Well, Barbie and Don used up a role of film and got the hell out of there. They managed to get Eileen to pull the kid’s dress down before they took pictures of her. And Eileen told me all about this, and we figured out what it was all about.
See, Eileen’s old man digs watching sexual things. Eileen was working here regular hours, but she would also take an occasional trick home with her to Brooklyn, and her old man would hide in the closet so’s he could watch. And they only had like one room there so he would also take the kids in with him, and he would play with them sexually while he watched Eileen ball some stranger. Because what four-year-old kid would have the imagination to think of jerking off with the nipple of a baby bottle? Kids are sexual and they might touch themselves and all that, but they wouldn’t think of doing an in-and-out number, so obviously this was a trick her daddy taught her to do.
And I asked Eileen about this, and she said yeah, he had taught the kid, and she acted as though they thought it was a cute trick, like teaching a dog to roll over and play dead.
I always thought of myself as, you know, broadminded. Especially where matters of sex are concerned. But to lay a trip like that on a little kid, I just can’t relate to that at all. You wonder what kind of chance a kid like that has to grow up sane.
Well, they’re crazy anyway. Eileen’s old man would let the baby boy crawl in the gutters between parked cars. He would pick up hunks of dog shit and smear it in his hair and the guy would insist it just toughens up kids and builds up their resistance. That was a favorite expression of his, about building up the child’s resistance.
There are people in this world, man, that you shouldn’t let them walk around without a leash.
A Letter from Howard
Dear Mr. Wells,
I am writing to you because I just finished reading your book Come Fly With Us. I enjoyed it very much, but I am not writing to you just because of the book. I read on the back that you were a sexologist. I do know that the field of sexology is the study of sex or the interaction of the sexes among human beings. (If it sounds as though I looked it up in the dictionary, believe me I did.) What I liked in your book was that you said we could write as many times as we want to you and that you would keep our letters in the strictest of confidence.
First I’ll tell you a little about myself. I am a boy and my age is fifteen. I like reading books about the airlines. My father was a pilot and my mother was a stewardess. Both worked for a major domestic carrier. I myself would like to follow in my father’s footsteps. I look about three years younger than my age and I am very shy.
I really believe that I am sexually immature. My mother told me about sex. To me it was a waste of time because she only told me what happens to the sperm after it enters the female. She never told me how to do it. So how the hell am I supposed to know? I hope you get my point. I had to learn it on my own, from word of mouth etc., and I still don’t understand it all.
I hope you understand it is very hard to write this letter. I have never told my feelings to anyone before. I confide in you and I would like to tell you more. I just believe that you, John, can help me. This letter might be a little long but I’d rather put it down on paper now, because I’ll probably chicken out later on.
Not too many people would say that they themselves are sexually immature. But I must admit I am. I am very shy. I have never dated any girl in school. Oh, there was one, her name was Loretta, I knew her since third grade. I took her to a dance in seventh grade. That was all. No more dates. Nothing!!! She moved and that was it. I never kissed her or any other girl in school. Some kids in my class are already fucking each other, believe it or not. I haven’t even gotten a girl alone, let alone get my pants down to do anything. I just don’t seem to hit it off right. I’m sure you understand.
Do you believe that to this day I have never seen a Playboy or Penthouse mag. Okay, I have seen an old mag similar to it, but it was so old it almost fell apart. Another one I saw was a German one. It had pictures of people fucking each other in bed and standing up. But it was all in German. I’m always afraid to buy a Penthouse or Playboy. I feel as though the store owner won’t sell it to me. Would you do me a favor? When you send me your reply letter would you please send me an old copy of Playboy or Penthouse you have around, or please buy me a copy of each and I swear to God I’ll pay you. I don’t know. I’m just scared to hell to buy them. Thanks a lot!!! What age can you buy it and at what age did you start reading it? Do you know of any other mag that shows gals in the nude? If so, what is the name of it? Don’t the gay lib and homos have one with nude men? If so, what is the name of it?
I’ll tell you one thing. I have a lot of wet, and I mean wet dreams. I dream of the future when I get a stewardess in bed and fuck her out of her mind. Is it normal to have wet dreams? I started having them in seventh grade and am going into tenth grade now. Have you ever had any?
I bought the book Everything You Always Wanted to Know about Sex But Were Afraid to Ask. Well. I needed that book, because I had to learn it and was afraid to ask. The first chapter started to get interesting. It was Male Sexual Organs. But the first question that hits you is: How big is the normal penis?
Well, this question hit me hard. For me, I believe for the age of fifteen mine is way, and I mean way undersize. I wish it was over. (I hope you’re not getting sick.) Mine is about 2½” long with a 7/8” diameter. (Small, ain’t it.)
Now I have had many erections. Most of them happen during my wet dreams, of course, and when I read dirty books. During erection it is about 5½” long with 1 3/8” diameter. Now if you ask me, my cock should be 5½” long when it is not in erection.
I think I’m really screwed up. Hair is no problem, I got plenty of that. Well at least one gland is working right.
The reason I’m telling you all this is because in gym at school when you take showers (which I have never taken, namely because of the smallness of my cock and also because I’m afraid I might get an erection in the middle of it all) a friend of mine had a cock that topped all cocks. It was, no fooling, about eight inches long with a two-inch diameter. For his age it was big. I could imagine his erection size.
Now this next question may make you sick, but: Could you tell me if my cock is the right size for my age? Was yours bigger at my age? What size would you call normal for your age and my own? What is your size now with and without erection? And is there any way to enlarge them like with gals’ tits? You may say these are homo and queer questions, but trust me, I ain’t no homo and never will be. I just want advice.
So many kids in school say, “Oh, I jerked off last night with a bunch of my friends.” Even my best friend has asked me to jerk off with the gang. Screw him!! I’m afraid to ask what jerking off is and how to do it because I’d be the laughing stock. But I’m going to ask you. What is it, and how do you do it? If it’s good maybe I’ll go one night.
John, I’d like to ask you some personal questions. How old are you? Are you married? If so, how many kids? Have you ever blown a girl and has a girl ever blown you? Could you please describe it and your feelings when she blew you and when you blew her. Has a girl ever had your cock in her mouth? How does it feel? What happens if you eject in her mouth? Have you ever jerked off? How does it feel? What does it feel like sucking a girl’s tit? I will treat your letter the same way you treat mine, in the strictest of confidence.
You know, John, in sex-filled books they say, “Steve brought Janet to a drive-in and fucked her in the back seat.” Have you ever fucked someone at a drive-in? If so, could you give me a blow-by-blow description? If you haven’t fucked a girl in a drive-in, could you please describe a blow-by-blow description of the first time you ever, ever got laid? (Please tell me both) How old were you then? How did it feel for the first time? You know, John, I’m asking you these questions because books are mostly fiction and I’d like to ask someone who has really done it. I just want advice. I hope you understand my point.
You know, I have never gotten
drunk in my life. I don’t drink or smoke. Oh yes, there was one time I smoked. It was in the eighth grade. I tried smoking cigarettes. They were pretty good. I never got into the habit. But I’d like to smoke again once I’m about 24 or so.
John, you know I have so much to tell you about myself, but this letter is already too long. I’m glad I have finally written it all down on paper and I feel better now that I have. I read in your book that some letters you get are made up. Well, I’ll tell you as sure as hell this one is not. I’ll be awaiting your answer soon. Please send it as soon as possible. I would like to write you more often and tell you my feelings and hopefully meet you someday. Feel free to put this letter on file.
. . . Well, thanks again. I sure hope you can help, because I need it all. I don’t know how much I can thank you. It has been hard writing this letter because you are the only person I have ever told these things to, because I trust you, I know you will listen and will answer, I know you will help, and I know you’ll do what I tell you.
Thanks a billion!!!
Sincerely yours,
Howard
Same Background Notes To An Open Marriage
Herbie and Saralee live on the outskirts of a small Midwestern village. They are in their early twenties and have been married for almost two years. They have a baby a few months old. Herbie is long and lean and angular, and both his drawl and the cut of his features are evocative of the hill country. She is short and curvy, with a heart-shaped face and an open expression. He is a mechanic and works for an older relative. She graduated from college and hopes to teach high school. He is an Aries and she is a Gemini, if you keep track of such things.
From the onset of their marriage, Herbie and Saralee have had an open relationship, with each free to have sexual relations with other partners. They are both interested in swinging, but their relative geographical isolation has thus far limited their opportunities.
Saralee began writing to me in response to a book of mine on female bisexuality, a topic which is something of an obsession for Herbie. I later printed two of her letters in a book called Doing Your Thing, with the notation that, jaded as I have become over the years, Saralee somehow had the ability to write letters I found stimulating. The two letters consisted primarily of a discussion of her sexual experiences since her first meeting with Herbie, along with her plans for further sexual experimentation. The interested reader might want to refer to them.
Since then I’ve received two further letters, one from each of them, in which they discuss their early sexual experiences. I learned from these letters that both of them had a particular motive in writing to me; I served as a medium through which they could confide matters to each other that they were unable to speak of directly with one another. I had realized long ago that correspondence with me is often a vehicle for self-discovery, but Herbie and Saralee took this a step further, showing each other their letters to me and thus facilitating self-revelation with which they would have otherwise been uncomfortable.
Dear Jack,
First I’ll start by telling you about the night I went to bed with this guy named Jeff. He’s getting married in a couple of months and wanted Herbie and me to get him fixed up with this girl he went with one time before. He wanted to have a good time, but mainly wanted to fuck. So we got them together. He went and got her and brought her out to our house. We all sat around and talked, and of course the topic got to sex. Jeff sat there and got a hard-on about three times and finally asked Lois to go to bed with him, and she wouldn’t do it. So he said, “Herbie, do you mind if I go to bed with your wife?” Herbie said, “It’s not up to me, it’s up to her.” So I said, “Let’s go.”
So when we went in the bedroom the light was on and he wanted to turn it off, but I said no, so we didn’t. We went ahead and took our clothes off and got in bed and he couldn’t get a hard-on. I sucked him and still no reaction. Poor guy felt so embarrassed. He said, “Well, I’ve got you ready for Herbie,” and I was hotter than hell. We talked for a while and then got dressed and went back in the living room and he took Lois home. Herbie and Lois had been talking about why she wouldn’t do anything and what she thought about all this. I don’t think she was too happy—but she was given first choice and didn’t want it. Needless to say, Herbie and I fucked after they left, cause I was so horny I couldn’t take it . . .
Here it is a new day since I wrote the first part of this letter, and I have something different on my mind that I’d like to talk about. I don’t know if I’m writing this for your benefit or my husband’s, cause this has to do with some childhood experiences that I had and never told anyone about. So psychologically I think the reason I’m writing this is that I want my husband to know and he will know before you since he always reads my letters before I mail them.
These episodes date back to when I was about five and six years old. So this is how I learned about sex. I was an only child until I was eight and then my only sister was born, so there were never any boys around for me to learn about the opposite sex, although I knew what it was, cause I lived on a farm and there were always animals here and there fucking, and I could relate that to humans, but still I wanted to see a boy’s dick.
The first boy’s dick that I ever saw was my cousin Ed’s. Here’s how it happened. He was an only child and we were always outside playing. So one day he had to piss. When he did, he told me he was going to, but then turned his back to me.
So I said, “How come you turned around so I couldn’t see you?” So he gave me the usual line—“I’ll show you mine if you’ll show me yours.” So he took the next step and said, “Can I feel it? I’ll let you feel mine.” And of course this was what I’d been wanting and we quickly touched each other and then put our clothes back on so no one could tell what we had been doing.
After that every time we could get alone together we would feel each other’s “things.” Then I asked him what it was called and he said all he knew was “pee-wee” but he’d talk to an older boy who lived down the road. The next time we were together he told me it was either called “peter” or “dick.” I had a hard time understanding how it could be called both of these, but was thrilled that I’d learned such valuable information.
The next episode of my childhood also took place before I started school, and it was with a neighbor girl named Janice. She and I played together almost every day and we had a playhouse out under a big tree behind my house. One day she said, “Can I see what color panties you have on today?” So I showed her and she showed me hers. Then she said, “Let me show you what I’ve learned to do.” She got a chicken feather, pulled down her panties, sat down, and started tickling her pussy with the feather. She said, “Get yourself a feather and do it.” I said, “No, I’m afraid to,” so she said, “Here, I’ll do it for you.” She got a feather and I pulled down my panties and she said, “Sit down and open it up,” so I did, and she rubbed the feather back and forth over my clit, and I admitted that it felt good. That was the only sexual thing we ever did together. I think we did it every day for about two weeks and then it was forgotten.
The next thing I recall vividly was with my girlfriend at her house. We were in third grade and I was staying all night at her house. She and I were made to go to bed at 10 p.m. and neither of us wanted to, so she said, “I know a game we can play.” I said, “What?” She said, “There’s a little man on my foot, make him get off.” I said, “Get off, little man,” but soon found that this wasn’t what she wanted. She said, “No, that’s not how you play. You have to reach down there and make him move.” I reached down and got hold of her foot and said, “Now he’s off.”
She said, “He jumped over on you. Where is he?” I said, “There’s a little man on my head.” So she reached up and got my head and told him to get off. This went on until we were touching all over each other’s bodies. We had on baby doll pajamas, but of course the little man was hiding under them, so we kept touching each other’s tits and cunts until her parents heard us talking an
d made us get quiet. So we went to sleep, and that was the only time we ever played that little game.
The next sexual encounter was just with myself and a dog. I was outside by where our dog was tied and decided I needed to piss. So I squatted down and the dog came over and tried to lick my pussy. So this gave me an idea and I proceeded to let him, cause it felt good, and I knew no one would be able to find out. The dog was a boy and its prick got erect and was sticking out, so I reached down and got hold of it. Soon the dog was hunching and I was excited as could be. It was then I wondered what it would be like to be fucked, but would never have dared do it with the dog, for fear of having puppies. Anal intercourse never occurred to me cause I’d never heard of it and was only eight or nine at the time.
I walked in on Dad getting dressed one day and although he didn’t know it I saw his penis and at the time it was erect and I thought, “Do all boys’ dicks get that big?” I don’t have any idea now how long it was, probably about average, but to a little girl it was huge! I didn’t even know that cocks even got erect. I thought they stayed the same size all the time.
As I got older I’d stay awake when I went to bed so I could listen to Mom and Dad fucking. I would have given anything to have watched, but would surely have gotten caught.
Later when I got so I knew what all the slang and “big words” meant, I’d get Dad’s dirty books and read them when no one was around. He’d put them up where he thought I couldn’t find them, but I knew where they were, so I sneaked one out and read it every time I got a chance. My favorite was Sexology cause I liked the questions and answers.
I had to learn some way, cause Mom and Dad never told me anything about sex and I was afraid to say anything to them about it, cause it was always something I was too little to hear about. I can tell you one thing—my daughter is going to be far better educated in sex than I was. I learned it, but only by sneaking around, and still I can’t talk to my parents openly about it.
Love at a Tender Age (John Warren Wells on Sexual Behavior) Page 8