soon. Then he got up and smiled and told me not to tell my mommy and daddy about our little games together, because they wouldn't understand. I promised I wouldn't, and I didn't either.'
Generally, sex offenders with children are caught because the children do tell, but in this instance the six year old girl treated it as a secret and didn't tell. The uncle's insistance on playing variations of the game, however, succeed in getting him caught.
One night when she was getting ready for bed, the uncle asked her if she remembered how he'd always kissed her in special spots to make it better, and when she said yes, he told her that he had a spot that needed kissing because it ached him something terrible.
The girl was instantly sympathetic and said she would, thinking it was a game he was playing. Then the uncle took off his trousers and underwear and stood there beside the bed in front of her. He pointed to the tip of his penis and said the reason it was so swollen at the top and so red-looking was because it hurt so much.
He moved even closer so it was right in front of her face, and he said, 'Go on, honey, kiss it better.'
The girl needed some convincing. She'd seen her father go to the bathroom, so she knew that part of the male anatomy, though certainly not well. Still, it embarrassed her, so she shook her head no.
'But you promised,' the uncle said in a hurt tone of voice. 'Look how sore it is. It's starting to throb.'
The young girl realized he was right. It was not only throbbing, it was swelling up in size. Impulsively, she reached out, grasped his sex organ and planted her soft lips on the tip of it.
The uncle sighed and told her it felt so much better already. He urged her to keep kissing it, to make it better.'
The girl reported that she didn't really like the taste but the uncle seemed to feel so much better that she didn't want to disappoint him. So she held onto it with both hands and kept kissing it, not only on the tip but all over. Instead of the swelling going down, though, it increased as did the throbbing. Then suddenly it began to shake and it started spurting all over.
It frightened her, but the uncle sat down on the bed, pulled her close and kissed' her warmly, 'See, he said a moment later, you kissed it better.'
The girl looked, and sure enough, the thing she'd kissed was now hanging limply between the uncle's legs. The next day, she was so proud of what she'd done and despite the uncle's warning, she told her mother of the good deed she'd done.
Needless to say, the shocked mother told an equally shocked father, and uncle's days of kissing anything better were soon a thing of the past.
The use of a child of either sex as an oral sex object, on the receiving or the giving end, by an older person or by one of his or. her contemporaries is pretty far from the desired norm The average person who is more Interested m the total human rather than only the genitals and their manipulation by lips, mouth and tongue, has a difficult time in understanding the oral sex urge when it reaches such basic levels.
Chapter II
I'm not really sure if there are other girls like me. For a long time I was so embarrassed about the way I am that I wouldn't even admit it to myself. But I suffered such shame and guilt that I'm willing to let my diary be published if it'll help just one girl to know she's not alone in the world. If there's another girl somewhere who has the same driving need to… well, to do the nasty sex things I always wanted to do without admitting it-that girl needs all the moral support she can get.'
So states the young female victim of an overpowering sexual perversion which to this day dominates her intimate sexual relationships. Gwenn Henderson, as we shall call her to protect her identity, is twenty-one years old at the time of this writing. She is a file clerk in an Encino bank where she has been employed for almost a year.
With respect to these isolated facts, of course, Gwenn bears a resemblance to literally hundreds of other girls in Encino, and to thousands throughout the nation.
But in other respects, this young woman's life is radically different from the lives of her peers, particularly with regard to her personal sex practices. When her case was first brought to my attention I conducted a number of personal interviews in order to satisfy myself that her story was valid. During the course of these interviews, I recommended her to a psychiatrist. It soon became apparent that the girl's psychological problem was one which could be described as a 'self perpetuating, traumatically induced erotic compulsion.' In other words, although Gwenn's perversion originated as the result of an externally caused sexual episode which occurred during her childhood, it is now so thoroughly a part of her that she does not really want to change. Unconsciously, she desires to continue participating in precisely those acts which at an earlier time she had regarded with shameful guilt. At that time her claim was that she desired nothing more than to divest herself of her desire for her acts, although it has been now determined that on a much deeper level, Gwenn reveled in the satisfaction she received from them.
As to the perverse acts themselves, the intimate diary which follows is a more appropriate vehicle for such a revelation that is the more objective introduction which I am providing. Such personal details are much more effectively presented in Gwenn's own words, for only there can the whole story be told from the vantage point of the person who lived it.
Dear Diary
A girl in the savings department put a bug in my ear about a brand new sex kick today. At first I just laughed at her but then I found out that she was serious. She'd been dating a Negro, and she says he's the greatest thing since sliced bread. I. never would have thought of dating a black person before, much less… well, much less letting him put his black cock into my white pussy. I mean, I'm not prejudiced or anything, but, gee, the very idea of… well, anyway, let me tell you what this girl told me. She said she'd dated a lot of guys in her life but her black boy-friend is the most exciting guy she's ever known. And when she said 'known,' she meant it.
She said that as far as she was concerned the old joke about Negroes having bigger dicks than white guys is no joke at all. She said her boyfriend had a cock on him that would choke a horse. Then she giggled and said there were a lot better things for him to do with it than that, and that she never wanted him to waste even one inch of it by doing anything so silly with it. The more she talked about it the more I considered that a nice big black cock might be just what I need to give me a new
thrill.
Later, talking to the same girl, she could see that I was interested, I guess. She asked me if I wanted her to fix me up with a date. I didn't give her an answer right
away, but she was real nice about it and said I didn't have to tell her my answer right then.
I'm really thinking about doing it. A couple of nights after she first told me about how good Negroes were in bed. I had a dream about a big black guy. I dreamed he was sitting across from me with a big smile on his face and his cock out of his pants. And I had my hands on it playing with it. What a monster it was-it was like running my hands up and down a rolling pin.
I hope she broaches the subject again. I don't want to be the one to bring it up, but if she asks me again I think I'll ask her to get me a date with one of her black boyfriend's buddies. Who knows? Maybe a giant black dick in my mouth is what I need to start my pussy jerking in the throes of an orgasm even better than I've had before.
One week later it was all set. She mentioned it again and I told her I was game. She said she was sure she could get me a date with a friend of her boyfriend's named Joe. And she said that she's met him before. He has a great build-a small waist and a set of shoulders like a prize fighter's. That's not all, either. She said she could see a big bulge in his pants while he was with her and her boyfriend.
I can hardly wait until I see him. I've completely gotten over any misgivings I may have had about dating a Negro. All I'm thinking about now is the big cock he's supposed to have. Goodbye for now. Tomorrow night I'll know.
I must admit, last night I saw what a real man looks like. Joe turned out to be pretty much like I'd expected. And that's saying a lot because from the way my girlfriend at the bank talked, I was expecting a lot.
