get really pissed off, and scared too. I realized that I 
still didn't know this guy, or anything about him. 

But he still seemed so harmless. Even now, when I was convinced that he was 
trying to kidnap me, I couldn't really get scared of him. It just didn't 
seem possible that he could hurt me ... or want to. I guess I was getting 
scared and angry out of habit. My Daddy had put so much fear in me, and 
filled me full of such terrible stories about what happens to girls who go 
astray, I couldn't even be objective about it. 

But, he did have me trapped. It was pretty easy to be objective about that 
at least. 

"Luther, where the hell are you taking me! And why are you doing it, and 
just what do you think you're going to tell the police when you get me back. 
Hmmmm?" 

"Oh ... Marsha, just stop. I want to check something out is all. My Daddy 
used to talk about this place ... and I wanted to see it for myself. He told 
me, "Son, if you ever go back there, and I swear, I hope you do because 
there ain't no prettier place on God's earth, you just ride on out Road 56 
and turn off where it says Dog Lake Tower, and follow it on down to the 
lake." That's what he told me, and now that you've gone and gotten me on 
Road 56, I can't see passing it up. According to him, it's a right pretty 
place." 

"Oh," I said, not knowing if I should be touched or angry. "Your daddy lived 
around here?" 

"When he was a boy he did. Not any more. He's dead," 

"Oh. I'm sorry." 

"It's all right. I guess it wasn't your fault" 

"Well I guess not What brings you back here?" 

"First time for me. Back for my mom. She lived here too. Married my Dad 
here. Then they left." 

"Oh." 

That explained why he had a good country name, but he didn't seem country. 

"Am I getting close to the road?" he asked. 

"Well, I couldn't find it in me to mistrust him, so I said "Yeah ... it's 
right up here." 

We turned down it, and pretty soon, we was parked by the shore of what has 
to be the most beautiful lake in the world. 

It's sort of set down at the bottom of a huge bowl ... it looked like one of 
those Indian bowls, you know ... with a lot of layers ... each one a 
different color. 

At the bottom was the lake itself, which was always bright blue. 

And then, all around the edge, the grasses were a brilliant green. 

Then, just beyond the grasses a layer of dried grasses was waving in the 
breeze, a nice warm tan color. 

Then there was the sand, white as pearl, and running around the edge of the 
sand was a rim of the weirdest shaped trees you ever saw. I don't know what 
they were, but they were all dead, and they were bent and twisted like 
they'd been melted over a period of a few thousand years. 

And then there was the woods itself, all thick and green. 

There wasn't a sound, except the wind, and a duck now and then flying over 
the water, some crows in the background.... 

It was the most peaceful place I'd ever been at. And now ... all of a 
sudden, it felt so perfect to be here with him ... and I felt like I'd 
always known him ... and it felt wonderful. 

"You know," said Luther, "My Daddy was right ... but he didn't know half of 
it." 

"What do you mean?" I asked. 

"He couldn't have had any idea how much more beautiful this place could be 
with you sitting next to me." 

Well, I hope to tell you that was the prettiest thing that anybody had ever 
said to me ... absolutely, and I don't think I can think of a single thing 
that would have been more appropriate, sent me further, or made me melt 
faster. 

He looked at me, and then he started to laugh. 

"What's so damned funny?" I asked. 

"Nothing. But I guess that surprised you ... what I said a moment ago, huh?" 

"Why do you say that?" 

"Well, you were sitting there with your mouth hanging open ... you know ... 
it did sort of look like you were surprised." 

"Oh...." I said, feeling silly again. He'd been doing that all day, making 
me feel silly, and then making me feel good, and then making me feel silly 
again. 

He was still looking at me ... real hard now. 

I was kind of feeling faint. Scared. Feeling funny in my stomach ... I 
didn't know what was going on ... or what he was about to do ... but I knew 
one thing ... whatever he wanted to do was all right by me. That's just how 
I felt about it. 

He reached for me, put his arm around my neck, and started to pull me.... 

I felt him moving me closer to him on the seat ... it felt almost like I was 
floating ... like I wasn't making the decision at all ... like I wasn't 
responsible.... 

"STOP!" I said suddenly. "What are you doing?" 

"What feels right." 

It felt right to me too, but I didn't know how to just admit it and go with 
it. I had to make a big scene about it. 

"You take your hand off me! Don't you ever do that again!!" 

"Are you sure about that?" 

"Stop that!" I said as he grinned and reached for me again. 

"Oh ... cut it out Marsha. You feel the same way as I do." 

"Stop this, Luther. Take me home." 

"You cut it out. You're playing a game, and you know it!" 

"What are you saying!" 

"Why else would you have been staring at me all through study hall?" "I 
wasn't!" 

"You were." 

"Was NOT!" 

"I saw you!" 

"That's a lie! You never looked at me once!" 

I realized what I'd just said and slammed my hands over my mouth. He was 
laughing as he said "Didn't have to. I could see you just fine in the 
reflection from the window." 

"WHAT! Oh! You're terrible! I hate you! Take me home. Take me home right 
now!!" 

He was still laughing, and I just got so enraged, I couldn't control myself 
anymore. I lunged across the seat at him, started to pound him with my fists 
(great lot of good that did) and felt emotions running like hot syrup inside 
me. 

"I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you...." I 
shouted at him, which only made him laugh all the more. 

"Stop laughing at me!" I screamed. 

"All right," he said, wrapping his arms , around me. I realized that I'd let 
myself be trapped, and that there wasn't anything that I was going to be 
able to do about it. He started to pull me even closer to him, and I felt 
myself resist for a moment, but then his hands were touching my body ... 
pressing into my shoulder blades, pressing my face, toward his.... 

I felt like I was going to faint. 

I couldn't believe that I felt so light headed. My heart was pounding in my 
breast, and I thought that surely it would send a little blood up to my 
brain, but things just began getting dizzy. 

And then, he kissed me. And I froze. 

And then I kissed him back. 

Oh ... Doctor ... it was so delicious ... it was so wonderful ... so 
beautiful.... 

I felt his strong body against mine, felt his hands on my breasts ... felt 
his tongue licking lightly over my lips. 

And then, he was unbuttoning my buttons, and a voice from somewhere inside 
my head was saying "NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO" but there was a louder voice 
between my legs saying "COME ON COME ON COME ON COME ON AND QUIT WASTING 
TIME, FOR GOD'S SAKE!!!" 

He pressed his palms against my breasts. 

"My Lord ... you really know what you're doing, don't you?" 

He didn't say anything. He just smiled. And then, he was touching my tits 
... playing with my nipples ... playing all over my body.... 

Oh, God, how I wanted it. I'd never really thought too much about sex 
before, but now ... I knew that I'd really been thinking about it for years, 
I just hadn't known how to admit it to myself. 

I wanted it more than I could imagine ... more than I knew how to control 
... I wanted it so bad I could taste it in my mouth.... 

His fingers were moving down to my dress now ... and I felt the tips on my 
thighs ... I felt him stroking me ... moving his fingers closer and closer 
with every movement to my cunt.. 

I was hot now. 

I could feel sensations in there that I'd never felt that strongly before. 

It was delicious. It was wonderful. It was scarey. But it was something that 
I wasn't about to stop. 

"Oh ... oh ... oh...." I moaned as he touched my breasts with his tongue. 

I felt him licking them, making the nipples hard ... harder ... harder.... 

And at the same time, he was moving his fingers along the outside of my 
panties, touching his hand right over the wet running slit beneath.... 

I'd felt that slit many times myself ... I knew what it could do ... I knew 
what was buried there.... 

But I'd never felt anything like this. This was the most intense feeling 
that I'd ever gone through in my life. 

I never wanted it to end. 

He was pressing against my cunt now ... pressing hard with the tips of his 
fingers, working some of the material up into the slit. 

I couldn't believe how good it felt. 

I was dreaming, I thought, but then, I knew that it was real ... he was 
really touching me ... he was really shoving my panties up into my cunt. 

He was really rubbing the tips of his fingers over my clitoris ... he was 
really doing everything to me that my daddy had always warned me about ... 
and I didn't even think one second about anything my daddy had ever said to 
me ... or warned me about. 

I just wanted it to continue. 

So did he, judging by the look on his face. 

He was staring down at my body now, and I realized for the first time ( I 
mean, really understood) that I was naked in front of him ... and it felt so 
right, I couldn't hardly stand it I'd never done anything like this before 
in my entire life, and every second that passed was like an entirely new 
world. 

He started to pull my panties down my legs. 

I didn't fight him ... I didn't resist. I didn't try to talk him out of it. 
Maybe, if I'd thought about any of those things, I might have tried them. 

Trouble was, I just didn't think about any of them. I just didn't think 
about it. 

What I was thinking about was the huge bulge between his legs and what was 
causing it. 

I wanted to see it. 

"Take your pants off." 

"Yeah ... listen to you," he said. "You were telling me to take you home, 
just a few minutes ago. Now, you're telling me to take my pants off. I'll 
tell you what. Why don't I take my pants off ... and then I'll take you 
home." 

"Oh ... yeah ... my Daddy would just love that." 

He said no more. 

I watched his pants slowly drop down his waist, over his hips ... down his 
sturdy thighs, and then, I saw it. 

He was wearing jockey shorts, but it didn't matter. He was hard and stiff, 
and swollen so big that he couldn't keep it in his pants. 

I was looking at the mushroom shaped head, and I couldn't keep my eyes off 
it. It was the most wondrous thing I'd ever seen. 

"My God ... how do you walk around with something that big," I said. 

He laughed. 

"It's only this big when someone like you gets close to it." 

"Really?" 

I swear, Doctor, I'd never known what an erection was before that day. I 
mean, I knew ... sort of ... but I'd never talked much about it ... or 
talked to anyone who knew anything about it I'd never really known how a 
cock looked when it was stiff. 

I sure found out. 

He laid me down on the seat. 

"Oh ... Luther ... no...." I said, voicing my first note of resistence. 

"Are you sure?" he asked, his eyes so deadly serious and determined that I 
was frightened. 

"Oh ... no ... of course not. I don't know what I'm doing. I'm not sure of 
anything. Really, I'm not." 

He smiled. 

"I am. Trust me." 

"No ... I can't just do that, Luther...." I said. 

He reached for my hand and wrapped the fingers around his cock. 

"Touch that," he said. "What's it feel like?" 

"It's ... gosh ... I don't know ... it's like nothing I've ever touched 
before." 

"Exactly. And so is everything else that we're getting ready to do. You've 
never been here before. It's going to seem strange, and frightening. But 
you'll get over it. I promise you. You don't know what you're passing up." 

"But ... but ... I ... oh Luther ... don't hate me. Please, say you won't 
hate me." 

He was staring at me, hard now. 

I felt his fingers back at my cunt ... tickling me ... a mad sensation of 
heat and pleasure whipping through me at every movement of his fingertips. 

"Oh ... God ... that's not fair," I protested. "Why not?" 

"Because you know how good it feels." 

"I don't. All I can do is watch you, to know." 

"Oh ... oh ... oh...." I gasped. "I can't ... I can't...." 

But I could, and I knew it. As I felt his fingers slipping up inside my 
pussy, stretching the rim of my hole, feeling the unbelievably delicious 
sensations that were pouring off the membranes of my cunt, I was going out 
of my mind. 

"Oh ... oh ... oh ... oh ... oh ... oh ... oh ... oh...." I gasped, over and 
over. "OH LUTHER!!! MY GOD!!! MY GOD MY GOD!!!" 

I hadn't ever felt that before. It was an orgasm ... not a real strong one, 
but one that went further than anything I'd ever been able to make my body 
feel. 

"Just be gentle with me, please," I begged, not even quite realizing that by 
saying that, I was giving in to him. 

"I will," he assured me. 

I watched his body rise up ... I watched him take hold of his cock, and I 
watched him move down toward my cunt.... 

I actually felt the head on my lips. 

He touched it to my clitoris ... and I started to shiver, the sensations 
were so wonderful. 

And then, he froze. 

I looked up at him. 

There was a funny kind of look on his face. 

"Luther...." I asked him ... until I realized that he was staring at 
something in particular. 

I looked around behind me ... following the path of his eyes. 

And that's when I saw the long, bluish tinted barrel of a shotgun sticking 
in through the window. 

I followed the barrel back to the stock Two withered but strong hands 
gripped the rifle tightly. 

They, as well as the shotgun, belonged to my father. He was aiming down the 
sight, and it was aiming right at Luther. Not his eyes. Or his heart. But 
his cock. 

"Don't go no further, boy," he said. "Of course, if you make me, I'll blow 
her cunt off when I shoot your balls. But that would be a mean thing for you 
to make me do, and I kind of hope you don't do it. But ... you might." 

I fainted. 

 INTERVIEW TWO 

I woke up in a windstorm. 

It was a powerful wind too ... I could hear things slamming against the side 
of the house ... and ... and ... no ... it's not a windstorm ... it's still 
out by the lake ... and daddy ... he's hitting on me ... I couldn't make him 
stop ... "Daddy! Stop!!! Stop!!!" 

Oh lord ... he's going to kill me. He won't stop. Please ... please, lord, 
make him stop. 

Then, I feel his hands around my tits ... he's squeezing them hard ... and 
then he's slapping them again ... he's squeezing them ... he's slapping 
them.... 

He hit me in the face. 

I snapped completely out of my faint with that. 

"OH!!!" I screamed. "Stop it!!! Stop this!!! You're going to kill me." 

"Yeah, most likely," he said. "Now ... get the fuck out of the car." 

I crawled out of the front seat, noticing that both the doors were opened. 

I didn't know how long I'd been out, and I noticed something else. 

I didn't see Luther. 

"What have you done with him! What have you done with him!" 

"You just shush now, you little brat. You're going to find out everything 
you want to know ... damn you. Everything." 

"Where is he?" I asked, starting to cry now. "You've killed him ... haven't 
you?" 

"Well ... what the fuck if I have? It's only what he deserves. As a 
matter-of-fact, if I did kill him, it would be doing him a service, because 
he'd be dead a lot sooner than he should have been. Punks like that, you 
want to kill over a long period of time. You want to have their balls in 
your hands, and feel them crushing, before they die ... that's what you 
want." 

I smelled whiskey on his breath. 

"Daddy," I said, shocked. "You ain't never had a drink in your life. What is 
going on?" 

"NOW DON'T YOU START. Hell, women are all the same. You're just like your 
mother." 

"Daddy...." I said, wanting to talk to him ... wanting to get him to do 
anything besides start to hit on me again. That was the worst thing I'd ever 
experienced. I wasn't ever spanked, and I didn't want to get used to it. 

"You tell me what the hell I'm supposed to do, I'm going half out of my mind 
because my little girl didn't come home when she was supposed to, and then I 
get a phone call from Bert Taylor telling me he seen you driving down Dog 
Lake Tower Road with some stranger. Says to me "He ain't from around these 
part, I can tell you that, High. That's what he tells me. You know what I 
done? I started to cry ... That's what I done. And you want to know why? 
Because I thought my little girl was going to get killed. 

"Daddy, you yelled at Momma for saying I was a little girl." 

"Don't you fucking tell me what I do, you little whore!!!!! I'll tell you!!! 
You fucking were going to spread your legs for that bastard, weren't you?" 

"Daddy ... where is he ... what have you done with him?" 

Then, I saw him myself. 

He was beat up kind of bad, but other than that, he seemed to be alive. 
Daddy had tied him to a tree and stuffed a gag in his mouth. 

But I saw that his eyes were opened. 

He was looking at me ... and he was looking the most sorrowful look I'd ever 
seen. 

"So ... you're walking around with a pair of hot pants covering your ass, 
are you? So hot, you can't wait to get them off ... huh? That it?" 

"Daddy ... please ... please...." 

He slapped me again. 

It was hard, and he took his time doing it, too. He measured his distance, 
and calculated his speed. I could see it in his face. 

Then, he swung at me, and sent me sprawling.... 

He reached down and grabbed my hair and pulled me back up onto my feet. 

"Now little girl. You want to learn so much, I'll teach you. I say it's 
always best to keep these things in the family, don't you say? No sense in 
letting some asshole from out of town fuck you, not when you got your daddy 
here ... is there?" 

I was trembling. I couldn't believe this was really happening. 

"Daddy ... please ... don't do this ... please don't do this." 

He didn't give any indication that he'd heard me. 

He just slipped his hands underneath my arms and threw me over the hood of 
Luther's car. 

I landed with a loud bang on my back. 

"Honey, you don't know what you been missing. Hell, if I'd known you were so 
hot to trot, I'd have anyway ... if we can't help out our children?" 

There was a real sick look in his eyes. I started to cry real hard now. His 
face was all twisted out of shape, and I couldn't tell what the hell was 
happening inside his mind, but I suddenly got an image of rotting meat, and 
thought that came pretty close to describing what I was looking at. 

"Daddy...." I said again ... really crying hard now. "Don't do this. Please 
... don't do this." 

He slapped me on the face a couple more times. 

Then, he pulled his cock out of his pants. I have to say, I was stunned by 
the sight of it. 

Somehow, you just never think about your parents having cocks or cunts ... 
or anything like that. 

"Take a good look, daughter of mine," he said, leering at me. "Take a good 
look at your pappa's hose. We're going to use it on you, that's what we're 
going to do. We're going to clean you out with this hose ... we sure are." 

He reached forward and slipped his fingers into my cunt. 

"No ... Daddy ... no it hurts oh God it hurts so bad." 

"Of course it hurts, little girl. Of course it does. What did you expect. 
Pleasure to come free? No. Never! There's always a cost. That's where you 
went wrong. You tried to avoid the cost. But you never avoid it. There's 
always a price, and it must be paid. You're going to pay yours now, my 
dear." 

He was shaking ... though I couldn't tell what from ... most likely from the 
booze. I'd never heard him talking like this ... and even though I didn't 
smell all that much booze on his breath, it was still obvious that he was 
drunk out of his skull. He never drank, not that I knew about, anyway. And 
now, with a little bit of drink in him, he was acting completely crazy. 

"Daddy...." I said ... "won't you listen to me?" 

He fell on top of me. 

I felt the wind rushing out of my lungs, and I was having trouble breathing 
in any more to replace it 

"Oh ... oh ... oh ... oh ... oh ... oh ... oh ... oh...." I moaned, over and 
over and over.... 

"Shut up, girl. You're going to bring someone, and we can't have that, can 
we?" 

"Daddy, people are going to know. They're going to find out. But if you 
stop, I won't tell anyone. I promise." 

He turned a cold eye to me. 

"So, it's threatening me that you're up to now, is it?" 

"No ... honestly, Daddy...." 

He reached between my legs and grabbed a fistful of my cunt. 

"Don't you dare try to threaten your daddy again ... do you hear?" 

"Y-y-yes ... yes...." I stammered. 

He let go, but kept his fingers right there, pressing the tips now up into 
my slit. 

It was the same thing that Luther had done, actually, but it wasn't at all 
the same, not really. 

I felt that Luther cared. 

The only thing that Daddy wanted to do was to hurt me ... and he was doing a 
good job of it too. 

He started to push his cock against my cunt. 

And I couldn't stop him ... no matter how hard I tried. 

I was squirming real hard to get out from beneath him ... but there wasn't 
any way that I was going to manage that, and I could see that right away. 

He was pressing harder against my cunt, and also he had his body rolled in 
the perfect way to make sure that I didn't get away from him. He was pinning 
me with his body weight. 

"Oh ... let me go ... let me go ... let me go ... please ... let me go." 

"No ... I won't little girl ... not until I've made sure that you're all 
grown up, the way you want to be." 

"Oh ... stop ... stop...." I screamed. "You're; hurting me. You're too big. 
Oh God ... I can feel it ... you're too big ... too big ... don't do it any 
more ... please." 

I might as well have been talking to a wall, as trying to make contact with 
him. 

His cock was right up against my cunt no. 

I could feel the thing running over my wet membranes. 

His fingers were down there too. Maybe he needed to feel his way around. I 
mean, I figure that he and my mom fucked at least twice, because I was here, 
and so was my sister ... but hell ... you never knew. Maybe he hadn't gotten 
laid in so long that he didn't remember where everything was. 

Because it felt like what he was fumbling around for was my hole. 

And then, when he found it, he pressed his fingers further up into me, 
probing around. 

"Oh Lord...." he said wailing. "I'm too late. Someone's done got to her. 
Someone's done popped my little girl's cherry." 

"Daddy," I said. "No one's gotten to me. That's from using tampons. You know 
... for my periods...?" 

He slapped my face. 

"Don't be talking like that! Hell, girl. Ain't you got no sense of decency?" 

He pulled his fingers out of my cunt, but he made certain that he kept the 
tips of them in me, stretching my hole wide. And then, he guided his cock to 
the mark. 

I felt the head press in, and then, that felt like all there could ever be 
room for. But there was more. I could feel it coming. 

"Daddy ... no ... no ... you're going to rip me apart." 

"No chance of that, daughter. You just relax, and leave everything to me." 

"Daddy ... no ... no ... no ... no ... no ... no...." 

But he kept pressing onward. 

Further and further and further, pressing me apart. I felt like a tree was 
ramming up inside me.... 

I felt like a telephone pole was stretching me open ... I felt like I was 
going to be torn in half. 

I felt the thing down toward the bottom now ... the narrowest part of me. 

Nothing, not even my fingers had ever been buried this far in me. 

But that didn't bother him. 

He just press on, and I felt the tissues starting to stretch. 

But God, it hurt so bad. 

I think I was screaming ... long ... loud and hard ... but there wasn't 
anything that I could do besides that, that would make him stop. I was 
hoping that someone might be nearby, that they might come and help me. 

No one came. 

I don't know if they just didn't care ... or if they thought I was just 
playing ... although I must have been screaming for a long time. 

But no one stopped him. 

He rammed that cock of his all the way up inside me ... and it hurt every 
inch of the way too. 

I had forgotten all about Luther now ... all I could think about was that 
monstrous log between my legs. 

He was starting to move it in me now. 

He pulled out., and the friction was awful. I could feel it scraping every 
inch of the way as it went 

"Oh ... GOD!!" I screamed. "Stop ... stop ... stop ... stop...." 

"Girl ... you're going to have to stop yourself. "I'm tired of hearing 
this." 

"Leave me alone ... please, Daddy ... this hurts ... I'm bleeding ... stop 
... oh please stop." 

He pulled all the way out. 

I mean, his cock dropped right out from between my lips ... and then he put 
his fingers down there, set it up at my hole again, and once more shoved all 
the way into me. 

He didn't even make an effort to be gentle. 

It went the entire distance ... completely filling my cunt in one, mighty 
thrust. 

I gasped, my back arched, my mind went blank ... and I felt sensations of 
hot pain flooding my nerves.... 

Hot pain ... Filling me.... 

Surrounding me, like acrid smoke. I couldn't move.... 

And at the same time, my muscles, all going spastic, were unable to hold 
still. 

I was straining against a force that I couldn't overwhelm, not at all. I was 
powerless. 

I felt my strength slowly ebbing ... and I felt the friction in my cunt 
growing worse. 

In and out, in and out.... 

The only thing that saved me was that his balls were charged ... they were 
full ... and they were very rapidly emptying now.... 

His hips jerked wildly for a moment, and then, they were still. His cock was 
inside me, but it was quickly shrinking now. 

I lay there, dazed, confused ... frightened.... 

There wasn't anything that I could do about it As much as I might want to do 
so, I couldn't go back. There was no way to go back. It was done ... it was 
over.... 

I remember thinking ... is this what it feels like to not be a little girl 
any more? 

 CONCLUSION 

Marsha's trauma is not so obvious as one might think. My own initial 
diagnosis was to assume that her rape at the hands of her father left her so 
utterly scarred that she couldn't imagine ever undergoing any similar 
experience again. 

I was wrong ... and it took many weeks of therapy to uncover the truth. 

Her true nature is a submissive one. There were small clues in her initial 
telling of the story, in her reactions ... the way she allowed both Luther 
Jones and her father to completely control her. Her protests were all of the 
verbal variety, whereas, in the case of her father particularly, a well 
placed foot to the groin would have most likely freed her. 

The truth, too painful for her to deal with, is tha she didn't want to be 
freed. 

She enjoyed that rape ... and her husband, fully aware of her background, 
mistakenly thought that the way to over come it was to be gentle. To be 
polite. To be considerate. To be, in her eyes, a wimp. Well, let me tell you 
... I finally set that little bugger straight. 

"Tell me, son," I said to him one afternoon, once I was fairly certain of my 
diagnosis, "you ever tried a different approach?" 

"What do you mean?" 

"Well, I get the feeling you keep working with her...." 

"Well, of course I do. I mean, we're partners. We're a team." 

"Um hmmmm ... I see. Look, kid, I don't want to piss on your dream, but 
something's got to make it wet., you see what I'm saying?" 

He shook his head. 

"Son, some women don't want to have a partner. They want ... a father." 

"Huh?" 

"Look, the only time in her life that she's ever had sex, was ... with her 
father. I suggest you try his approach." 

"You're kidding? You're out of your mind!" 

"Could be ... but look at it this way. It worked for him." 

He thought about that a moment 

"Look, would I steer you wrong? I'm a psychologist, aren't I? Christ, what 
do you think you're paying me seventy bucks an hour for? I'm supposed to 
know this shit. Trust me." 

"Well...." 

"Use a belt You'll enjoy it and so will she.'." 

"Doctor ... I'm scandalized. 

"You're also hard just thinking about it' Quit being a hypocrite and go rape 
the bitch. Trust me. It's what she wants." 

"But what if it doesn't work?" 

"Then take two asprins and call me in the morning. It'll work." 

 CASE HISTORY THREE 

SUBJECT: Wendy AGE: Eighteen 

INTERVIEW ONE 

Wendy's story was one of the more interesting ones. It was also enjoyable, 
primarily because she enjoyed herself, and no one else got hurt in the 
process. This is in keeping with my own theories that the sex act does not 
need to be painful ... it can, in fact be a beautiful experience for all 
involved ... particularly when one of the partners is experiencing it for 
the first time. 

"Hey," said Peter Jackson in an urgent whisper. 

I knew he was talking to me, but Mr. Robeson was discussing a rather 
complicated proof of a geometric theorem at that moment, and I didn't want 
to miss it. I was having enough trouble in geometry as it was, and I didn't 
need to get further behind. 

But Peter Jackson is a persistent bastard, and he wasn't going to be put 
off, just because I was having trouble in geometry. 

"PSSSSST!!!" he said, loud enough for a couple of heads to turn. 

I glanced over at him, glaring at him. 

"Would you leave me alone!" I said, indignantly. 

"Hey, get off the high horse. I gotta talk to you." 

"Fine! Can't it wait?" 

Mr. Robeson cleared his throat. 

"Excuse me ... is there something more interesting back there, Wendy? 
Perhaps you and Peter would like to share it with the class." 

Peter, his perpetual smirk coming more prominently to the surface said "Nah, 
that's okay Mr. Robeson. We have agreed to wait until after class. So, like, 
you can go on with your discussion." 

"Mmm hmmm. I see. Wendy, why don't you go ahead and finish this proof for 
me." 

"I ... I ... I ... am in trouble," I said. The class laughed. Mr. Robeson 
didn't. 

"Yes, you are, Wendy. You are in bad trouble. I must say...." he said as he 
opened his grade book, "that your performance in my class has been 
remarkably undistinguished. Which ... to be fair, is no sin. But ... don't 
you think you could at least pretend to be interested?" 

"I'm sorry ... sir," I mumbled. 

"No she's not," Peter quipped. "She was just telling me the other day that 
she can't think of anything more worthless, unless it's maybe tits on a fish 
... or something like that." 

The class started to giggle now, and I saw Mr. Robeson's jaw clenching 
tight. 

He was pissed ... but fortunately, he was more pissed at Peter than at me. 

"Peter ... why don't you stick around after class. We have some things to 
talk about" 

"Well ... gosh, Mr. Robeson ... I didn't mean nothing ... you know?" 

"Peter, you never mean anything. You are the most meaningless human I've 
ever known." 

He was chewing gum. "Yeah? Really?" 

"Oh ... Peter ... don't tell me you're actually hurt by that." 

He shrugged. 

"Well ... you know ... yeah. Sure. I mean. I try." 

"Ah. Maybe that's the problem. Next time, try a different approach." 

"Like what." 

"Don't." 

"Don't what?" 

"Don't try, Peter. It's really not worth the effort." 

The class liked that. Peter was the class goon, and well liked, but he could 
be an asshole in the extreme. 

"Well," Mr. Robeson sighed, "why don't we continue with only those who care 
to hear. I might as well confess, this isn't going to be on the test 
tomorrow. So, If you want to stay, it's only because you have an interest in 
truly learning something. Otherwise, please, get the hell out of here." 

About a third of the class left. 

I stayed. 

Peter left. 

"I mean it," he whispered. "I have to talk to you." 

"Yeah ... sure, Peter. Get lost will you?" 

"It's important!" 

He slunked out, saluting Mr. Robeson as he left. 

"The rest of you can move up. It will save my voice." 

I took a seat next to Steve Tanner, a new guy who'd just moved here from New 
York. He was a lot different from the rest of us, but seemed to be a good 
kid. Sort of naive about a lot of things. Studied music. Classical. But had 
a good head. 

He looked up at me and smiled. 

I smiled back. 

I noticed that he was taking notes, but not about the geometry lesson. I 
gave him a knowing smile. Urn hmmmm, I was thinking. I'm not the only one 
who's bored. 

He glanced in the direction that I was watching, and then, hastily covered 
his notebook. 

"Hey, take it easy," I said, lightly, "I'm a kindred soul, remember? Or 
weren't you listening?" 

"Oh ... yeah ... I was." 

He smiled again, but seemed a little uncomfortable talking ... not 
uncomfortable ... but ... well, different. I don't know how else to explain 
it. 

The class ended soon enough, and I talked a little with Steve ... you know 
... small talk. How's he like school ... is he getting settled in ... how's 
he like Richfield ... why doesn't he go out for band since he's in music ... 
oh piano ... right ... not a very convenient instrument for the marching 
field.... 

A hell of a nice guy. He was a little quiet ... and a little different ... 
but a nice guy. 

"So look, you got a minute or what?" Peter hit me with as soon as I walked 
outside the class. 

"Peter, what's going on? Why all this secrecy?" 

"I noticed you were talking to that guy." 

"Who, Steve?" 

"Yeah ... Steve. What's the deal. You tight with him, or what?" 

"Peter, what's it mean to you?" 

"What do you mean what's it mean to me? What the hell kind of a question is 
that? I mean ... we're all kind of a family, you know? I mean, you and me 
and Biff and Floppsy and Buffy and Spud and Dino and the rest of them ... 
you know? I mean ... we been working on the paper staff for a long time now 
... and we're all pretty close, right?" 

"Well, I'm just wondering ... I seen you talking to him a couple other times 
too. Like ... are you two getting tight? Or what?" 

I sighed. 

"Peter ... why don't you just ask me out?" 

"Huh? What are you talking about?" 

"I'm just wondering why you come on with this phony big brother routine. I 
mean, if you want to ask me out ... just do it." 

"Aw ... hey ... look that's not it at all." 

"Oh. Well, I like you too dear, but I'm going to be late...." 

"Hey, Wendy, cool it a sec, would you? I mean, I got something to talk to 
you about, and it concerns that new guy." 

"You've already been talking about him, Peter. You haven't gone very far 
yet" 

"Well, I don't know what's going on with him ... but there's some strange 
shit happening, and I want to check into it. Which, you know, is why I was 
asking if you been getting tight with him or something." 

"What? I don't get it." 

"There's some funny shit happening." 

"What? Come on, out with it, Peter." 

"Let's go over to the office. Spud's there with Biff. They got something to 
show you." 

I sighed. 

"I really have another class." 

"Fine, I'll send a message that you'll be held up. You're on the paper 
staff. They understand." 

"Peter...." 

"Look, there's something weird going on, and I want to know what it is." 

"Peter, I was just talking to him. I don't see why you're getting so upset 
over a little thing like that ... particularly since you don't want to take 
me out." 

"I never said I didn't want to take you out It just never came up before is 
all." 

"All right. So why are you worrying that I'm getting friendly with Steve 
Tanner?" 

"Who says I'm worried? The fact is, if you're getting friendly with him, you 
might be in a very good spot." 

"Wait a minute ... what are you getting at?" 

"Will you just come in here a sec?" 

We were at the office of "The Quest" our school newspaper. I sighed. "Look, 
you've already gotten me in trouble with Mr. Robeson. If I get in 
trouble...." 

"Forget it. Robeson is just frustrated." 

"Oh ... you know that, do you?" , "Yeah ... I know that." 

"How do you know that?" 

"Because I watched him trying to put the move on Miss Freeman." 

"NO!" 

"Yeah." 

"You're kidding." 

"I just said I saw it What do you want me to do, piss my name on the 
sidewalk?" 

"Peter, you're disgusting." He opened the door. 

"Enter, would you and stop this stupid talk." 

"You started it Did you really see Robeson and Freeman playing around?" 

"I didn't say that" 

"You just said it" 

"I'm a journalist, and so are you, supposedly. Don't tell me I said 
something that I didn't say." 

"What did you say then?" 

"I said that I saw Robeson put the moves on Freeman. She didn't pick up on 
them." 

"Oh ... what did she do?" 

"You ever eaten live oysters?" 

"Yechh!! What's that have to do with it?" 

"Well, sometimes you squirt lemon on them first, and they sort of shrivel up 
... that's what Freeman did." 

Spud came out of the next room. 

"What about Freeman?" 

"She's got nice tits," said Peter. 

"I know that," said Spud, "but I'll bet you weren't talking to Wendy about 
that." 

"You're right. I was talking about Robeson pinching her on the ass." 

Spud chuckled. 

"You're kidding," I said. "He really pinched her on the ass?" 

"Wendy," said Peter iin a tired voice. "I been thrown out of a class today 
... I'm probably going to have to cut school tomorrow ... don't I have 
enough on my mind without you questioning the legitimacy of everything I 
say?" 

"I'm not." 

"See ... there's a perfect example. What ... do I bullshit you all the time 
so you don't trust me?" 

"All the time, Peter. I still think you should ask me out." 

"All right ... all right ... I'll ask you out. Will you fuck me." 

"Of course not. I'm a virgin, you know that." 

"So ... maybe that's why I don't ask you out." 

"So ... on top of being stupid and a pain in the ass, you're also a pig. 
Hmmm. Fascinating." 

Spud listened, calmly, grinning. 

"You two finished?" 

"I hope so," I said. "What the hell is this all about?" 

He opened a magazine. 

"You know what this is?" 

"Yeah," I said, annoyed. "It's a skin magazine. What's it to me?" 

"A good question. First off, in case you are wondering, it isn't mine. I got 
it out of my dad's closet." 

"I don't care where you got it. Why are you showing it to me?" 

"Well ... hang on and I'll tell you." 

He flipped through it. "See that?" 

I looked at it. "Yeah. I've seen them before. I'm a woman. I've got one. 
Remember?" 

"Not that, stupid. This." 

I looked to where he was pointing, but I couldn't see what he was talking 
about. 

"There's just a lot of writing. In fact, there's probably more writing there 
than the goons who buy the stupid thing are able to cope with." 

"Well, I'll admit that it's pictures like this one that give the publication 
it's special flavor," he said. 

"To say nothing of it's aroma," Peter interjected. 

"But," Spud continued, "what interested me was the byline." 

"Okay ... so?" 

It was a story by somebody named Richard Spack. 

"Wasn't he the guy that killed those nurses in Chicago?" 

"That's Speck, but the point is well taken. It sounds like a pseudonym to 
me." 

"I'll bite. So it's a pseudonym. So what? Why am I here, Spud?" 

He flipped to the front. 

"Because, like all such magazines of this ilk, pretending to respectability, 
they publish pictures of their authors in the front, as if to say, "See, 
we're good enough for these clowns to admit they wrote for us." 

He held the page in front of me. 

"Regardez-vous Monsieur Spack." 

I looked down at him. And I saw what they were getting at. 

"Wow ... that's amazing. It really looks like him." 

"It's more than a resemblance, dear. It is him." 

"How do you know?" 

"Because I have a reporter's intuition. There's more here than meets the 
eye. And I want to know about it." 

"Look, so what if it's him. Is it a crime to write for a magazine and get 
paid, which he probably did, and which is more than you, who also calls 
himself a writer, have ever managed." 

"Oh, oh, the lady cuts deep," said Spud. "I'll tell you why. One. If, as I 
am certain, Mister Steve Tanner, quiet new kid is in fact Richard Spack, 
then, we've got a story." 

"Why? What are you talking about?" 

"There's strange shit going on. Buffy saw him in the office about two weeks 
before he enrolled. It was a real innocent thing. She just walked into 
Lurch's inner sanctuary with the contract for the new copier, and got him to 
sign it. You know how Buffy is around Lurch when she thinks she's alone." 

"Yeah, I do." Lurch referred to Andy Leurchant (pronounced Lur-shant), 
reduced quickly to Lurch after the Addams Family butler. He had a lot of the 
social graces of his namesake as well. 

"Anyway," Spud continued, "this guy was in a heavy conference with Lurch, 
and they just sort of shut up, he signed the papers, and then sent her out." 

"So?" 

"So? Christ! What if he's a narc? What if he's a ringer?" 

"Is she sure that it's the same guy?" 

"As sure as Buffy can ever be about anything." 

"Uh hunh. Right." 

"Okay ... so he looked older when she saw him." 

"Correction, journalist. The person she saw looked older. There's a 
distinction there." 

"Right ... right. Look, you're not buying my premise, are you?" 

"Nope." 

"How about the fact that he's always taking notes?" 

"What?" 

"Sure. He's always dragging around this notebook, and he's always jotting 
things down in it" 

I remembered geometry class. "All right? What of it If he published a story, 
he's a writer. If he's a writer, he writes." 

"Yeah? Well how come when Peter asked him if he'd be interested in joining 
the staff, he said he didn't have any aptitude in writing? Huh? How about 
that?" 

"Look, in case you haven't noticed, mat story, if it is his ... which I'm 
not ready to stipulate, but if it is, it hasn't exactly been nominated for a 
Pulitzer. I admire a man who knows his limitations." 

"Wendy ... this guy is running a trip on us. I don't like it At all. I want 
to know what the story is. And I want you to find out. You're a reporter. 
We're a paper. Pete tells me you're getting friendly with him. I think you 
should continue." 

"Well, I'm certainly not going to get friendly with him just to placate you 
two." 

"Good. Get friendly with him because you like him. I don't care what your 
reasons are. You'll tell us if there's anything screwy. Right?" 

I didn't say anything. 

"Right?" 

I still didn't say anything. 

"Wendy ... if this guy's a narc, he's putting a lot of us ... you included, 
in a hot spot." 

"He's not a narc." 

"What makes you say that?" 

"I've seen him smoking a joint for one thing." 

"That's legal now. So's entrapment, after ABSCAM. Don't be a fool." 

"I'm not. And I'm not a traiter either. But I'm not going to be used." 

Spud patted my shoulder. 

"Wendy, I love you, you know that?" 

"Yeah ... I'll bet. Why don't you ask me out?" 

"What is this? You keep wanting us to ask you out. We're a family. We're 
tight. You don't go blowing a professional situation by letting romance 
enter into it." 

"Yeah ... just think. Miss Freeman isn't ever going to want to go into the 
teacher's lounge again, in case Robeson might be there." 

"Oh ... I can't imagine Miss Freeman giving that wimp a second thought," I 
said. 

"She might ... after I send her the pictures." 

"What!" 

Peter smiled. 

"Hey ... I'm a reporter." 

I wasn't real happy about the assignment, but, on second thought, I decided 
that it really did nothing more than give me likely a.k.a. Richard Spack. I 
didn't really buy Spud's theory that Steve was a narc. Spud is just paranoid 
on the one hand, and itching for a real hot story to get himself an in when 
he went up to college in another year. He would have loved to be known as a 
hard hitting journalist by the time he was a senior in high school. I 
thought he had a bad case of Woodward & Bernstein-ism myself, but I had to 
admit that the idea of a student having more to his past than met the eye 
was a little intriguing. You get real used to that kind of stuff in the 
movies, but you never expect to find it in your own school ... phony 
identities, aliases ... things like that. 

And now that I thought about it, I had to admit that he didn't act normal. 
He seemed ... I don't know how to put it., just different. Like maybe he was 
from another country or something.... 

He was sitting out by the student park, a shady area with tables and flowers 
and things like that that the student council put in a couple years ago. He 
was writing in his notebook. 

"What's you writing?" 

I startled him, and he reacted in almost the exact same way that he'd done 
in geometry class the day earlier. 

First, he smiled a real friendly smile. And then he quickly shut his 
notebook. 

"You write a lot," I said. "That's not all homework, is it?" 

"Yeah ... sure. Why not?" 

"Because ... I nust don't think it is." 

He was giving me a kind of serious stare. 

Then he smiled. "What do you think it is?" 

I shrugged. "You got me. I was just wondering, that's all. Say, listen, 
how'd you like to buy me dinner tonight?" 

He started to laugh. 

"Well ... I mean...." 

"Oh ... well, if you don't want to, I guess that would be cool." 

"No ... I mean ... that's not what I meant. I'd like to ... I mean ... 
what's the occasion?" 

I pulled out a stick of gum and handed him half. I shrugged again. "I don't 
know. That's usually a nice thing to do before you go to a movie." 

"Yeah ... it is. Is that what we're going to do?" 

"Maybe," I said, giving him a long look. 

He had a kind of bemused grin on his face. "You aren't too shy, are you?" 

"It doesn't pay to be." 

"Why do you say that?" 

"Because people type you ... you know. And I really hate to be typed." 

"And how are you typed?" 

"Sort of ... a friend." 

"A friend...?" 

"Yeah ... you know ... some girls are for taking out ... some girls are for 
being buddies with. So like, I've got all these neat buddies ... but no one 
ever takes me out. So, I'm going to stop being shy." 

"I see ... and why did you decide to practice on me?" 

"Don't you want me to?" 

"I didn't say that. Don't go putting words in my mouth. I was just 
wondering." 

"Because...." I pondered, wanting to sound convincing. "Because you're a 
senior and I'm a junior, and I figured that would make it easier." 

"Why?" 

"Well, you're also new, and so you don't know me as a buddy ... or as 
anything. So ... I figured that you'd be easier to bag." 

He started to laugh. "Is that what you really thought? You thought I would 
be easy to bag?" 

"Yeah ... sort of." 

"And was I?" 

"I don't know. You haven't said whether or not we're going out tonight." 

"Yeah ... I think we should go out tonight." 

"Great," I said, realizing that I hadn't been bullshitting him. I really had 
been getting tired of being pals with Peter and Spud and Biff and the other 
guys that I'd worked on the paper with. I mean, I'm no prude, but for some 
reason, there'd just never been any sparks between us. I was starting to get 
tired of it. I was starting to think that I might not be very appealing ... 
and suddenly, sitting there, talking to Steve, I realized that I wanted 
things to change. Maybe it was just something about him ... I couldn't be 
sure. He was so ... together. That's the word that occurred to me. Like he 
knew what to expect. The guys that I knew weren't like that at all. 

"Where'd you come from, Steve?" I asked. 

"New York ... why?" 

"Because, you seem different. We were talking about that the other day." 

His eyes got wide for a moment. 

"Who was talking about it?" 

"Oh ... just me, and Peter and Spud." 

"You were, huh? And what were you saying?" 

"That you seemed ... different." 

He smiled again, but not a real wide smile. He seemed to be thinking about 
something. 

He said, "So ... when am I supposed to pick you up tonight?" 

"I don't know ... I don't care." 

"You don't?" 

I shook my head. 

"My folks are gone for a few days. I'm home alone. You can come over 
whenever you want." 

"Oh...?" 

There was a look in his eyes that I couldn't mistake. 

"As a matter-of-fact, you could give me a ride home, if you wanted ... and 
just sort of stick around." 

"I ... well...." 

He looked uncomfortable. 

"Listen," he said ... "I'd like that ... but I don't know if that's such a 
good idea.. I mean...." 

"Nah ... it's cool. My folks aren't there ... trust me. I wouldn't tell you 
to come over if there was something wrong." 

He was thinking real hard, and then he said, "You win. I'm yours." 

"Oh ... well ... I don't know if I want that much." 

"Oh come on, you came after me and ran me to the ground. "That's not true." 

"Sure it is. I was peacefully reading ... and you came barging up to me and 
forced me to ask you out." 

"I didn't force you!" 

"You most certainly did, and I must say, it was extremely pleasant." 

"It was?" 

"Sure." 

I couldn't tell if he was putting me on or not. 

"Tell me what you write in that notebook." He stopped smiling. 

"That's private." 

"A diary, huh?" 

"Sort of." 

"I thought you told Spud that you couldn't write." 

He thought about that one a minute. "He told you mat, huh?" 

"Yeah." 

"Well ... I didn't want to get into a big discussion with him about it ... 
but I just don't think that I'd be good on the paper." 

"Why?" 

"Different style." 

"Oh ... really?" 

"Yeah." 

I wanted so bad to ask him if that had been his story in that magazine ... 
but decided to wait for a better moment. 

"YouVe got something on your mind, don't you Wendy?" 

"Yeah. I'm wondering what's going to happen when you come over today." 

He looked me over. 

"What would you like to happen?" 

I felt weird. I mean ... he'd never touched me ... I hardly knew anything 
more than his name ... but all of a sudden, everything had a double meaning. 
I mean, I was talking about fucking him ... and I didn't even realize how 
I'd gotten there, and we hadn't even mentioned sex ... or anything. But 
there was an awful lot of tension in the air ... and it wasn't anger ... it 
was something else. I kept hearing voices in my head saying that I should 
leave ... but I wasn't about to go ... I knew that even though I was scared 
... and I didn't even really know what I was doing ... I was going to follow 
this and see where it led ... no matter what happened. 

I decided not to press him any more about the notebook. There would be time 
enough for that.... 

We talked a little more, and then, I had to go to class, and we agreed to 
meet in the parking lot after school. 

"You're sure it's all right if I come over?" 

I felt funny inside. I guessed that it was showing on my face, because he 
was looking at me kind of funny. 

"Yeah ... it's all right. Unless you don't want to." 

"Hey ... I told you ... I'd love it...." 

But there was some uncertainty in his voice too. I didn't know exactly what 
I was doing, so I decided to say good-bye and save it for later. 

I spent the rest of the day in a weird kind of cloud. 

He was on my mind, of course, continually, but I couldn't quite get a grip 
on what it was, specifically that I was thinking about. 

There really was something weird about him ... not bad, you understand. I 
mean, I didn't feel my skin crawling or anything like that But it was pretty 
weird anyway. 

It was like being in an old Twilight Zone episode, where people are all the 
same, but you know they are different and you can't figure out how they've 
changed. 

He was waiting for me in the parking lot, right where he said he'd be. I was 
trying to get straight in my head just what I was trying to do. I'd told 
Peter and Spud that I'd try to get to know him ... and yet, I couldn't have 
cared less about either one of them right then. I want to get to know him, 
but not for their reasons. And even if they'd been right, or even 
half-right, I wouldn't have cared. I was doing this for me. 

Now. If I could only figure out what it was that I was doing. 

He was strangely quiet on the way to my house. I kept wondering if there was 
something wrong ... I guess because I'm used to guys who get real quiet when 
they're pissed off. But every time I asked him, I got the friendly smile 
that I was getting used to, and nothing but relaxed, casual vibes from him. 
He was just a different kind of dude. 

"Go ahead and pick out a record," I said to him, when we walked into the 
living room. 

"The stereo's in the den." 

I went into tthe kitchen and returned with a couple of beers that my dad had 
left in the ice-box. 

"So, what do you want to hear?" I said. "Well ... they all look about the 
same to me." 

"What are you talking about?" 

"I'm not really too familiar with New Wave." 

"Is that what I listen to?" 

"Yeah ... pretty much." 

"That's right ... you're a classical music person, aren't you?" 

"Well ... not really ... sort of a late sixties ... early seventies person." 

"You're kidding?" 

"No ... there's a lot of stuff today that I like, but I guess I'm still in 
the past for the most part." 

"Boy ... I'll say. You mean you've never heard the Carcinogenics?" He shook 
his head. "How about KATSKAN?" Again a shake of the head. "Sled?" 

"Sorry...." 

"How about "Slutboy Slime and the Mucous Membranes?" 

He laughed. "Yeah ... I've heard them. I'm not too fond of them though." 

"I give up. Who do you like?" 

"Oh ... the Beatles." 

"Well, sure. I mean ... who doesn't. But they're not the last word in music, 
you know." 

"Well ... they're pretty definitive." 

"You're just an old timer. That's what's so strange about you." 

"What?" 

"You don't act like you should be in school." 

He frowned. "And how do I act then?" 

"Like you're older. I don't guess I ever really thought about it before ... 
but you act like you're older than me." 

"I am. I'm a senior." 

"No ... that's not what I mean. You act like you could be my big brother." 

"I do, huh?" 

"Who are you really?" 

"What are you talking about?" 

"Come on, Steve ... are you putting me on? Are you putting people on around 
here?" 

"Hey, look, Wendy, I don't know what's going on here, but if you just want 
to start playing a lot of games...." 

"I'm really getting under your skin, aren't I?" 

"What do you mean?" 

"Come off it, Steve. You're acting weird, and you don't want to admit it." 

"I'm acting weird? You're the one who's acting weird. Telling me I'm not who 
I am. Give me a break, will you? Look, I like different things than you do. 
I come from a different part of the country. What's it matter?" 

He kept making me uncomfortable, but not because of anything he was doing. I 
just kept on feeling silly around him ... feeling like a little girl. And 
now that I thought about it, I realized that was the heart of the problem 
that I'd been having, trying to figure him out. He just wasn't one of us. 
That's all. And I kept thinking about what Spud said. 

"Narc ... narc ... narc...." 

I could almost hear his voice in my head now. 

I decided to go for broke. "You want to get stoned?" 

"You smoke?" 

"Yeah. Sure." 

He produced a couple of thick joints. "Good. I was hoping you did." 

I hoped that it would calm my nerves down a little. The more I stayed with 
him, the more I realized that all my problems were centered right between my 
legs. And that too, suddenly made sense. I couldn't have tolerated the idea 
of losing my virginity to someone like Peter, or Spud. They were just ... 
boys. But Steve ... he was different And if he didn't want to talk about how 
he was different., that was fine with me. I'd figure it out later. I knew 
then that all I wanted was to get his hands on my body ... and that I'd 
really been wanting it for a good long time. 

We started to giggle ... and then I went over and sat next to him on the 
couch. 

"You want to hear some music, or what?" 

He smiled. 

"Whatever you want to put on." 

"Wow ... you'll trust me?" 

I pulled a record from the back of my stack ... one that my big sister had 
given me when she went away to college. 

The first crashing chords brought a smile to his lips. That familiar brass 
band ... the happy sounding lyrics ... "Roll up ... Roll up for the mystery 
tour...." 

"Well ... you have Beatles albums after all." 

"Well, of course, silly. I like music. You have to have Beatles if you like 
music." 

We looked at each other a moment more, and then, taking a deep breath, 
feeling self-conscious as hell, I looked down at his crotch. I guess I'd 
been hoping that I'd see a bulge there. 

I didn't. 

I looked back at him. 

He was smiling. "What are you looking at?" I started to squirm in the 
cushions, feeling like an awkward, gawky girl. "Nothing...." 

"Well, hey, you don't have to be insulting." 

I laughed and then he put his arms around me and gave me a gentle, long 
kiss. 

"Wow...." I said when he finally pulled back. 

"Wow...? Wow!? That's all you have to say." 

I looked up at him. "Check back when we get a little further along, okay?" 

And then, I leaned over and kissed him, this time getting up the courage to 
drop my hands down to his crotch. 

"Mmmmmmmm...." he said. "You sure you know what you're doing?" 

"Yes! I know what I'm doing." 

"You do, huh? You're not a virgin still?" 

I jerked upright. 

"What kind of question is that?" 

"Well ... I don't know what kind of question it is ... but it was kind of a 
compliment, really." 

"It was?" 

"Sure. You've got such an innocent air about you ... I can't imagine you 
being too experienced." 

I was feeling embarrassed, but the strange thing was that we were talking 
like this at all. 

I'd never have been able to have this conversation with anyone else in 
school ... any guy that is. 

"Yeah...." I said. "I'm a virgin." 

"Really...." 

There was a look of wonderment on his face. 

"Well ... you're the one who said it." 

"Yeah ... I know. But I guess I just never expected you to really be one." 

"Why?" 

"Well ... they're a vanishing breed, you know." 

I wrapped my arms around his neck, and with my knee, I started to rub his 
crotch. 

"How'd you like to diminish the numbers of an endangered species by one?" 

He was sort of letting my knee do all the work, while he just sat there 
feeling it happen. 

"Urn ... yeah ... I think I'd like that a whole lot" 

"You sure? You don't sound all that convinced." 

Suddenly, a horrifying thought struck me. 

"Steve ... you aren't gay, are you?" 

"What? What the hell gives you that idea?" 

"Nothing ... except that you don't sound all that excited about making love 
to me." 

"Look ... I'm not a fool. It's important when a girl makes love for the 
first time. I wouldn't want to do anything that would make you sorry ... you 
know? I just want to make certain that I'm up to the task." 

There was a growing hardness in his cock. 

"You feel like you're getting up to me." 

"Mmmmmmm, you're right," he said. 

I reached down, and unzipped his pants. 

His cock was rapidly getting stiffer and stiffer. 

"My God...." I said softly. "All that's going to go up inside me?" 

"I think it should ... without too much difficulty." 

"I don't know," I said. "I'm awfully tiny." 

"How do you know? You said that you were a virgin." 

"I am. But I know that I'm tiny." 

"How do you know? Have you tested it?" 

"That's a terrible thing to say." 

"It is?" 

I could see his eyes wandering down around my crotch, and it felt almost 
like the heat of his gaze was actually penetrating my shorts. I could feel 
the juices inside my body starting to steam and boil ... and there was an 
insatiable itch in my clitoris. 

"Oh ... you're just making fun of me." 

"Not hardly, dear. Not hardly." 

But he was still just looking at me. I wasn't sure what was wrong ... or if 
there was anything wrong. I still didn't know how to take him ... and I 
didn't know much of anything about fucking ... or about cocks.... 

I knew a little about my cunt ... but that still didn't prepare me very much 
for what was about to happen. 

He unzipped his pants ... pulled his cock out, and then, taking my hand in 
his, he slowly guided it down to the hard shaft. 

"My God...." I muttered softly again. "It's so hard. So huge." 

"Haven't you ever seen a cock before?" 

"Yeah ... well ... no. I mean ... well ... never like this." 

"You really haven't?" 

"You really don't believe me, do you?" 

"Yeah ... I believe you. It's just a little hard, that's all." 

"I squeezed his cock. "Honey, it feels more than a little hard." 

"Yeah? Well ... what about you?" 

"What about me?" 

I felt his fingers moving up my legs ... and suddenly there was a wave of 
sensation washing over me that wouldn't stop. 

I was starting to feel dizzy. 

"Oh ... oh ... oh my God...." 

"Wendy ... are you all right." 

"Yeah ... as long as you don't stop." 

He was hesitating anyway. 

"Are you sure. I mean ... you're all right." 

"Steve ... stop talking. I'm hot ... and I'm horny ... and I'm a virgin ... 
and I want to fuck. Can I be more specific? Tell me what to say ... and I'll 
gladly say it, so long as it takes twenty-five words or less." 

He moved his fingers back to my legs. 

"No ... that's quite all right, I think. I get the idea." 

I felt the tips of them moving slowly over the inner surface of my thighs. 

I started to shiver. 

"Oh ... my God. That's incredible." 

"Haven't you ever done this? To yourself, I mean?" 

"Oh, gross!" 

"No ... seriously, haven't you ever done this?" 

"You ask some weird questions, you know that?" 

"You still haven't answered it" 

"Well...." 

"You have, haven't you?" 

"Look, I don't know...." 

"It's all right if you have. Everyone does it. Guys and girls." 

"No ... they don't." 

"Sure they do." 

"My parents don't." 

"Sure they do," he said, moving his fingers closer and closer to me now. 

"In fact," he went on as he pulled the hemline of my skirt up nearly to my 
waist now, "I'll just bet that some nights, if your old man can't get it up 
... your Mom lies in bed, and she takes her fingers, and she slips them 
underneath her pajamas ... and she just starts to do something a little like 
this...." 

He began to stroke my pussy on the outside of my panties. 

I wasn't saying anything now. 

I could feel my heart beating wildly inside my body ... and I was starting 
to get a little dizzy. 

"Oh ... oh ... oh...." I finally gasped. He chuckled. 

"You like this, don't you?" 

"Of course I do ... gosh ... what are you, silly?" 

He said nothing ... but he kept doing what he was doing ... and damn, he was 
doing it so well too. 

I felt him pressing down lightly on my clitoris ... very, very lightly. 

And then, I felt the edge of his fingernail actually scrape over the exposed 
tip of my clit. 

It sent a shock wave of sensation through my body. 

I went rigid. 

"Oh ... GOD!!" I gasped, "that was incredible." 

"I can feel your clit ... it's nice and hard ... and I'll just bet it's 
throbbing." 

"Oh ... yes ... yes ... yes...." I moaned. "Do it again. Please. Touch it 
again." 

"I will...." he said ... but he didn't. 

"Please...." I begged. 

"You really want it, don't you?" 

"God ... can't you tell?" 

"I'll tell you what you do." 

He moved off the sofa 

"Where are you going?" I demanded, feeling like I might well go out of my 
mind, if I didn't get some more of what he'd been doing to me. He said 
nothing. But he kept his eyes right on my crotch. He slowly pulled his pants 
down, and then he unbuttoned his shirt, and than, finally, he dropped his 
jockey shorts. 

I gasped. 

"You like what you see?" 

"Oh ... God yes ... it's beautiful." 

The side was almost completely covered in a series of thick, vine-like veins 
running all around the entire shaft. 

"It's so strange looking ... and yet ... it looks so normal." 

"It's pretty normal ... believe me," he said, smiling. 

"No ... that's not what I meant." 

"I'll tell you what you meant," he said, coming close to me. I reached up 
for it, and got my fingers around it, and then I started to give it a good 
squeeze. 

He just stood there, letting me squeeze the thing. 

And then he said, "Take your panties off. And your dress. I want to have a 
look at your body." 

I was obeying him, completely without question. It was like a French movie, 
where the young girl gets seduced by the older man. That's the way he was 
making me feel, and the more I got into it with him, the more I kept 
thinking it. 

I pulled my panties down, and I could feel the cool air on my exposed pussy. 
The lips and all of the membranes around my cunt were drenched from my 
juices, and now, as they began to evaporate in the air, the surface of the 
flesh started to get very cool. 

"Oh ... put your hand on me ... please...." He dropped down to his knees. 

"I'll go one better," he said. 

I watched his mouth open, and then I watched him slowly moving down ... down 
... down.... 

I jerked away. 

"No!" I said. 

"Huh? What do you mean no?" 

"No." 

"Well, I heard that. What's the problem?" 

"It's...." 

I didn't really know what the problem was. 

"Do you think it's weird or something?" 

"I ... well ... oh ... God I don't know." 

"It's a normal thing to do," he said to me, sounding amazingly patient. 
"Really. And on top of that, if feels just grand. I can promise you that." 

"I know ... I mean ... I've read books and all ... I don't know what 
happened ... it just suddenly felt like something that was perverted or 
something...." 

He laughed. 

"You're laughing at me." 

"Yeah ... but I'm not making fun of you. It's just a little strange, that's 
all." 

"Well ... maybe you do things differently in New York ... I don't know." 

"We do ... but not all that differently." 

He sat down next to me again, and started to stroke the inside of my thighs. 

"That feels good, Steve," I said. 

"Yeah? Well, how's this feel?" 

He moved his fingers up to my cunt, and this time, there were no panties in 
the way. 

"Oh God," I said as his fingers touched the outer part of my cunt lips. 
"That's amazing." 

He slowly moved the top along my slit, starting down at the bottom, all the 
way at the point where my ass cheeks come together, and then moving so slow 
that I thought he wasn't ever going to get there, he moved all the way 
through my pussy slit, all the way to the top, until there wasn't any more 
slit. 

And then, he put his finger back at the bottom and started over. 

"Oh God," I gasped. "That's wonderful. That's just so good, you don't know." 

"Sure I do," he said. 

"How. Did you ever have a cunt?" 

"Maybe." 

I sat up like a bolt "What do you mean by mat?" 

"Well ... you keep talking about how different I am. You ever think of 
that?" 

I was feeling real crazy from the dope and the beer that I'd had, and I 
couldn't tell if he was kidding me. The only thing that reassured me was the 
fact that he seemed to have been kidding me all night long, and I was pretty 
certain that he was kidding me now. 

"You're kidding, right?" I said, making sure. 

"Look at this thing, honey," he said, holding his cock up to me, "and tell 
me if you think that was made by God or by a surgeon." 

I looked at it. 

"Well ... it looks pretty real to me." 

He laughed again. "Damn You're real quick, you know that?" 

"You're laughing at me again. And this time, you really are making fun of 
me, aren't you?" 

He laughed again. 

"Yeah ... but I don't mean any harm by it." 

His finger on my clit stopped any futher protest that might have occurred to 
me. 

He started to move the tip of his finger all around my cunt., slowly working 
the juices over the outside of my lips ... playing lightly over the tip of 
my clit. 

He lowered his mouth to my breasts. 

That didn't bother me, and I let him start to suck. 

I couldn't believe how gentle he was ... how polished his movements seemed 
to be. 

My God, I thought to myself ... no wonder it never seemed like a good idea 
to get involved with a guy. They were all so clumsy ... compared to Steve, 
anyway. He seemed to know exactly how to raise the hair on the back of my 
head. I felt waves of tingling sensation rippling all through my body ... 
making me shiver ... making goose-bumps break out all over me. 

"Oh ... that's amazing," I said, softly. He gently pressed on my shoulders 
now, forcing me backwards onto the sofa. 

"Now, you just take it easy, keep your eyes closed, and pretend that you're 
in another universe where it's all right to do anything you feel like doing 
... and nothing's wrong. Okay?" 

I was in heaven. I was floating in a dream world, and I didn't care what was 
happening ... I didn't care at all.... 

And when I felt his mouth touching my thighs ... I got a slight twinge of 
fear and felt just a little uncomfortable, but that was all.... 

I didn't feel strange now. 

His tongue was gliding over the surface of my skin ... making me go out of 
my mind. 

And he hadn't even gotten to my clit yet. 

I couldn't feel anything except the shivering motion of all my muscles ... 
and the tingling as each nerve ending caught the waves of sensation that 
were flooding my body ... passed them on ... and then sent me higher and 
higher. 

He was at the outside of my cunt now. 

I felt the heat from his breath on my pussy. 

"Oh ... oh ... oh...." I said over and over ... moaning ... groaning ... 
rolling my hips slightly against his face. 

But he wouldn't allow me to press my pussy against his lips ... even though 
I was starting to think that the only thing that I wanted in the world was 
to have more and more pressure against my clitoris. 

He wouldn't let me do it. He kept pulling his head back ... and I was too 
caught in a dream world to fight him. 

I figured that he would get to it in time ... and I was right. 

He just took about ten times longer than I would have wanted him to ... if 
I'd had a choice. Which I didn't. 

He stretched each moment out., so long, that by the time he moved on to 
something stronger, I was already begging him silently to do it., he had 
completely wiped out any thoughts of resistance. 

I felt his tongue licking my cunt ... only on the outer lips. I moved my 
fingers down to my pussy, stretched my lips open a little further, and 
raised my hips. 

Lick my clit I was saying to him. 

He did, but only with one, quick motion. 

Then, he returned to the outer portion of my pussy lips. 

I felt his tongue starting to move much faster ... moving all over my cunt. 

But he wouldn't go inside. 

"Oh...." I finally had to say, "please ... please ... lick my clit. Play 
with it Bite it. I'm so hot. I can't stand it. I really can't." 

"You can't, huh?" he said. 

"No ... I'm going out of my mind." 

He chuckled, and then, as I waited with my breath held in ... nothing 
happened. 

I was almost ready to give up on him, when he shocked me. Like a bullet like 
the tip of a bullwhip, the tip of his tongue shot over the exposed head of 
my clitoris. 

I screamed. 

My entire body went rigid. He did it again. And then again. And again. 

I was already past thinking ... I was just feeling now ... there was nothing 
happening in my brain ... except for the fireworks that were going off. 

Over and over again, whipping his tongue back and forth now with demonic 
fury, he kept it up on me, striking my clit with a force that I'd never 
thought I could have found enjoyable. 

It was. 

It was the most incredible thing that I'd ever felt in my life. 

"More...." was all I could say. 

He heard me. And he delivered. Relentlessly. Ruthlessly. Without let-up. 

I felt the muscles all around my cunt starting to go into uncontrollable 
spasms. 

The waves of sensation that these spasms caused then began to rippled down 
my thighs, and up into my abdomen ... up through my breasts ... all down my 
arms ... out to the tips of my fingers.... 

And I felt all of my muscles responding in kind. 

I was getting dizzy. 

I felt like there was a vast space opening up beneath me. 

I felt like sometime within the next five seconds, I was going to spill out 
into a bottomless void, that I was going to stop living ... stop breathing 
... but that I wouldn't die ... I would simply find myself suspended in this 
strange space where everything was held in a limbo of pleasure ... where I 
could no longer think, where I could only feel.... 

And what I was feeling were sensations of the most pleasurable kind. 

I never wanted it to stop. 

Of course, that's when the phone rang. 

 INTERVIEW TWO 

He looked at me. "I don't believe it." 

I couldn't even talk, except to say, "Don't stop!" 

The phone, unfortunately, didn't stop either. "I'm afraid it's going to be 
more patient than you." 

"Oh ... I don't want to get up," I said. "You have to." 

I sighed. I knew that it was probably my parents, and that if I wasn't home, 
they were going to wonder where I was, and what I was doing, and there would 
be a lot of questions. I got up. I answered the phone. It was a wrong 
number! 

"YOU'RE AN ASSHOLE!!!!!" I screamed into the receiver, and slammed it down 
again. I slumped back into the other room. "Damn ... I don't believe it," I 
said. He laughed. "That happens." 

"But I was right on the edge of coming. Do you realize that? I was going to 
come. And it wasn't like anything I'd ever felt before." 

"Oh ... so you do masturbate." 

"What!" 

"Well ... I figure you have to have something to compare it to." 

"You're right. You have any more dope?" 

"No. I'm afraid not." 

"Well ... I do. You want some more?" 

"Sure ... why not." 

I looked around for my purse. It wasn't anywhere to be found. "Oh shit ... 
I'll bet I left it out in your car. I'll go get it." 

"Aw, don't bother. It's not important." 

"I want some more dope." 

"Suit yourself." 

I quickly put my clothes back on. I saw that he was looking at me with a 
disappointed look on his face. 

"Don't worry. You're not going to have any trouble getting me out of these 
again. I promise you that." 

I found my purse, and was about to shut the door to his car again, when I 
noticed something else. 

His notebook. 

NO, a voice was screaming in my head. 

That's private. That's his personal property. 

Maybe it was because I was already stoned and a little drunk ... I don't 
know. 

But I just quickly opened it up ... flicked through the pages ... and then, 
I started to read. 

I was there ... and so was Spud ... and Peter ... and a lot of other 
people.... 

There were descriptions ... there were accounts of conversations ... there 
were discussions ... there were quotes ... there were all sorts of 
nuggets.... 

After reading a while, I was convinced of two things. One ... Steve was no 
narc. Two ... he was no high school student. But I guess I'd already come to 
that conclusion already. 

I don't know why I was seized with such an incurable curiosity. The things 
that I'd read piqued my interest for several reasons. One ... they were very 
fine notes, if he'd been a journalist. Which he'd said that he wasn't. 

But I couldn't imagine him writing the things that I'd read there, for any 
other reason than if he was making a study of the life style of our school. 
It didn't make any sense. 

I picked up a folder that was in the back of the car. 

I knew that I had to move fast ... he'd be wondering where I was. 

I quickly thumbed through it., there were some articles ... photocopied ... 
there were documents ... I saw a lot of different names ... not Richard 
Spack ... which I'd been looking for ... but not Steve Tanner either. Then, 
I found something that took me by surprise. 

It was an 8 x 10 glossy ... a crowd scene ... but the picture was one that 
I'd seen before. 

I looked at the crowd. 

There was Frank Zappa ... and Graham Nash ... and Stevie Nicks ... and.... 

I was amazed. There were all kinds of people there who were famous. 

And there were other people too. One of them, a man, was circled with a 
magic marker. He had a beard. 

I studied the person. 

It looked like Steve ... but I couldn't tell. Steve ... of course, had no 
beard. 

But, I wondered, how recently had he shaved it? 

But more importantly, I was wondering where I'd seen the picture before. 

Then, I remembered. And I knew that I was going to get some answers from 
him. 

I ran back into the house. 

"I was afraid you'd gotten lost--" he said as I raced through the living 
room. "Hey, where are you going?" he asked. 

I said nothing. Just ran up to my room. 

When I got there, I pulled down my stack of Rolling Stone magazines, which 
I'd been collecting for the past six years or so ... but I knew that I 
wouldn't have to go that far back The issue I was looking for had appeared 
in the past year. I was certain of that. 

And I was right. There it was, almost a year old ... but the same picture 
... some big birthday party for the magazine, with a lot of important 
luminaries from the show business and music world on hand to help them 
celebrate ... and there was the same bearded guy ... and the caption said 
"STAFF WRITER: Gordon Simpson." 

I looked around, and there he was. Standing right there. 

"What the hell are you doing?" he asked. 

"Just trying to imagine what you'd look like with a beard." 

He didn't say anything for a while. 

"Your name wouldn't be Gordon, would it?" 

He smiled. "You're good. I'm surprised." 

"Not really. Just a snoop." 

"Oh ... I see. That's why you were gone." 

I nodded. "I saw this picture. I remembered that I'd seen it before." 

He kept smiling. "You won't give me away, will you?" 

"I don't know. Tell me what the hell's going on." 

He sighed. 

"I wanted to do a story on dwindling generation gaps ... I mean ... I 
graduated from high school in '72, and I feel like there's a huge gap 
already." 

"You what? That makes you...." 

"Twenty-five. Please ... don't remind me. I feel old enough. I don't need to 
see the shock in your eyes." 

"But you don't look it...." 

"I know. That's why I thought I could get away with it." 

"But ... but.." 

"I'll explain everything ... if you insist. But I'd really appreciate it if 
you'd keep it quiet. I've put a lot of time into this ... and I don't want 
to waste it." 

"Your name really is Richard Spack, as well ... isn't it?" 

His eyes grew wide. 

"My God ... who ever found that?" 

"Spud." 

"Oh shit." 

"It's all right He just thinks it's you. I can tell him it's not." 

"You can?" 

"Sure." 

"How." 

"I'll lie." 

"You will?" 

"Sure." 

"Why?" 

"Because," I said, taking his hand and moving it to my breasts ... you've 
got a job to do." 

"I do, huh?" 

"You sure do. I mean, what better way for you to talk about the generation 
gap than to describe popping a cherry. Come on ... how long's it been since 
you got to do that?" 

"A long time ... I have to admit." 

"So ... let's go." 

"Really? You're not mad?" 

"I don't know ... maybe. I need to think about it first, and right now, I'm 
not in much of a mood to think. You know what I mean?" 

He dropped his hand to my crotch. 

"Why don't you slip out of this skirt?" 

"Why don't you slip me out of it." 

"Really? I mean ... you're cool about all this?" 

"Steve ... are you going to stand here and talk all night long?" 

He stared at me a moment more, and then, I felt his fingers find my cunt. I 
had just pulle my skirt over my hips ... I hadn't bothered to pull my 
panties back on, and now, his hot, eager fingers found my cunt. 

"Yes...." I moaned as I felt them rush up into me. "Oh yes ... fill me up. 
Fuck me Steve. Make me a woman." 

Now ... I know that's a corny line ... but I guess I was playing for the 
book ... that's the only thing I can think of now. I wanted him to talk 
about me ... and I wanted him to do it in glowing terms.... 

"You didn't think you were going to get away with something like this, did 
you?" I asked as he pulled my skirt down my hips. 

"I wasn't trying ... you did all the work ... remember?" 

"Yeah ... I remember ... and I think it was worth it." 

"Wait till it's over, and then tell me that." 

He carefully laid me back on my bed, and let me stretch out. My legs 
naturally spread open ... and then, I watched him produce his cock again ... 
that wonderful spear ... that hard, throbbing rod ... and I stared at it ... 
unbelieving. The thing seemed to have actually grown larger. I knew ... I 
just knew that it wouldn't ever get up inside me. 

But I had to trust him. 

He dropped his head down to my cunt again, and his tongue began to once more 
lick fondly ... lovingly over my slit. 

I began to writhe on the bed beneath him, and he was forced to move his 
hands up to my shoulders to hold me still. I moved them down to my breasts. 
I figured he could accomplish the same thing, but it would feel a lot 
better. 

He pressed his fingers around my breasts ... squeezing them tightly ... 
pressed his palms against my nipples and squeezed them tightly too. 

I was starting to moan again. I really hadn't had a chance to come down from 
the first time when I'd nearly come. 

I had gone out to his car to get my dope, but that was forgotten now. I 
wanted only one thing. 

His cock, and I wanted it slamming up into my wet pussy. 

"Oh ... God," I heard him mutter, and I looked down to see him staring at my 
cunt. 

"What's wrong," I asked him. 

"Nothing. Nothing at all is wrong. It's a beautiful sight ... the most 
beautiful sight I've laid my eyes on in a long long time." 

He slowly moved up onto me ... placing his hips directly above mine. 

I felt his cock moving up to my cunt. 

I was frightened ... I knew that it would hurt ... that there would be blood 
... but it didn't matter ... I wanted it ... I was doing this for me ... for 
him ... and for research. He needed to know what high school virgins felt 
like ... and I was going to show him. I figured that he'd have forgotten by 
now. 

His cock was pressing against the outside of my lips now ... and then, it 
was pressing even harder ... and harder still. 

"Oh yes ... yes ... yes ... yes ... yes ... yes...." I started to gasp, 
shouting the words ... as if I wasn't able to control them. 

I could feel my cunt opening now.... 

Membranes that had known only a finger or two (and the occasional hairbrush 
handle) were now suddenly expected to cope with a cock the size of the Ritz. 

He was being very gentle, and every so often, he would lower his head down 
to my pussy and lick over my tissues more, to make certain that there was 
plenty of lubrication over my membranes. 

He rubbed some juice from his mouth over the head of his cock too. 

Then, he pressed it against me again. 

"Stretch your lips," he told me. 

I brought my hands down to the edges of my cunt lips, started to pull on 
them, and as i opened my pussy, I felt his glans enter the rim of my hot 
hole. 

He began to press more insistently now.... 

I felt the rim of his glans starting to rub against my cunt hole ... the 
edges began to open further and further.... 

I started to feel a heat mounting inside me. It felt weird, but it wasn't 
pain. Or rather the pain was delicious. It gave me a feeling of fullness ... 
a feeling that I was, at long last, crossing a line ... that I was leaving 
my old world ... that I was becoming a woman. 

He pressed onward. 

And then ... as he managed to get his cock about a quarter of the way into 
me, I felt it ... my cherry! That magical barrier between childhood and 
adulthood. 

And the door was beginning to open ... he pressed harder ... harder.... 

"Oh!" I cried out, feeling a sharp stab of pain ripping through my body. He 
paused, but he didn't pull out all the way. 

"Tell me if I hurt you too badly. Don't let me hurt you ... there's more 
than one way to do this." 

"Don't worry ... I'll be all right. Don't stop. Please. Don't stop." 

"Are you alright?" 

"Yes ... don't stop." And he pressed onward. "I'm going to go in," he said. 
"Are you ready?" 

I closed my eyes ... held my breath ... and nodded my head. 

He pulled his cock back, making a couple of quick thrusts to make certain 
that there was plenty of juice all over the shaft.... 

And then, he rammed into me. 

I screamed. 

Long ... loud ... and hard. 

I felt like someone had poured molten lead up into my pussy. 

I felt like someone had taken a knife and sliced me open. 

I felt like someone had just rammed a Saturn V up me. 

I felt ... full. 

I felt deliriously full. I didn't realize at first ... but soon, the glow 
began ... and as his cock moved all the way into me now, I started to feel 
something else besides the pain. 

I felt a heat of passion, and I felt the satisfaction of lust rising all 
through my nerves. 

I couldn't stop ... I was moaning so loud that I was afraid some of the 
neighbors might hear. 

He reached the bottom of my pussy, and he just held his cock there. 

'Oh ... please ... fuck me ... fuck me...." I begged him. 

"I will. Don't worry about that. But you're going to have to be patient." 

He kept his cock there inside me.... 

"What's wrong? Why aren't you fucking me?" 

"Take it easy," he laughed. "It's been a long time since I've felt a cunt 
this tight. It's delicious feeling ... by the way ... in case you were 
wondering ... but it's got my balls in an uproar. Now ... I can either ram 
on, or I can wait, and maybe stretch this out a little." 

"Oh. Okay." 

I wasn't sure what he was talking about, what the problem really was, but I 
knew that he knew what he was talking about, and that I should just trust 
him. 

Finally, he began. 

I felt his cock make the long trek back to the opening of my pussy. 

And then, he started to press it onward again ... back down into me. 

He was taking long, slow strokes ... letting me feel every small part of his 
shaft. 

"That's delicious," I said to him. Do you have any idea how good that feels 
to me?" 

"I hope it feels as good as you feel to my cock." 

It was just so wonderful ... we were both getting off on each other so 
beautifully, I felt like I was doing something that I'd always known about 
... sort of ... in my dreams ... but that had never really come out in my 
conscious thoughts, not until the moment when he started to put it into me. 
Then, it started to feel normal ... familiar ... like I'd done this a 
thousand times with him. 

He had his cock back at the opening to my pussy again. 

He was playing the glans against the hole ... pressing it in just a little 
way, and then pulling it back out again. 

In ... out. 

In ... out. 

Small, minute little strokes ... taking as little space as he possibly 
could, and still have some kind of movement for me to feel. 

In ... Out.... 

In.... 

Out.... 

In a little farther now. 

Back out ... a quick short jerking movement. 

And then, taking a long slow stroke, he once more buried his cock all the 
way in my cunt. 

Then, he pulled out again. 

Right at the opening to my pussy. 

He moved the head of his cock up to my clit and started to move it back and 
forth over the surface of my clit. 

I was writhing in agony. 

I couldn't believe the intensity of the feeling ... the agony ... so much 
pleasure that it was almost uncomfortable. 

"Ohhhhhhhhhhhh ... ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh ... ohhhhhhhhhh...." I gasped, over and 
over and over. 

"Spread your legs wider," he told me. 

I did as he asked, and then he slipped his hands underneath my knees, lifted 
my legs, and actually set them on my shoulders. 

I was shocked. 

I was almost straight up in the air. 

But then, I saw why he had done it. . 

In that position, he was able to bury his cock much further into me. 

I felt it pressing all the way to the back wall of my cunt. 

I could feel the elastic membrane stretching ... further ... further.... 

Surely, I thought, he was going to split it open. 

But it didn't happen. He just kept on burying it. Pressing further and 
further. I couldn't help myself. 

I was starting to cry ... not because he was hurting me ... but because it 
was the most delicious thing that I'd ever felt happen to me, and there was 
no way that I could keep it going forever. Even though I knew that I wanted 
to. 

Deeper. 

Deeper. 

Harder. 

Out again. 

Pressing down. 

Out now ... harder when he pressed it back in. 

Then out another time. 

He was starting to move faster, pulling his cock all the way out every 
stroke, and then burying it all the way into me in one sharp, quick thrust. 

Out. 

In. 

Out. 

In. 

I lost track of the movement. 

I lost track of everything. I forgot my name. I forgot what year it was. I 
forgot the name of my high school. I forgot which of his names he was 
fucking me with. 

What's a name. By any other name, a cock is still a cock is still a cock. 

And a cunt is a cunt is a cunt is a fucked wet slit is a steaming hole. 

And I was on fire. 

I was burning. 

I was sizzling. 

I was screaming. 

I ... I was a woman. 

The next day, I told Peter and Spud that they were wrong. That's all I told 
them. That night, I told Steve (or Gordon ... I didn't care) that I was 
going to give him a lot more personal instruction in the ways and means of 
modern high school students. And I told him that he wouldn't need a 
notebook. 

And you know what? I can state with absolute confidence that he truly 
didn't. That boy will never forget a single thing that I showed him ... as 
long as he lives. 

And neither will I. 

 CONCLUSION 

What can I say, except that it's nice to see that some young women still 
lose it in circumstances that are pleasant, and that help them develope into 
healthy, mature women. Women who enjoy sex. Women who like to fuck God bless 
'em, we could use a lot more like them. Instead of types like the one you 
will meet in the next case. 

 CASE HISTORY FOUR 

SUBJECT: Lisa H. AGE: Twenty 

INTERVIEW ONE 

Lisa is ... oh hell, what's the point in mincing words. She's a fox, and 
what's worse, she knows it. 

Other girls with initial sexual encounters such as the one she described to 
me would find themselves scarred for life, most likely. 

Not Lisa. She seems to have only gained confidence from the brutal method of 
her deflowering. 

It has resulted in a poise and an attitude that I could only describe a 
formidable. And indeed, my own reasons for doing so are quite legitimate ... 
as you will see. See if you don't agree with me. 

You don't mind if I smoke, do you, Doc? I hope not. It always relaxes me. 

Excuse me? Oh ... yeah, I guess they are, aren't they? You don't mean that 
you're up tight about it, do you? Really? I mean, you really care that I'm 
getting ready to light up a joint? Don't give me that, doc. I know better. 
Here ... I'll tell you what. Why don't I just go over and lock the door ... 
and then there won't be any problems. Okay? I mean, this is a nice modern 
office. Good ventilation and all, right? Sure. You don't need to get all 
worked up or anything ... no one's going to know. And you want me to talk 
about myself, don't you? This stuff makes it a lot easier for me to loosen 
up. Now ... let me just adjust my dress ... oh, Doctor, I saw that. You were 
looking up my dress weren't you? 

Don't go playing coy with me. I know. Sure, you shrinks aren't supposed to 
say anything, you're just supposed to sit there and listen to us ... but I 
know different. You're not all that detached, certainly not as much as you 
like to pretend that you are. You can't fool me. I'll bet you saw that I 
wasn't wearing any panties, didn't you. 

Mmmmmm ... this weird couch feels strange. It's got a nice coarse weave ... 
you know? Or haven't you ever been on this side of your desk? I'll bet you 
haven't ever been on this side of your desk, have you? I guess you wouldn't 
know what it feels like to have this material rubbing against your naked 
ass.... 

And you know what? If I spread my legs apart, just so, sort of like this ... 
I can feel the material rubbing right over my cunt. 

How about that, doctor? Surprised that I'd say a word like cunt? I'll bet 
you are. I'll bet you're not used to girls like me ... girls who aren't 
ashamed of their bodies ... who aren't afraid to admit that they get horny 
... that they need to feel a man touching them ... who aren't afraid to go 
out and get what they want. 

I tried, you know, for a long time, before I was finally able to get it. 

I tried with guys my own age. 

That was a mistake. I didn't have any luck, mainly because of these. 

(Ed. Note: At this point, patient raised her tight sweater to reveal a pair 
of lovely, firm, and quite braless breasts. She held her sweater up-long 
enough for me to get a good view of them, and then, she kept it up. I 
finally assured her that I'd been duly impressed by the view, whereupon she 
lowered her sweater). 

Don't ask me why, doc, but some guys find tits like that intimidating. Isn't 
that crazy? Guys grow up looking at big titted broads in PLAYBOY and 
PENTHOUSE and all those other skin magazines, and at night they go to sleep 
rubbing their cocks while they think about the same tits that they've been 
looking at in their magazines.... 

Yet, when someone like me comes along and says "Jump in the water's fine," I 
swear, you can just watch their cocks go soft. 

And that's really depressing too, because when you get a guy alone who's 
maybe seventeen or eighteen, all you have to do is look down at his crotch, 
and you can watch the thing start to bulge out. 

I mean, erections at the drop of a hat. 

But damn it there's something too fucking immature about a young guy, and I 
don't like it. 

I like a guy who knows what big tits are for ... and who knows what my pussy 
is for. I'll tell you something, Doc. When I was a little girl, I knew all 
about sex. 

I snuck into my daddy's closet one time when they were out, and I got a load 
of some of the pron mags that he had stashed up in there.... 

And let me tell you ... I learned right then what it was all about ... what 
it all looked like, and where everything went, and what it did when it got 
there. 

I knew that cocks got hard, and that they squirted thick white gobs of jism 
... and I knew that pussies opened up, and that they got good and juicy and 
wet, and that when they were wet enough, cocks would slide into them. 

Now ... maybe I was only ten or so when I figured all this out, but I'll 
tell you what. It made perfect sense to me. It sounded just fine, thank you. 
I was all set, and figured that all I needed was to pick up a good cock. 

It wasn't that easy. 

I tried for the next six years. 

And I'm telling you, I went after cock after cock ... always making the same 
mistake. 

They were guys that were my age. 

Now ... young guys are good for erections. 

Unfortunately, they're not real reliable. They come fast, but they vanish 
just as fast, and there's seldom anything that you can do about them. 

When I got a little older, I started to find that guys were more willing to 
play around, but then I discovered that the added element of 'reputation' 
was something that I had to contend with. 

Now, I still haven't quite figured out just what all a reputation is 
supposed to consist of, and why it's so important, but it is, and I wasn't 
going to play around with mine. 

So, I had to conduct my cock hunt while at the same time not letting myself 
get off in some weird spot where all these asshole guys go around thinking 
that they don't have to take you seriously. 

I'll tell you, the one thing that American society hasn't figured out what 
to do with yet is an intelligent girl who happens to like fucking. 

I didn't enjoy all the games that you had to play, and to make matters 
worse, once you finally got a cock that was ready, and the idiot realized 
all of a sudden that "Holy shit, this is it! This is the big moment!" well, 
you can just bet that they all got cold feet, and none of them knew what to 
do. 

Okay, okay, so, I'm talking about fifteen, sixteen here. But hell, that's 
old enough to start fucking! 

I couldn't manage it, though, and it was starting to make me mad. I wound up 
with cum all over my hands once or twice, and cum all over my face, and I 
even got cum all over my pussy.... 

But getting that elusive hard cock inside my pussy ... ah, that was a bitch 
of a problem, and I was starting to think that I wasn't going to manage it. 

I turned to cucumbers ... coke bottles ... broom handles.... 

Yeah ... you look surprised, doc, but I was using all those things ... and 
still, I knew that it wasn't the same. I mean, I guess you could make a case 
for saying that I'd already broken my cherry by the time I finally got 
fucked, but as far as I'm concerned, virginity is a state of mind, not a 
piece of flesh and a little blood. And my state of mind was decidedly 
unfucked, by the time, the fateful afternoon finally arrived. 

What was so nice about it was that I wasn't expecting it ... but 
nevertheless, I'd laid the groundwork, and set a firm foundation for the 
experience. 

I'd spent the entire morning reading a dirty book. 

It was one that I'd borrowed from a friend at school, and I'd already read 
it before, but it was the kind of book that you don't read for the story, 
you read for the mood, and the mood was one that turned me on. 

It was a hard bondage and whips and pain book ... you know the type.... 

Oh ... you don't? Ha! That's a good one. I'll just bet you don't. Well, so 
what. The fact is, I knew the type, and I got off pretty much. Not that I'd 
ever want to have any of those things happen to me, or anything. Gross! But 
it's real neat to read about it. 

Naked women ... all tied up ... ropes around the ankles ... around the 
wrists.... 

Clamps on the nipples ... clamps on the clit.... 

Ooooooo! I'm shivering right now even thinking about it. I get off on 
reading about that stuff, doc, you see, and so, by that afternoon, when I 
decided to go out to the pool and get a suntan, I was already a lot homier 
than I realized. Of course, I was always hornier than I realized, because 
I'd never really gotten my horns clipped at all. I mean, I was always hot, 
and randy ... I just never knew that there was any other way to be. 

But, down by the pool, I started to really get an itch. 

I looked around. 

No one. 

That wasn't unusual. 

My father was away on business ... my mother was out to whatever club 
meeting that she had on Wednesdays ... and she wouldn't be home until late 
... and the servents were off that afternoon. 

It was just me. 

Or so I thought. 

I had no way of knowing that at that very minute, my brother and a couple of 
his friends were turning off the Interstate highway that was about ten miles 
from my home, to pay us an unexpected visit from college. I wasn't expecting 
him. I wasn't expecting anybody. And so, it never occurred to me, as I 
slipped my top off from my tits, that there would ever be anyone to see me. 

The sun was hot, and I rubbed my tits with oil, but I knew that I wasn't 
just looking for a tan. Not that afternoon. I wanted more. 

I kept rubbing them. I felt my palms scraping over my nipples, again and 
again, and they quickly got hard. 

I couldn't stop, and of course, I didn't want to. 

So I started to pinch them. 

I pulled them. I squeezed them. Then, I gathered a large clump of my tits in 
each hand, and I started to squeeze them both. 

My tits are nice and big, and as I squeezed, the flesh spilled out of my 
hand in jiggling rolls. 

I was well on my way to getting turned on. 

I'd done this sort of thing lots of times, of course. But for some reason, 
today I was a lot hornier than I usually was. 

Maybe it was the book that I'd read. 

I don't know ... it had to be, I suppose, because as I began to pinch my 
nipples, and began to feel the pain shooting through the tissues of my 
breasts, flooding the circuits of my nerves, and beginning to burn down 
between my legs, I imagined a quite different scene. 

I saw a man, hooded, but naked otherwise, standing over me. 

He was holding something in his hands.... 

It was like a pair of pliers ... but you could fasten them to whatever 
tension you desired ... and as my fingers squeezed around my nipples, it 
became that tool that he was holding in his hands ... my fantasy began to 
take over my mind. 

I started to shake ... I started to moan, and I squeezed my tits even 
harder. 

I could feel juices beginning to form in a thick pool between my legs. 

I couldn't help myself anymore. I didn't care. I didn't think anyone was 
watching, but even if they had been, it wouldn't have mattered to me. 

I pulled my bikini bottoms off ... (it wasn't hard. My daddy always said 
they were half off me anyway) and touched my cunt. 

It was like having a live electrode against my flesh. 

I touched my clit right on the exposed tip. 

The sensations were hot, they were sharp, and they were delicious. 

I felt all my muscles tense up. I felt my nipples getting even harder, as 
well as the entire shaft of my clitoris. 

I was going out of my mind. 

My fantasy was taking over. 

I imagined the man standing over me, his cock sticking straight out form his 
body, his thick sack of balls dangling deliciously between his parted 
thighs. 

I stared at it, and I swear, I could almost see it. I could feel it., reach 
out and touch the hardness of it. 

I felt my body starting to shake and shiver. I started playing with myself 
more ... and more ... and more.... 

I felt the sun beating down on me. 

I could smell the scent of the suntan oil on my body. I could feel myself 
growning more and more aroused by the tips of my fingers as they played with 
the inside of my pussy lips. 

I was really getting hot now ... going out of my mind ... getting to the 
point that I started to forget everything else about what I was doing. I was 
just feeling more and more sensation rippling through my nerves ... I could 
feel my muscles growing more and more tense ... I could feel them starting 
to shake, to shiver ... I could feel myself getting more and more pressure 
built up inside myself. 

It felt like I was slowly, steadily, starting to melt. 

I touched my clitoris, played with it, let it roll around beneath my 
fingers. 

I squeezed it between the tips of my fingers. The sensations shivered up and 
down my spine. 

I heard myself beginning to moan. 

"Mmmmmmmm...." I said, softly, to my self, finding that if I made the noise 
aloud instead of just sensing it in my head, I would be able to feel more. 
It doesn't make a lot of sense, logically, but then, neither does anything 
about the good sensations that you get from sexual arousal. Don't you think? 

I pressed my clit harder. 

The material from my bathing suit fell to the side of my lounge chair. 

I raised my knees, spread my thighs wider and wider, and started to press my 
fingers more deeply into my body. 

"Oh ... oh ... oh...." I moaned. "I can't stand it," I thought, "I just 
can't stand it." 

What was I thinking about? 

The fact that I was still there, all by myself, that I couldn't manage to 
get laid. 

It's ridiculous, I know. It must sound crazy. A girl with a body like mine. 

But all of a sudden, that afternoon, I got angry. I got very, very pissed 
off. "Damn it!" I said, aloud. "It's a crock of shit. That's what it is. 
It's a damn crock of shit!" 

"What is? " a voice asked back. 

I opened my eyes. 

And then, I swear, doc, I went cold as stone. 

There was a big guy standing there, holding a beer, and he was just leering 
at me, staring up and down my body. 

Strange as it might sound, I instantly forgot all about the lack of men to 
fuck me. Instead, I started to get very, very frightened. 

"You stay away from me," I said, my voice soft from fear, coming out in 
scarcely more than a whisper. 

"Hey, now ... ease up," he said, not making any moves on me, just calmly 
tipping up his beer, letting some of the foamy liquid drip down his chin. 

"Who are you?" I asked. I reached for my bathing suit, and as I spread my 
legs to slip them back into the suit, he said "Hold on now ... don't go 
doing anything rash ... please." 

He was looking right at my cunt. 

I was never so scared in my life. 

"You leave me alone. Get out of here. How'd you get in anyway? Get out ... 
get out" 

I was almost about to scream. The only reason that I hadn't already was that 
i was too frightened, and to tell you the truth, it hadn't even occurred to 
me. 

"Hold on now," he laughed. I hated to admit it, but his laugh wasn't the 
laugh of someone that I should have considered dangerous. It was ... well, I 
couldn't quite describe it, but it sounded more like a hell-raising party 
laugh. "You're running an awful lot of stuff past me, doll. You should hold 
up a little bit, all right? I mean, let me take them one at a time, how 
about it" 

I pulled my bathing suit up over my hips, and he watched my cunt disappear 
from sight with what I could only describe as a look of disappointment. 

But my breasts were still naked, still shining from the suntan oil that I'd 
rubbed over them, and to my surprise, now that I became aware of them again, 
I realized that my nipples were much harder than they'd been before. 

In fact they were actually throbbing with pain, they were so hard. I could 
feel it inside me. I could feel it pounding inside my body, feel the 
throbbing pulse of my blood pressing against the taut material, and as I 
felt the inner sensations of my body, I realized tthat my fear didn't seem 
to be just that I'd been growing very, very aroused, and now, once my 
initial fear subsided a little, I started to feel his eyes on my body, and 
as much as I hated him for being there, and as frightened as I was of him 
... I liked him looking at me. I started to put my hands over my nipples, 
trying to shield my breasts from him, but instead, I left them dangling at 
my side, my nipples defiantly jutting out at him. "You asked, I believe, how 
I got in." 

"I most certainly did." 

"Well ... that was pretty easy. The guy I was with had a key. He just 
slipped it in the lock, and we walked in. Next question?" 

"What guy? What are you talking about?" 

Suddenly, there was another form materializing behind him, in the shadows of 
the living room that opened onto the patio. 

I didn't recognize him either, but like the first guy, he was wearing a 
white undershirt, blue-jeans cut-offs, sandals, and he too was holding a 
beer in his hand, a beer that he now popped the top off of and tipped back. 

When he straightened up again, the can was empty. He crushed in in his big 
hand and tossed it onto the patio. 

"You fucking pig," the first guy said. 

"Aw, bite it," he replied, looking straight at me. 

He shook his head. "Christ," he muttered, "why don't you introduce me?" 

"I would, but I can't seem to get her to be friendly." 

"Shit ... she looks plenty friendly to me," he said with a big, dumb grin, 
the first guy walked over to me. I stayed right where I was, now so totally 
petrified from fear that I didn't know what to do. How had these guys gotten 
a key to our house? 

"How is he?" the first guy asked his friend. 

"Like a baby. He'll wake up in about three or four hours and feel like total 
shit, but besides that, he's going to live. I hope. It'd be real 
embarrassing for us if he didn't." 

I looked from one to the other, not having any idea what they were talking 
about. 

Then, the larger of the two, the second guy who'd made an appearance said 
"You're brother vastly over-estimated his drinking ability." 

"My brother? Nick? He's here?" 

"Well ... his body is. I don't know where his mind is at the moment, but be 
patient and I'm sure he'll come back on one piece." 

"What's wrong with him," I asked feeling more concerned for him than I was 
for my own safety now. 

"Nothing ... except that he ate a couple of quaaludes along with about a 
fifth of tequila." 

The first guy laughed. He made a rising whistle sound, as he fluttered his 
fingers up above his head. And then, as he made a descending whistling 
sound, his fingers took a dive straight down. 

"Sad case," said the second guy. 

I decided that they were most likely harmless now, and I wanted to make sure 
that Nick really was here, and that he was all right, so I finally picked up 
my halter top and slipped my arms through it. 

"Guess we kind of interrupted you, didn't we?" said the big guy. "Didn't 
mean to be impertinent or nothing." 

"The fucking hell you didn't," said his friend who then stuck his hand out. 
"Barry. This is Steve, but we call him Moose." 

"I ain't no moose." 

"I know, you're not as smart, but you're about as strong so well leave it, 
all right?" I stood up. 

"If you two will excuse me, I'm going to check on my brother. Where'd you 
leave him?" 

They told me that he was on the living room couch, and sure enough, that's 
where he was, looking quite dead, and very disturbed. I looked down at him, 
felt for a pulse, and then folded his arms gently across his body and 
unwrapped a spread to throw over him. 

"Now ... there you have a real Florence Nightengale," said Barry. 

"Yeah, the love of a sister." 

I turned around and the two of them had produced two more beers from our ice 
box, no doubt. 

I looked them up and down. I felt them looking me up and down. 

I was wearing my bathing suit now, of course, but it was still one of the 
smallest suits that the law allows you to wear in public, and I felt them 
staring me up and down again. 

And once more, my nipples started to get hard. 

I stared them back, and finally said "You guys want something real to 
drink?" 

That arched two pairs of eyebrows in a hurry, and I said, "why don't you let 
me take those from you?" 

Moose pulled his away from me and rapidly drained it in a single gulp. 

Barry looked at him admiriny and said "He's a wonder, isn't he?" 

Moose then took Barry's beer from him and drained that too. Then he belched. 
I had gotten over my fear of them both now, and even though there was a 
voice telling me that I should be running from them, that I should at least 
go upstairss and put some more clothes on, I didn't pay any attention to it. 
I told myself, that's just the voice of my upbringing trying to keep me a 
child. Well, I didn't want to be a child. Fate had somehow dropped two burly 
men in my lap, and I was going to take advantage of it. 

I went to the liquor cabinet and said "Tequila, huh? That what you boys were 
drinking?" 

"Yep," I heard Moose say. He was right behind me. He turned around and saw 
that his big hand was already reaching for the strap of my bathing suit 

"Hold on, cowboy," I said, but I must not have put much determination into 
it, because his hand kept on coming. Thinking back, I guess I didn't have 
much determination in my voice in the first place. What I did have was a 
wild tingling in my tits, and in my crotch and a steady stream of juice 
flowing through the lips of my pussy, staining the bottom half of my bikini 
bathing suit. 

"You know what," he said to me. 

I had a firm grip on the tequila bottle, and as I turned around and stood 
back up, I kept my grip on it, as if I might be tempted to use it as a 
weapon. He looked at the bottle, looked at the way I was holding it and he 
laughed. 

"I'll tell you what," he went on, turning to look back at Barry who seemed 
to be merely watching and waiting. I stood motionless. 

Moose reached for the bottle, took it from me easily and opened it He drank 
a large swig of that too, but at least he left some for the rest of us. 

"I'll tell you what I think," he said, taking his sweet time to get to the 
point 

"Well," I said, "I hope you tell me before my folks get home." 

That jarred him a little. "When's that?" he asked. 

"Tomorrow night ... if they get back early. So ... what were you saying?" 

I could feel my heart pounding inside my body. I could feel the tension 
hanging in the air. 

I realized that he was drunk on his ass, and that he probably wouldn't be 
talking to me this way, and leering at me, and being so forceful and 
belligerent if he was sober ... but then, maybe he would have anyway. I 
didn't care. I was getting so hot, I would have fucked a real moose right 
then. 

"I think," he finally went on, "that you want to get that sweet little cunt 
of yours fucked." 

"You do, huh? What gives you that idea?" 

Was I imagining it, or was my voice getting", softer? And was that a 
quivering sound that had crept in? Damn straight it was ... and it wasn't 
from fear either. I was shaking, and I couldn't control it. 

I watched his big fingers move to my breasts. It seemed like they were 
moving in slow motion, but really, I suppose they weren't. I just wasn't 
able to estimate anything anymore. 

I just stared. 

Then, I felt him touching me. 

He started to pinch my nipples. 

Then, he pinched them harder. And harder. 

I closed my eyes, felt my breathing get shorter and sharper, and then, 
finally, I let out a small moan. 

"Hey, Moose," said Barry. "Take it easy, huh? I mean, you don't want to hurt 
her, do you?" 

I kept my eyes closed. 

I was breathing very hard now. 

He kept pinching. Neither one of us gave any indication that Barry had said 
anything. 

I don't know how to explain it, Doc. It was like I was part of a story that 
someone else had written. It was like ... it was like it wasn't me. You 
know? I mean, I was there, and I was feeling it, but I wasn't making the 
decisions. It wasn't me that had decided that I was going to get laid, so, I 
could do anything I wanted to do and I wouldn't have to take responsibility 
for it. Right? 

I know, I know. It sounds like a bunch of bullshit. But remember, Doc, I was 
scared. I was getting ready to cross a line that I'd never crossed before, 
and it scared the hell out of me. 

I didn't know what to do ... and I didn't know how to do it. So, all I could 
do was to stand there, keep my eyes closed, and hope that everything would 
work out all right. That's all I could do, and that's all I did. 

He kept pinching my nipples ... harder and harder and harder.... 

And then his fingers slipped up beneath the material. 

 INTERVIEW TWO 

I felt his skin connect with mine. It was a hot sensation. His body felt 
like it was a lot hotter than mine. His fingers felt like they'd just come 
out of the oven. 

My breasts tingled. I felt him starting to squeeze them. I felt his fingers 
pressing into the soft mounds of flesh. 

I felt him pushing against the entire curved mass of tissue ... letting his 
hands wrap around my tits, and then, slowly, steadily, start to squeeze with 
ever increasing pressure. 

I felt all this, and I felt more. I felt like I was in a fantasy world ... 
like I was in a dream., like it wasn't happening to me. 

I felt my clitoris between my thighs, and that, at least, felt like it was a 
sensation that was happening to me. : 

I started to shake a little. 

I felt my hips move. 

"Barry," said Moose softly, "why are you just standing there?" 

"Uh ... look, Moose ... is this cool?" 

He turned back and looked at his friend. "Barry, if you have to ask that 
question, you got yourself one fuck of a problem, and I'm not the one to 
help you out." 

He turned back and looked at me, winked quickly, gave me a smile, and then 
let his hand drop down between my legs. 

I felt his fingers swiftly slide up beneath the material of my bathing suit, 
and I quickly brought my hands to the waistband to pull it down. 

I was shaking. My legs were growing weak. I couldn't think clearly anymore, 
and I didn't want to. I was being driven, and the forces that were acting on 
me were strange, new. They were things that I'd felt before, but never this 
directly, never this forcefully. I was going out of my mind, and I loved it 
... but I was afraid of it too. 

Then, his fingers touched my clit. He knew exactly what he was doing to me. 

I watched him studying my face ... watched the grin slowly appear as he 
looked at my eyes, at the shape of my lips ... as he started to press harder 
and harder against my clit. 

I guess what surprised me most was the fact that he'd been so gentle. I 
expected someone that large to just plow ahead and rape me, but he was being 
very considerate, almost kind. 

But he knew what he was doing, and he knew what he wanted to do. 

I felt his fingers starting to press against the rim of my hole, stretching 
it more than it ordinarily was used to being stretched. 

He slipped a second finger between my lips, and then a third, but he only 
left them buried up to the first knuckle. 

Then, he slowly began to open his fingers, not far, and not fast, but 
definitely was stretching the hole. 

"Easy," I said softly, the rest of the room no longer real to me, "I'm a 
virgin." 

"I know," he said. 

I didn't even see Barry. I don't know what he was doing during this, and I 
gave no thought to what might happen if my brother happened to wake up while 
Moose had his hands up my cunt. 

"How did you know that I was a virgin?" I asked. 

"Your brother told us," he replied. "And I must say, I've been looking 
forward to meeting you." 

The polite tone oof voice fit his large presence about as well as a tu-tu. 

I closed my eyes again, and started to shiver, visibly now. I felt his 
fingers all over my cunt. 

He knew how to coax the strongest sensations from me, and I had to admit 
that I was feeling things that I'd never before known that it was possible 
to feel. But the most delicious thing about it was the fact that he simply 
didn't have any problems with knowing what to do ... and he didn't have to 
ask me what to do. I was sick of clumsy, inexperienced boys, who knew less 
about fucking than I did. I was grateful at last to find a man who just did 
it. He didn't need questions. He didn't need permission. 

He just did it. 

I spread my legs a little. 

I was naked. My body still had an oily feeling from lying in the sun. He 
unzipped his pants. I thought my God! No bed. No soft lights. No music! He's 
just going to ball me right here in the living room. 

And he did ... Oh GOD! how he did. 

I was lost, I was dreaming. My mind was mush, and so was my body. He pulled 
out his cock, and I could only gasp. 

"No," I said, frightened, It's never going to fit" 

"Trust me," he said, placing the glans up against my lips. 

He began to rub it up and down through my slit, pressing a little further 
every time he crossed over the hole. 

"Oh...." I moaned, "Oh ... oh ... oh ... oh...." 

He started to split my hole now. My juices were everywhere ... they were 
flowling madly ... furiously, they wouldn't stop. 

"Oh ... oh ... oh ... oh ... oh ... oh...." I started to moan, crying more 
and more loudly every time. 

"Yes ... yes...." I said then, feeling the unbelievable sensation of his 
cock spreading my cunt wider and wider.... 

My cherry was popped, so there was none of that blood or anything. Just a 
brand new sensation. 

A live cock. 

A stiff cock. 

A cock that knew how to fill me. 

I wrapped my arms around him, he lifted me a little, supporting me against 
the wall, and he began to fuck me. 

Hard, long, sturdy strokes. My cunt was dripping, so there was no friction. 
It just felt wonderful. 

 CONCLUSION 

So. With the conclusion of her tale, we bring to a close this study of 
first-time experiences. 

Rest assured, there are as many variations of the deflowering ritual, as 
there are combinations of participants. But, if you've already had yours, 
tough luck. That's it. There ain't no going back. 

You can, however, obtain half control over someone else's deflowering. So. 
All you horny ladies out there, get yourself a hot young stud who can't keep 
it down, and men, find yourselves a nubile nymphet, and ... the rest is up 
to you. 


THE END
