“Art, like everything else that was too high class, bored me to tears. Still, I went to the city and pretended to be interested in my culture classes. What I really did was see movies just as I had when I was a girl cutting classes at school.
“The movies I liked best were the Swedish sex films. Not many women went to these movies alone and I soon found out why. As soon as I sat down, a guy took a seat next to me. He started looking at my face instead of the screen, and then he placed his hand on my knee. I moved away and he took off without a word. It was exciting, really. I wondered how far he would've gone if I had accepted his overtures.
“When I went home that night, I kept thinking of the man in the movie house. I hadn't really gotten a good look at him, but he had appeared to be younger than I was. Maybe he wasn't a creep after all, but some lonely guy wanting to make contact with someone warm. I knew just how he felt. I've always wanted to make contact with someone warm, but it never happened.
“The next time I went to the city I picked a movie house in a district that sold nudist magazines and things like that. I wasn't interested in the picture; I just wanted someone to sit next to me. It wasn't long before a man sat next to me, even though the place was almost empty. I didn't move. Then I felt a pressure on my leg. I wanted to change seats, but I still sat there. This gave the man all the hint he needed. He had to know that I was willing to be picked up. 'Want some candy?' he asked, pushing a small box of taffy at me.
“I turned and faced him for the first time. He was about thirty and was poorly dressed. He needed a shave and I pegged him as a drifter who killed time in movie houses as I did. I took a taffy out of the little box and he pressed his hand tighter on my leg. My heart began to pound faster. After twenty years of marriage I was allowing another man to touch me.
“You live around here?' he whispered.
“'Visiting,' I explained.
“There was a pause and then he said, 'Want to go out and get coffee?'
“'All right.'
“I got up and he followed me out into the sunlight. We looked at one another more closely. I was afraid that he might be disappointed when he realized that I had at least a dozen years on him. But this didn't bother him at all.
“He told me that his name was Paul and that he had only arrived in the city a week ago. He said he worked as a truck loader which was the kind of job a drifter would take.
“We went to one of those cheap diners where coffee went for a dime a cup. It was obvious that Paul was almost broke, but I didn't make any move to pick up the twenty cent check. I didn't want him to feel that I was ready to buy him.
“Paul wasn't a hustler anyhow, but just a young man in need of sexual release. He knew that I was willing enough to be laid, but he had no place to bring me. He lived in one of those flophouses that didn't allow women guests.
“Paul brought me to a district near the waterfront that was lined with big, empty trucks waiting for ships to come in. I knew that he was looking for a place to make love and this made my hands tremble. Dogs made love, if that is the word, in the street. Yet, the very lowness of the situation thrilled me. My life had been so clean and square and I was ready for a little dirt.
“'This looks about right,' the young stranger said and pressed me against one of the trucks. Although I could hear the traffic going by, we were hidden from view. Of course, if a cop or a tramp walked behind the truck, we would be caught. I didn't mind. This made the whole affair that much more exciting.
“Paul pressed his lips against mine roughly and pawed at my body. He clamped his hands on my can and pushed his weight up and down against me in a screwing fashion, he started to pull my dress up.
“'No, not here, like this,' I whispered.
“'Where can we go? You got a car?'
“I had gone to the city via train, as usual so that haven was out. Paul was so sexually aroused by now that he wasn't in the mood to argue the point. He pulled my dress up to my waist and tugged at my panties. A chill swept over my body.
“'Don't do it,' I implored him.
“'Knock it off,' he responded sharply. 'You want a fuck as much as I do.'
“He pulled out his penis. It was stiff and ready for action. I was forty-two years old, a mother of two, and the wife of an important lawyer. Yet, here I was in the waterfront allowing a young tramp to claw at my flesh. What if he made me pregnant? I wasn't smart enough to make my husband think the child was his. I wasn't young, but I was still old enough to have a child.
“I grabbed Paul's prick more to protect myself than to indulge in lust.
“'Not now,' I begged.
“'Are you some kind of cock teaser?' he snapped angrily, his eyes blazing. 'I didn't leave a good movie for nothing.'
“Poor Paul. While the movie was inexpensive it was still a big thing in his budget and I had taken him away from it with the promise of sex. I pressed his warm rod of sex this time with passion. 'It wasn't for nothing,' I told him and slipped to my knees.
“His penis seemed even larger at close range. It was very hard and throbbing. Paul had an agonized need for release, any kind of release. I opened my mouth and leaned forward. His rod filled me and I began to suck.
“The young man sighed with pleasure as I fellated him. I took as much of his meat as I could and pulled back. Just as I reached the rounded head of his manhood I plunged down along his stick again. He was so in need of an outlet that he spewed semen only seconds after I had first made contact. I swallowed down his warm and vital maleness and I forgot about the traffic so very near the scene. Paul and his penis was all that mattered.
“As soon as he finished shooting his load, I got to my feet and brushed the dirt off my knees. Paul zipped his pants up. His unshaven face was calm and relaxed. All most men needed was a little love.
“'You go around blowing guys often?' he wanted to know.
“I told him that this was the first time. 'I don't know what got into me,' I told him honestly.
“'Honey,' he smiled, 'whatever it is, keep it up. If it's dick you want, you just have to hang around this area. There are more hard-ups per square mile here than any place on earth.'
“I took this as an offer and I was soon cruising the waterfront on a regular basis. Each time I went into the city it was with the excuse that I had to attend class. My husband never questioned me and seemed glad to have me out of the house.
“It was very easy to pick up men. All I had to do was stand in one spot long enough and they would come over and talk to me. I was usually taken for a hooker. This figured. How many women are there in the world who like to go down on strange men for the fun of it?
“The waterfront was a dirty, dangerous, and exciting place. I say dangerous because it was not an area for women. Once a thin, nervous man asked me for a cigarette. I knew that this was just an excuse to talk to me. He wasn't good looking, but I was willing enough to go all the way to my knees for him.
“When I gave him a cigarette he said in a low voice, 'How much?'
“'For a cigarette? Nothing.'
“I mean for your ass.'
“I laughed to myself. Once again I was being taken for a whore. When I told him that I wasn't what he thought I was he seemed surprised. He told me that he had watched me take men into hallways and leave a few minutes later.
“'Let's go into that hallway and find out what I do,' I told him.
“The area was filled with abandoned buildings where drunks and tramps lived with the rats. I took the little man into a nearby hallway that smelled of human waste. It was filthy, yet, as I said, filth seemed to arouse me.
“I went down on my knees and opened the fellow's fly. I pulled his penis out and started mouthing him. His sex organ grew slowly. When I brought him to the peak of his hardness, he let loose a great load of come. I took every drop and zipped his pants up. Then I got to my feet. He looked confused.
“'You mean you don't charge for that?' he asked.
“'No,' I answered. 'I French for the fun of it.'
“His eyes narrowed. 'You must be out of your head. Are you a rich hop-head or something?'
