Chapter 10: Nineteen Years Old Plus

Carver went because he'd been using Maryon in a way that she could the more easily perceive because of her studies in Social Anthropology. As she moved into her nineteenth year and the beginning of the '70's she spent much time in analyzing her near decade of sexual experience and began to see that, though she had most often had her own pleasure, it had been at the price not, actually, of willing cooperation, but of an enforced coercement that had been laid on her by physical or moral pressures. Even when she had actively sought out some new enlargement of her sexual scene, it had usually come about by her being prepared to submit to another's whims.

She was now able to see that this would have been bearable, that to cater to someone else did not necessarily mean that one thereby had to lose something, that a compromise, or a share of giving was, after all, the only way in which any area of life could be maintained in a civilized manner. But, not knowing this at the time, she had appeared as a 'victim' to the other participants in her sexual adventures and had thereby been degraded in their eyes, from her brother Mike on through Colin and Sylvia and Johnny, through Karen, through the 'cats'... Jim, Wes, Carver. All had taken advantage of her and she had willingly gone along with them, taking her joys as though they had been crumbs thrown her from the table of the others' sensual feasts.

A comparison of various cultures throughout space and time showed her that it was always possible to find one that broke the more usual taboos... incest as practiced in ancient Egypt, polyandry in Northern India, polygamy in China and in Islam, sodomy in Glorious Golden Greece... The list of unacceptable sexual practices' became smaller and smaller as she read and studied in the literature on the Global Village.

Mistress of all these facts, and of herself, Maryon began a steady program of search and fulfillment, determined to live a full and complete sex life. But the way was not necessarily easy because of her knowledge...

A visit, alone, to a meeting of the local chapter of the Sexual Liberation Movement found her one evening on the porch of an old Victorian-style mansion whose purple-painted door and orange lintels proclaimed it as the repository of the 'new' and 'in' and 'far-out'. At her buzz the door opened to disclose a short, stringy-haired blonde girl in a throat-to-ankle wrapper, presumably an 'officer' or functionary of the SLM. An imitation Tiffany lamp gave off a red-bulbed glow to illuminate the small foyer into which she was quickly ushered, and another lit a slightly larger room opening off it. "Hi," said the girl, after locking the front door. "Just feel free to wander around. If you see anything you like..." The statement was loaded with implication. "If you feel like skinning down, just drop your stuff in this room--find yourself a corner or something--it'll be easier to get yourself together that way when you're ready to split. Have fun."

With that the blonde pulled a pair of granny-glasses out of her pocket, put them on, and dropped the wrapper onto a chair to show herself as a rather chunky nude with a thick waist and a wealth of hair at her crotch. Looking at the flat planes of the girl's butt as she wandered away, Maryon begin to realize why the lighting was so subdued. She'd brought no purse, and she didn't feel like stripping down till she'd seen what the action was like here, so she contented herself with dropping her maxi-coat behind a couch whose surface was covered with little piles of clothing and went cautiously off to explore. Not quite knowing what to expect, she'd come dressed in a black leather ensemble of vest, mini and boots, over a pale blue bodystocking, the vest joined at the front with a single silver chain. She soon found that she was over-dressed. Practically all those she saw in the house were nude, and those that were not wore only minimum clothing that did more to enhance the wearer's sex than to conceal it. There was a tall, crop-haired black girl in glasses, for instance, who wore a kind of ornamental metallic yoke about her neck from which hung down hundreds of white silky filaments, through which her proud strong black breasts protruded impudently. When the girl struck a pose with a foot placed on the head of a boy on the floor, her long leg broke through the white waterfall to disclose a belly whose base was covered with a wooly black mat to match her hair.

Every room in the multi-roomed house had a different colored light-bulb either hanging from the ceiling or glowing from a stand in a comer. And every room in the house contained at least five people engaged in some quasi-sexual activity, from comparatively innocent naked necking between boy and girl to several copulating couples to blow-jobbing men to mutually masturbating girls. There seemed to be very little voyeurism involved, and Maryon figured this was because there was just too much to do. Everybody seemed to have found a partner but even as she watched two couples merged together and changed partners in mid course and a single roving male wandered into a room to thrust his hand-held erection in between a mobile mouth-and-cunt team to no one's objection. Do- it-yourself seemed to be the name of this game. Still, Maryon wasn't quite ready to be this indiscriminate and sought for some halfway measure that would take her out of the role of being mere spectator. Returning to the room off the foyer, she saw that it was already occupied by a bearded male whose age she couldn't quite determine in the dim light. Naked, he was stretching himself as if weary, in a pose that reminded her of some Roman statue, his back toward her, head half turned. At sight of her he grinned and good-naturedly winked, immediately taking her into his aura of semi-boredom with all this. Ignoring him Maryon unchained her blouse, put it down onto her maxi-coat, and began to unbuckle the broad belt of her mini. The man... no boy, he, she could now make out... momentarily paused in his task of pulling on a brief pair of black Jockey shorts to look at her, and kept His eyes on her body as she dropped the skirt and stepped out of it to reveal her long, slim-waisted and voluptuously curved breasts and ass in the tight-clinging blue bodystocking. She'd noticed a Jot of crap on the floor, litter, paper, bits of broken plastic wine-glasses, and decided to keep her black boots on. When she left the room she noticed from the corner of her eye that the bearded man, in his late twenties or early thirties, had restricted himself to the Jockey shorts and was preparing to follow her. Well... who knew? He looked like he might be pretty good. Conscious of his continued gaze, she let her blue-shrouded butt Toll just a bit more than usual and drew herself up so her tits would stand resolutely out against the thin covering.

She climbed the stairs, stepping over a girl stretched blindly writhing on them with an unsexually defined long-haired head buried in her crotch, and made her way to a room lit with discreet blue table-lamp that, she soon realized, as she caught a glimpse of herself in a mirror, canceled out her costume so that it seemed she was a nippleless blue-skinned Venusian in boots. The room's single bed contained a number of slowly-moving bodies, all naked, of both sexes, while on the bizarrely carpeted floor sat two youths and a girl, a black with an Afro, a thin boy with a WASP-hive... the girl, perhaps a redhead, heavily made-up about the eyes and mouth, hair cut short and close to her scalp, her chest nearly as flat as the boys', all nude. Judging from the quick look Maryon gave them as she entered, they were rapping about something non-sexual, for the two pricks and twin nipples were soft and unaroused.

But her arrival brought something new into the scene. "Hey, man," greeted the black, "whad'y'know, baby!? Come sit down a while... park your butt."

Shrugging to herself, aware that the black-banded beard was leaning against the doorway, Maryon crossed over and let herself limberly to the floor. Immediately WASP-head reached out and touched her breast. "Wow," he breathed. "Y'had me fooled there, chick. Thought you'd cut your knockers off there for a while. How come you're all dressed up? You uptight or som'p'n?"

"Way out, honey," said the girl. She was a redhead, Maryon decided, after a look at the blue-glinting auburn oasis that sat between the girl's thighs. She nodded and said Hi!, glad to be so easily accepted into the group, not at all minding that the WASP was continuing absently to stroke her breast through the tight- knit material, the black was running his hands through her hair, and the girl plucking at the muscle of her thigh.

"I'm Maryon?" she asked, and quickly the others responded, as "Wash", "Dave", and "Vinny."

"We were just rapping about recruiting, getting in fresh blood," offered Wash, fingering her ear. "We's interested in turning on some more bodies to where it's all at with us... We kinda run the SLM y'see."

"Yeah," put in Dave, "welcome to the club, Maryon chick. Haven't seen you before, here or anywhere."

"Uh-huh... I'd've remembered her!" said Vinny, running the back of one hand along Maryon's thigh and taking the blonde girl's wrist in her other to place it against her flank.

"Ae you bi, honey?"

Maryon laughed lightly. "Can do," she said, "but I can take it or leave it, frankly."

"Mmmhhh... but can you give it, honey," throated the redhead.