“He got so turned on that I had to-stop handling him for a little while or he’d have popped off right there in my hand. Not that that would have been so bad an idea, actually. Later on I did him that way a couple of times, working him with my fingers so that he’d shoot off all over my pussy and ass. This time, though, I wanted the real thing, all the way in. And I made sure that I didn’t work him up too much. I had to wait a minute or two him cool down before I worked his cock into my cunt. I wanted him in there so I could be sure he would be slick enough to go in my ass. I worked myself back and forth on his prick a few times, just so I could see it sliding in and out of my pussy. That’s really a fantastic sight. I’ll never forget the first time I saw it! “But then he started getting worked up again and I had to stop. I sat there, as still as I could be, until he’d quieted down a little. Then I had him grab his prick down by the base and hold it still while I moved off him and got myself into position where I could aim my asshole at that prick of his. He was almost dripping with pussy juice when I started and the head nosed into place just as easy as could be. It wasn’t until I started working the stiff part of it into me that I could really feel it. Sitting in that position, you know, makes your ass a lot tighter and it seemed as though his prick was twice or maybe three times, as big as it had ever been before.
“I was watching it all in the mirror and I could see it perfectly. The flesh around the mouth of my ass was being pushed in. It didn’t want to open up and let him inside. But he was placed right and I knew that if I gritted my teeth and pushed hard enough it would pop into place and then we’d be off to Come City Sure, it was beginning to hurt a little but I didn’t mind that. The pain wasn’t anything compared to the excitement of knowing that a real, live man was about to fuck me in the ass and that I was going to be able to see every bit of it! “You’ve got to push harder,” he said. “I can’t hump it into you, so you’re going to have to drive your ass down on my cock!”
“‘I’ll do it,” I promised. “I’ll do anything to get you inside my ass!”
“I wasn’t lying either. At that moment, after I’d gotten so worked up by seeing him do all those things to me and knowing what else there was left, I guess I’d have torn myself open to finish it. I didn’t have to do that, though. I just swung my hips down toward him- and the head of his cock — popped into me just as easy as pie. Well, not all that easy, I guess, because I could- really tell that he’d stretched my ass. But who minds a little thing like that kind of pain? Especially since it doesn’t last but just a minute or two. You get used to it after that and it’s no problem at all. It’s just pleasure of a sort that I couldn’t describe. Not even if I knew all the words- in the English language! “Herb was just as turned on as I was and he didn’t get more than the head of his prick inside my ass when he started to come. Pow! Zap! Great big, thick shots of come, stronger than any I’d ever felt before. And it went on and on, till I thought sure he couldn’t have any more cream left in his balls. When he felt it start he just groaned, as if I’d fastened a pipe wrench onto his prick, instead of my ass, and then he really let me have it.
“Naturally I was coming too-. Who wouldn’t have let go with a climax when something that great was happening to you? It just spread all, over me, kind of like a fog, and I could feel it everywhere in my body-even down to my toes, the tips of my fingers, the roots of my hair, every place imaginable! I could still see it all real clear in the mirror in front of me and I could even see that big vein running up-the bottom of his prick. It was swelling and pumping like mad as the cream shot out of it. And I could feel it almost as well as if it were going off in my mouth! “I didn’t touch my clit or rub my pussy or do anything like that. It was enough, just feeling him go into me and seeing it all. I didn’t have to do a thing except sit there and enjoy it. That, and come. Oh, did I ever come! It just lasted and lasted. Herb himself said that he’d never, not even once, felt a woman come like I did that time. And I guess he’s diddled enough of them to know what he’s talking about. One thing is — for certain: if it had lasted any longer I’d have passed out for sure! — “After a while, when we’d both sort of got over that first big spurt — of joy, we started in again. Herb reached around with his finger and started rubbing the lips of-my pussy. I laid back and watched him work me up. I could see his finger getting wet and I knew that I was building up for another big one.- I was a little uncertain of him because after all, he’d just shot off like only a few guys ever do. But he said that be thought he could make it and even if he couldn’t, he just had to feel me come again like that.
“As it turned out, he didn’t make it. I’d milked all the come out of his balls that first time! He never stopped, though, not even after it became pretty clear that he wasn’t going to be able to come again. He just kept shoving the prick up my ass and stroking my clit until I let go with another monstrous come. It didn’t ‘last quite as long as that first one and it wasn’t quite as strong. But, even at that, it was a lot better than any I’d ever bad before, either with a guy or by myself.
“Herb showed me that he was really interested in me. I mean, not just as something to fuck-though he was sure keen on that! — but also as a human being. I ended up telling him nearly everything about myself, even down to the time when I discovered that my ass was really sensitive and could be used for fun. And he let me know a good bit more about himself. He really liked to talk about things like that and be also liked seeing- me do it to myself. I was terribly shy about that and at first I really hated to admit that I was a finger-dipper, but he convinced me that it wasn’t all that bad. It ‘, wasn’t very long before I’d gotten up my nerve enough to show him how I did it to myself.
“He convinced me by giving himself a hand job one Saturday afternoon when we were sitting around his apartment watching a football game. He’d been after me for a while to show’ him how I did it, and I always turned him down. But, after a while, he just took hold of his cock we were already naked, we’d been screwing and we were laying in bed watching TV-and started pumping his- fist up and down the stem of the big, hard thing. I thought he was just showing off at first but pretty soon he came on real strong.
“‘I’m going to come!” he gasped. “Do you want to suck it… do you want to blow me?”
“No, why don’t you shoot off on me?” I said, twisting around so I could get my face up close to his cock. “Shoot the come on my boobs!”
“He really dug that idea and he moved a little, just enough to get his dick aimed in the right direction. And he kept on stroking that big love rod. It wasn’t long before it came, and when it did he just drenched my nipples with come! I felt wonderful, laying there under him and feeling that warm, thick stuff shoot down on me. I started fingering my clit and then, once I’d gotten really hungry for it, I moved my finger down to my asshole and I finished myself off the way. Herb watched it, every bit, and he said it was just total sex. I believed him after that.”
Some readers undoubtedly will be offended by this look at Geraldine’s most intimate sexual desires and practices. They- will accuse her of sexual abnormality and brand her a pervert. This judgment may have the approval of the Establishment and could be justified in a legal sense, but it has little merit from the psychiatric viewpoint. It is the opinion of a very respected authority “that any individual who can only, under all circumstances, enjoy one particular form of sexual activity; anyone who is compulsively or obsessively fixated on one single mode of sexual behavior; anyone who is fearfully and rigidly bound to any exclusive form of sexual participation, that individual is unquestionably sexually abnormal, perverted or neurotic.” (Ellis, Albert. Sex Without Guilt. New York: Grove Press, 1965. pp. 136–187).