Robert Sampson - Guide to Oral Adultery

CASE HISTORY:

Name: Ellen H.

Age: 29

Ellen is a very attractive young woman with black hair and blue eyes. She has been married to a stock broker for seven years but only recently has had extra-marital relations. Out of a desperate need to save her marriage, she came to me seeking professional help.

I don't know what's wrong with me, doctor. For seven years I've been happy with William and now, suddenly, I've been having these affairs. Remember a play about adultery called THE SEVEN YEAR ITCH? Maybe that's what I have. According to the play, the seventh year of a marriage is a dangerous one because that's when couples wonder infidelity is all it is cracked up to be and start looking around for someone else to satisfy their sexual itch. Well, this must be true because here I am in the office of a psychologist for the first time in my life.

My husband is exactly my age and very loving so you can't say that I've gone after other men because of neglect. If anything, William is OVERLY affectionate. There are few nights that he doesn't try something with me. If he can't get an erection he uses his mouth. Since neither one of us draws the line at French love, we have many ways in which to enjoy ourselves. People who just have straight sex must have awfully dull lives.

I used to think that I had no sexual hang-ups until recently. My parents were not prudes and understood that sex was an important part of life, so I wasn't exactly repressed. They didn't give me a license to go out and screw any boy I wanted, though. They were still old-fashioned enough to feel that girls should go to their marriage bed with their virginity intact.

As the only girl in a family of five boys, my virginity was well protected. My parents accepted the fact that boys were freer to sow their wild oats than I was and so looked the other way when they came in about dawn with sheepish expressions on their faces. While my mother scolded them a bit about their late hours, my father seemed proud that they were demonstrating their virility. There were no faggots in his brood of young studs.

Two of my brothers were older and two of them were younger than I was, so I had ample opportunity to see the male libido in action at all ages. When I was fourteen, I heard my two older brothers talking about their affairs with girls. As I listened in the dark and quiet of my bedroom, I used to masturbate thrusting my fingers in and out of my vagina. My brothers spoke of sex quite candidly as teenaged boys do, and their rough talk excited me. I sometimes thought that they were just telling one another lies but I later learned through girls at school, that my brothers were pretty advanced for their ages. How I envied them their freedom. How I wished I had a penis instead of a slit between my legs.

Is this what you doctors call penis-envy? I suppose every girl has it at one time or another in her life. A penis seems such a handy tool.. if you'll excuse the pun. With a tube of flesh, a person could screw through the world without a care but a slit is another matter. Girls had the fear of pregnancy hanging over their heads. In those days, before the Pill, out-of-wedlock babies were common and there wasn't a semester at school that didn't go by without at least one girl dropping out because she started to show the results of five minutes of passion in a parked car. It was little wonder my parents held me in tighter check then they did the boys. This irked me no end because I was aware of the double standard that said boys had a right to more sexual freedom than did girls.

When I was fifteen I had a very close brush with sex for the first time. A boy, a friend of my brothers, invited me into his finished basement for fun and games. I thought he meant childish sports like throwing darts or ping pong, but Harry was seventeen and at the peak of his manly powers.

As soon as we were alone he showed me some pictures excitedly. They were all pornographic. I've heard rumors to the effect that females are not supposed to be aroused by sex pictures as are males, but my heart pounded wildly when I saw the still shots of naked men and women in all sorts of poses. I still remember the first one. It was a close up of a woman sucking on an erected male organ.

Harry slid his hands over my body. When he pressed against my rear I felt his own dick in a state of erection. 'Like the pictures, Ellen?' he breathed hotly. 'Wouldn't you love to have some fun like that?'

I knew I should have thrown the pornographic pictures on the floor and stormed out of the house, but, erotic that I was, I stood there with the boy's stiff dong against my butts as I thumbed through still after still. This encouraged the guy and he grabbed at the crotch of my slacks. 'Let me see you naked, Ellen,' he said with a tight voice.

NAKED. The word thrilled me. In my daydreams about sex I always wondered what it would be like to be naked with a naked boy. I recalled all the times I screwed myself with my index finger trying to imagine that I was being fornicated by a boy. Harry's offer so took me by surprise that I didn't move. Again he took my silence for consent and he zipped his fly open. 'Ellen,' he said softly when he was exposed.

I turned around and saw a bared prick for the first time. It seemed very large and pink. Harry was seventeen and almost a man sexually. He took one of my hands and placed it on that upright pole of flesh. I trembled. This was the piece of meat that got so many girls into trouble. Fears of pregnancy swept through my head. 'I I don't want to,' I managed to say.

'It doesn't hurt,' the boy claimed. 'Ill be careful.'

My hand seemed welded to his hard prick and I just couldn't break contact with it. How warm and alive it felt in my hand! 'A baby,' I gasped. 'I don't want to get into trouble.'

'Then go down on me,' he all but begged.

'Go down?' I wondered, repeating his plea.

Then Harry told me what the phrase meant in short, crude words. He wanted me to mouth him just like the girl did in a pornographic still. For some reason his suggestion revolted me and I let go of his penis as if it were a red-hot rod of iron. I ran out of the house and kept running until I reached my own room. I locked the door as if attempting to lock out my own thoughts. Harry's sexual pass excited me and I stripped off all my clothes. I stood in front of the mirror and gazed at my blossoming body. My breasts were high, firm and conical and there was a thick covering of hair over my vagina. I was almost a woman as Harry was almost a man. I was as ready for sex as he was. I cursed myself for not giving in. All I would have had to do was to kneel in front of him and experience would have been mine.

I slipped my index finger into my cleft and played with my clitoris. My vagina became very warm and moist. I closed my eyes and thought of that first stag picture I had seen of the woman 'going down' on a man. Suddenly I took the finger out of my sex opening and started to suck on it. I tasted my own body but I imagined I was tasting male flesh. Harryhis pink, hard dick

My daydreams now turned to fellatio instead of fornication. With four brothers in the house I didn't have to strain my imagination, either. Now and then I would come upon one of them leaving the shower naked with his penis swinging. I had the idea that they sometimes exposed themselves to me on purpose but I wasn't about to complain. My penis-envy grew. Male sex organs seemed to be so much more attractive then feminine slits. A man could also have sex casually without the fear of losing his shape and his reputation. I cursed the Fate that made me a girl instead of a boy.

As I grew older, I began to enjoy being a girl, as the song goes. My penis-envy submerged as I went clothes-happy. Girls had much more freedom in dress than boys had, at least, and I bought one beautiful outfit after another. I didn't lack for male companionship and, as unattractive as I thought my vagina to be, it was frantically sought after by men and boys alike.