"Expert Tongue Trippers" - читать интересную книгу автора (Marsh Olivia)

Chapter 1

The Age of Aquarii

"Well, I'm not sure that 'oral generation' would be the most apt sobriquet in the sense that the 'silent generation' was in the fifties. Myself, I'd use something parallel-and it might have psychological significance-like the 'vocal generation.' Now, maybe there is some Freudian or Jungian or Reichian or Horneyesque connection to be made between vocal nonconformity and the increased acceptance of, and indulgence in, oral gratification. But I tend to think of any modern sexual behavior and practices as simply part of an overall socio-political enlightenment that is taking place, part of the general revolution or evolution that is carrying us into the age of Aquarius.

"As far as sexual things go, as you've pointed out, I do have a couple hang-ups in that area. Nothing serious, I like to think. But if I get off the track or embroider things, you just have to realize that I'm an Aquarius, and, according to my girl friend all Aquarians are interested in just about everything. They're also supposed to be ahead of their time, but I don't know about that. I just got interested in astrology myself.

"Take this groovy chick I ran into a couple weeks ago, I was in this bar, see, on Santa Monica Boulevard-or was it Wilshire?-and this kind of dingy broad skates up to me at the bar and says, I'm celebrating my birthday. My name's Gail, and I'm twenty-one years old today.'

"She was a bit soused, and she kept looking at me with these gorgeous brown and gray eyes flecked with gold, and they kept wandering and going out of focus. All I did was say that was nice and happy birthday. I glanced over at her friends, or at least the group she'd been with, to see if any guy had his eye on her. You can kind of tell if some guy is keeping a really close eye on a chick, and if he seems to be the possessive type or the aggressive type, I make it a rule to leave the chick alone because I don't need that kind of hassle, you know.

"When it seemed that no one was gonna be aggressive, I mean when it seemed like everyone was friendly, I asked this broad if I could buy her a birthday drink. Like, she was just standing there next to me, her head tilted to one side and her eyes swimming with these gold flecks, and a beautiful, dimpled, shit-eating, radiant smile on her face. So I'm just being sociable and friendly right? Right.

" ‘I'd love a Black Russian,' she said, her eyes sparkling into focus for the first time. I noticed that her smile was not really shit-eating, wasn't toothy or garish enough. Tongue-tempting is what it was, tongue-tempting. Yes, I wanted to lick her mouth, especially the comers where the tasty saliva gathers. She had that kind of a turn-on smile.

"'How about a blond German?' I quipped, always one to use the light approach with a new chick.

"'I knew it, I knew it,' she said, jumping up and down with just her shoulders. 'You're an Aquarius!'

"Now, I am familiar enough with astrology to know that I am indeed an Aquarius, with the sign of the water bearer-a cornucopias fountain of joy, I like to think, for any woman who goes to bed with me. But how this kookie girl could figure me for an Aquarius just by the first thing out of my mouth was too much for me.

"'How did you figure that out?' I asked.

"She smiled her secret-sharer smile and said, 'I'm a Libra,' as if that was supposed to explain everything. Her birthday is October 15. She explained that her sign is scales, like the scales of justice. She said how Libras were always supposed to be weighing and balancing things and taking a long time to make up their minds, and all that shit.

"All the time she was rapping me with this astrology crap, I had ample opportunity to do some weighing and judging of my own. She had an interesting, pleasant face, animated, as was the rest of her body when she spoke. Of course, that might have been simply because she was kind of stoned. Her body, her overall form and figure, struck me as being a Renaissance body… no, not so much Renaissance as classic Greek.

"Yeah, that's it. Even her hair-long, lustrous black tresses, was Grecian. Under her rather tight violet sweater, her bosom was full without being bulgy or gross. I remember the sweater being violet because I thought I could detect a faint brownish hue where her nipples were. She wore no bra-that I could tell for sure.

"Another thing I remember was that, although her upper trunk and her hips and thighs were full and firm, she didn't have the narrow, almost wasp-waisted abdomen I usually find so sexy in chicks. Her waist was not petite, but… comfortable was the word that came to mind. I guessed that her belly button must lie nestled vulnerably in a gentle, fleshy furrow in her stomach.

"Her ass. Aaah, now the ass! The ass is a portion of female anatomy of which I consider myself a connoisseur. Her ass was firmly encased in tan jeans that presented a gently rounded, pear-shaped paraboloid of glutei maxima. Mind you, it was not a very pear-shaped ass, like some. It didn't hang down and bobble around when she walked. It had much of the succulent contour of your apple ass, which is my favorite. Your average pear-shaped ass, at least on the mature woman, tends to be a bit too pendulous for my taste.

"Now, the thighs, to my mind, are just about the most important item of a woman's body. And I liked the way Gail's jeans snugged around her thighs. I could see the way the small knolls of inner thigh mounded gently out of her crotch. God! that little item always turns me on. It means that, when I've got my face pressed up against the warm flesh of the girl's crotch, those hot, moist pads of thigh are pressing on my cheeks and ears. And when they start to tighten up and tremble and quiver, it's one of the sure signs that she's on the brink of a nice, deep orgasm. Gail's were my kind of thighs.

"'… impossible for a Libra,' she was saying. 'Even when I know all the choices thoroughly and have weighed them again and again, I still find it almost impossible to make up my mind.' She had a funny, throaty way of pronouncing her r's that intrigued me. She kind of drrew them out, like she was feeling them in her throat before they got to her mouth. I wondered what she could do to my dick.

"'So, I kept debating as I was looking at you.' She went on endlessly. It was near two and the bar was about to close. I wondered if I should buy her another birthday drink and split. '… and I decided that if that nice-looking guy at the bar was an Aquarius I'd just have to overcome my shyness enough-'

"'Another Black Russian?' I asked. 'Last call.'

"'-to ask him straight out if he would please eat my pussy.'

"My thoughts froze; the jukebox at that instant cut off, so there was no doubt about what I'd heard.

"'Especially if he was an Aquarius.' Two couples at the bar were staring at us with jellied expressions on their faces. Their smiles crumbled and they quickly began talking about the fabulous corned-beef sandwiches they'd eaten.

"'I'd be delighted,' I said, missing only a few beats of our conversation. Then the thought of corned beef prompted me, for some inexplicable reason, to ask Gail if she was Jewish.

"'My God, what difference does that make?' The pupils surfaced lazily in her eyes. 'You're not a Nazi, are you?' she purred. 'Nothing wrong with a little kosher crotch, is there?'

"I assured her that kosher crotch was indeed a delicacy that I could rarely refuse if it was offered tastefully and with the right garnish. I also asked her how she had managed to read my mind and if that was a common thing with Libras. Come to think of it, I believe I also told her that, to my knowledge, I had never eaten any Libra pussy, kosher or not.

"Well that seemed to turn her on for some reason. She closed her eyes, her mouth trembled and her knees did an imperceptible jig. 'God,' she moaned. ‘I've never had an Aquarius suck my pussy. And here it is the age of Aquarius. "When the moon… " 'she sang, and then stopped abruptly. 'My God,' she said, ‘we've got to see what the moon is like tonight.' And she grabbed my hand and ran out the door with me.

"There was a slight overcast, or the moon was behind trees or something, because we never did get to see it. We started kissing immediately, deep, wet kisses with lots of tongue. She somehow got her mouth wrapped around my lower lip and scrunched it up and sucked on it till I thought I was gonna have a hickey.

"We unmeshed our mouths and tumbled into my little Austin Healey Sprite. She thought it was cute, and I was thankful for the gearshift which allowed my hand to take side excursions along her thighs and abdomen. Hell, I had ‘four on the floor' and a couple extra just about seat level.

"'I dig your shifting," she told me.

" ‘My shifting digs you.'

"As I had surmised from my visual mapping of her shape, her thighs were indeed full and solidly spongy. At the top of her thighs, where the jeans made a tight vee in her crotch, I could feel the heat and humidity generated by her pussy. Right along the hard seam I felt the pulpy damp of her cunt lips, compressed under the warm denim, absolutely vibrant against my probing fingers.

"'Hoo, ga-a-a-ah,' she warbled. I pressed my hand more firmly into the arch of her jeans as the spiral volutes of her Ionic thighs quivered against my hand.

"'Ha-a-agh, hm-m-mh,' I sighed. The bulge in my own pants was becoming quite noticeable, at least to me. Her hand rested lightly on the shaft that lengthened down my pants leg. We lovingly fondled each other's privates for the mile or so we had to go to her pad. God, I can tell you, I hated to shift out of fourth.

"We drove silently, each musing on his own- her own? My thought was mainly how I'd like to mulch my mouth over her cunt: mulch her pubic hair and thick labia with the hot flesh of my mouth and tongue; gently macerate her pubes with drool. I spent a few salutary moments contemplating the prospect of mushing over a kosher Grecian Libra cunt.

"Fascinating. Like the fragrance of a very private nosegay, attar of pussy wafted by my nostrils.

"As we pulled up in front of her apartment building, I adjusted my aching hard on. 'You'll have to tell me all about this horoscope business,' I said by way of idle chatter. I had to take a hell of a piss. I stamped my feet and rubbed my hands as though from the night chill, but in reality to keep my bladder from springing a leak. And talking helped.

"When we got inside, I saw with sudden impatience, that she had a roommate who was entertaining three guests. I'm not sure if the impatience was because our hitting the sack would be delayed or because I had to stop and say hello before I could make a dash for the head. One good thing was that there was groovy music playing on the hi-fi and the lights were turned romantically low.

"It turned out I didn't have to worry at all about there being guests. Gail had her own bedroom. When I came out of the bathroom, announced with a flourish of flushing toilet, she motioned me into her room. Alone at last.

"She'd loosened her belt and undone her jeans so they were comfortably loose and flappy around her waist, and she was stretched out on her king-size bed listening to Blood, Sweat and Tears. She wore a very thin tie-dyed shirt, and I noted that over each breast there was a rose-colored star effect. That must've been what made me think she was braless I figured. But, no, she said, she'd just now put it on because it was comfortable. Under the pink roses, her nipples obtruded emphatically.

"I was both glad and sorry that I'd taken my piss. Sorry because I knew the sight of those up-thrusting tits would've sent a tingle through my dick; happy because I also knew that my dick wouldn't be able to take many tingles before it shot all over the place. And it has been my experience that when chicks get eaten they like it to be a long drawn-out process, a little prelude, a little seduction, and lots of the nitty-gritty-lots of tongue and lip action.

"Through the unzipped gap in Gail's jeans I could see a white wedge of sheer, tight panties, and under them a clearly visible line of black, curly pubic hair. That kept the old tingle going in my cock quite enough to keep it from going completely limp. Every once in a while she smiled and gave a lazy undulation of her belly and thighs. That made the old cock twitch.

"'Shit!' she exclaimed whenever that happened. And the first time, she added, ‘I really like to watch that thing jump. It gets my juices going.' She undulated again, I twitched, she cooed with delight. We just sat there that way for a couple minutes, looking at each other, getting our juices going.

"'Hot cock,' she mused once or twice, 'I love the feel of hot cock in my mouth.'

"I began to feel a bit self-conscious, not because of our genital-centered meditation, but because I was sure her roommate and her friends could hear us in the next room. I mentioned my concern.

" ‘They went outside. Sandy likes to blow guys outdoors at night.' Gail was sipping a glass of port wine, and reclining there on her pillow-fluffed king-size bed, she looked like a hot-lipped houri. I felt a charge of exquisite dissoluteness begin to grow in me.

"Gail saw the lust suffuse my face. She slipped her jeans farther down on her hips. 'Sandy says there's just something about the effects of the stars and the moonlight that simply inspires her to extraordinary efforts.' She leered. Her hips seemed to undulate, or maybe it was my eyes. It was discombobulating.

"'Damn, I'm getting hot,' I said. I undid my own belt and trousers, damn near snagging the zipper in the process. I slid my hands flat under the band of my shorts. That seemed to relieve a little of the pressure that was building up in my groin. My rod rose comfortably against the unconstraining cloth of the shorts.

"Leering, somehow virginally, and with a twinkle in her eye that showed she appreciated my situation, Gail began to unbutton her shirt. Slowly she revealed creamy inches of flesh from the waistband of her panties to the collar of her shirt, as if she was pulling aside the slow curtain on a show. When three or four inches of midstage were unveiled, revealing enticing swells of breast and dimple of navel, she turned her attention to her jeans. Slowly, again, she pushed the snug things down to her knees, over her ankles, and stepped out of them. I thought I could detect her nipples peeking around her shirt.

"Then, as she stood there poised in her full, tapering legs, her milk-white flesh centering my attention on the magnetic core of her lushly haired twat, she threw her shoulders back and slowly dropped the shirt to the floor. I whimpered, seized with desire.

"Shit, she may not have had the biggest tits in the world, but she sure knew how to display them. They were high, firm, with rosy, candy-apple tips the size of a silver dollar, where the nipples, nestled warmly in the pink flesh, began to stand up proudly. They rounded into solid flesh that tapered slightly to her trim hips. Her navel, as I somehow knew it would, showed itself just the right size and depth to accommodate an inch of my tongue tip.

"My cock sprang rigid through the fly of my shorts.

"'Oooh!' she exclaimed. She stepped quickly to the hi-fi tuner, her eyes glued to my erect joint as she fiddled for a knob. 'We simply have to turn up Joe Cocker.' With her Madonna-like visage intact, she leered.

" ‘I'll give you Joe Cocker,' I said, flexing my hard on. 'Pretty soon this cocker is going to sing happy birthday to your cunter.' I was getting a tight feeling in my chest.

"'Grroovy-poo,' she chimed. 'But not till after we…'

"'No, no,' I hastened to say. 'First things first, definitely.' I'm not a guy who likes to suck a pussy full of come. 'First it will be I who will sing happy birthday, dear pussy. Aquarius tongue celebrating the coming of age of Libra twat.'

"'God,' she moaned. 'I have never been so turned on by an Aquarius in my life.' She turned up the gain on the bass. 'And Aquarii always turn me on.' There was a palpable hum in the hair.

"I couldn't stand it anymore. I tore off my shirt and pants, my underwear, my socks. I let my red, raging hard on bounce free. It was all I could do to keep my hands off flesh-hers or mine, I didn't care.

"With a final flick of the bass knob she said, 'There are very interesting things that can be done with speakers on hi-fi systems. We'll have to try some of them before the night is over.'

"'Shit! Woman.' I bleated. 'Here I am getting light-headed because all the blood is rushing to my cock, and you stand there naked as a jaybird, twiddling dials on your goddamn tuner and talking about frequency response or some goddamn thing!' I felt neglected. 'Let's have a little frequency response in this direction.'

"My outburst seemed to trigger a responsive chord in her-or maybe it was one of Joe Cocker's sexy lyrics-and she kind of pirouetted from the hi-fi with her tongue lolling in her half-open mouth.

"'Mmmm, God, that's a turn-on, that is.' She skipped to the bed and threw herself on it. 'Good shit: Aquarii are better than dope.' Her thighs rolled apart and she dug her toes into the shag rug and pulled on the tufts. 'And you, my love, are the turningest-on Aquarius I have ever met.'

"Shit, I thought, if astrology turns her on I'll play her silly little game. Only, maybe it wasn't so silly, because I hadn't had such a raging, raw-meat hard on in years. My damn cock stuck out like a fucking telephone pole.

"Gail, naturally, had something to do with the overall effect. Lying there with her firm, rose-tipped breasts heaving and her round, meating thighs framing a well-muscled belly and a cunt cushioned with an impressive mat of fine, black, glistening hair, she was mouth-watering. As I walked slowly toward the bed, I could read the invitation, the yearning, in her eyes.

"I drank in the vision of that mounded belly, those built-to-enfold thighs, the padded hillocks of her hipbones. But my gaze was soon fixed on the lush triangle of curled black hair through which I glimpsed the folded petals of her cunt lips.

"'You want the light out?' I asked as I sank to my knees. I was close enough to smell the natural fragrance of her flesh-like a fresh-picked melon in a field of flax. There was a tiny pulse in her groin.

"'Oh no. No,' she said. She had the softest, loveliest smile on her face I've ever seen. 'I want to watch. I want to see everything.' The gold flecks in her eyes sparkled.

"I ran my fingers slowly, softly over her thighs and along her groin until the fingertips just touched the soft edge of the lustrous thatch of hair. Then down the warm, waxen furrows to the firm pillows of her buttocks. I cupped each cushion of flesh in my hands and brought my face slowly toward her muff. The scent was wild, honey and almonds.

"I took a deep breath. Our eyes locked.

"'Happy birthday, Gail.'

"She smiled radiantly.

"'Happy birthday, Libra cunt.' I placed my mouth firmly on the succulent petals. Warm. They melted in my mouth, on either side of my tongue.

"The sob she sighed was heavenly music to my ears. It stirred me to concentrated, concerted action; every fiber of my body, every cell of my brain focused on sucking, licking, tonguing, eating cunt like I'd never eaten it before.

"Her hands flew to the back of my head, her thighs trembled, closed firmly over my ears, drowning out all sound but the inner noises of my tongue sloshing and plapping deep in viscid, musky cunt. Every now and again I could feel, more than hear, Gail's moans and sobs racking her body.

"I gripped her buttocks more tightly and felt her torso lift off the bed. I buried my face more deeply in her sopping muff. My nose pressed her clitoris and my chin touched her asshole. I pushed my tongue into her vagina and probed the jellied walls.

"She humped forward, so hard I had to pull my lips over my teeth, and heaved an ecstatic sigh. Her buttocks tightened and trembled, her thighs pitched and flapped on my cheeks. With a cry of joy and release, she came, a rush of juice and honey warming my tongue and lips. Again and again, she bucked and twisted, moaned and sobbed.

"'Oh God! Oh fuck! Oh shit!' She babbled and sobbed deliriously. She humped and rocked. Her entire crotch shivered and twitched and turned into a hot, musky swamp. Her labia quivered around my dancing tongue, clamped on it like a soft-shelled oyster, drawing me in. 'Hot fu-u-u-u-uck!' She rasped a final sigh and collapsed."

The operative word in this case is communication. Young people everywhere are striving to communicate with each other and the world around them-even with their parents. It is the lack of communication which creates the so-called generation gap.

Bernard Barber points out in his essay Three Human Females (an analysis of the Kinsey report) that communication actually depends upon much more than sex (the biological factor). Dr. Barber approached the study of human behavior in the following way:

Above all things, in the analysis of human behavior of any kind we must free ourselves of the biologistic fallacy. All human behavior has three inherent and inter-related aspects: the biological, the psychological, and the social. We must seek to discover the relative share of influence that each has on any given kind of human behavior. This relative share will vary for different kinds of behavior, though no aspect will ever be totally unimportant. To see that the psychological and social aspects are significant is not to deny the biological influence. We must, of course, avoid also the psychologistic and sociologistic fallacies. The biological, the psychological and the social aspects of man's behavior interwork from birth, even from conception, onwards. Society alone makes it possible for man to realize his biological nature. Without society, as Hobbs showed so well, there would be only the war of all against all, and there would be no ordered sexual or any other kind of human behavior.

A strong factor in A's case is the emphasis placed upon astrology. The recent interest in this ancient art may be observed in the same three-fold manner described by Barber in his analysis.

First, in the psychological realm: Al regards himself as an Aquarian, uses this information for ego satisfaction. A person born under this sign, he points out, is "ahead of his time," superior, etc. He uses this knowledge as a basis for favorable comparison, for sexual confidence, and so on. Also, to a lesser degree, he attempts to really understand himself through astrology.

Second, let us take a look at the sociologic factor. The astrological "rap" is a significant "icebreaker" for both sexes. It is for the male a refinement of the worn-out gambit of "come up and see my etchings." The Aquarian Casanova says, "Let me do your chart." For the female, astrological knowledge is an updating of the old "dropping the handkerchief ploy-somehow not suitable to the demands of our instant-sex culture. If the girl is really good, as Gail appears to be in this case, she can actually "guess the sign," worth a few extra points on the social stock market.

The third factor is the biological aspect. It is here that the unconscious desires for communication are most apparent. It is not simply sexual attraction that prompts both partners, but, specifically, the need for mouth-genital contact. Previously, it was thought by experts (such as Van De Velde, previously cited) that the active partner enjoyed no physical pleasures during oral sex, but rather enjoyed the psychological satisfaction of pleasing the other person. However, Kinsey points out that this is not necessarily the case; in fact a good deal of physical satisfaction is attained by the active participant. Here is what Kinsey says:

The lips, tongue, and whole interior of the mouth constitute or could constitute for most individuals an erogenous area of nearly as great significance as the genitalia. Erotic arousal always involves the entire nervous system, and there appears to be some oral response whenever there is a sexual arousal. Most uninhibited individuals become quite conscious of their oral responses, particularly if they accepted deep kissing, mouth-breast contacts, or mouth-genital contacts as part of their sexual play.

It is significant that both parties in this case showed a considerable degree of sexual adjustment, and the desire to give as much satisfaction to the other as they wished to receive for themselves.

"Well, after a great come like that-I mean, after bringing someone so much pleasure-I was perfectly content to sit around for a few minutes and bathe in the vicarious glow of somebody else's satisfaction. Gail stretched like a cat and smiled and purred while the sheen of perspiration dried on her breasts and thighs. She rubbed her hands over her belly, over her limbs and pubic mound, enjoying feeling sensuous.

"'My God, I came good,' she said. 'You have a beautiful, wicked mouth, and my cunt loves it.'

"'My tongue sort of has a crush on your cunt, too,' I said. 'You have a beautiful, voracious twat, and I love ever pubic inch of it.'

"'Oooh,' she shivered deliciously, then grew mock serious. 'But now my tits,' she said, surveying the flushed, melon-firm globes, ‘are jealous.' She pouted at me. 'You'll have to kiss them, or they'll never forgive you.'

"Well, I can tell you, I was delighted. I mean, this was a delightful chick. Or maybe it was just that, being thirty-one, I was jaded-had forgotten what it was like to be young or even twenty-one and fucking. I thought back to my own callow youth, and, by God, I do remember being flushed and giddy after a good lay-none of this post-coital sadness shit.

"So I panted over to the bed, like a puppy, and lapped at the tangy flesh. There's something about a girl's body after she's had a good orgasm. It seems to me to have a slightly salty, slightly milky savor to it. I ran my tongue over each breast, taking special care to taste along the tiny crease underneath. Gail's breasts were so firm there was hardly any sag to them, and, consequently, more of an indentation rather than a crease. Enough to hold a tasty runnel of sweat.

"I lingered there, sucking, nibbling, until her labored breathing and erect nipples told me she was warming up fast. Then I concentrated my attention on the juicy, firm, raisinlike nipples, erect and just asking to be sucked. First the left one, then the right-I nipped and licked them till they were standing up a good half inch. That's another thing I dig about some chicks-Gail's one of them. They stay at a high level of horniness, even after they've had an orgasm. Maybe I should say especially after they've had an orgasm. They kind of enjoy lying there in a pool of their own juices. And it's nice to work them up to a good plateau of excitement.

"I was succeeding very well at that; my mouth open as far as I could open it to vacuum in her whole left tit, laving the nipple with the tip of my tongue-when what should I hear but a lilting, sonorous voice from the doorway.

"'Well, la-de-da-doo-day.' It was so unexpected, I got caught so much by surprise, that I didn't even bother to unmouth Gail's tit when I cast my glance toward the door. 'Looks like someone is expecting a famine.' Slouching sexily against the doorway was Sandy, back from her outdoor fun and games. 'You don't have to worry about going hungry as long as Gail and I are around.'

"Without further ado, Sandy walked into the middle of the room and threw open her trench coat, under which she was wearing only a pair of brief black-lace panties. As if that wasn't enough, the real kicker was the gorgeous set of knockers she revealed. They were almost as shapely as Gail's, and about four sizes larger. At first I thought they might've been plastic-you know, injections of silicone, because they didn't seem to swing and sway like normal breasts.

"But the absolute no-end kicker, the non plus ultra, was the great, sticky mass of semen that lay in globs between her tits, globs and ropes. 'You see all this beautiful, rich come?' she beamed. 'All this high-protein jizz?' She was positively radiant and euphoric. ‘I hated to let it, so to speak, go to waste, but Jack insisted he had to get his nuts off between my tits.' She rubbed the creamy stuff around like lotion on her breasts and nipples. 'But it has a groovy emollient feeling to it. Full of softening vitamin things. I'm sure.' She licked her fingers.

"'But George and Fred,' she continued dreamily. 'George and Fred both dropped fantastic loads right down my throat.' She licked her lips reflectively, and her eyes ran over my body, stopping to edify themselves on my erect whang, which by now was so thunderingly excited it never ceased throbbing.

"With her eyes still riveted to my middle, she said, 'Gail, I presume, has plans for that yummy-looking morsel. What with the moon being the way it is.' Her gaze shifted to Gail's still soggy crotch. 'I see you've been treating her old wazoo right. What with the moon and all. I can tell by the knocked-out, glazed look in her eyes. You must have some technique.'

"An even more radiant smile crossed her features. 'Hey,' she said. 'Has Gail showed you our groovy speaker with the twelve-pound magnet?' Her eyes lighted up.

"'I was going to,' Gail said, 'but he thought I was talking about only the sound that came out of it. I haven't showed him what a versatile little goody it is.' She got up off the bed slowly and switched on a button on the tuner, which turned on a speaker I hadn't noticed before, a huge Altec-Lansing. No speaker enclosure, no nothing almost, except the magnet and the diaphragm, or whatever you call it. But it gave out some fantastic rumbling bass notes. Hell, she put on a record with a lot of tympani in it, and the bass sound was enough to set your teeth rattling.

"'You want to be first, Sandy? You look as though you could use a little stimulation.' Gail had the speaker in her hand and was making gestures with it. I was having a tough time figuring out what was going on.

"'Ooh, wow,' Sandy said. 'You've got to see this. This is really a giggle.' With a kind of a hop and a jump, she was out of her panties and sitting on the bed, her legs wide apart.

"I saw immediately why she was called Sandy. She wore her hair in a kind of a soft helmet style, close to the head, and it was a burnished, buff-honey color. Her pubic hair, it kind of bunched up naturally in a blondish tussock, not quite so lavishly as Gail's, but where Gail's shone was a jet sheen, Sandy's glinted with a saffron effulgence.

"Not that I have a bias, a preference for sandy hair as opposed to black hair. As a matter of fact, I kind of liked Gail's, maybe because of the tasty firmness of the meat underneath the hair. But there was something fascinating about the play of red and gold in Sandy's crotch.

"The fascinating thing about Gail's body, among other things, was the sexy color scheme of her breasts-what I can only describe in the fanciful phrase of alabaster veined with lapis lazuli. Sandy didn't have that, although there were a few veins along her thighs and abdomen. I don't know why that kind of thing turns me on. Maybe because for me it signifies that the chick is especially sensitive where the veins are near the surface.

"Well, I was digging on all these things, grooving on the differences and comparisons, while all the time I was trying to figure out how the hell that damn speaker was going to fit into the action. Gail had it and was dancing around with it like it was a prop in some modern dance scene. I noticed it was shaped like a flattened horn, about eight inches along the arc and maybe three or four inches thick. I also noted that they had stretched a piece of rubber over the horn.

"I began to get the idea of how the speaker was to be used when Gail teasingly pressed it to her tits and gave a 'Nh-nh-nhhh' squeal about three octaves up from the bass note that the tympani was rumbling out. She pressed the tightly stretched rubber diaphragm-type thing against each nipple and ran it slowly along her inner thighs.

" 'Okay, Gail,' Sandy said, 'that's enough of a buildup. I'm hornier than six cows in heat.' She shifted her hips around sexily on the edge of the bed. 'Estrus is my middle name.' She rubbed at the semen on her breasts. It had dried to a thick flour-and-water consistency.

"'The grooviest sensation I ever had,' said Gail, untangling the speaker wire so it would reach from the tuner to the bed, 'was when I put on a record by Kris Kristofferson. Shit, when he sang "Me and Bobby McGee" it was simply too much.'

"•'Just stop gabbing,' Sandy said, 'and give me that Altec-Lansing. I'll settle for Beethoven's Ninth.' She seized the speaker eagerly and pressed it to her lower abdomen. 'God, the way I feel Pd settle for a harp rendition of "Greensleeves."'She pulled her knees up almost against her shoulders and rocked the arc of the speaker over her crotch, giving special attention to her anal area and her clit nestled in the pink vulvae. 'O-o-oh, wahoo!' she groaned. 'Goddamn, this feels so good there's got to be something sinful about it.'

"'Speaking of sinful,' said Gail, 'the time I got such a kick out of "Me and Bobby McGee" I was over at Margot and Susannah's and we were all pretty well stoned on high-grade Michoacan. Too bad we don't have a couple joints around.' She came over to where I was sitting on a chair at the dressing table and rubbed her silky snatch hair over my shoulder.

"'Tell me, Aquarius, you who are the harbinger of this new age, is smoking grass and having Kris Kristofferson singing into your pussy-is that sinful, particularly if you're doing both at the same time?'

"Well, shit, let me tell you I was feeling a little ambivalent. On the one hand there was this sylphlike pink and saffron Sandy getting her pussy all creamy with an Altec-Lansing speaker with a twelve-pound magnet. Now, how the hell would that grab you? On the other hand here was raven-tressed Gail with her ravensdown snatch pressed damn near against my cheek, asking me my philosophy for the 'new age.' I mean, I've been in some kinky situations before, but this was one in which all my cool and savoir faire seemed somehow beside the point.

"So I said, 'Look, Gail, honey, sweetheart, baby, I, uh, either I'm at this moment beyond good and evil, or I'm not up to it. I dunno which.' As if in assent, my stiff cock throbbed vigorously. 'I mean, I've been watching Sandy over there on the bed go all glassy eyed with nothing but an inanimate rubber hummer for intimate company. To tell you the truth, my taste buds are eager to try a little of that pussy over there. You might say they're jealous.'

"Sandy, over on the bed, though, was not too glassy eyed to catch the gist of what I was saying. She cried out over the crescendos of music, 'Holy shit, yes!' Her gaze fixed me in a demented dance.

"'Good God, no! Wait.' Gail at that precise moment took a firm but, thank heaven, relaxed grip on my aching hard on. 'Your cock reminds me of a funny story.'

"'Let him go,' Sandy yelled. 'I'd even give up Beethoven's Ninth for a real live tongue.'

" 'Not until I tell the funny story his cock reminds me of,' returned Gail.

"'Lemme go,' I groaned. 'My mouth is dying for a taste of that juicy twat!'

" 'Here, have a tit-just for a minute. You can't hear the story if you've got your ears buried between thighs.'

"Gail presented me with a succulent morsel of breast, not, incidentally, obscuring my view of Sandy's palpitating labia. At the same moment, she ran a sensual hand over my scrotum and down to my asshole.

"'When I was over at Margot's one time,'-it sounded like the beginning of 'Goldilocks and the Three Bears'-'she told me a story that cracked me up.'

" 'Louder!' I said over the noise of the chorus.

"'Margot told me a funny story!' Her hand caressed my balls expertly. 'She was dancing topless in San Francisco a couple years ago-or maybe it was North Beach. Yeah, that was it.'

"'Shit! Don't play with my cock too much.'

"Sandy, I noticed, had three fingers deep in her cunt and was rapidly covering much of her thighs with glistening juices.

"'Anyway,' Gail continued, 'the manager came up to her and asked her if she knew this guy in the front row. See, she'd been talking to him earlier. So she said-'

" 'Talk louder or turn the goddamn volume down!' I screamed.

" ‘-she said yes, why? And they said, because he's sitting in the front row masturbating-'

" 'Don't play with my dick!'

" '-and she said, Oh, this is too funny-he's my psychiatrist.'

"'Cunt,' I gasped. 'I've got to have cunt!'

"I managed to get free of Gail and scuttle over to where Sandy's inviting thighs and crotch beckoned. Her eyes were searing slits in her face. Hot, hot, hot.

"Gail followed. 'Didn't you think that was a funny story?' she asked a little querulously. 'You're an Aquarius, and every Aquarius I've told that story to thinks it's hilarious.'

" 'Yes, yes,' I said, pulling Sandy's fingers from her cooze, ‘but Beethoven's Ninth has always turned me on something awful. I need cunt!'

"'Of course we were stoned when she told me-Margot and I.'

"'Oh, God, suck my cunt!" Sandy's outburst left no doubt as to her need.

" ‘I wish we had a couple joints. That would-‘ Gail stopped abruptly. 'Good heavens! What am I thinking?' I felt caressing fingertips on my tight scrotum. Inhaling deeply, I ran the broad plane of my tongue lovingly over Sandy's inner thigh, savoring the tart, musky oils.

"'How silly of me.' Gall's voice came from a distance, far from the shining pink thighs and trembling cunt lips that drew my attention. But her grazing hands and warm breath were exciting and immediate. 'I've got a magnificent joint right here.' Her fingers stroked delightfully. I felt a drop of fluid well out of my cock.

"At the same instant, I opened my mouth wide and fastened it gingerly onto Sandy's damp, sinewy inner thigh, I felt an incredibly warm and voluptuous sensation spread from the tip, from the sticky drop on the tip of my penis and envelop, as it seemed, the whole region of my cock and balls. I strained my eyes to one side to see what the hell was happening without loosening my gently suctioning oral grip on Sandy's thigh.

"'God, what a marvelous joint,' Gail murmured. 'Beats grass any day.' She ran her mouth down the entire length again, with one hand rubbing the spittle around on my balls and clear down to my asshole. 'The poor thing. How could I have neglected him for so long?'

" 'My cunt, my cunt!' hissed Sandy. 'My cunt is feeling terribly neglected.' I tore my gaze away from the fantastic mouth work taking place on my privates.

"Sandy's cunt and asshole, her whole crotch, from clit to base of her backbone, was absolutely pulsating, rhythmically expanding and contracting like a large oyster in saltwater shallows. It seemed to hold a mystic fascination for me. Perhaps because Gail was sucking my cock like a limpet.

"I trailed my tongue in a wet, erratic pattern up Sandy's thigh and stopped at the heated, pulpy flesh of labia major to lick and probe with my tongue. I slid my mouth over the firm inner lips and sucked gently, drawing them into my mouth. With my tongue, I licked and pulled them out of the salty, musky crevices and flicked them around.

"In contrast to Gail's dark, grotiolike cunt, Sandy's tasted like-maybe I'm not completely accurate on this-like a pomegranate. Soft, juicy, dappled pink and red flesh. And the erect clit could've been a solid seed. All I know is that those hot lips of her cunt tasted to me like crepes suzette-butter and rum and a hint of wild black raspberries.

"Sandy's hands gripped the back of my head, and, entwining her fingers in my hair, she pushed my face hard into her soggy snatch. Her thighs closed over my cheeks and ears. But not before I heard Gail begin to breathe fast and heavy as she pistoned her firm lips up and down the rigid shaft of my dick. The last thing I heard was: 'A joint like this is a work of art. It should hang in the Louvre.'

"'No, not hang,' Sandy interposed weakly, 'be erected.'

"On that note of immortality, that intimation of erection, Sandy's firm thighs closed over my ears. Her cunt made a 'squooshing' noise and seemed to wrap itself around at least half my face. I pushed my tongue in until the root hurt, lapping all the tasty curves and bumps I could reach with it.

"Gail was doing a fantastic job on my dick. Her mouth pumped up and down, her lips applied varying pressure, her tongue flapped and swirled along the length of my gorged whang. I felt a gentle pressure on my asshole and damn near blew the whole scene, so to speak, by letting go with a fart. But before I had a chance to embarrass myself, I felt a long, thick finger slide silkily up my anus. Gently, slowly, it entered, and fluttered deepen my fundament.

"Fuck, it felt like my hard on swelled another inch in length and maybe another in girth. I could feel my heart beat from my temples to my balls. Gail was sucking happily, going, 'Mmm-mmnh mmm-mmnh,' in time with my pulse. Her tongue traced intricate patterns along the swollen veins.

"I was inspired to new efforts on Sandy's cunt. I waggled my head slowly from side to side, curling my tongue and digging into all the succulent flesh I could find. Her ass lifted off the edge of the bed, and I pushed one finger a couple inches along the crevice of her ass and into her anus.

"She went just a little apeshit. Her torso humped off the bed and did a corkscrew bit around my finger, in the process sluicing my tongue and mouth around. She went, 'Ho-hargh! A-a-a-angh!' and I felt palpitations start up in her belly and travel to her vagina and asshole. Her fingertips dug into my scalp, and her pubes whipped against my mouth with teeth-rattling force.

"Gail had wrapped a couple fingers around the base of my dick and was giving small jerking motions on it. Not enough to spoil the electrifying effect of her mouth and tongue, but just enough to send vibrations right into my prostate and start things churning in my gut.

"I reached down with one hand and took firm hold of her tits, one by one, and gave them a few squeezes. Her muffled groans were music to my ears whenever Sandy spread her thighs in her own uncontrollable contortions. I felt Gail's face, the smooth planes of her cheeks and jaws, and felt them tightening, sucking, pursing straining.

"Sandy shouted. 'Oh, my God-hot damn!' Her ass and hips bucked wildly. ‘I'm co-o-om-ing!' And a salt flush covered my lips and chin.

"It felt like a taut wire snapped somewhere in my gut, and a hot gush of semen spurted through my burning cock. Gail gave little squeals of ecstasy while I kneaded her tits. My ass bucked forward again and again, sinking my cock to the depths of her mouth, spewing endless knots of thick, ropy come. Shit, it felt like I was getting all the juice sucked out of me at both ends.

"After frenzied seconds, we all gave a huge sigh and collapsed, mouths still plastered to cock and cunt, fingers still waggling in assholes. I looked at my drained cock, still hard and oozing clear juices. It looked like jerked beef."

It is obvious from Al's reaction that a situation involving the possibilities of group sex seemed beyond his normal range of experience. In fact, he confided that this was actually the first time this had ever occurred, even though he considered himself rather worldly and had numerous affairs before and during his college years.

However, the fact is that more and more young people are experiencing a new sexual awakening that goes beyond anything previously thought probable by such distinguished researchers as Kinsey, Pomeroy, Martin and Gebhard. We are likely to see, judging from the attitudes presented in this case, a complete change in our current concepts of monogamous (one mate for a lifetime) and monogynous (one mate at a time).

It is difficult to assess the overall effect this will have upon Al in his future life. One thing is sure, however, and that is the subject's apparent freedom from some of the usual frustrations and anxiety complexes (such as guilt) which have characterized previous generations.

Our analysis would not be complete if we did not add one cautionary note to the discussion of this case. Pure sexual abandonment does have its drawbacks, and can cause serious psychic disturbances later in life. These feelings are echoed in Van De Velde's Ideal Marriage:

Voluptuous pleasure alone, however refined and varied, cannot bring real happiness, without that solace to the soul which humanity desires, and must forever seek… No person of fine aesthetic insight or emotional nature can think for a moment of winning happiness from sensuality without any psychic element…

Therefore, we must conclude that love without communication (the psychic element) is incomplete, no matter how "liberated" it is thought to be.