With Phil, who had multiple orgasms, it was the most fantastic experience. I climaxed almost immediately, breaking a promise Larry and I had made, that in swings we could give our bodies, but not our orgasms. Larry just sat there grinding his teeth to a powder and making fists of his hands. His poor partner must have gotten an inferiority complex when his usually big hard-on melted like an ice-cream stick.
Luckily Larry shut up until Phil and I had reached our climax, and then the fireworks started. “You did not keep your promise not to climax with another man. You even ate his ass, and you never eat mine!” he raged.
I suppose that last accusation could have justified his fury, because it is true, for some reason I never give Larry around-the-world. It’s just one of those things. But I never kiss him, either, because his mouth doesn’t turn me on. It is too thin and unsensuous.
However, as lovers go, Larry is not bad. He’s a damn sight better than when I first met him as a typical uptight Jewish man who had eaten pussy maybe once in his life, didn’t like it, and didn’t do it again. But, as with all my personal lovers, I taught him how to make love properly and how to please a woman.
However, I happen to like variety when I’m horny, and while I think I have made him understand this, it is impossible to make him accept it. Occasionally it drives him to fits of jealous anger. I am sure one of us will kill the other one day.
This almost happened in Puerto Rico last Christmas when Larry took me there for a week to rest and relax. We stayed at the El Conquistador, which is such a luxurious establishment that only very affluent older people and their young kids are there. A funicular train runs from the beach and pool up to the hotel. As far as action for me, there was nothing around except one beautiful-looking seventeen-year-old boy, tall as a sapling, with dark velvet eyes, sensuous, dramatic face, and that Continental-looking complexion that matched exactly with his longish golden-brown hair.
He was so gorgeous that I would think about him when Larry was making love to me.
But the closest we could get in the first couple of days was flirting across the casino tables under Larry’s hawklike gaze, or splashing each other in the pool during the day.
On the third night, when I saw him appear immaculately dressed in a black velvet suit and black tie, I decided to do something about my passion for the kid. I engineered an argument with Larry at the tables. “Listen, you are losing too much money on the tables, so if you want to keep gambling, count me out. I’m going for a walk,” I said, and left in a huff and rode the funicular down to the swimming pool, where I had already arranged to meet the kid.
When I arrived, I found he had his young brother with him; and he explained that his parents would not let one of them out without the other as chaperon.
Well, the two innocents lit up joints and started smoking them as we sat around the pool talking and kidding around. I was wearing a slinky décolleté dress, and the mosquitoes started biting my arms, so the kid gallantly suggested I go up to his room and protect myself. He was staying in his family’s huge suite, so he had to smuggle me inside by checking first to see if they were asleep, then leading me on tiptoe to his room, where he bolted the door behind us.
The whole scene of seducing this beautiful young boy while his mommy and daddy slept unaware in the next room was very exciting.
As I started to undress, the kid wrapped his arms around me and engaged me in the most exotic kiss as he skillfully started from my shoulders.
When I was as bare as the day I was born, the kid lowered me onto the bed like priceless porcelain and took off his own clothes, revealing that beautiful chest on which the hairs were not completely grown. I had a tantalizing glimpse of his young, strong penis before he snapped out the light and joined me.
As in my early days in Puerto Rico when I taught all the young boys the art of love, I was prepared to show my present lover the way. But before I could assume a lead, he started caressing and kissing me in a way that would make Don Juan look like an amateur, and he ate pussy perfectly.
Half an hour later, after making love passionately, we lay relaxing, and my curiosity about the sexual skills of this baby got the better of me.
“Tell me, how come you know so much about making a woman happy at your age?” I asked.
“My father is actually responsible for it in an indirect way,” he started telling me. “You see, he came to visit me on the West Coast, where I am studying cinematography, and while there introduced me to his mistress.
“During the course of an evening he became involved in a business discussion with an associate, and his mistress and I were left to ourselves and soon became interested in each other.
“When my father returned east, warning me never to let my mother know about his girl friend, she and I started seeing each other.”
Although I had been careful to conceal my profession from the kid, he told me his father’s mistress, whom he now secretly lived with, was a “business” girl and ten years older than himself.
As we talked lazily, I happened to look at my watch and discovered with horror that it was four A.M. – four hours since I had flounced out of the casino for a short walk.
“My God, I’ve got to get out of here,” I told my boy lover. “I’ve got a boyfriend waiting upstairs.”
As I threw my clothes on, the kid jumped into a pair of jeans, and, as any well-mannered man would do, insisted on escorting me home.
After waiting for the funicular for what seemed like an eternity, we rode up; we were to be confronted by the moon-washed outline of a very irate Larry standing on our balcony, which looked directly into each train car as it passed by.
There was no way he wouldn’t spot us, and no way he wouldn’t guess what we had been up to, since the kid was wearing a dinner suit when last seen, and suddenly he was in jeans.
We jumped off the funicular as it came to a halt, and hurried up to my floor. As we rounded the corridor corner, my bedroom door opened, and out into the hall came all my belongings – clothes, mirrors, brushes, combs, and luggage – onto the floor. I wouldn’t be surprised if next came Larry with a knife in his hand, so I told the kid to vanish. “El splitto, go, don’t hang around.” But Larry didn’t appear in the hall. Instead the bedroom door slammed, and I could hear him yelling at the kid as he boarded the funicular. “You fucking bastard, you fucked my wife. I’m going to tell your mother and father about this!” he screamed from the balcony at the top of his voice.
Lights of rudely awakened guests started peppering the front facade of the hotel, while meantime I was desperately trying to turn my key in the lock to get inside and shut Larry up. But he had jammed the keyhole with a toothpick.
As I poked and prodded, a well-dressed guest coming home late from the casino appeared in the hall.
“I’m sorry to trouble you, sir,” I said, “but, my lock seems to have stuck. I wonder, could you help me?”
The poor man looked a little tired, but he did his best to oblige. As he was bending down squinting into the stubborn lock, the door flew open to reveal a furious-faced Larry.
“You’re trying to fuck my wife, too,” he accused the poor passerby. “I’ll fix you all.”
Everybody started coming out into the hall, and it was excruciatingly embarrassing. I had to stop his paranoia at once, so I gave him a terrific shove back into the room, jumped inside, and slammed the door. Then the battle was on. We went for each other hammer and tongs, and I, being the stronger of the two, knocked Larry down onto the floor, grabbed his thick silver hair, and started pounding his head on the marble floor. One, two, three times I whammed it, until I realized that the next strike could kill him.