Guide to Oral Adultery

Chapter Four…

Case History:

Name: Alma K.

Age: 42

Alma is a tall, well-proportioned woman who is married to a lawyer. She has two children attending out-of-state colleges. The woman was referred to me after she had been found beaten in a hallway. Alma wore dark glasses all through the first session to hide the fact that both her eyes were swollen and bruised.

“You 11 forgive me if I don't take these glasses off. I look a sight. You would think I had been in a heavyweight boxing match and had come out the loser. Black eyes may look attractive on men, because it gives them that rugged look they all prize. As a woman, I hardly want to look rugged. What I would like to do is hide my face from the world until it is fully healed. My husband, Carl, feels differently. He thinks I'm in desperate need of psychological help. I am sure he's right. My husband is never wrong about anything.

“Carl is a corporation lawyer and our two sons are taking courses at college that will lead them into the legal profession. I feel stupid because I couldn't make it through college. It wasn't a matter of money, because my parents could well afford it. If I had enough brains, I could've gone on to be Ph. D. My husband had to work his way through school, and he always wondered why I never took advantage of my opportunities. Anyhow, he made sure that our sons were well educated. When the three of them get together I feel so left out. It is as they're talking in a different language.

“As a girl, I wasn't a bit interested in education and spent most of my time cutting classes. With some friends of mine I'd take in a movie. I used to get a beating when I got home and my parents kept shouting that I would never amount to anything. I always wondered why I should amount to anything; what was wrong with just enjoying life?

“Boys didn't like smart girls anyhow. They were comfortable with me and I was very popular. I made up my mind to marry early and raise a family. That is a woman's normal function.

“My parents didn't like to have me see too many boys. I suppose they were afraid I'd get pregnant or something. My parents were such squares. I don't think they liked sex at all because I was an only child. I always had the feeling that they tried sex just once and then found out that they didn't like it. I was the result of that one and only roll in the hay.

“I wanted more out of life than getting bored in school and marrying some juiceless jerk like my father. When I was sixteen, I ran away from home for the first time. I was so fed up with my folks trying to push me into a mold where I didn't belong that I had to escape.

A fellow in his thirties picked me up in a car and he kept asking me a lot of questions. I tried to lie and say that I was on my way to see friends, but I wasn't all that smart. He knew that I was a runaway. He pulled up to a dirt road and started kissing me. It was fun for awhile, but then he opened my blouse and pulled off my bra. I told him that I would scream if he kept that up, but he only laughed. 'Go right ahead,' he told me. 'There is nobody within miles of this spot.'

“I screamed and he just sat there. When I tried to get out of the car, he pulled me back. 'Take it easy, sweetheart,' he said. 'I just want a little fun.'

“His idea of fun was rape. He slapped me a few times to get me quiet and then he pulled his pants down. His dick was sticking up and he waved it in front of my face. 'Ever been fucked before?' he wanted to know.

“I shook my head and he told me that he had a special passion for virgins. 'I like to break you cherries in right,' he said and tore my skirt off.

“The man threw his entire weight against me and his penis was like a knife cutting into my flesh. I screamed even though I knew it was useless. He wasn't gentle and pumped his tube of flesh into me fast and hard, while I squirmed against the front seat of the car. Then he shot his juice. I felt it pour into my body like hot water. 'Like it, baby?' he kept asking. 'Like it?'

“The rapist actually thought I should enjoy being his victim. He pressed his body against mine until he had no more come left. As soon as he had satisfied himself, he had no use for me and kicked me out of the car. I was in the middle of nowhere, but I didn't care so long as I didn't have to face him any longer.

“I was lying in the dirt, naked and there was a lot of blood between my legs. I had to be grateful that he had thrown my clothes out along with me. I dried up the blood with my blouse and put my clothes back on and then started walking.

“After a couple of hours I reached a farm house where I called the police. When the cops came they acted as if I deserved my trouble. 'That's what you get for running away from home,' they said.

“Since I had given the police a good description of the man and his car, he was caught that day. He denied everything and stuck to his story that he had never seen me before. Because I couldn't actually prove he raped me, he was set free.

“If this wasn't bad enough, it turned out I was pregnant. My folks began to wonder if I had made up a rape story just to explain my condition. Anyhow, they arranged for an abortion. It was illegal, but they stuck their necks out that much for me. After if was over, they made sure I never stayed out later than ten at night.

“I didn't want to go to college, but I went just to please them. They picked an all-girls school to make sure I wouldn't come home with a belly filled with a bastard. Although I tried to make good at college, it was just no use and I dropped out. My parents all but stopped talking to me after that.

“I married Carl just to escape my home again. I really didn't love him, but he was in love with me. Carl was just too stiff and formal for my tastes. I liked warm, out-going boys you could have fun with. My parents liked Carl, though, and that was another reason I married him. I wanted to do something right for once in my life.

“Even though I slept with Carl and had two children by him, I never felt close to him. We just didn't have the same interests. I liked to watch television, but he said it was only for dopes. He liked lectures, but they bored me silly. I always wondered why he had picked me instead of another girl. When I asked him about this, he said that it was something he always asked himself.

“There are worst marriages, I suppose. Carl was a good provider, at least, and we bought a nice house out in the suburbs. While the community was attractive, I found it dull. I needed excitement but my husband didn't care about going out on weekends.

“When the boys grew up they brought their young friends to the house, and this was fun. I found that I had more in common with teen-aged kids than I did with my adult neighbors. This was fine until my sons outgrew me and became serious like their father. I was a stranger in my own home.

“When the boys went away to college, I was even more isolated than ever. Out of sheer boredom, I started drinking in the daytime. My husband put a quick end to this and all but ordered me to go to the city and take up courses in things like art. He was the one who started me on the road that led to this beating.

“Art, like everything else that was too high class, bored me to tears. Still, I went to the city and pretended to be interested in my culture classes. What I really did was see movies just as I had when I was a girl cutting classes at school.

“The movies I liked best were the Swedish sex films. Not many women went to these movies alone and I soon found out why. As soon as I sat down, a guy took a seat next to me. He started looking at my face instead of the screen, and then he placed his hand on my knee. I moved away and he took off without a word. It was exciting, really. I wondered how far he would've gone if I had accepted his overtures.

“When I went home that night, I kept thinking of the man in the movie house. I hadn't really gotten a good look at him, but he had appeared to be younger than I was. Maybe he wasn't a creep after all, but some lonely guy wanting to make contact with someone warm. I knew just how he felt. I've always wanted to make contact with someone warm, but it never happened.

“The next time I went to the city I picked a movie house in a district that sold nudist magazines and things like that. I wasn't interested in the picture; I just wanted someone to sit next to me. It wasn't long before a man sat next to me, even though the place was almost empty. I didn't move. Then I felt a pressure on my leg. I wanted to change seats, but I still sat there. This gave the man all the hint he needed. He had to know that I was willing to be picked up. 'Want some candy?' he asked, pushing a small box of taffy at me.

“I turned and faced him for the first time. He was about thirty and was poorly dressed. He needed a shave and I pegged him as a drifter who killed time in movie houses as I did. I took a taffy out of the little box and he pressed his hand tighter on my leg. My heart began to pound faster. After twenty years of marriage I was allowing another man to touch me.

“You live around here?' he whispered.

“'Visiting,' I explained.

“There was a pause and then he said, 'Want to go out and get coffee?'

“'All right.'

“I got up and he followed me out into the sunlight. We looked at one another more closely. I was afraid that he might be disappointed when he realized that I had at least a dozen years on him. But this didn't bother him at all.

“He told me that his name was Paul and that he had only arrived in the city a week ago. He said he worked as a truck loader which was the kind of job a drifter would take.

“We went to one of those cheap diners where coffee went for a dime a cup. It was obvious that Paul was almost broke, but I didn't make any move to pick up the twenty cent check. I didn't want him to feel that I was ready to buy him.

“Paul wasn't a hustler anyhow, but just a young man in need of sexual release. He knew that I was willing enough to be laid, but he had no place to bring me. He lived in one of those flophouses that didn't allow women guests.

“Paul brought me to a district near the waterfront that was lined with big, empty trucks waiting for ships to come in. I knew that he was looking for a place to make love and this made my hands tremble. Dogs made love, if that is the word, in the street. Yet, the very lowness of the situation thrilled me. My life had been so clean and square and I was ready for a little dirt.

“'This looks about right,' the young stranger said and pressed me against one of the trucks. Although I could hear the traffic going by, we were hidden from view. Of course, if a cop or a tramp walked behind the truck, we would be caught. I didn't mind. This made the whole affair that much more exciting.

“Paul pressed his lips against mine roughly and pawed at my body. He clamped his hands on my can and pushed his weight up and down against me in a screwing fashion, he started to pull my dress up.

“'No, not here, like this,' I whispered.

“'Where can we go? You got a car?'

“I had gone to the city via train, as usual so that haven was out. Paul was so sexually aroused by now that he wasn't in the mood to argue the point. He pulled my dress up to my waist and tugged at my panties. A chill swept over my body.

“'Don't do it,' I implored him.

“'Knock it off,' he responded sharply. 'You want a fuck as much as I do.'

“He pulled out his penis. It was stiff and ready for action. I was forty-two years old, a mother of two, and the wife of an important lawyer. Yet, here I was in the waterfront allowing a young tramp to claw at my flesh. What if he made me pregnant? I wasn't smart enough to make my husband think the child was his. I wasn't young, but I was still old enough to have a child.

“I grabbed Paul's prick more to protect myself than to indulge in lust.

“'Not now,' I begged.

“'Are you some kind of cock teaser?' he snapped angrily, his eyes blazing. 'I didn't leave a good movie for nothing.'

“Poor Paul. While the movie was inexpensive it was still a big thing in his budget and I had taken him away from it with the promise of sex. I pressed his warm rod of sex this time with passion. 'It wasn't for nothing,' I told him and slipped to my knees.

“His penis seemed even larger at close range. It was very hard and throbbing. Paul had an agonized need for release, any kind of release. I opened my mouth and leaned forward. His rod filled me and I began to suck.

“The young man sighed with pleasure as I fellated him. I took as much of his meat as I could and pulled back. Just as I reached the rounded head of his manhood I plunged down along his stick again. He was so in need of an outlet that he spewed semen only seconds after I had first made contact. I swallowed down his warm and vital maleness and I forgot about the traffic so very near the scene. Paul and his penis was all that mattered.

“As soon as he finished shooting his load, I got to my feet and brushed the dirt off my knees. Paul zipped his pants up. His unshaven face was calm and relaxed. All most men needed was a little love.

“'You go around blowing guys often?' he wanted to know.

“I told him that this was the first time. 'I don't know what got into me,' I told him honestly.

“'Honey,' he smiled, 'whatever it is, keep it up. If it's dick you want, you just have to hang around this area. There are more hard-ups per square mile here than any place on earth.'

“I took this as an offer and I was soon cruising the waterfront on a regular basis. Each time I went into the city it was with the excuse that I had to attend class. My husband never questioned me and seemed glad to have me out of the house.

“It was very easy to pick up men. All I had to do was stand in one spot long enough and they would come over and talk to me. I was usually taken for a hooker. This figured. How many women are there in the world who like to go down on strange men for the fun of it?

“The waterfront was a dirty, dangerous, and exciting place. I say dangerous because it was not an area for women. Once a thin, nervous man asked me for a cigarette. I knew that this was just an excuse to talk to me. He wasn't good looking, but I was willing enough to go all the way to my knees for him.

“When I gave him a cigarette he said in a low voice, 'How much?'

“'For a cigarette? Nothing.'

“I mean for your ass.'

“I laughed to myself. Once again I was being taken for a whore. When I told him that I wasn't what he thought I was he seemed surprised. He told me that he had watched me take men into hallways and leave a few minutes later.

“'Let's go into that hallway and find out what I do,' I told him.

“The area was filled with abandoned buildings where drunks and tramps lived with the rats. I took the little man into a nearby hallway that smelled of human waste. It was filthy, yet, as I said, filth seemed to arouse me.

“I went down on my knees and opened the fellow's fly. I pulled his penis out and started mouthing him. His sex organ grew slowly. When I brought him to the peak of his hardness, he let loose a great load of come. I took every drop and zipped his pants up. Then I got to my feet. He looked confused.

“'You mean you don't charge for that?' he asked.

“'No,' I answered. 'I French for the fun of it.'

“His eyes narrowed. 'You must be out of your head. Are you a rich hop-head or something?'

“He grabbed my handbag and searched through it. He took about thirty dollars and change and then tossed the bag aside. I didn't dare scream because I could never explain what I was doing in the waterfront with such a man.

“I had to send a collect telegram to my husband and get enough for the return train fare. I told him I had lost the money somehow and he didn't argue. He just couldn't believe that his nothing wife had a secret life on the side.

“After the robbery, I switched my cruising area because I didn't want to meet that creep, or anyone like him again. But, with my low tastes, this was unavoidable.

“I found this small park favored by drunks and drifters. The few women in the place made me look like a young and beautiful girl. I sat down on a bench and it wasn't long before this handsome young guy sat next to me. His name was Bill and he was a merchant seaman. I told him that I was passing through the city and had stopped at the park to rest my feet.

“'Yeah,' Bill said, 'you don't look like the type that hangs out here.'

“Bill lived aboard his ship, which was due to pull out the next day. This meant that, once again, I would have no room to share with my latest love. I didn't mind. Rooms were for lovers who had to go completely naked. All I needed was a bit of kneeling space and a half-way decent looking stud.

“The sailor invited me into a nearby bar for a drink. At least he had some money and was a few cuts above the men I had grown used to. The bar was filled with other sailors and I was the only woman present, except for a bar maid who seemed to resent the competition I was giving her. I was sure that she had me pegged as a hooker. What other female would allow seamen to pick her up in a park?

“Bill got sexier as he got drunker. He patted my waist and said, 'I'll be on that ship for three weeks without touching port I need something to keep me until then.'

“We staggered outside and I let Bill bring me into the men's room of the park's toilet. Both of us were so drunk that we didn't care who caught us. I sat down on a commode that didn't have a seat and opened his fly.

“'Wanna do it in the French way, sugar?' he grinned wickedly.

“'That's all right by me.'

“As he exposed himself, one of those awful drunks from the park stumbled into the toilet. He stared as I mouthed the sailor's prick. He then opened his pants and stood next to me as if expecting to be next on line. Bill pushed him away with one hand that sent him flying across the room.

“The man left silently and I continued to fellate Bill. He was so drunk that he couldn't get an erection. Alcohol depressed the sexual drive, even if it did lower the inhibitions.

“Suddenly, the toilet was crowded. It seemed that the first man had brought in support. They pulled Bill away and a fight began. I was so drunk myself, I didn't know what was going on exactly so I just ran the hell out of there. I kept on running until I was sure that no one was behind me. Then I sat down on the street and laughed. It was all really very funny.

“I was a split personality living in two entirely different worlds. In suburbia I was a respectable matron, but in the city I was an oral erotic who sought the lowest of men. It was only a matter of time before these two worlds collided.

“It happened when I was cruising the waterfront. A guy in his thirties fell in step with me and started talking. He never told me his name or profession, but I took him for a longshoreman. He was big and tough and he wore work clothes. When I invited him to visit a local hallway, he quickly agreed. I thought I was going to be in for a lot of sex because he was so virile looking.

“It was another dirty hallway like all the rest. On the walls were pornographic drawings of men and women engaged in the same kind of act I was about to perform on the stranger. I opened his pants and started playing with his dick.

“The man tried to lift my dress. 'No,' I said, 'I only use my mouth.'

“'Only?' he repeated. 'Hey, are you a guy in drag? A fag once tricked me into a blow job that way.'

“'Feel around and you tell me if I'm a man,' I offered.

“He slipped his hand under my dress and thrust a finger into my slit. As if to make sure of my sex, he licked the finger.

“'Yeah,' he grunted. 'You're real pussy alright. I know by the taste.'

“'So, another Frencher, right?' I smiled.

“I went to my knees. The man's penis was huge, about the biggest I had ever seen. It was as hard as iron and I could smell manly sweat coming out of his fly. I licked along the length of his manhood and then opened my mouth wide. He was so well-endowed that I could only get about half of his sex organ orally. My lips and tongue went wild over this treasure chest of penis.

“'Coming, baby,' he grunted.

“I pushed my mouth down as far as it could go and then felt his hot come shoot against the back of my throat. The size of his orgasm matched the size of his organ. He was like two men rolled into one. I kept mouthing and swallowing until he had nothing left to give. When I stood up to face him, I expected him to be calm and smiling. But instead, his tough face was contorted with hate.

“'You lousy pig!' he snapped.

“I drew back in fear. He seemed to be mad.

“'I hate you damned degenerates! he all but screamed. 'You are the scum of the world!'

“He punched me hard in the face and I bounced off a wall. I felt everything go black and he kept on hitting me with those big fists of his. I was sure he was going to kill me.

“I woke up in a hospital. The police had found me bleeding in that hallway and they had contacted my husband through what identification I had in my bag.

“Carl wanted to know what I was doing in such an area when I was supposed to be attending an art class. I tried to lie, but he was just too smart for me. He questioned me with his sharp legal mind and tongue, and I finally told him everything just to shut him up.

“When I told my husband that I had Frenched men along the waterfront, he was speechless for the first time in his life. He just didn't know what to say. He walked out of the hospital room and didn't come back until I was ready for discharge. The only way he could explain my actions was to say that I was insane and he insisted that I see you.

“Well, here I am. Now that you know the story, what do you suggest?”

DIAGNOSIS:

Alma is clearly a masochist who finds a strange pleasure in pain and humiliation. This can be found in her choice of “lovers.” Instead of looking for attractive, intelligent young men, she sought out the dregs of the city, the drunks and the drifters. Her choice of “love nests" such as hallways and toilets also indicates her warped need for humiliation. And, when she was robbed, she still returned to the waterfront as if hoping to find that same experience again.

Judd Marmor, in his book, Sexual Inversion, claims that masochists have a special fondness for performing oral sex acts upon others because it puts them in a kneeling and servile position. It can be noted, that Alma never once expected her men to mouth her and she was always the one to go to her knees.

Like all masochists, Alma has a low opinion of herself. This began when her parents tried to make her do school work she was not capable of. When she failed, she blamed herself. Instead of finding her own educational pace, she withdrew from competing with other students into the dream world of the movies she saw on the sly.

Although the woman is of normal intelligence, she considers herself “stupid” because she always compares herself with bright people like her husband and parents. One of the reasons she sought out men below her social level on the waterfront, was to escape a world she could not cope with in suburbia. She was even awed by her own sons.

Herbert J. Gans, in his book about suburbia called, The Levittowners, states that there are many women like Alma who feel they can't live up to the role of suburban housewife and would prefer the city where they wouldn't have to worry about status. As the wife of a corporation lawyer, Alma felt she had to keep up a certain intellectual front, but hated herself for not even being able to talk to her sons. Her flight into the city was actually a flight from the status of suburbia into the non-status of the waterfront.

Alma selected oral sex as her form of adultery at first because of her fear of becoming pregnant by a strange man. The rape of her girlhood with its pregnancy and abortion had left a deep mark on her personality and thus she was not able to allow her first man to engage in fornication. But, once she discovered that she could give satisfaction with her mouth, Alma was lost to the warped life of the oral adulteress.

I talked to Carl, Alma's husband, and told him of my findings. I pointed out that his wife had suffered from an inferiority complex all her life that had turned her into a masochist which, in turn, made her perform oral sex acts upon men in a low social level.

Once he understood this, he agreed to help Alma feel like an intelligent and wanted woman again who did not have to punish herself by rolling in the pig pens of life and lust.