Apartment Seven, Please
"The first time I ever saw Brad it was at the pool, that overgrown bathtub we caned a pool, anyway, and immediately I feared and suspected that I was hooked.
"Now don't go tripping out, please, and think I'm laying a love-at-first-sight bit down; I'm no fool and love is one of those grossly magnified four-letter words. I'm twenty-six (yes, I know I don't look it), hip, and I've been around enough to know exactly what I like.
"Also, all the things I don't like, which is at least as important. Heading that list is boredom-a grand and general heading that certainly includes having a husband, children, living in some jerkwater town and all the other by-products of the American Dream Scheme. I left small-town U.S.A. when I was seventeen, in the car of a total stranger who might have turned out to be a murderer, for all I cared, impulsively getting in the new car when it stopped. It turned out that the stranger was a buyer for a big antique shop in Los Angeles, on his way home, and he had this 'thing' for girls with long red hair.
"Los Angeles! Hollywood! Oh, yes, I was down-home enough to sincerely believe they were waiting for me out there. After all, I'd been the lead in a few school plays, I had lucked out with mother nature, what with having the big green eyes, pretty pink skin, and lack of freckles that redheads are rarely lucky enough to get, and I had the kind of body that lost me my innocence before I was fifteen, all curves with the kind of tits and round little ass that just filled a man's big hands. Sure, Hollywood would be waiting open-armed, so I willingly allowed Ken whatever-his-name-was to drive me there with only the clothes on my back!
"Well, Hollywood turned out to be a little different than I'd expected, about the same as it must be for every other pretty girl who arrives full of hopes and youth. I landed there with a few bills, thanks to friend Ken, a modest wardrobe from the same source, and a cunt that ached from being fucked so often along the way that we arrived three days past schedule. Ken belatedly informed me that he had a wife and three kids nearby, deposited me in a crummy apartment-hotel in Hollywood, and split, promising to return in a few nights.
"It took me about an hour to convince the man at the desk that he should give me Ken's money, that I didn't want the lousy room. Finally I used my age to get me what I wanted. I had no intention of seeing Ken again now that I was in Hollywood-he was a link with my drab past, and burning bridges was my thing that week. As I walked along the famous Hollywood Boulevard, the small suitcase banging against my calf, I went to work on the other link-my name. I'd been saddled with May Beth all my life, and it was great fun to slowly wander through the shops and busy streets considering and rejecting new names. I finally settled on Kristi Y-, inspired by some new hair lotion advertised in the window of a fancy drugstore I passed. I was busy trying the name on for size when I bumped straight into a tall, handsome older man.
"I was too inexperienced to realize Vern had caused the 'accident.' 'Take it easy, baby,' he cautioned, reaching out to steady me.
"Feeling damn clumsy, I apologized, and before I knew it I was walking along with Vern, attempting to follow his smooth line. When we came to his shiny new car I got in without thinking, nodding when he suggested a pizza at some little hole in the wall a few blocks off the main drag. What with the pizza and the coke, it took us all of an hour and a half before we were tucked into a big bed, this time in a. nice, new motel not far from the Sunset Strip.
"Feeling fine, I relaxed and let him begin to make love to me. I had eaten, I had a bed for the night, at least, and, since I was still somewhat sore between my young legs, I figured I might as well be a little more sore. It couldn't matter much at that point.
"I may as well admit it, sex was a big letdown to me then. Oh, I wasn't counting the first time, when a guy pulled the rape bit on me. He was just too hot to listen to reason, and I had been playing a heavy game of prick-teaser. Besides, I knew enough to know that the first time wasn't usually that good for a girl. So after I'd bounced down to the nearest hippie clinic and gotten The Pill, I gave it another try. This time it was the captain of our school football team. Well, what Rob didn't know about girls could have filled a book, so of course I still wasn't thrilled. But I began to worry a little when I let a few other, older guys fuck me. Not that it didn't feel sort of good, but where was that big moment? Why did they always roll off leaving me feeling like I'd taken a wrong turn somewhere? I just couldn't get with it, but since every man I'd ever met seemed convinced that it was the greatest, I soon got pretty practical about the whole thing. A quick screw could get a pretty girl a lot of things in this world. I was just sorry that ecstasy wasn't one of them.
"Still, it was no big thing, and it felt kind of nice, the way Vern was kissing and sucking my pouty little nipples. I was even mildly sorry that he was soon going to stick his big prick in me and start pumping away-his tongue felt so good on my breasts.
"But Vern didn't seem to be in any more of a hurry than I was. He kept kissing and sucking my stiff nipples, and when finally he began to move, it was only to lower his face and begin kissing the smooth flesh of my belly and thighs. I was so dumb I had no idea what he was going for until he was there.
"Like I said, it felt good, his mouth roaming over my body. He moved lightly over the high line of my hip, then started to kiss his way up and down my legs until he had managed to wriggle between my thighs. I expected him to lift himself on to me, to mount me, but he remained as he was, between my thighs, kissing and licking higher and higher until his face was only a few inches from my wet cunt.
"That was another thing. I never had any trouble getting juicy. A few kisses and a feel or two and I'd be physically ready for some action. But it was different this time-very different. A funny heat penetrated my limbs, a crazy, gingery warmth. I found my breath catching and changing, and my thighs began to open wider, as if my little cunt needed a touch of cooling air.
"I felt positively slippery down there, too, and the feeling spread out so that I felt as if I'd been lubricated at every joint, that if I'd tried to walk I might very well move as if I'd been oiled.
"'That's beautiful, doll,' Vern's nearly forgotten voice drifted up to me. 'I always had a thing for red-headed dollies. Real redheads, with little red snatches. Now I'm going to show you how much you turn me on, Kristi, baby… ' He moved even closer.
"I caught my breath as his tongue, wet and hot, dragged slowly across my stiffened clitoris. Then I began to moan pathetically, instantly so involved and controlled by what this stranger was doing to me that I ceased being myself at all. I was a thing of jelly, a moaning, writhing: doll, a slave to a knowing, eager tongue which dug into my cunt in a way no cock had ever known it. I don't know if, given the chance, all young girls 'would be turned on as I was, the first time a skilled tongue went to work on them, but I felt as if I were discovering sex for the first time. There, on my back, my ass wriggling all over that bed, I finally learned about ecstasy. Pinned- to the sheets which quickly dampened from my heated flesh, rough hands holding-me down, spreading me open, a feverish tongue, soft lips, sharp teeth, a mouth that sucked between kisses, I dissolved into' my first orgasm, only to be convulsing against his face a second and, finally, a third time before he let me go. Weak and panting, glowing and still shaking from the aftermath of his tonguing, I waited dizzily for Vern to climb on top of me and finally, sink his prick into me. I didn't mind the thought-I was, in fact, happy to return in part the pleasure I'd been given, but Vern merely rolled over and hugged me to his body, content and tired. I managed to glance down and was surprised to find that his cock was glazed with come.
"Vern kept me at that motel nearly a month. During that time I didn't do a damn thing except wait for him to return to me from wherever he earned his daily bread. I guessed he was married since he never spent a whole night with me, but when he was with me the world was a ball of fire and flowing honey. Once he stayed between my legs a full three hours-I timed it-and when he finally moved it wasn't at my request. With Vern I learned the subtle differences of being on a bed on my back while getting sucked as opposed to sitting on Vern's face or standing up, propped against a wall with one leg hooked over his neck. We spent every minute, almost, in sheer ecstasy. He didn't try to fuck me even once, but after the first week he did attempt to introduce a new innovation.
"I'd given up worrying about how Vern was getting his own kicks. I soon saw that his hand appeared to do the trick just fine. But he had a better idea. 'In the interest of a broader education and the sake of justice and all,' he broached one night while we were resting up, 'you're about to get a lesson in the joys of cocksucking, my love. Ever take a man'S cock in your mouth, Kristi?'
"I shook my head, frowning slightly. The thought turned me off.
"'Then there's always a first time, baby… ' His big hand snaked around my head and pulled my face to his belly.
"His dick wasn't hard, but as I bobbed helplessly, protesting and attempting to evade him, the flesh rapidly hardened until his prick was huge and flush against my cheek. It smelled faintly of perspiration and semen, but all my struggling only brought me closer, until I was lightly making my protests to the broad tip of his fat cock.
"'Just open your mouth, brat. That's a good girl, open your mouth and suck.' His voice was amused and condescending, but his grip was like iron.
"I relaxed suddenly, because my body was being turned by Vern's free hand. Before I knew it Vern had parted, my thighs and was busily lapping at my cunt. I calmed down at once, and with his wonderful tongue doing crazy things to my cunt, I could hardly refuse to do as he asked. I opened my mouth and took the head of his dick between my lips. The mechanics were easy enough, but I nearly gagged on the reality of what I was doing. His enormous balls fell against my cheek and chin and there was something so repulsive about having his cock in my mouth that, in spite of the thrills drumming through my own blood, I was unable to continue sucking him after a moment or two. Instead, I let his cock slip from my mouth and used my hand 'on him instead, jerking on his prick until, shortly after I climaxed against his hot mouth, Vern spat a boiling load of thick come all over my hand and face…
"Vern just didn't show up one day. I never did find out why. The rent was paid until the end of the month, I knew, and I had some money to last me till then if I didn't splurge. After waiting a whole day, I ventured out, and immediately got lost in the world of Hollywood dreams. I met someone who knew an agent, ended up getting more day-to-day work as an extra than anything, with a few modeling jobs thrown in, and started growing up. I had a lot of lovers, but as I found more and more men who were content to simply suck me off, I slowly stopped fucking at all, or fell back to that only as a last resort, or as a sort of payment. I was definitely finding out what I liked and didn't like.
"I met Nick the night of my twenty-second birthday, at a big Hollywood party. I'd done pretty well that year, what with a TV commercial which ran and ran and ran, until even I was bored with everything about it except the residuals. In fact, that was the keynote of that year-boredom, but with style. I had a nice pad in Westwood, a great wardrobe, and the future looked pretty good. I'd long ago given up the dream of Lana Turner instant stardom, but the pennies kept dropping from heaven, and I should have been on top of the world.
"But I was, indeed, bored. The wild life no longer thrilled me. I was looking for something, but I wasn't sure I knew what that 'something' was. Which, of course, made me doubly suspicious of everything that crossed my path… Was this it? Did that mean something special? That kind of thinking. I'm sure that's why Richie affected me as much as he did. It was that kind of a year, and, what the hell, I was bored. I'd rather be dead than bored.
"Richie was a babe in arms, a twenty-year-old kid right off the farm, all big-eyed and innocent. I'd been dating his brother Nick since that big party, and Nick, at thirty, was a whole different story By that I mean he was Mr Hollywood, in the way that every other guy I was seeing was. He worked for an agency, and I let him take me home and screw the shit out of me because I was aware of his power. One more ad and I could pretty well retire for a year or so, or indulge myself with one more shot at a real acting job. Nick liked me well enough, I got the job, and we began to see a lot of each other. Nothing heavy, and I kept the sex to a minimum, but all the time we were together I kept waiting for that 'something' to come along who would-which would-magically relieve my growing boredom.
"I met Richie a few days after he arrived in town, innocently expecting his older brother, long unseen, to put him up while he searched for his place in the Big City. Richie was terribly cute, and a hundred years too young for me. Which may have been why he turned me on so much. Or maybe it was, that corn-fed maleness…
"He was wide-eyed over meeting me, awed by my Max-Factor loveliness, and at first I'd only meant to have a little fun with him. He'd hardly ever fucked a girl, lost, as he was, on that Iowa farm, and he'd never even considered using his tongue on one, or anything that naughty. But I 'knew he wanted me-oh, did he ever! So, because I was bored, because he turned me on and I needed a new toy, I began to play with Richie. I turned him on with every little trick I knew, then refused to let that big dick of his anywhere near me. It had to be my way or no way, and the game continued until one night, sobbing with frustration and need, Richie fell to his knees, stuck his handsome face under my skirt, ripped the crotch from my panties, and frantically began to lap my steaming cunt…
"He liked it. I loved it. He moved in with me the very next day, amusing his brother. At first I was amused, too, but that didn't last long. All of a sudden the boredom was gone, and I was completely wrapped up in Richie, in our hot moments together. On our second night together I found myself willingly tonguing and licking his beautiful cock, and an odd hunger gripped me. The magic I'd wanted was there, and I was overwhelmingly in love with Richie, more so, I secretly suspected at the time, than he was with me. All the tables were being reversed-Richie was beginning to be-my master, and I was lost to his boyish needs and moods; Our sex was frantic and beautiful, and I wouldn't let it be marred by the so-called 'normal' sex, a terrible waste, I felt, since children were out, and I wanted to fully experience the heat of his young loins in my mouth and throat, not have it splash uselessly against my sterile womb. I was astonished to find myself sickeningly jealous when I found he's been with other girls, and, shocking even myself, I somehow or other got us before a justice of the peace, as if marriage were the only ultimate way I had of holding this boy…
"Richie, with the help of a few friends and more than a few females who also were attracted by his outdoor charm, grew up quickly. I found myself with a cranky, demanding boy-toy, a twenty-year-old kid who didn't want to work, was simply content to live with and off me, sneaking around when the desire for a straight piece of ass hit him, further humiliating me. I was too young, too good-looking for this scene, yet I put up with it and, masochistically, encouraged it to a degree. Jealous and hurt, I gave in and let him fuck me at first, but Richie, brat that he was, went out of his way to make it miserable for me, knowing I hated every minute of it. When he pushed me a little too far he would, clever child, push me down and work his tongue into my aching, ever needing crotch, at the same time forcing his beautiful prick between my suddenly silenced lips. It was an insane year. But I wasn't bored.
"By the second year Richie was, though, and I began to get a little desperate about holding on to him. It was crazy, but I was too caught up in the game to see just how crazy it was.
"I knew about his other girls-he made sure I knew about them, perhaps as a little private revenge for what my so-called 'love' had done to that innocent farm boy with the good intentions. I don't know. But one day he told me that he had this buddy who loved giving women head, and he thought it would be a 'kick' if I'd go to bed with the buddy and let him watch. A little drunk, reading the boredom in Richie's recent actions, I finally agreed, and that night was the start of a whole new game. Richie did watch, while his buddy-'buddy'; I'm sure he paid Richie well-used a pretty skillful tongue on my cunt. In spite of myself, hating myself, I came…
"The next time the 'buddy,' a different one, brought a girl for my Richie. But I was too drunk and too excited to stop the whole thing. The four of us shared the whole bed, and I found myself vastly excited watching Richie fuck this strange girl. Afterward I ended up with my mouth wrapped tightly around my child-husband's cock, as if to reaffirm my claim… It was a wild year.
"Once the swapping thing got under way there was no going back, especially since a greedy, sick part of me loved the whole thing. And Richie, like some infantile ringleader, kept the merry-go-round spinning faster and faster and faster… Things were a blur, and finally Richie left, helping himself to the very best, the choicest morsels in the house before shipping me off to the funny farm, the 'private sanitarium,' the dump where, for a bundle, they get you off the goddamn merry-go-round…
"The divorce cost nearly as much as the retreat, but my nerves were steel instead of jelly again, and I was simply grateful. I settled down to work during the next year. Again I was pretty lucky and even landed a small but steady part in a soap opera. That and a couple of decent commercials did the trick, and my bankbook began to get healthy again. I moved to the large apartment complex with the poor excuse for a pool, and threw myself into decorating the apartment.
"Everything was fine. Until I happened one day, while tripping along with my newest treasure in tow, a small antique table for the foyer, to see Brad at the pool. He was young, handsome in that same corn-fed way, and even before I knew his name; I knew he was trouble. From the immediate wetness of my unthinking crotch as I looked at Brad I knew I was heading straight for a taste of that trouble. Didn't someone once say something about how she who refuses to learn from history is forced to repeat it? Oh, well…
The element of pathos that underlies the case of Kristi Y- can only be understood in the light of a physiological basis. What at first appears to be a coarseness in the attitude toward life in general and toward traditional values-marriage, family, home-in particular is, in fact, a frustration growing out of what must be, by all indications presented in a relatively subtle manner by Kristi, nothing less than the subject's physiological frigidity. Several times in the course of her narrative she stresses her disinterest in regular intercourse, her strong preference-an obsession, almost-for oral lovemaking, i.e., cunnilingus and, eventually, fellatio, and admits to an inability to attain orgasm through intromissive coitus.
Robert E. Rothenberg, in his Medical Guide to Sex amp; Marriage, writes:
Frigidity is defined as a lack of sexual (orgastic) response in a female… If a female has been born with a well-formed body and a normal glandular and reproductive system, there is no physiological basis for frigidity…
Frigidity is a variable entity…
Frigidity may be absolute or relative. Some women are unable to feel and enjoy sex under any circumstances and with all men. This is absolute frigidity and should be recognized as a neurotic response…
Relative frigidity requires the advice of a family physician or a marriage counselor more than that of a psychiatrist…
Considering Kristi Y-'s adolescent period (nothing is known of her early childhood), she is, if anything, extraordinarily well-adjusted. She manifests no signs of neurosis, in spite of the fact that the frustration which she must unquestionably feel would have under similar circumstances driven another person to acute neurosis and/or psychosis. One cannot underestimate the role that her extrasexual interests (acting, interior decorating, etc.) have played in helping her to maintain a levelheaded existence.
Contrary to her repeatedly voiced rejection of marriage, and everything that is traditionally tied with it, the subject is, in fact, with controlled desperation hoping to find love, which she superficially downgrades (except in her affair with, and short-lived "marriage" to, Richie-an affair that was doomed from the start), a husband who can satisfy her and whom she can, in turn, satisfy, and a status of wife and mother. Her tragic affair with sadistic young Richie, which terminated in divorce and a period of psychiatric treatment-totally unnecessary-at a "private sanitarium," certainly did nothing to alter Kristi's negative outlook toward marriage.
It is peculiar that during her stay at the private psychiatric clinic no attempt had been made to determine the cause of her apparent frigidity. It is possible that-embittered as anyone understandably would be under the circumstances-she had refused to cooperate with the psychoanalyst who handled her case and, of course, were her frigidity not brought up, there was no way in which the problem could have been resolved.
Her second serious involvement, which she describes in the following portion of her narrative, can be considered serious only in that it portends to end as unrewardingly to the subject as her affair with Richie had ended. Brad, the tenant of one of the apartments in the building in which the subject resides, is obviously a man-if such a term can be used loosely in reference to him-who has no scruples about his lifestyle, his means of obtaining a livelihood, or about other people's feelings. He is not using sex as a diversionary pleasure source but rather as a tool with which he can sustain his leisurely• existence. He holds sex orgies in his apartment, orgies for the participation in which he charges admission.
The subject's attraction to Brad is nothing more than physical infatuation, particularly understandable because of her relatively extended period of sexual abstention (following her aborted affair and marriage to Richie and her psychiatric treatment). Perhaps the most discouraging element in her relationship with Brad, as she describes it, is the apparent inclination on her part to agree to being used, if not abused, as she had once already been by her ex-husband Richie. That there is a masochistic tendency in Kristi cannot be denied; that this tendency is closely related to her frigidity is more than likely. Her rationalization-if a subconscious process of masochism can be called rationalization-is that she is incomplete as a woman because she is incapable of being satisfied by a man through regular coital relationship. and, reciprocally, of being able to satisfy a man; in any relationship, therefore, in which she becomes emotionally involved-i.e., "falls in love with the man"-her feeling of inadequacy catalyzes a feeling of guilt and the guilt demands compensation in the form of punishment, which creates the tendency toward masochism.
May E. Romm, in Judd Marmor's Sexual Inversion: The Multiple Roots of Homosexuality, sums up the development and evolution of masochism in the following words:
It is essential to recognize that [masochism] is not an inherent biological reaction to life. We cannot, in all truth, state that an infant reaches out for pain. Masochism must therefore… be a reaction to frustration, in which the individual repetitively reaches out for pleasure or satisfaction and is continually blocked in his goal or punished for his attempts. In desperation, he may then erotize pain in an unsuccessful attempt to cure himself through suffering… This process may lead to psychopithology of various degrees, from neurosis to psychosis…
One needs but listen to the narrative of Kristi to see that Romm's brief analysis is almost custom-made for the subject.
"Never in my life have I found it difficult to attract the attention of a man I might desire. Especially at a pool. I have this bathing suit that's more a strip of emerald here and another there, a wisp of color, really, and a guaranteed man-catcher. I wore it the day after I'd first spied Brad. First, though, I'd had it out with myself. Though my arguments were logical, even wise, I'd lost easily to good old desire. Since leaving the funny farm I'd indulged only moderately, and then with men who were simply good with their tongues and in no way excited me beyond the immediate physical level. But Brad was something else again.
"My interior-decorating mania forgotten, I spent most of the afternoon poolside. But he didn't appear. I finally gave it up by five, my delicate skin in desperate need of a good oiling. Later that night, after dining alone, I found myself actually in bed early, playing with myself like a teen-ager, visions of Brad, naked, erecting ghosts I couldn't exorcise without an immediate orgasm.
"He didn't show for four days, and like a hunter after a particularly vicious prey, I kept up my stake-out until he finally did appear, more magnificent than ever.
"It was a blow to my ego that he took no notice of me. Instead, he oiled that lovely body, stretched out on his back, and fell asleep.
"That gave me a chance to really eye-ball the joker, from the longish blond hair on his head to his very pink toes. His chest was covered with fine golden hairs, wiry and short, and his flat belly moved lazily. The loose pair of trunks he wore revealed enough so that it appeared that Brad was hung like a horse, too. I swear, my mouth was actually watering as I stared at the promising' bulge and imagined him coaxing that cock of his down my willing throat. As I stared at him his shapely mouth curved into a smile, and my pussy could nearly feel those lips against my reddish triangle.,.. I was on the brink of going back to my apartment and jerking off again, or calling one of the men I knew when he woke up.
"He did manage to toss me a wink as he suddenly collected himself and hurried off. I watched him make his way to Apartment Seven. The hot sun and the erotic heat in my own body somehow made me drowsy. Without realizing it, I fell asleep, fortunately under the shade of.a stringy palm tree. When I awakened an hour or so later, it was with my eyes going, as if by habit, to Apartment Seven. As I watched, a dozen or more people made their way up the stairs to Brad's apartment. Each of them looked strangely uncomfortable, and I found myself wondering just what Brad was doing up there… Some instinct told me I should check it out.
"Fortunately we have this very hip building manager. Actually, I insist on it. Another thing I learned in my early days in Hollywood was that people out here are either very square or very, very hip. It is essential to get one of the former hags if you have to rent an apartment from anyone who lives on the grounds. I looked up Hilda the next day. She supplied more than Brad's name, the fact that he was, on the surface, an unemployed actor, and a few interesting tidbits about his past. She actually knew about the traffic-which took place once a week-at Brad's apartment.
"'It's 'the way he affords this-place, Kristi. Actually, I first found out about it by accident, you know, by answering one of those ads in the underground press l Not that I do that sort of thing all the time or anything, but I had this bet with Libby… '
"I listened, fascinated, while Hilda prattled on. I finally got her back to the point, namely, what the hell was going on at Brad's apartment once a week?
"'Anyway, an ad for a sex club was one thing, but an ad for a "head club" was a whole different thing. Did the ad mean it was a club for dopers, you know, that kind of "head," or did it mean a sex club where everybody just liked to have sex orally?' Hilda giggled. 'Or were they talking about a club for intellectual types?'
"So, on a dare, Hilda had called the number in the ad and out-front asked what they were talking about. The husky male voice on the other end made it all quite clear-theirs was a club where only oral sex was encouraged. After hanging up Hilda was sure she had heard that voice before. It took her all of a week to realize it was Brad's voice. On impulse she looked up his number and, masking her own voice, continued her discussion of the week before, finding out that the club met once a week at his apartment, that men had to pay ten dollars a visit, but that a good-looking young-woman was welcome free. Amused, Hilda had kept her mouth shut about all this, entertaining herself by watching as the weekly club members nervously found their way to Brad's apartment. She told me the whole story only after I'd all but bribed her by promising to let her come down to the studio one day when we filmed my show, which turned out to be her favorite soap opera.
"Heart pounding away, I rushed out, bought myself a copy of the paper Hilda had mentioned, and curled up on one of my new chairs to read the ad section.
"I found his ad right away, though it didn't have his name or anything on it. After planning exactly what I would say, I picked up the phone and, amused beyond belief, I called Brad, described my looks and needs softly, and got my expected invitation to next week's meeting.
"I dressed carefully for that great moment, in a style I doubted he'd recognize at first glance. I put my long, flaming hair into the tightest bun I could imagine, and I wore a sexy but low-key dress, dark hose, and very high heels. I also wore big round eyeglasses tinted purple, a touch that made me look eighteen and ripe. I was planning on having a little fun.
"When the others started arriving hot and heavy, I slipped out of my apartment and joined the eclectic parade to Apartment Seven. In spite of my desire for a little, personal entertainment along with a chance of really meeting Brad, I was not unaware that the palms of my hands were damp and I was trembling slightly. After all, these were indeed my people, and phantoms of the fun we might all be having shortly did little to erase my own nervousness.
"Brad let us inside himself, but there was another man there taking money and welcoming everyone. The whole thing was such an obvious shuck, so clearly a money-making scheme, I'm amazed anyone went for it, but after a few words about the beauty of 'doing your own thing' sexually, a good-looking girl got to her feet (a plant? I wondered at the time, but I never found out) and suggested that she might be willing to do her own thing with a willing male right then and there.
"This was obviously the sort of thing that got the ball rolling, and of course someone-it just happened to be the man who was taking the cash-agreed to take the girl up on her kind offer. The couple withdrew to a dimly lit sofa and silently undressed-at least the girl reached up and removed her panties while the man opened his fly and lowered his shorts. The whole thing was even sexier at this point because they were partially dressed, somehow. Before long the girl had the guy's prick out and was kissing the head lightly. Unable to take much of that, the guy was soon jamming his cock down her lovely throat, and while the rest of us watched fascinated, the couple finally got into a classic sixty-nine position and began to eat each other in earnest. The guy had both of her legs wrapped around his neck shortly, while the girl was demonstrating her obvious talent as a pert little cocksucker. Every eye in the house was hotly glued to that sofa.
"I wasn't exactly immune, either. But I took advantage of the show to slowly move over toward Brad. He was sitting on the rug near the door, as caught up in the sofa scene as the rest. I got close enough to see that his pants were bulging with his hardening cock.
"Since we were sort of hidden from everyone else, and because the perversity of the thought struck me and stoked me, I suddenly bent over, pulled down Brad's zipper, and freed his swelling dick and hairy balls. Before he could react, I ran my hot tongue over his prick and quickly mouthed the tip of his cock. It was too good to resist, so Brad directed my head to take in more of his cock. Agreeably, I began to suck him off, thrill upon thrill shooting through my body as I realized it wasn't since Richie that having a cock in my mouth had excited me this much I sucked like a-pro, so excited that I actually came halfway through the act.
"Brad was worked up too, and his hand kept returning to my hair. I knew he wanted to run his fingers through the long red strands, so I reached up and began removing pins until it finally tumbled freely in his hands. Then I got back to the business of giving Brad the best cock-sucking he'd ever had.
"What with the show in front of him, and the expert sucking and licking motions of my mouth and lips and silky tongue, Brad was shooting his thick, hot come into my mouth in much too short a time. Eagerly I sucked in the creamy load, pumping his balls gently with my fingers as if to milk the last delicious drop out of him. Then I lifted my head to smile at him.
"His jaw nearly dropped to the floor. With my hair all loose around my face, he recognized me all right. At first he was just startled, then he was upset.
"'Let's take a walk into the other room, kid,' be suggested, his hand on my arm so threateningly strong I had no choice but to take his suggestion as if it were a command.
"We disappeared without disturbing the others. They were beginning to pair off anyway, in the dim outer room, and I felt sure the couple on the sofa, still going at each other's young flesh, would soon be unnoticed in the crowd. Brad led me to a bedroom, closed and locked the door, then motioned for me to sit down on one of the twin beds.
"'Now then, what's the big idea? Who are you, how did you find out about this club,' and why are you here?'
"I couldn't help smiling a little. Hollywood breeds paranoia. 'I'm here in answer to your ad, Brad. I called and talked to someone-you, probably, and I was invited over here. At first I was a little surprised to realize it was my own apartment building, but… ' I smiled hotly up at him. 'I'd seen you by the pool and wondered if you would be good. I just couldn't resist out there. Do you really mind?' I teased.
"But Brad's paranoia didn't evaporate so quickly. His shrewd eyes looked me over carefully. 'Strip,' he ordered.
"Like Richie, he had a way of cutting me down to size that somehow turned me on. I began to undress, only to find that my hands were shaking once more: I was like a boozer out on a rare binge… now that I'd found my thing again I wanted to revel in every minute of it.
"Brad watched me get undressed. His eyes were showing the struggle he was having to stay cool and suspicious by the time I was down to a wisp of a pair of bikini panties. I climbed back into the heels and kept the panties on long enough to walk around a little and show myself off. I liked twitching my little butt at a likely male. Finally, unable to take much more myself, my pussy throbbing so hard I could almost hear it, I slipped off the panties, walked to where Brad was crumpled on the bed, and angled my naked, oozing crotch at his face. 'Kiss it, darling, please… ' I whispered, my closing with expectation of his kiss.
"But Brad only backed away. 'This is a swap club, Kristi,' he reminded me. 'How about if I send in someone to take care of that pretty pussy of yours?'
"The bastard! He was so like Richie I nearly creamed right then and there. Determined I could play the game as well as anyone, I nodded, my eyes expressionless tough my body cried out for him and him alone.
"He got off the bed and was out of the room in a minute. I don't think I was even all that surprised when he returned with the girl who had started the ball rolling on the sofa a short while before.
"'This is Grace,' Brad mumbled. 'Grace, Kristi has a pussy that's on fire. Look how red it is.' Laughing at his inane little joke, he slumped down on the bed.
"Grace was naked now. She wasn't quite as young as I thought she was, but her body was nice and firm, and her breasts were still high and small-nippled. Silently she urged me back on the bed. Then, falling to her knees, she brought her face to my crotch, parted the, delicate lips with her fingertips, and began to lick the thickly glazed flesh of my quivering pussy. "Grace was no novice. Soon I was moaning as she went to work on my straining clitoris. She sucked it firmly, then backed off and began to lap at it gently. I was making the bed dance as the girl's experienced tongue made me come in record time.
"Brad had left the door open, and before long my moans had attracted a few others. All of a sudden there was a huge cock, rock hard and angling toward me, over my mouth. I reached up and started sucking it. Then I felt Grace moving away from my crotch, but immediately she was replaced by someone with a less delicate tongue, a tongue which delighted in spearing my hole. In time that tongue was replaced by one that seemed intent on doing some spearing in another hole, my tight, crinkly fleshed anus. But that didn't matter, because the big tool in my mouth was spurting, and I shut my eyes tightly and pretended it was Brad…
"Another cock soon filled my now aching throat, but this one was small and moved in and out of my mouth with short, slow movements. And a new tongue was drumming against my clitoris, and I was coming again…
"After what seemed a few hours I finally got to my feet. The others tumbled onto the bed, working on each other in my absence. My knees were very weak, but I managed to stumble into the other room.
"The couch was filled again, this time by two women clutched together in a frantic sixty-nine while a man watched closely, his cock in his hand.
"In a corner one girl was busy with two men, sucking one while the other was buried under her crouching body. The only light in the room gave off a bluish glow, plunging the darkened room into a timeless, sizeless dream room. A woman with a rounded belly and the thickest pubic hair I'd ever seen was leaning against one wall while a man, on his knees was making love to her amazing crotch-jungle as if he would never get enough of it. Off in another corner a couple were actually fucking, and their movements were so furtive, so soundless that I nearly laughed. Oh Brave New World! A way out Of the Population Explosion, at last…
"I didn't see Brad anywhere, and, silly as it was, I wanted him desperately. I knew that in wanting him I would have to be prepared to put up with a lot of unnecessary crap, but somehow I wanted -him all the same. I wanted that corn-fed body next to mine, wanted to feel the heat of' his loins against my face, wanted to grind my girlish cunt into his face…
"The fucking couple finally came, and they fell away from each other, as soon as the act was completed, not even waiting for the last of his semen to fill her pit. At once a girl -appeared out of nowhere and began to catch his still spurting come with her mouth. The just-fucked girl watched, bus soon she was claimed by Grace, who, I realized, had also been watching the strangely illicit couple. Grace dropped to her knees, roughly separated the girl's thighs, and began to suck the man's seed out of her womb.
"Everywhere I looked people were locked together sexually, mouths clinging to cunts and pricks like they had been glued into position, but still I couldn't see Brad in the writhing, moaning crowd. I headed back toward the bedroom, heart whipping around-in my chest at the realization that he was off with one of the girls somewhere, removed from me. I would have left, gone home, but in spite of all the exquisite sex I'd already enjoyed this evening, – I still wanted that special something-in Brad, that nameless excitement he generated in the pit of my belly, in every drop of my racing blood.
"I studied the mob in the bedroom carefully, but Brad wasn't there, either. Feeling hollow and suddenly terribly alone, I repulsed a few dozen offers to join in the fun, and turned on my heel, first picking up my clothing from the bedroom floor, where the garments had fallen in all the uproar.
"I was on the point of dressing, definitely let down, even with the noises, scents and sights working on me to throw out my foolish-feelings and jump into the throng. Then I looked up-straight into Brad's sardonically grinning face. He had, I realized, just left the bathroom, and he was fully dressed. He took my hand, pulled me to-him, and kissed me hard.
"'It's really impossibly thick in here. I don't have any room to stretch you out and suck that beautiful little cunt of yours. What say we try your apartment?'
"Shaking all over as if I hadn't-come half a dozen times already that evening, I dumbly nodded and dressed. This time he helped with my things, but neither of us bothered doing too good a job-they would be off again in minutes.
"Feeling like a pair of kids, we escaped, leaving the apartment to the others and hurried to mine. There, in my marvelously quiet bedroom, Brad undressed me, kissing me all over. He sucked my nipples and ran his marvelous tongue over every inch of my flesh. By the time he finally used his electric tongue on my cunt I – was so hot I came at once. Then we twisted into a sixty-nine position, and I swear I came again as much from sucking him off as from his sucking at my pussy.
"We paused only for a cigarette, then Brad was ready again. – He began to tease me, using words as skillfully as his fingers and tongue, warning me that this special treatment was only for tonight, and then I would have to take my place in line at the parties. He was, he teased, a very busy man. And even as he spoke I knew that whatever his terms, I was hooked. Hooked on his tongue, his touch, his voice, his cock… Only this time everything would be out front, with no put-ons about love. That was the only way to satisfy this craving, yet be free to live my own life as I wished.
"Brad knew a few tricks even I'd missed, somehow, and he began to play with me mischievously, touching, prodding, tickling, then leaving me to roll over and fake sudden sleep or disinterest. In spite of myself I began to respond, and we were at it again, hotly, thickly, sweetly… so sweetly I came another, impossible time…
"Finally Brad got up and weakly began to dress. He barely glanced my way, his handsome face concentrating on untangling his clothing. 'Listen,' he announced finally, 'I won't have time to see you this week. Not before the next meeting, anyway. You will be there, won't you?'
"I wasn't really all that astounded to find myself nodding, promising to be there. If that was the only way… I'd be there if I had to crawl. I'm too big a girl to put myself on. I know what I want.
"'This time I might want you to start the whole thing off. You know, offer to suck someone off, dig? It's a great little icebreaker. Then, if you're a good little cunt, I may come back here with you… '
"Sighing, I heard myself agree, excitement again slamming my heart against my rib cage. What the hell, here we go again, and what was that bit about learning from history, anyway…
The prognosis for Kristi Y- has to be one of simultaneous optimism and pessimism: optimism for the fact that she recognizes the path on which she is about to tread as being a thorny one; pessimism because it appears that she is nevertheless frustrated enough to go ahead and take that path. What she needs is an understanding physician-gynecologist-with whom she can have a perfectly honest discussion of her problem-the problem of frigidity.