Novel of Anal sex 1.

“How does a fellow get to be gay? I might not know all of the ways or the proper explanations, but I know of one way that’ll turn anybody gay and that’s to be married to a chick like Ellen. Yeah, Ellen, that’s the bitch’s name. I ought to know, because I was married to her for almost three years, and a hell of a marriage it was. Maybe I wouldn’t have made the mistake if I’d known more about women at the time that I married her, but I didn’t. Hell, she was the only woman I’d ever been to bed with more than once. I’d balled about four cunts before I met up with her but they were all one-night stands. Ellen, she seemed a little different and I guess I fell for her act.
“You know, people believe a lot of stuff about artists, about how we all don’t do much except slap paint on canvas and ball every babe in sight. Maybe that’s true for some artists, but I never knew one that it fitted. For me, anyway, after I’d been standing in front of an easel for five or six hours in a row, sweating my balls off and trying to figure out some way of getting what was in my head down onto canvas, I wasn’t ready for anything but a long time in the sack. And I do mean alone! I thought painting was damned hard work and I’ve never known a painter who didn’t agree with me on that, if on nothing else.
Bubble Butts 1

“I used to be a painter, you know. Maybe that’s what got Ellen interested in me in the first place. There were times when I suspected her of being in love with the idea of being married to a painter. I’d just had a show when I met her for the first time, and it turned out to be the last one I’d ever have. Nobody knew that at the time, though, least of all Ellen, and, while I got some pretty favorable comments after that first show, I couldn’t ever get it all back together again. I’m fairly well convinced that it was at least partly her fault. The way she nagged and prodded! Sure, I wanted to be a success as a painter, but, you know something? I think she wanted it even more! I’m certain that she’d have driven me into an insane asylum if I’d only have permitted her to do it. So long as it would have made her the wife of a prominent painter.
“The first time I ever saw her, at that first showing, she came on like a house afire. I’d never really had a girl come at me quite as strong as she did. She just broadsided me. Even if I’d wanted to get away from her, I doubt if I could have made it. Yeah, we wound up in bed together that night and did she ever lead me through the paces! All the girls I’d ever known, they were sort of shy and backward, especially when we got around to sex, and they’d act as though they weren’t quite sure whether they really wanted to go ahead with it or not.
“That wasn’t Ellen’s way at all! She virtually invited herself back to my studio after the show and, once we were inside, she just let down all the barriers. I’d barely even gotten the door closed and she was up against me, rubbing her knockers into my chest and feeling of my fly, trying to get her hand inside and on my cock. Naturally I didn’t resist very much and, almost before I knew what was happening, she had my cock out and was going down on me like I was the last man in the world! “That just about blew my mind, her eating me that way! I’d always been really wild about the idea of blow jobs, ever since I’d first heard about them, but I’d never before had a girl eat my dick. I’d stayed away from the gay side of things. I knew, of course, that there were guys around who’d go down on you but, at that time, I was all hung up on the idea of making it with girls. I just didn’t realize how good it can be, how natural and free it can be, with guys, you see. A lot of the time, when I was jerking off, I used to imagine that some really solid chick was kneeling there in front of me, just holding her mouth open and waiting while I jerked off and shot a big load of come into her mouth. “I’ll have to give her credit. Ellen really knew how to eat dick! I haven’t seen many guys on the gay side who were any better at sticking a cock than that babe. But, I doubt if she did it because she liked it. I think she’d already figured out that there were some guys who could be handled if you sucked them off good, and she was always ready to do whatever had to be done to get her way. Of all the people I’ve ever known, I’d say that she was the most shameless about it. I used to argue with her about the cold, ruthless way she used people, but, after a while, I gave it up. I just couldn’t make her see that it was wrong. She really believed you know that everybody else was just there for her convenience.
‘Well, anyway, she sucked me off and did a damned good job of it that first time. After I’d popped my nuts and filled her mouth full of come, she was just getting warmed up. She swallowed it all, every drop of it, but she was just beginning. After she’d sucked me off that first time she got up and started undressing, slow and sexy, giving me this big buildup about how she’d wanted me for so long.
‘‘Yes, we’ll get undressed and then I’ll finally get my fill of cock,” she said. “I’ve never had my fill, not all I wanted, and I never saw a man with a prick like yours, Freddie. I’ve got a strong suspicion that you’re the man who’ll be able to fuck me until I can’t take it any more!”
“I couldn’t say a word. I just pulled my clothes off and leaped onto her right there on the floor of the studio, I’d never had a girl say things like, that to me before, and hearing them from her was like a breath of fresh air. I just crawled on and we really went to town.
“So hard, so big and strong,” she purred as she aimed my dick into the mouth of her cunt. “Just the sort of thing I’ve been looking for! Oh, Freddie, darling, you’re tearing my cunt apart!”
“After a minute it sort of bothered me, the way she kept saying the most outlandish things. I don’t have anything against profanity, of course, but it bothered me, even then, hearing her say things like that. She had a vocabulary like a truck driver when she wanted to use it, and she had this idea that a lot of vulgar language made sex a lot better. I’m not built that way. For some curious reason, I don’t mind talk like that at all when I’m with guys, but from girls? It doesn’t quite seem to fit.
“But I didn’t have time to think about that, not then. As soon as she got my prick inside her, she started screaming and heaving about. I wasn’t sure but what I was hurting her or something. It wasn’t anything like that. It was just her way of trying to convince me that I was really a masterful, overpoweringly successful lover. Ellen could certainly give a convincing demonstration of a passionate woman working her way to an orgasm, though I didn’t really realize that she was faking until almost a year after we were married. That first time, she really went out of her way and put on an outstanding performance. By the time I got off her I was convinced that I was the greatest lover in the world, even though I hadn’t had all that much experience at it.
“Given the intensity of her attack, you might not be surprised to learn that it succeeded. It’s laughable, now that I can look back on it, to consider how mismatched we were. I had virtually no experience ‘with women and didn’t know the first thing about how devious and selfish they can be. I was twenty-one, the same age as Ellen, but she was about four hundred years ahead of me when it came to experience and knowledge of the world. I never did find out how many men she’d had before me. Once she said it was twenty-nine and other time she said it was thirty-four. But, by that time, I knew enough about her that I didn’t put any stock in anything she said.
“She got herself a painter for a husband, all right. Her old man was giving her plenty- probably so she’d stay away from him, if I know the old boy very well.
Also, she had a trust fund of her own besides that we had a great time of it on the honeymoon, Acapulco, Puerto Vallarta-all the places up and down Mexico’s Pacific coast. We spent a lot of time in bed, naturally, and it was then ‘that I began to get an inkling of what kind of evil was inside her.
“There were times, you see, when Ellen would really let go inside and she’d come on as something that was pretty close to her ‘natural self.’ I say “pretty close’ to it because I think she’d been deceiving herself and everybody else for so long that she’d forgotten what she really was, deep down inside. “But these times, when she forgot about keeping up her front, she could be just frightening in her intense concern for herself. That self seemed to come out most clearly in her sex life, which is perhaps one reason she didn’t really like sex. It threatened to get the best of her and it was something she wasn’t always able to ‘control to her own satisfaction. I don’t mean to say that there were ever times when Ellen was bursting with compassion for other people. There was never any danger of that. She was concerned only for herself. But at times the depth of that concern was simply frightening. Let me give you an example.
“When she came closest to losing control, she could be overwhelmingly domineering. You might recall that D. H. Lawrence has one of his characters speak of a certain type of woman, the type who ‘claws’ or ‘digs’ at a man, like an eagle tearing flesh out of an animal he’s just killed? I never understood the meaning of that phrase until one afternoon in Acapulco. It was about a week after the wedding, I suppose, and I’d dropped off to sleep after lunch. I woke up to find Ellen kneeling over me. She had my cock in her mouth and she was trying to suck me up to an erection. She succeeded in that, naturally, and as soon as I was hard enough for her purposes she rolled over onto her back and told me to get on her.
“Come on, hurry up and get that cock into me!” she snapped, just as if she were talking to one of the hotel’s servants. “I saw you lying there asleep and I decided that I had to have it again!”
“I couldn’t say anything I was so overpowered by her lust. She was like a wild animal, panting and staring until I began to wonder if perhaps she might be ill. She wouldn’t have anything but my prick, however, and I couldn’t do anything but give it to her. She’d already gotten me pretty well in the mood for another round. But when I got on her and had my prick in place, it was a lot different from what it had ever been before.
“Ellen had this peculiar habit when she was fucking. She didn’t like to hold a fellow with her feet. You know how most girls will hook their heels into your legs or lock them together around your back? She would never do that. She just hel4 me with her knees. She had a tremendous amount of power in her thighs, especially when you consider that she never did anything in the way of exercise, and she could clamp a grip on you that just about paralyzed you.
“This time she clamped her knees together and started working her hips up and down. Somehow she’d gotten hold of me different and her pubic hair was rubbing into the base of my belly. Between that hair and her pubic bones she was really digging into me, up and’ down in a steady beat. After a little while it got to be painful, she was rubbing so hard, and there wasn’t a thing I could do about it-I was pinned there between her knees and just locked into place.
“You might think it absurd that a grown man like myself-and I’m not exactly a weakling either!-couldn’t begin to move out of her grasp but it’s a fact. At first I didn’t want to move but later, when it got tube so tiresome and painful, I couldn’t get away from her for anything! And’ she kept rubbing, scratching, digging at me with that voracious cunt of hers! That’s when I understood what Lawrence meant. It flashed into my mind that she was devouring my prick with that cunt of hers and just almost eating my flesh. More and more, that image came to be in my mind, until I couldn’t look at her without thinking about a vulture, or a hawk, or an eagle tearing great hunks of flesh out of its prey…
“Ellen helped with that realization, I firmly believe. As soon as we got back from the honey moon and I’d settled back down to trying to paint, she immediately leaped into a social whirl of art life, and my own life became a living hell. I’ve never been especially fond of parties and gadding about from this townhouse to that penthouse, the way some people do, though for a few weeks it was an amusing change of pace. It didn’t take long, however, for me to see that most of these people were not interested in art. They were only interested in being seen in company with each other. They didn’t care about each other, only in being seen with each other. That’s an important distinction, I believe.
“I remember one evening, as we were dressing to go out to some place where Ellen had wangled us an invitation I became very tired and disillusioned with the whole business. I was tying my tie and suddenly I just stopped and looked at her in the mirror.
“What’s the point of all this?” I asked. “Why must we go out tonight and meet these people?” “Darling, it’s necessary if you’re to become a famous artist,” she told me.
“Some of the people there are very important in the art world and we must cultivate them.’ “I happened to know that the people we were going to meet that night were the same people we’d been seeing almost constantly. I also knew that none of them knew anything about painting, except what they told each other and that was only a half-understood mishmash of something they’d read in a newspaper. I said as much and Ellen just blew up! She ranted and raved, accused me of trying to short change her, of trying to disrupt her life and upset all her plans. She was really ticked off in a way that I’d never seen her before, never even suspected her of being capable of. That gave me something to think about, and I began doing some heavy thinking from that night onward.
“You know, Ellen, really believed that she could do it. I mean, that she could make me into a famous painter just by hanging around that kind of people, going along with them and catering to them. I tried to suggest to her a few ‘times that it might help if I were to be left alone long enough to do some painting, but she wouldn’t hear of that.
“‘Look at -,” she’d say. “He’s the talk of the town and does he matter? Does he know anything about color or space?”
“She had me there. The guy she named, along with three or four others were indeed famous- well, talked about a lot-and none of them knew very much about what they were doing. Of course they weren’t talked about by people who knew anything about painting but, when I pointed this out to Ellen, she just got madder.
“Him? He’s nothing but ‘a broken-down old faggot,” she said, when I mentioned one man who wasn’t at all impressed by her new idols. “Who pays any attention to him?”
“I could have told her that just about every body that cared or knew very much about painting paid a lot of attention to him, but she wasn’t interested, as I soon discovered. Ellen wanted herself a front-page painter, somebody who would help make her famous too. It took me several months to realize this and the truth only penetrated gradually. By that time we were really pretty far into this new social scene, and were finding that there was a lot of between4he-sheets activity going on all the time. You can’t imagine some of the grubby, filthy scenes taking place at some of the parties we attended! People grabbing at one another, tumbling into bed with the first person they could find. It was really vulgar and simpleminded.
“Ellen loved it, even down to the orgy-type affairs. I suppose it gave her a boost, thinking that she was living as artists lived; though precious few real artists ever lived like that! It wasn’t quite so surprising to me, finding that we were getting into that scene, because I’d already discovered that Ellen had all the moral fiber of, a common alley cat! She came in several times after a day out on the town, and was quite open about what she’d been doing. I mean, when your own wife opens up her purse and has to take her panties out to find her cigarettes; you begin to suspect that she hasn’t been out trying on hats!
Her adventures didn’t do anything to stultify her appetite for me, however, and more than once she made love to me when her pussy was still wet with another man’s come! “I confronted her with the fact, to be sure. She never even bothered denying it. Her explanation was that everybody else was doing it, so why shouldn’t she?
Furthermore, she would have me know, she believed that by being ‘nice’ to some of these people she would be able to build up my name and make me more of a well-known painter! As if fucking had anything to do with color and space and line! She really believed it, though, and there was simply nothing I could do to disabuse her of the silly idea.
“It was at one of these sex parties that I made my big break and first discovered that there was something to life besides lying between Ellen’s merciless thighs and having her claw at me with that vicious ‘little snatch of hers. Not that I was all that interested in making it with any of her women acquaintances-they were all at least as self-centered and callous as she.
Hardly any of them were even as physically attractive as Ellen. “She had a way of concealing her essential hardness under a soft covering so that it wasn’t apparent immediately. Mostly, at these affairs, I would screw Ellen and then sit back and drink while the others went at each other. Occasionally a woman would come by and suck me. A few of them, rather liked kneeling between my legs and eating my cock as I sipped at a Scotch and water.
“On this particular occasion, Ellen and I had been in a bedroom, stark naked and going through our usual routine. By this stage of our ‘marriage, I was frankly rather bored with her, the marriage, and the entire crowd. I showed it by just lying on her and allowing her to do whatever she would. It was rather a nice way of getting back at her, holding off on my orgasm, and she didn’t like it a bit. Probably because it told her that she wasn’t totally in control of my physical responses! “She fucked away at me until she got tired and then made me get off. Just as I rolled off her, another fellow ‘wandered into the room and began stroking his prick as he watched us. I was lying beside Ellen, about half-erect, and she was fuming with rage. She watched this fellow jerk off for a minute or two-he was exceptionally well hung, perhaps eight or nine inches and very thick-and then she conceived this desire to have him.
“‘Why don’t you let me do that for you?” she muttered, licking her lips and devouring him with her eyes. “Let me work my cunt’ around you -I’ll bring you off!”
“He got on her and they went at it for a minute or two, but then he decided he wanted her on top. Ellen agreed and they rolled over. I was sitting in a position that allowed me to see his cock going into her cunt and I watched with a great deal of interest. That big thing, so hard and round, exerted a strange power on me and I began wondering what it would be like to bold it in my hand.
Ellen kept grinding herself against him in an effort to bring him off, but she couldn’t. Twice in a row she had failed to convert a man into a gushing tool for her own use! She got off him after a while and stamped out of the room, leaving us there.
“I was glad that she had left and I said as much. The fellow agreed with me. I couldn’t take my eyes off his cock-it was positively hypnotic. Even though it was covered with that slimy, fishy oil a woman generates, I couldn’t help but think about sucking him,” or perhaps working him off with my hand. He saw my interest and smiled. “
“Why don’t you suck it?” he asked. “1 was really more interested in you anyway.
That bitch, she only uses men!”
“I couldn’t resist and so I did. I’d never done it to a man before but Ellen had sucked me often enough that I knew exactly how to make it good. I leaned over him and took his cock into my mouth. I wrapped my tongue around his prick and began lapping up and down the thick, hot shaft. Even though I detested the taste of cunt, I didn’t mind it so much that time because of.the way his cock felt. So warm, so filling! I began working my head up and down until I was actually flicking him with my mouth.
“He seized my head in his hands’ and began working his cock in and out. I kept on sucking and before very long, became a long, gushing, powerful shoot that overwhelmed me with joy. I felt my own cock leaping out of control and I came too. I never knew such pleasure as I felt at that moment. From that day on, I became more and more interested in men.”
An old saying has it that “some men are born queer and others become that way.”
The case of Freddie F. would appear to be an example of that aphorism being made real. Freddie, a tall and rough-hewn man in his middle thirties, was an artist, but also the personal secretary of a man who owned and managed one of the cities most prominent and successful art galleries. His employer had dealt in paintings all his adult life and had built up a reputation for knowledge and judgment that made his name a powerful force in the world of ‘art. Clearly, Freddie’s employer was not one of those celebrity-struck art buffs whom his wife adored.
In attempting to account for Freddie’s decision to confine his sexual activities to men, a decision which he took after that first experience at fellating a man, we must recognize that we are treading on dangerous ground. As one authority in the field has remarked, “There is no single theory that completely explains the cause of this aberration, what causes one person to become a homosexual may not hold’ true of another. Whether or not a child develops homosexual tendencies is dependent upon a number of contributory factors-parental influence, experiences of a sexual nature during childhood or early adolescence, feelings of inferiority associated with specific handicaps, personal reactions to home environment as well as susceptibility to influences within the community.” (Caprio, Variations in Sexual Behavior, p. 91.) Two of these factors, the second and third listed, are of special interest in further understanding Freddie’s behavior.
When asked to ‘describe his earliest sexual experiences, Freddie admitted that ‘he had learned to masturbate from a childhood friend. Neither of them had masturbated the other, though this is not necessary in order for the act to qualify as a homosexual experience in the strictest definition of the term.
Freddie and his friend quickly enlarged their circle of acquaintances and it was common for as many as half a dozen of the boys to be masturbating in unison. This is not unusual-behavior. The “circle jerk,” as childhood vernacular terms it, will be familiar to many of our readers.