"I was just getting into the swing of things when Dave sort of pulled us apart. Let me tell you, he had trouble getting us to stop.
"The initiation so far wasn't too bad, and the fact is it never did really get rotten or anything. Just exciting.
"The next thing on the agenda was for Susie and me to give head to two of the people in the room. Total strangers. Or at least almost total. Our first venture in the game.
"Dave, as president, claimed the 'honor' for himself and Katy. That didn't bother me one bit. I'd been champing at the bit since I'd been there to start in on that beautiful body of Katy's.
"The whole group moved to the master bedroom, where there was the biggest bed I'd ever seen in my life. Honest to pete, it was huge. It made even a king-size bed look small. It had to be custom-made.
"Katy stripped down and sat on the end of the bed. 'Novice,' she said, 'lick my pussy.'
"Christ, I just about shot off when she said that. I moved toward her and got down on my knees. She was sitting there with her legs spread, her pussy wide open for my tongue.
"I didn't waste any time. I shoved my tongue right up into the neat little hole. I felt the muscles of her cunt grip at my tongue. Christ, she was talented with that cunt of hers.
"After I'd washed my tongue all over her pussy, she pushed my head away and boosted herself up on the bed. She laid flat out and with a hand gesture indicated I should get busy.
"Before I got back to licking and sucking on that full, lush body, I glanced over at Susie. She was hard at work on Dave. He, too, had stripped off his clothes and was lying on his back on the bed, his hands behind his head. Susie was leaning over him, working like hell with her tongue on his balls, on his cock, up his belly. She looked like she was having a ball.
"But I had action of my own, so I got started. I was determined that I was going to do such a good job of eating out Katy's cunt that she'd do nothing but come and then come again.
"I licked, I sucked, I kissed and bit. Everything. And Katy moaned and groaned and twisted around on that bed like she was having the time of her life.
"It took me about ten minutes of sucking to get her first rocks off. She moaned louder and I worked harder, moving as fast as I could at her cunt, with my teeth on her clit. Then sucking on the clit until she arched her back, moaning like somebody was killing her. She grabbed my head and mashed her cunt against my face. I worked my tongue furiously in her until her whole body shuddered. Wave after wave went through her body as she had a really giant come. I was so damned proud of myself I wanted to stand up and accept a medal.
"But I wasn't done with the initiation yet. And neither was Susie. Not by a long shot. We licked and sucked on so many people, and in turn got licked and sucked by so many other people, that when we headed home, we were the two most tired, but happiest, couple in the world."
Undoubtedly one of the most common expressions that one hears in the modern, helter-skelter, streamlined, rat-race times is the complaint: "I'm bored." It is often veiled in other terminology ("It's been a long week-and it's only Monday"; "What time is it?"; "It's a drag": "I wish we could go somewhere [we haven't been]"; "Yawn!"), but the meaning is unmistakably the same.
The reasons for such seemingly universal ennui and tedium can be probably honed down to no more than two in number, into which all the proffered excuses must invariably fall. The first reason is that within a system where the ethic is one of Darwinian "survival of the fittest," or "dog eat dog," the average man or woman has little time for anything other than struggling to survive; the member of such a system cannot afford to do anything other than try to make a living, and more often than not he is making a living by doing something he is totally disinterested in. The second reason is that, again, within such a system where specialization is considered to be the prime "survival weapon"-with the wages received being the "ammunition"-a man's sphere of interests is perforce limited to stringing telephone cables, digging ditches, editing material that deals with nothing other than the various functions and dysfunctions of motorcycle carburetors, selling brushes, or balancing financial statements at a pet-food factory, to list but a few "specializations." And this compartmentalization of "interests" and "knowledge" reaches even into the arts and sciences: there are art frame "specialists" who know nothing about art, there are ad copy "writers" who have never read a book in their life, there are ballet slipper designers who have never seen a ballet, there are poets, and "poets," and "limerickers"; there are optometrists, occultists, and opticians, there are ear-nose-and-throat specialists and dermatologists and proctologists. There are splinters and wedges of men galore; there are very few well-rounded, or "multiinterested," individuals who have no tithe to get imbedded in the morass of boredom, who cannot get so imbedded, because they are too busy rolling rapidly over boredom froth one interest to another, and still another.
J. C. F. von Schiller commented in his Die Jungfrau von Orleans (Joan of Arc):
Against stupidity the very gods Themselves contend in vain.
Almost a century later, Nietzche, in his The Antichrzst, paraphrased Schiller. He wrote: "Against boredom even the gods themselves struggle in vain."
Equating boredom with stupidity might be somewhat harsh-particularly in cases where boredom is concurrent with the performance of duties essential to the previously mentioned survival-however, in cases in which boredom is the state of oppressing blankness that fills one's leisure time it would be neither harsh nor false to equate boredom with ignorance.
Among the first recorded words of the subject of this case history, Steve I-, are the words "sick and tired of… " The next case in this study finds the subject, Kristi T-, stating: "Heading that list [of things she doesn't like] is boredom… " Neither of the two subjects appears to consider the fact that it is not so much "the run of the mill" sex with one and the same partner that is responsible for his and her boredom, but rather the absence of any individual interests and interests in common outside sex. In other words, the only meeting ground that was common to both Steve and his wife Susie was the bed, and having no avocational involvement in anything, it is not surprising that their minds turned toward the idea of breaking the boredom with which they were taken by seeking more sex and with others.
The fact that their orgiastic involvement with the West Coast "club," with which they got in contact via an ad in one of the underground papers, and which was apparently formed by Dave and Katy, did not eliminate their boredom is supported in the following portion of the subject's narrative where he states that after returning home from their "vacation" things got worse. And this, of course, prompted them again to get away from the boredom of their sexual life by seeking another form of sexual outlet, i.e., an outlet outside their marriage.
This type of reasoning for "escaping from boredom" could be compared to the reasoning of (for example) a service-station attendant who gets bored with pumping gas in a residential neighborhood, where he only comes in contact with the same old neighborhood coupes and sedans, and decides to get transferred to a downtown service station where he will have a variety of vehicles to service. Or of a man who gets tired of getting in and out of his own car whenever he feels like going for a drive and tries to solve his problem by renting a different car whenever he has the chance. Or of a commercial artist who finds drawing single-frame cartoons "a drag" and turns to creating comic strips. True, in two of the preceding examples the state of boredom is concurrent with making a living; even so, the escape is misdirected and brings the bored individual in a roundabout way back to the problem he had in the first place.