Gerald Summers - The Mouth Merchants

"I never did find out why no fucking was allowed, but whenever I felt the need for the old hambone to rip into a fresh pussy, I'd just take me a stroll down the boulevard and pick up some fresh cunt…"

The prognosis for Clyde S- is that eventually-unless his current attitudes are altered through contact with a mature and understanding female with whom an emotional involvement might develop-he will find himself where he fears to be: in a homosexual sphere.

No One Was Drunk

"This line of questioning is ridiculous and totally unnecessary: Besides, it is exceedingly humiliating. I shall see that you pay dearly for this-invasion of my privacy. Treating me as if I were a common criminal! Do you know who I am? I am Mrs. George D- S- and I have a home in the most exclusive Section of the city. A mansion, really.

"This coat I'm wearing. Sable. It probably cost more than a petty tyrant like you earns in a year. I have my own Jaguar, a station wagon just for shopping, and two-yes, two Continentals. You can't subject a person like that to the offensive third degree through which you're putting me.

"So it's not a third degree. So you don't use third degree. Call it a psychiatric examination if you wish, but I consider it an impertinent and offensive invasion of my privacy. And you'll pay dearly for it.

"Do you know whose yacht that is that was raided? You'll go pale when you hear the name. It had weight in this city-in this country- even in all of Europe. I suggest you crawl under that desk right now, before the roof falls in on you.

"So you've been threatened before? Well, I'm not threatening you. I'm just warning you. The raid on that yacht was entirely a mistake. Oh, I know who engineered it. That little pipaqueak! The very idea! Calling the coast patrol to say we were aground! Ridiculous! Well, yes. The yacht was aground. Somewhat. On a sand shelf. She'd have floated off by morning. In fact, she did.

"And that little pipsqueak, that social upstart, had the audacity to suggest that the patrol- take along a gendarme as there was a drunken orgy going on aboard.

"A drunken orgy! Absurd. No one was drunk. Oh, some of us had had a social drink or two, but no one was what you'd call drunk. Well, maybe Andy C-, but then he's permanently drunk. I don't see why anyone puts up with him, except that he's filthy rich. Certainly he's no good on a party like that. Just drinks until he passes out. And occupies a cabin sleeping it off. A cabin that could be put to far better use, at a party like that.

"A party like that? Well, it was just asocial evening, a gathering of friends with the same interests. What's any party? Are you trying to put me on the defensive? Let's just say it was a party. Aboard a yacht. Quite a magnificent yacht, beautifully fitted out. I understand it cost a fortune. I wish we could afford… Maybe, if George lands that contract, we can get…

"An orgy? Don't be absurd! Of course not. Just a quiet gathering of friends with the same interests…

"I resent that! I don't care what the report says. I had just slipped off my dress so as not to wrinkle it while I took a little nap. A brief rest. Yes, that was it. Just a brief rest.

"So I didn't have any clothes on! Is that criminal? It was a warm night. So I slipped out of my clothes. What's wrong with that?

"Let me see that report! I demand… All right. All right. The police may have seen a man in my cabin. Quite possibly. That would be Earl. Earl J-. Surely you've heard of him. He owns… Well, he probably dropped by to see how I was. Just friendly interest.

"In the buff? What a crude expression! He may have appeared nude, but on the boat most of us wore swimsuits. His could have been quite negligible. And been mistaken for nudity. Certainly you've seen bathing trunks that.

"I deny that! The police couldn't have seen his head between my legs and his penis in my mouth… I deny… Oh, God, how did I ever get into a mess like this? How did I ever get involved with that horrible crowd? They're degenerates! And now I'm one of them! Whore, strumpet, cocksucker!

"Is my mascara running? I must look a mess. Please. Thank you for the handkerchief. Yes, I would like to wash my face… There. I feel better now. Almost human.

"I can even face up to the fact of what I am, what I have become. It's not a pretty story… Well, I suppose so. You must be used to stories that aren't so pretty. Also, telling the story might help to orient myself. Might help me get a new perspective. Perhaps, even, a new life.

"Take a good look at me. How, old would you say I am? Thirty? Thirty-five? You say you never attempt to guess a woman's age? Very smart of you. I'm twenty-six. I look thirty-five without makeup and I feel a hundred. That's what four years of 'playing games' has done to me.

"Oh, understand, I like oral sex. You might say, I'm hooked on it. As far as I'm concerned, there's nothing wrong with oral sex. I like it. I have liked it for years. It's not that. It's the oral club angle that has gotten me down. Being available to any man who wants me. Being a whore at it.

"That's what I am, an oral whore. And my husband is my pimp. Oh, he doesn't do it for cash. That's too crude even for him. He does it for his clients. He's got a lot of really big accounts-now. For which he peddled my cunt. And my cocksucking mouth.

"I'm partly to blame. Maybe wholly to blame. I wanted that house on the Riviera and the Jaguar and the station wagon. The two Continentals are pure swank. But I wanted that sable coat. That represents the J- account. And we got it because I let Earl J- go down on me-and I sucked him off.

"'Oh, I've got no excuses. I needled George for those things-and he found the way to get them. Peddling my cunt and mouth. And I didn't mind. At first. I'd been taking my sex that way for years. Before I ever met George.

"I started on sex when I was in junior high. At about fourteen. Not that I really meant to, as it happens. But every girl is curious about sex. Boys, too, I guess. At that age. Until they've tried it. Then they're usually hooked on it. Sex is easy to get hooked on. Because it's pretty basic, I suppose.

"At fourteen I was pretty well developed, with nice legs. They had quit looking like baseball bats with knobby knees. And I had a real cute little rump. My tits were kind of new to me then and they bothered me some. I never knew quite what to do about them, you know. Hug my books up against me going home, alone at my desk so they wouldn't be noticed, or just let 'em stick out. Sometimes I tried one and sometimes the other. It didn't seem to make much difference. Inside me. I was just so conscious of 'em. And the way my nipples would get hard and stir things up.

"So I was what you might call ripe for what happened. Ellen, my best girl friend, who was also fourteen, and had had 'experiences' with boys, asked me over to her house, to help her baby-sit her kid brother, who was six. She giggled on the phone and said Jim might drop by and if I could come, she'd ask him to bring Al. She knew I sort of liked Al. In fact, I had a crush.on him, but he'd never much noticed me. He played drums with a combo and sang a little, so he had plenty of girls.

"I asked Mom if I could go-only I didn't mention the boys. After all, they might not turn up. So Mom let me go, even if I wasn't going to get paid. I made most of my own money babysitting. Not that we were really poor. There just never seemed to be enough money to go around-for things like blouses and hip-huggers and boots-the things a girl really needs, only parents don't always see it.

"Ellen met me at the door, giggling, and said the boys were already there but we couldn't make any noise because her kid brother would wake up. And he was a pest. Even asleep, he was a pest, because that meant we couldn't dance. And if you can't dance, what is there to do?