Roger Hornsby - The sex procurer

If I am different from other men, it is only a matter of degree. I like sex. Show me the man who doesn't. But how I get my sex is another thing; and what I do with it is also something else. I won't con you that I'm an innocent guy when it comes to getting fucked. I'm willing to do anything to get a lay. Sometimes I can be damned devious. The main thing is the lay.

Oh, I don't stop at the lay, either. I want something more than that. It's not just enough to know I've succeeded in lining up a fuck. I want to go further. I want to make sure that my mark is hooked on the stuff for good. There's nothing that pleases me better, for instance, than to know that a girl I've fucked ends up craving cock the rest of her life. That really turns me on. It makes everything I do worthwhile.

How did I get this way? Who knows? I only know I just happen to be this way. Oh, I suppose if I really looked into myself, I could see where it began. All I know is that I started out like most guys, just wanting to know all I could about cunt. After awhile though, I developed like I am now. It takes time – for all things.

I remember when I first got the idea of preying on somebody. That's right: preying. I even thought of it that way. I was only sixteen at the time, but I already knew what I wanted to do. There was this pissy cunt, fifteen, and her name was Wanda, and she lived next door to us, and she thought her shit didn't stink. She was new in the neighborhood and she thought she was better than everybody else. Well, I decided to make her, just to put her in her place.

I wasn't a big guy, even then; just average in size and not too good-looking. Oh, I wore my hair slick, and all that. But I didn't have much to travel on. Except I had a mean cock, even then. All my life I've had the kind of cock that stands up and does its own talking. And I counted on my cock to do a lot of talking with that cunt.

And she was a beautiful doll, too, let me tell you. A big-boned blonde, she had real sexy lips and the kind of eyes you call "smoky" or "bedroom". And knockers? Like nobody's business. Knockers and hips and ass and legs to stop Mack trucks. She was a solid big bitch of the first order.

But she didn't screw. That's the truth. The bitch was cherry at fifteen, and I wanted to smash that cherry like you smash the atom. Well, I wasn't alone. A lot of other guys wanted to make out, too. Her front step was like a bitch dog had peed on it. All the males in the neighborhood were lined up and hanging around.

Which didn't make her the most popular girl with the other broads, believe me. They were jealous as hell of her. They said she was a cock-teaser of the worst sort, and every one of those girls wanted to see Wanda lose her cherry. It played right into my hands when I came up with my scheme.

A cunt named Lily was my lead-in. She was a skinny little thing that fucked like a mink. But she put on a real clean front and you wouldn't think butter melted in her twat. Everybody who didn't know her thought she was a goody-goody girl. So did Wanda. Ha.

"Wanda really thinks you're the shits," I said to Lily one night when we met down by the drugstore, me standing alone like I liked to do even then. I've always been a loner; I like being a loner. It pays off. "She doesn't know you fuck, does she?"

Lily smiled big. She was a sick fuck, believe me, the kind that screw like crazy just to get a guy; any guy. She was as ugly as they come, and that's why probably Wanda didn't think she ever fucked.

After all, who would want to fuck her? That kind of thing.

And that's what Lily said. "She thinks I'm cherry, believe it or not," she said. "Ain't that a crock?" And Lily laughed a real brittle laugh.

"Like she won't have anything to do with cock, huh?"

"I think she's afraid of guys. Personally I think she wants a big dick more than anything else in the world."

"Every broad does. So do you."

"I get my cock, Ace, don't worry. I get all the cock I want." Lily got huffy. It hurt her pride to think she needed dicks. That's why she tried to keep them lined up all the time.

"Okay, Lily," I said, "I'll give you my cock if you do me a favor."

"I don't need your cock," she gave me back, but I knew she was humping for it already then. And that's why she added, "But I'm willing to help you out if you need help."

"That's big of you." I gave her a quick feel when nobody was passing. It juiced her up. "Here's the bit," I said. "I want to lay Wanda, and I want you to help me."

"How?" She eyed me narrowly.

"I don't know yet," I said, "But I just know I want to get into that house when her old lady and man ain't there. Think you can provide me?"

"She's scared of guys. Or at least she won't let any of them inside that house. You know that. Even when her parents are gone, she keeps them out. But I am willing to try for you, Ace. I'm willing to try."

"That's swell of you. And I'll repay you in kind." And I gave her another feel when nobody was looking.

A couple of days passed, and I didn't have a fucking plan in the world. All I knew was I wanted to get into that house. "Rape the bitch, if necessary," I told myself. "But get into that house." And I kept bugging that sick fuck Lily to get her ass in gear and swing things for me. Finally Lily said to me, "Her parents are going out tonight. I'm sleeping at her place."

"You think you can line me up?"

"Uh-uh. I hinted about you, but she's afraid."

"What'd you say?"

"That you'd like to know her."

"And?"

"No go. She says no guy's good enough for her."

"She honestly said that?"

"She's crazy, but it's the truth."

"So what do I do?"

"Do what you want. I'm just telling you the score. Her parents are going to be gone to a late party, and we're going to be sleeping together. More than that I can't tell you."

"So thanks." And I gave her the eye.

How the hell to get to that fucking Wanda? That became the problem. I thought of all kinds of angles. I thought of just going up, knocking on her door, and inviting myself into her house. I thought of asking to use their telephone; any crazy thing to get inside that house. And I finally came up with the simplest and most dangerous idea of all: climb into her bedroom.

Oh, it wasn't a hard job, and I'd actually thought about it before. I mean, after all, she lived in one of those sprawling ranch-style houses with everything on one floor. But when you're just sixteen, you're still not too daring. And if you can make a girl any other way, you prefer it to the final way, I guess.

Nevertheless, that's what I came up with for an idea. I'd climb the hell in her bedroom window and get at her that way. So I made plans for the occasion. I cased the joint, and figured the floor-plan according to some other houses on the street that I was familiar with. Then I waited till the lights went off that night and when I figured Wanda and Lily were in bed.

I slipped into their backyard, passed some bushes, and tried not to make a sound. Gravel on a path shifted under my tread and I had to step into some shrub beds by the window. But I kept the sound down, and I could hear their laughter in Wanda's bedroom. It was the dying kind of laughter, the kind you hear just before people are going to sleep. That kind.

I waited. Soon it was quiet. There was no talking, no more laughing; and then only heavy breathing came. I listened closely, and the breathing became regular. I was sure they were sleeping. I decided to make the move, and I slipped out a pair of wire-cutters and went to work on the screen.

After what seemed whole hours, stopping and starting according to the changes of rhythm in their breathing, I finally got at the hooks that held the screen to the windowsill, freed the screen from them and lowered it to the earth. I could see then directly into the room, and they were sleeping about fifteen feet away. It was just a matter of a slow climb, and I would be there beside them.