Richard Long - Anal Secretaries

“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).

The key words in that quotation were those in italics. While Geraldine can achieve the greatest sexual pleasure only through anal intercourse, she does not restrict herself to that mode. She occasionally fellates her boyfriends and also performs vaginal intercourse, though her enjoyment of these is never very marked. Within the strict framework of deviancy as defined above, she would have to be labeled as “non-deviant.” For all that, she definitely has problems in the sexual area. As we have seen, the source of these problems lies rooted in her past. The chances of her overcoming those problems and learning to function sexually in a more orthodox pattern are very slight, especially since she does not want to change. Without the desire to change, little can be accomplished.

“Ever since I can remember, almost, Madge has had this fear that. I’m going to lose my cherry. Madge, she’s my stepmother but you’d think that she’d given birth to me herself, she’s so protective! Maybe she’s just trying extra hard to see that I don’t get into serious trouble, though I sometimes think that there’s something else working in her mind. The way she carries on you’d think that the worst possible thing that could happen to a girl would be for her to get screwed.

“What makes it even more ironic is that Madge herself is one of the most sex-minded women I’ve ever known or heard about. For a while I didn’t know that. You see, she married Daddy when I was seven-my real mother had died about three years before-and for a while I honestly didn’t know how to take her. I’ll say this for her-she isn’t a hypocrite! When I finally caught on to the meaning of those sounds that came out of their bedroom every night and confronted her with it she never even blinked.

“What’s so awful about doing things with a fellow?” I asked her one morning when she’d launched into one of her lectures about how awful it was to let a fellow do it to you. “You and Daddy do it to each other, don’t you? You both seemed to be enjoying it last night!”

“Of course we were,” she admitted. “It’s a wonderful thing, making love.

There’s no reason why we shouldn’t enjoy it. I’m sorry, though, that we disturbed you.”

“She went on to give me a long song-and-dance about how screwing was really an expression of love and that when two people screwed without being in love it was just an expression of animal lust. There were some more arguments she handed out but I don’t want to get into all that right now. The essence of her point was that screwing is not for kids. You’ve got to be grown up before you can do it.

“I don’t know why it is but every time I’ve ever heard that old crap about ‘Wait till you get older, you’re not mature enough,” I’ve just wanted to get into it all the more. Look at it this way-with the Pill being so available, you’re not likely to get pregnant, right? And if you watch what you’re doing, check the guy out a little and look for the signs, you’re not going to get the clap or the syph, are you? And even if you do, what’s the big worry? A couple of shots of penicillin or something and you’re as good as new. I know several of my friends had the clap and they’re not any the worse for it.

“Finally there’s the big thing about Madge’s way of looking at things. I’ve got this cherry and she swears that I’ve got to keep it for my husband. But what if I don’t get a husband? What if I decided to work a while after college before I get married? Christ, the dumb thing could rot off by that time. The kids would talk about me carrying a museum piece between my legs! Can you feature anyone making so much out of a little piece of membrane? It doesn’t make much sense to me.

“From what I can gather, I’m something of a rarity. I don’t mean just because I’m still a virgin, though that’s bad enough. I mean because I’ve got this cherry. The stuff I’ve read and the girls I’ve talked to all agree pretty well that it’s a biological accident, having one. I don’t know where Madge picked up this phobia of hers, that fixation or whatever you want to call it, but she’s determined that I’m going to keep mine intact. And all this when most of the girls I know never had one to start with! Why, Julie Monroe-she’s my best friend, I guess-she swore that she never had one at all and I believe her. She says that when her periods started she began using tampons and never noticed a thing. It was the same way when she first spread for a fellow. He just slipped the prick to her and she never felt anything pop or rip or tear. And I could name you several other girls who’ve had just about the same experience.