Guide to Oral Adultery

Chapter Two…

CASE HISTORY:

Name: Pamela M.

Age: 34

Pamela is a small, mousy woman who is married to a college professor. She is living proof of the old adage about appearances being deceiving for she looks like anything but the erotic type. When she spoke she blushed and lowered her eyes but this did not stop her from telling this most sensual story:

“I married fairly late in life… thirty. My husband, Thomas, is twelve years my senior and looks even older. His hair turned gray in his twenties and he never tried to cover it up. Unlike most men my husband takes a pride in looking mature. He doesn't have this youth complex that makes middle-aged men do their best to appear much younger. He tells me that his students at college respect him for it because too many teachers make themselves laughing stocks in their attempts to join the Now Generation. Thomas is the old-fashioned kind who believes that people should act their age.

“I used to teach school myself but on the ninth grade level. I quit after a year because I just couldn't handle children. I simply lacked the firm hand to keep the boys and girls in line. My parents were disappointed in me because they had paid so much for my education and now I proved a failure.

“After my mother died I moved back home to take care of dad. I was glad of the chance to be useful and make up for the failures in my life. My father told me that he didn't want to see me waste myself on taking care of him and urged me to take an apartment of my own. He wanted me to meet a young man and settle down. Since I was an only child he counted on me for grandchildren. I suppose this was another failure on my part since I was never able to produce any.

“In time my father stopped urging me to seek my own life and we had a nice enough life together. As a retired civil service employee he had a check coming in each month so we didn't have to worry about finances. It wasn't enough to live a life of luxury, of course, but retirement benefits took care of our needs.

“I was twenty-nine when my father died. Suddenly I was left alone in the world and didn't know where to turn. For one thing money became a problem. With my father dead there were no more retirement checks and he only left a few thousand in the bank. I considered going back to teaching but, at the last minute, I decided to sell the house instead to raise cash. After I collected close to thirty thousand on it I moved into a small apartment in a high-rise. I didn't have enough to live on for the rest of my life, naturally, but at least I didn't have to worry about finances for awhile.

“I had time on my hands and felt like an old lady at twenty-nine. With my father gone I no longer had a man in my life and I suddenly realized how lonely I was. Although I had a very nice apartment I dreaded going back to it at night. Just to hear another human voice I switched on the radio or the television set. I wanted to have a cat or dog but my lease forbade having animals in the building. And so, out of a feeling of unendurable loneliness, I forced myself out into the social stream again.

“Not far from my building were those 'single bars' where unmarried men and women got together. New York is filled with career girls in their twenties and thirties who have no other way to meet men. I didn't have a career but I certainly was single so I dropped around to one of them.

“It was early in the evening so there were more men in the bar then women. Females like to arrive late at places to make an entrance and to pretend that they weren't anxious for companionship. Since I had been out of the social swim for so long I had forgotten about these little ploys and the men stared at me when I went up to the bar and ordered a drink.

“I had picked a spot between two men about my age and felt their eyes on me. I knew that it would be only a matter of time before one of them would start a conversation. As you can see I'm not exactly a beauty but, in that bar at that time, I was someone to be competed for.

“The fellow on my right was the first to start a conversation. His name was Alan and he claimed he was an engineer. I say 'claimed' because strangers at bars usually lied about themselves. I lied, too, and said I was a free-lance writer. This sounded fashionable and also served to explain what I was doing at a bar so early. As one without regular hours time was my own.

“Alan bought me a couple of drinks and my inhibitions began to vanish. I started placing my hand on his legs and this gave him the idea I could be had for the asking. Well, maybe he was right. At my age I was more than ripe for love.

“Before I knew it I was out on the street with my pick-up. Alan led me to a cheap rooming house and we walked up four flights of stairs. For an 'engineer' he wasn't doing too well.

“I was pretty drunk because I wasn't used to alcohol. I let Alan lead me into his single room and I fell across the bed. My head swam and I felt his hands slip up under my dress. 'Don't-' I said weakly but he wasn't going to be stopped now.

“Alan licked my legs and sucked hickey marks on them. Sexual arousal made my nipples react and my vagina warmed quickly. I threw my arms against the mattress and let the man have his way with me. He stripped off the rest of my clothes and my body tingled under his leering gaze. 'You've got a cute little cunt,' he told me and began to take off his own clothes.

“He had a great body, I had to say that much for him. His penis was fully erected and I couldn't keep my eyes off it. I was much too shy to say something like: 'You've got a handsome big cock.'

“Alan placed his body on top of mine and he rammed his fleshy rod in between my legs. He wasn't wasting any time and I gasped as he thrust his meat back and forth. Alan was a rough lover who would make an experienced woman uneasy let alone a virgin.

“'Man, you're tight!' Alan exclaimed when he rammed into me.

“At first I thought he meant that I was drunk but I realized he was talking about my taut vagina. No doubt he figured that a woman my age had to have had a great number of men to loosen up her sexual slit. He kept pumping his large male organ into me despite my tightness and then released his come.

“He sighed heavily and pressed his weight down hard against my naked body. When he rolled off my flesh he could see why my cleft had been so narrow. 'You mean I busted you?' he asked with a boastful smile. 'Shit, and I thought you were a swinger!'

“It became increasingly obvious to me that Alan was just another handsome, virile nobody who cruised the singles bars in search of willing girls. I had no romantic illusions about him and marriage was out of the question. To him I was just something to pass the time with.

“I went back to the same bar the next day in hopes of meeting Alan but he was already pawing a new girl who was much younger and prettier than I was. For someone who had had intimate relations with me he acted as if I were a complete stranger and didn't even nod in my direction when I caught his eyes. I felt like the woman scorned.

“Another man at the bar offered to buy me a drink and I accepted. Once more I got loaded and wound up in a cheap room naked with a strange man. This began a brief fling at nymphomania and I gained a reputation at the singles bar as a 'sure lay'.

“I didn't mind giving men my body but I drew the line when they expected me to give them money. Since it became clear to the bar flies that I wasn't really a writer they all figured that I was some kind of heiress. While it was true I had a nice bundle of money in the bank it wasn't a fortune and it was all I had. The guys thought I was actually a millionairess who was being kept in check by lawyers who gave me just enough to live on each month. I didn't try to discourage this rumor since it gave me a touch of mystery. Of course, with the handsome studs thinking I was rich, it also gave me a lot of headaches. I became the target for con men.

“Martin was a clever one. He wasn't as obvious as the rest and pretended to love me for myself. I was so anxious to find a man and settle down that I told myself I was in love with him. Martin said he was an investment consular and it wasn't long before he had his hands on my thirty thousand. He seemed disappointed that it was all the money I had and that I wasn't a millionairess after all but he managed to put up a brave front… and disappear with just about every cent I had in the world.

“When I finally went to the police about Martin I found out that he was wanted in half the states in the union for bilking women out of their savings. Martin was never caught and I'm sure he's still busy making women fall in love with him.

“I was so disgusted with myself for being such a fool with men that I decided to give up sex. It was nice but I couldn't afford it. I had to find some kind of work to support myself so I went back into education not as a teacher but a staff worker in a nearby college. That's where I met Thomas.

“The first thing that impressed me about Thomas was his gray hair. He wasn't a young phony like the ones I used to find in bars. Thomas was a hard worker who didn't chase everything in skirts and I felt safe with him. When he asked me for dinner one night I accepted right away.

“Thomas said he liked me because I seemed down-to-earth and didn't throw myself at men. We had something in common. I didn't let Martin know why I appeared so cool to the opposite sex and let him believe I was a perfect lady.

“We dated for several months after that and Thomas never tried to get fresh with me. This didn't disappoint me because it proved that he wasn't another lecher. Thomas didn't give me an exciting life but he did give me a secure and safe one. It was as if I were back with my father again.

“I was thirty and Thomas was forty-two when we married, each for the first time. After having had so many rough-and-tumble lovers I could see that my new husband was somewhat undersexed.

Thomas was only forty-two and in good health but he simply wasn't interested much in passion. What he wanted more than anything else was companionship. I provided him with this just as I had provided it for my father. He had been my best friend and now my husband was in that role.

“After six months of marriage Thomas rationed out his sexual overtures to once every second week. Even then he performed intercourse as if it were a painful duty. As soon as he had an orgasm he would pull his penis out of my vagina and then go to sleep.

“Yes, Thomas didn't give me the sex I needed but I still loved him. All those other men had given me sex but none had ever loved me. Thomas loved me and this meant more than erotic gratification.

“It wasn't until the third year of our marriage that I felt the urge to have sex with another man. My husband worked mainly with post-graduate students; young men in their twenties. These fellows dropped by to see their teacher all the time so I had temptation staring me in the face. Most of these fellows were unmarried because they were only beginning their careers. They made me think of those bar flies who were always on the look-out for willing females. I was almost a decade older than most of these students but I found myself getting increasingly interested in them. They assumed that my interest was a professional one since, after all, I was the professor's wife.

“I tried to stop myself from being drawn into an adulterous relationship with one of my husband's students by attempting to get him to become more passionate. At night I would take his penis in my hand and play with it even though it wasn't our time of the month for sex. I would rub my pubic patch up against his legs at the same time but Thomas would always say something like: 'I'm too tired, dear.' Thomas was usually 'too tired.'

“The next day after one such night of frustrated love a young fellow named Dick came to see my husband. Thomas was delayed at school for some reason so I told the young man to make himself comfortable. I made both of us drinks and I kept staring at him. He was a very handsome boy with red hair and blue eyes. 'You must have a lot of girl friends,' I said bringing up the subject of sex quickly.

“'I'm too busy for girls,' he smiled and actually blushed. So few young men blush these days.

“The telephone rang at that point. Thomas called to say that he was going to be a couple of hours late. I didn't mention that Dick was waiting for him. I didn't want him to hurry home on the boy's account. I wanted Dick to myself.

“When I told the cute lad about my husband's call he said that he would come back some other day. I just couldn't bear to see him walk out of the house so I made him another drink. After a third drink we were both a little drunk. I rubbed up against the handsome young stud and groped at his crotch. When I did he finally realized just why I was detaining him and he pressed his lips against mine. I clutched at his firm young body. Dick started to unzip my dress and this made me pull away from him. 'No,' I breathed.

“The fellow looked annoyed. 'No?' he repeated. 'Isn't that what you wanted?'

“Dick reminded me of those fellows I used to pick up at bars, all right. Somehow I felt he, like them, would treat me as just another object. I remembered my promise not to have sex with these good looking studs anymore. I didn't want to be taken for a fool again no matter how much I wanted sex.

“'I guess I'll leave,' Dick told me, still burning over my rejection.

“I groped at his crotch and held him. 'Stay here,' I all but whispered.

“The student looked confused until I zipped his fly open. He was in a state of erection. My hands slipped over his iron-hard pole of sex. After all those limp nights with my husband it was good to grab a powerfully virile young man again. I wanted sex and yet I didn't want to commit adultery. There seemed to be only one solution. I went down on my knees…

“'A blow job?' I heard Dick say in wonder. 'Is that what you want to give me?'

“He was crude but correct. I licked the shiny, scarlet head of his stiff penis and then opened my mouth. The long bulk of his sex organ filled me and I bobbed my head up and down along his uplifted manhood.

“The young man stood in front of me with his pants and shorts down about his knees and his prick deep in my mouth. I kept fellating until the young man patted my head. 'I'm going to shoot my load,' he said as if by way of warning.

“I suppose he wanted to give me the choice of pulling my mouth away from him or not. Even in the midst of this oral passion he was being considerate. Maybe he wasn't so much like those bar flies, after all.

“I pushed my mouth all the way down his stiff tool and sucked. Dick climaxed. His flow was very strong and I kept swallowing down his hot and salty fluid. How very virile the lad was! Although I loved my middle-aged husband he just could not provide me with all the sex I craved for. Well, at least I was not committing adultery… not really. Mouthing wasn't fornicating.

“Dick's sex organ grew soft in my mouth and I stood up. I couldn't face him but he embraced me hard and, vital male that he was, he tried to take off my dress once more. Again I had to push him away. He smiled wickedly. 'You just like to go down, right?' he wanted to know.

“The student was patronizing me but I could hardly blame him. How many faculty wives perform acts of sex perversion on campus studs? I implored Dick not to spread the word about me. After all, there was my husband's reputation to think of as well as my own.

“Can I see you again?” he asked by way of answer.

“I then understood what he wanted. He wanted me to perform more oral acts upon him in the future. I was being blackmailed but I didn't care. I wanted to mouth Dick's virile manhood again.

“The student came back the following day, not to see my husband, but to see me. He thought I was a bit odd for only wanting oral sex, yet he didn't try to push any other kind upon me. We both stripped and went to bed. I licked his smooth, hard body and sucked his penis into spewing action once more.

“Dick returned time and time again until he grew tired of my weird sexual demands. On his last visit he told me that he wasn't going to come back until I screwed him in the regular way. 'Hell,' he complained, 'I know girls who do everything but French. You do it the other way around.'

“'Each to his and her own taste,' I replied lightly.

“'Well, getting Frenched all the time isn't my taste,' Dick said. 'I can get as much from a fag.'

“As much as I liked the strong and handsome boy, I couldn't give him my vagina. He had to be satisfied with my mouth or nothing. Eventually he picked nothing and didn't bother coming back.

“There was more than one stud on the campus and I knew I would never be lonely. I could've had teenaged lads, but I drew the line at child molestation. There were plenty of adult students in the post-graduate classes for me to play around with.

“I didn't even have to go looking for young men… they came to the house. At first they came to see Thomas, but soon I had them looking for me. When I started with Dick, I had to get high on alcohol, but I no longer needed to be braced up in such a fashion as I went down from stud to stud. The more men I had, the less guilty I became about sex.

“My dear husband became aware of these students who dropped by the house, but he was the typical absent-minded professor and never realized what the studs really wanted. 'These fellows keep missing me, dear,' he told me once. 'Try to hold them for me if I'm not going to be out too long.

“This made the situation weird. A muscular stud named Garry actually did want to see my husband for some reason, but he also wanted the use of my mouth. He arrived at the house an hour before Thomas and we went into the bedroom where we removed our clothes. Garry had a great body and one of the biggest pricks I had ever seen. When I mouthed him, I almost choked myself to death trying to get it all in. He shot his load and I felt as if I were drowning in his manly fluid.

“After I had sucked the young man off, he tried to mount me. Usually all I had to do was tell the stud to stop but this one was almost out of control. He got the head of his partially erected penis into my vagina and I clawed at his back so hard that I made him bleed. He screamed and slapped me. Once he lost that driving urge he apologized. 'I'm sorry, Pamela,' he said, 'but you really turn a guy on with that mouth of yours.”

“I was flattered. 'My husband will be home any minute so I'd better fix your back up first,' I told him and applied Band-Aids to his cuts which weren't deep at all.

“By the time Thomas came in, Garry was fully clothed and was sitting there with an innocent expression on his face. He talked with him for a half hour or so and then left. It never failed to amaze me that my husband never got the hint that his students were more interested in me than in him.

“But I'm afraid that he will find out sooner or later and that's why I want to stop my oral need for young males. In the past few years I've fellated over thirty men! I'm sure some of them have spoken to others about me, but I've been lucky since my reputation around the campus is still good. How good will it be if my secret is ever discovered? How much longer can this go on?

“Poor Thomas. He means so much to me. If I had a choice of having empty sex relations with an unlimited number of studs for the rest of my life and my middle-aged, sexually indifferent husband, I would pick Thomas. Championship is more important than sex in the long run and I don't want to lose a man who likes me for myself and not my mouth or my money. No man since my father had ever been so kind to me and, if I lose Thomas, I doubt that I will ever find another. I live in fear that one day he will find out about my affairs with his students and I will be cast out into the world again. At my age I can't afford to be an orphan. Once was enough.”

DIAGNOSIS:

Pamela may be in her thirties, but emotionally she is still a very young girl. When she lived alone and taught school she could not take it because she needed someone to lean on. After her mother died, she went to live with her father under the guise that he needed her care. Actually it was the other way around; Pamela needed the care and affection of her father.

As long as Pamela had a man in her life she was not bothered by her strong sexual drives, but once he died, these feelings came to surface. The young woman couldn't act upon these feelings because she was still too immature to face the world alone so she sold her house in order to have enough money to love on. This prevented her from going out and looking for a job. Yet she still needed a man and this need overpowered his basic shyness. Once she discovered the joys of sex, she went from man to man.

Martin, the con man who took all her money, was a traumatic shock to Pamela. She realized that she had been a fool and retreated from her new-found joys of sex. In Thomas she found a father she could center her life around once more because those had been the happiest years of her life.

The older man provided her with the companionship her father had given her, but he did not provide her with the sex she craved. If Thomas had been as virile as one of her studs had been, she would've been happy, but as it turned out, the professor was low-keyed as far as sex went. He probably had avoided marriage until he was forty-two because he was afraid he would not be able to satisfy the demands of a wife. In Pamela he thought he had found a like mind who was as low keyed as he, and was disappointed when she proved to be far more sensual than she appeared.

Benjamin Morse, in his book, MODERN MARRIAGE MANUAL, claims that many undersexed men have a deep fear of not meeting the demands of women, so they usually avoid marriage altogether. Men like Thomas, however, who find that they must have someone to live with, make sure that they pick a mate who doesn't seem to be sexual or demanding. When the professor thought that quiet Pamela filled this bill, he proposed, not knowing that she was quiet only because she had had too many sex affairs as was in seclusion from being hurt again by a new one. It was a case of mistaken identity when the pair met and married.

Pamela, however, wanted to relive her life with her father and so was able to take her husband's lack of sexual attention in stride… to a point. When a young student provided her with the opportunity to express her long-repressed sexual needs, Pamela let herself go. She turned to fellatio instead of fornication out of a belief that oral sex acts did not constitute adultery. Even in her most pressing needs, the woman could not hurt her husband.

The woman also picked fellatio as her form of sexual expression because she wanted to avoid repeating her former bout with near nymphomania since it had brought her so much unhappiness in the end. By mouthing men this time instead of fornicating them, she could feel that history would not repeat itself since she was not repeating the same kind of sexual sessions. In oralism, Pamela thought she found a way to release her longings and yet stay faithful to a man she really loved. When I made it clear to her that fellatio was adultery, Pamela wept. She realized that she had been kidding herself all along.

Today Pamela has made a good adjustment to life and marriage. Once she stopped rationalizing away her guilt about fellatio by claiming it wasn't really adultery, she stopped having lovers. Although her husband hasn't become more passionate, she is willing to accept what love he can give her. While young studs are very virile, none of them have given her what she values even more than sex… the security of an affectionate mature man. Emotionally, the thirty-four year old woman is still a little girl in need of a father despite her many affairs, oral and otherwise.