FOREWORD (58 page)

Men In Love

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Sometimes I pretend that the boy is my lover and lick all over his body, fondling his penis, kissing his mouth and sometimes just lying on him and holding him tight in my arms, feeling his nervous warmth.

I often fantasize about watching a group of two or three boys raping a young boy. The boys are seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, or twenty and have beautiful lean and muscular bodies and thick long hard pricks. They fuck, shit on, piss on, force to suck and degrade the boy, all to my arousal, Sometimes I fantasize about being raped the way I rape the boy. I think about an older teenager straddling me and forcing me to suck him. Even though I know it hurts, I become very aroused knowing some beautiful male is coming or pissing in my mouth. I lie there watching his body convulse and pump his climax as he forces his prick down me and comes. I try to imagine what he is thinking and how he feels as he pisses on me. I feel a kind of joy knowing that through me he is being sexually satisfied.

In all my fantasies someone is straddling someone else.

Ever since I can remember I have always become sexually aroused watching older boys wrestle and sit on each other, especially if the guy on top has his crotch up close to the face of the guy on the ground. I guess that is the feeling of domination that I get from this position.

In all my fantasies it seems as though I am brutally hurting the boy, yet in real life I would never think of beating anybody or causing any kind of physical harm.

In real life I am in love with another boy at my high school. I would do anything for him. It seems strange but I would never dream of doing the things I do in my fantasies with him. He is the most beautiful person in the world and I feel toward him like no other person. My parents know how I feel but I can’t tell him how I feel. He is presently going with a girl; and though I am upset, I am also glad that he is happy.

I will probably never be able to tell him how I feel and will always be only a buddy. Some day I will find someone I can love freely and honestly, but until that day I will have to keep Nancy Friday

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quiet about my preferences and not broadcast them around school, especially the one I attend.

JOE

I’m fifteen, in the middle of my adolescence, and gay. I’ve kept it to myself except for one other guy who’s bi. I haven’t let it out for fear of ridicule. I masturbate once, twice, or sometimes three or four times a day, and love it. I don’t fantasize too often when I’m beating off, but sure do during the day, at school, home, wherever I am and happen to see one hell of a good-looking hunk. I always come when I jerk off, no matter how long it takes.

My fantasy is about a guy I’ve never met, but just put together in my mind. It starts out with me going to some club (I don’t belong to one) where there’s a bunch of athletic shit going on and I’m going to go for a swim. I go to the locker room and just one guy is there. He’s around thirty. He’s a hunk, he has a beautiful build, he’s got a great tan, and we both begin to take our clothes off. I soon find out his tan is everywhere, which begins to drive me wild. His chest has just enough hair on it, not too much, not too little. He takes his shoes and socks off. Then he goes for his pants. He takes his time. I go wild although I try not to show it. He slides them down slowly, beautiful legs, not to mention what’s hiding under the underpants. He’s wearing tight white low-rise briefs, God how he fills them! He begins to notice me, especially because my underpants are sticking out. He gives me a little smile, but not enough to go for. I see his briefs getting a little larger than before. Suddenly he turns around, just before he takes the last stitch off, as if to tease me. The moment I’ve been waiting for is stopped short! But to make up for some of that he starts to take his underpants off with his nice round ass toward me. Slowly he takes it off, God what a nice ass!

It’s so perfect and smooth. His ass is just as tan as the rest of him, it’s enormous! My dick is as stiff and large as it can get.

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He goes to the showers, I follow. His cock slowly gets harder and bigger, I can’t stand it! He starts to wash himself (I’d gladly help him if he’d just ask) with a bar of soap. He starts out with his hairy chest, then he moves down toward his crotch. As he washes his cock it gets even bigger and harder! Until it’s as big and hard as it’ll ever get. I follow him out to the pool. We’re both nude. He dives gracefully into the pool. Nobody else is in sight. We start swimming around, he makes long graceful strokes. He begins to follow me. I “casually” slow down until he is finally swimming along beside me. I can see his gorgeous cock is still erect. We start swimming toward the shallow end until we’re in about five feet of water. We both stop swimming and stand up. He moves toward me, grabs, and embraces me! We start necking, I pretend to fight it a little and then surrender. I can feel his huge warm prick against mine. We move toward the edge of the pool, still embracing, and get out. We rinse off a little in the showers, then go toward the locker. I start to fondle his cock, teasing it, rubbing it, licking and sucking it. He loves it. Then he fondles me for a long time. He drives me wild, licking it all over. Then he starts to suck it. He goes up and down on me, flicking his tongue around the tip of my prick. Then I let go and come more than I ever have before.

I just lie there for a few minutes, then I see he’s horny as all hell, too. Then he takes me back to the shower and soaps down me and himself, fondling my cock again. Then he shoves his cock up my ass and goes in and out a bit. It feels great. Then he pulls it out and lets me do the same to him. I love it! I pull out and start to suck him off until he comes and comes and comes in my mouth. He puts some more soap on his prick and then walks out of the shower. He lies on his towel face down. I butt-fuck him until I come, wow! Then he lays me face up and gets on top of me, puts his enormous soapy cock just below my balls in between my legs and tells me to squeeze my legs together. We start necking. He begins to move his hips up and down, rubbing my balls as he does this, then he starts pressing harder and going faster, driving Nancy Friday

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me wild. I can’t hold on, I say I’m going to let go, he goes faster and harder! Then together we have one hell of an orgasm! We just lie there, frenching for a few minutes, then stand up and start to dress. He gives me his address, says I was great, and leaves.

If I could ever meet a man like him, anywhere, I’d love to fulfill that fantasy. I’m sure there’s a lot of people like me who would love to read this, if I could only meet them.

While most psychiatrists no longer label homosexuality as pathologic, they nevertheless usually say it is psychologically determined by fixation at an early level of development. Put another way: The fact that someone has oral or anal problems does not mean he will be gay, but the reverse is usually true –

if someone is gay, oral or anal ideas will hold a strong glamour for him. The fact that S&M plays so large a role in the gay life is usually given as additional evidence that homosexuality has its root in the pregenital stage of life dominated by spanking, discipline, punishment, and details of excretion.

Homosexuals themselves, on the other hand, put the emphasis on sexual preference and possibility. Their focus is on the mouth and anus, yes – but that is merely due to the fact that “you have to use your imagination on what you’ve got,” as one homosexual explained to me. “One opening in the body is as ‘natural’ and erotic as any other. If this weren’t so, you wouldn’t experience going down on a guy, or taking it up the ass, as a sexual kick. Hell, even women feel that way.” Life is all about choices.

19

Transvestites

The moment a baby is born, pink or blue ribbons are displayed. In identifying a stranger, the unknown’s gender is perhaps the first piece of information given. There is a primitive need in all of us to assign everyone his or her correct slot. The sexual confusion of long hair – “making boys look like girls” – caused more turmoil in more families than almost any other manifestation of the sixties.

Cultural notions of masculine vs. feminine signals may change – among the English Cavaliers, for instance, long hair was the very mark of a man – but there is a strong biological reason for anxieties about one’s basic sexual identity. In the animal kingdom, males and females are as vividly differentiated as manes, stripes, plumage, antlers, color, and odor will allow. The preservation of the species depends on sexual signals being unmistakably clear. Of all creatures on earth, only human beings deliberately blur gender distinctions.

Sometimes it is done in the service of fashion, fun, or excitement. At other times it can arouse horror, confusion, anger, and embarrassment.

It all depends on context. For instance, what are we to make of these people:

− the Yale halfback dressed in sassy skirts and net stockings, high kicking in the chorus line of his college musical.

− the beautiful boy wearing full makeup and a sequined Jean Harlow satin gown at Mardi Gras, New Orleans.

− the feminine figure pouring tea in her angora sweater, skirt, and pearls, who used to be a man before undergoing surgi-cal transformation.

− the father of three children, prancing in his wife’s underclothing before the mirror, his penis engorged with blood and excitement, but his heart in his mouth lest someone come home early and catch him.

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Are these people gay or straight? Are they transvestites, transsexuals, or just fooling around? The only thing we know about them right now is that for reasons of their own, they are wearing women’s clothes.

The football player is doing it for a laugh. The idea that anyone might think a supermacho stud like him “queer” is the joke.

The young boy in New Orleans may well be gay, but his joke is that he’s not hiding it. Flaunting it, making oneself into a caricature of both women and homosexuals, is one of the definitions of camping. He is not a true transvestite because it is not wearing women’s clothes per se that sexually excites him; the attention it gets him, outraging the solid citizens while his cohorts cheer –
that
is the charge. Public knowledge (or suspicion) that there is a penis under all that exaggerated female finery is the essence of drag, and the drag queen
does not want to be a woman.
None of this should be taken to mean that all homosexuals have a secret yen to be drag queens, but merely lack the nerve. The average homosexual would rather be hit by a truck.

To the transsexual pouring tea, her feminine clothing is the outward guise of what she inwardly feels herself to be heart and soul: a woman. She has often told friends that if not for the operation, she’d have committed suicide. She is proud of the vagina that surgery gave her.

To the man wearing his wife’s clothing, the idea of such castration is horrifying. Medically speaking, he is the only true transvestite in the group above. Seeing himself in the mirror in panties and bra gives him an erection he is proud of.

Some transvestites are gay, some are not. The fact that a man gets a kick out of wearing feminine attire in itself is no proof either way. Joey’s fantasy (below) combines elements of cross-dressing with a homosexual experience, but many transvestites are husbands and fathers who never had a homosexual encounter in their lives. George (below) was able to give his wife such ardent proof of his heterosexuality that she Men In Love

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was happy to join in his games by giving him a pair of her red lace panties to wear.

While the drag homosexual feels there is no point in dressing like a woman unless he can go out and show it off in public, it is enough for the true transvestite merely to see himself in women’s clothes; even if he is all alone in his bedroom, he feels unparalleled excitement. The drag queen has fantasies of the applause his act will bring. Some men are terrified that anyone – even a trusted, beloved wife – might find out. Nevertheless, cross-dressing holds such infinite allure that I have never heard of a transvestite who has not acted out his fantasies to some degree. It is ironic that of the four categories named above, only one is suffused with guilt about wearing feminine apparel. Trembling and eager to play with fire and yet afraid of being burned – this combination of excitement and guilt is the mark of the true transvestite.

JOEY

I enjoy getting dressed up as a girl. First I smoke a little pot to help get rid of inhibitions, then I put on a pair of stockings, garter belt (black with red bows), bra with socks stuffed in to give fullness, white lace panties, a halfslip and a pretty black dress. My hair is long and I put a little nail polish on my fingernails and toenails. My frame is slight and my ass and legs look feminine. A little makeup and I can pass as a girl. I look in the mirror and usually have a hard-on from the soft panties and the novelty of looking so cute. I take a pillow and put it down in my panties between my cock and my belly so my penis will rub against the nylon. I lie down on the bed and start fucking the pillow and dream something like this: I am sitting in a wide chair that is suspended over a naked man who is lying on a cushion on the floor. The chair has a canvas bottom with the center cut out. I am tied to the chair with my dress pulled up, sitting cross-legged and my pantied ass bulging through the chair pointing down at an eight-inch Nancy Friday

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black boner. The chair can be worked by manipulating the rope which goes through pulleys in the ceiling and this is shown me. They are playing a game with me and every time I give an incorrect answer, I will descend one inch toward the awaiting penis with the game starting at ten inches above his cock.

As can be expected, the questions are loaded and the rope and pulleys creak as my butt nears humiliation. They tease me and a seesawing motion jiggles my anus over the tip of the cock as I get one question right followed by a wrong one.

Black hands from below wiggle my lace panties up so my bottom is fully exposed. I can’t believe it, as I descend the next inch and the Vaseline-covered cock makes contact with my asshole. The questions are all tough now and he palms my cheeks as his cock goes in. It feels like a thousand prick-ing needles as the head stretches the walls of my anus. To add to the excitement, one guy holds a mirror and I watch as the prick goes in, inch by inch. Finally his balls come into contact with my hole and he is moaning. He is all the way in.