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Table of Contents
All of the members who belonged to the Women's Youth Exchange fell into three catagories: those who were still married, those who had never been married and those who had been married but were not now. The formerly married could be broken down into sub-groups: the widows and the divorcees. I started by investigation into the WYE by seeking out the widows first. Here are the results of this investigation:
CASE HISTORY: Donna, age 45.
The widow lived in Los Angeles so she had the advantage of being close to the headquarters of the Women's Youth Exchange which was situated in the same city. Donna had been married to her husband for twenty-three years before he died of a heart attack. He had not been a wealthy man but he still managed to leave his widow with enough savings and other benefits to support her for the rest of her life.
The subject is a grandmother although a very youthful looking one. Her two daughters had married early and were now in different parts of the country raising their own families. At the age of forty-five Donna suddenly found herself alone in the world. She bore up under her loneliness for a full year before she turned to the Women's Youth Exchange for help. The following is from a tape recording of the widow's own voice:
"I've always liked boys and always wanted to have sons. Perhaps this is one of the reasons I took on such young boys as lovers. This sounds incestuous, I know, but the human mind is still unknown and unexplored country even in this modern age.
"After Bill, my husband, died I was at loose ends. I was just not used to living alone. As a matter-of-fact I had never lived alone. First, there was my own family. I married while I was still living at home so I went from one occupied house to another when I married Bill. Then my children came and I raised a family of my own. When the girls married and left I still had Bill. And then he died. So, for the first time in my life, I came home to an empty house.
"My daughters invited me to stay with them for awhile after my husband died but I knew enough not to intrude upon them. I was willing to visit them and my grandchildren but I would not stay with them for a prolonged period. I just had to get used to widowhood, to living alone.
"How I hated going to my empty bed. Since Bill had left me fairly well off I did not have to work so I had nothing but time. Six months after Bill's death I began to consider remarrying. There was just one hitch, of course. Almost all of the men my age were already married. The ones who were not married past the age of forty were either interested in much younger women or were not interested in women at all. Once a woman passes the age of forty her chances of meeting just a reasonably good man are very slim. It is still a man's world. They have the best of it. They can pick and choose no matter how old they are. No one even turns a head when they see and older man with a girl young enough to be his daughter.
"I started going to these 'swinging singles' parties in hopes of meeting a nice widower. I wanted to meet a man who had been married before. Frankly, I didn't trust a man who was still single past a certain age. I figured that they were either spoiled by having all kinds of women or were just plain mentally twisted. I thought of a divorced man, too, but I didn't want to be involved with a man who already had had trouble with a wife. He could bring the same trouble to me. So, a widower it was. I wasn't going to be too fussy. A man near my own age or older would be fine.
"At one of these parties I met a man of about fifty. He was short and gray but he seemed nice. He had lost his wife about the same time I had lost my husband so we had something in common. We went together for a few weeks but suddenly he lost interest just when I thought he was getting around to propose to me. He stopped calling and I wondered why. I found out soon enough when I met him at another party with a blonde on his arm. She couldn't have been more than twenty-five. At the age of fifty the widower wanted just one more fling at youth and he wasn't interested in women his age.
"I couldn't see why I, too, couldn't find a young man. I wanted a final fling at youth myself. There were young men, I knew, who made a career out of being nice to older women but I didn't mind paying for my fun. Men pay for girls, don't they?
"I met Karl at a resort. He was in his late twenties and very good looking. There were a lot of young girls at the resort who made eyes at him but he ignored them all. His interests seem to be directed to women old enough to be his mother I realized just what his intentions were. He was a gigolo or, to be more exact, a male prostitute.
"When Karl smiled at me I smiled back and started a conversation. I let him know that I was willing to pay for him and we went to his room. Up until that time the only man in my life had been my husband. I had gone into my marriage as a virgin and had not cheated once. Now, at the advanced age of forty-five I was to have my second man.
"Karl was an expert but detatched lover. He had a. wonderful body and virile sexual parts but he moved like a robot on me. This was just a job to him. He had no interest in me outside of getting paid for services rended and I felt this keenly. After I paid him I was depressed. Sex alone could not satisfy my longings. I needed involvement with another human being, someone I could really love.
"A friend of mine, another widow, told me about the Women's Youth Exchange. When she first brought up the subject I thought that she was kidding. Then she told me that the ages of the youth I could buy ranged between twelve and eighteen! She, herself, favored boys of eighteen and eighteen.
"But that's disgusting!" I told her. "How could you make love to a child that young?"
"She winked at me. 'I felt the same way, Donna,' she said. 'But young boys are ready for sex long before you think they are. They really like it. They really enjoy older women. Just try one of them once. It is pretty expensive but I've found that the Youth Exchange is woth every dollar in the happiness I've gotten from it."
"She gave me an address and phone number and I went back to my lonely apartment wondering what the world was coming to. I mean, after all, boys of twelve being lovers to women in their forties and fifties! I resisted calling the number for about a week. Then, after I had taken a couple of drinks, I called. A man on the other end answered and I told him who had given me the phone number. He seemed to sense that I was nervous and immediately asked if he could come over to explain things better. I agreed. When I put the phone down I had the idea that this man was actually going to be the gigolo and not some young boy.
"When he arrived he turned out to be a good looking young man of about thirty. I was willing enough to pay for stud service from him but he went into his sales pitch about the young boys. He had a thick photo album with him filled with pictures of the youngsters in the Women's Youth Exchange. They were, as my friend had told me, between the ages of twelve and eighteen. When the man asked me to pick out one I pointed my finger towards a picture of a handsome boy with light, wavy hair.
"'Yes, that's Ernie,' the man told me. 'He is one of our favorites. He's eighteen years old and very affectionate."
"'eighteen?' I gasped.
"Yes, and only working with us for the past couple of months so he is still very fresh. Since you live right here in L.A. you have the advantage of getting first pick. You don't have to pay much for the boy's travel expenses, either. Cab fare will be enough. Some of the women in the club live clear across the country so you can imagine how much extra they have to pay. But, money is secondary. What is important that women now have the opportunity to enjoy very young boys. I'd advise you to pick Ernie right now as some other woman will have taken him by the time the week is out."
"That last statement did it. Even though I was just looking at a picture of a boy I had never met I wanted to protect him against the advances of another woman. I agreed to take the young boy.
"Although my friend had told me just how expensive a proposition this would be I still shocked to find that I would not see this boy until I had paid $250 for membership dues and then another $18 for Ernie's first week with me in advance. The Women's Youth Exchange never allowed a boy out for less than a week of love. I could see that the WYE was meant for wealthy women but I could not resist the idea that I could have a eighteen year old boy in my arms. I always wanted to hold a young boy in my arms all my life.
"Once I paid the money the club acted quickly. The next morning there was a knock at the door. When I opened it I found a handsome young boy standing there. He had glowing pink cheeks, right blue eyes and wavy light hair. 'My name is Ernie,' he smiled. 'The Women's Youth Exchange sent me over."
"I still couldn't believe that this child was supposed to be my lover for the next week. I began to believe it more when he told me that the cab was waiting outside and that I had to pay the driver. After I had paid the cabbie I made the boy some breakfast. He looked so very young and so very innocent! I felt evil just being in the same room with him. 'Where are your parents?' I asked him.
"Ernie shrugged and sighed. 'All the women ask me that,' he answered. 'I just don't live at home anymore. I ran away."
"'They must be worried. Do you want me to call them for you?'
"Again the boy sighed and shrugged. 'I really wish you wouldn't,' he said. 'If I wanted to go home I'd go. Right now I want to stay here."
"The boy resisted all my attempts to sound him out on his private life and I had the idea that the other women he had come in contact with had pressed him in the same manner. When I asked him just what he made out of a week's stay with me he told me that the WYE doesn't allow the boys to give out that information. I had the idea that the WYE was cheating the child. How much can a boy of eighteen expect?
"After breakfast the boy looked around the apartment and seemed disappointed. With child-like frankness he told me that he had been in much larger and grander places. I asked him just how many other women he had had and he informed me that the WYE doesn't allow the boys to discuss that subject, either.
"Ernie walked into my bedroom and wondered what drawer was his. I had not emptied out the drawer for him so I picked one and emptied my own clothes out of it. The boy calmly filled it with his own clothing and he also put his other suit in the closet. He was quickly making himself at home. As I watched him I still could not believe that I was actually going to have sex relations with such a very young boy.
"Once he got squared away Ernie bounced on the bed looking very childish. 'Well,' he said, 'I'm ready if you are."
"I couldn't move. I couldn't breath. The eighteen year old boy was offering me his flesh! I didn't know what to do so I sat next to him. 'You are very handsome,' I said. 'I liked your picture right away."
"He seemed used to these compliments and shrugged in that cute way of his. 'The Youth Exchange says we have a week together,' he told me. 'We can do anything you want."
"'What do you do?' I asked thinking he would tell me about wanting to go to ball games and such. His answer shocked me. He calmly informed me that he not only fornicated but also performed cunnilingus upon females. He also performed sodomy and allowed women to fellate him. Only, these were not the terms he used. The terms he used were of the four-letter variety. Without batting an eyelash this handsome, pink-cheeked boy told me that he performed oral and anal sex acts as well the normal kind.
"I felt my blood rise. This was more than I had expected. In the early part of my marriage I had indulged in these so-called abnormal sex acts with my husband but we gave them up as we grew older. Now this beautiful child was offering to bring back my impassioned youth. I slipped my shoes off. When Ernie saw this he could see that I was getting ready for sex. He took off his own shoes and socks. I watched him undress. Even at this stage I could not bring myself to realize that I was about to have sex with a young boy. He took off his shirt and exposed his smooth, hairless chest. My husband and that gigolo at the resort both had been hairy so this clear skin thrilled me. Ernie took off his pants and jockey shorts. The only hair on his body was a small patch just over his sex organ. He was fully aroused and he seemed to throb with passion. Ernie was not as well-endowed as a grown man, of course, but his sexual parts excited me. How very young and sweet he was! I could have eaten him alive on the spot.
"'Are you going to take off your clothes?' he asked.
"Having a young boy take his clothes off in front of me was one thing but me taking off my clothes in front of him was something else. I was sure that he had had sexual experiences before but he still seemed to be just a child. And yet it was his very sense of performing something exceptionally sinful that thrilled me. I took off my clothes as this young boy gazed at me with wide, blue eyes. I knew he was getting excited. I could feel it. With that young man at the resort I could feel only coldness and detatchment but this glowing child was different. He was still young enough not to have become jaded by sex. He was still fresh and, in a way, innocent.
"Ernie looked me up and down when I stood in front of him naked. My breasts were small but shapely and still firm. Through diet I had kept my figure so that I had not gained an ounce since I was a young bride. It was obvious Ernie liked my nakedness because he clamped his young hands over my breasts and sighed. 'Very pretty,' he said. Then he leaned close to me and took one of my nipples in his mouth.
"I sat down on the edge of the bed with the handsome naked boy in my lap. He pressed his young profile into my breast and I felt his teeth and tongue work on me hard. Ernie wasn't just performing a mechanical act. He really wanted my body.
"And I wanted his body. I stroked my hand along his smooth thighs and clutched at his aroused and throbbing maleness. His mention that he allowed women to fellate him made me want to take him orally. It had been so long since I had done anything like that. Ernie pressed down on me and I lowered my body against the bed. He took his mouth away from my nipple and slipped his young, naked body on top of mine. He was breathing hard, enjoying the erotic experience as much as I was. The eighteen year old showed a bit of boyish clumsiness as he took his lust-hard flesh in his hand and sought my most female part. Then he found it. He inched his vital young manhood into me and I felt my whole being become electric with desire. Ernie's manhood wasn't all that great but his extreme youth and beauty made up the difference. The boy rammed his body into me with hard, direct strokes. I ran my hands down along his moving back until I grasped his ripe, young buttocks. He was hairless in this area, too. His buttocks felt smooth and feminine.
"As the boy moved against me rapidly I clutched at his ripe rear. He seemed so small. My husband and that gigolo had both been big men. Under my hands this child was completely in my power, or so it seemed. Ernie grunted as he thrust wildly and I could feel him reaching towards his peak of passion. Then it came with a hot, driving flood. He rested on my body and his heart beat hard against my breast.
"We kissed. He placed his tender rose-bud lips upon mine and I embraced him as his passion spewed from his flesh. His lips began to open and I allowed mine to do so, too. Ernie slipped his darting tongue into my oral cavity and we French-kissed. The boy rubbed his body over mine and then lowered his lips to my ear. He asked me if I wanted cunnilingus performed upon me. Again he used the cruder term. I told him that I would.
"I watched as the eighteen year old boy lowered his wavy hair down along my body. It was hard for me to believe that such a child could be so sexually sophisticated. He placed his hands upon my hips and then kissed my sexual opening. He started slowly, licking my flesh, darting his tongue inside my body. My being trembled under his caresses. How delightfully young the boy was! And how he was exciting me!
"Ernie began to act bolder and he chewed at my flesh. I reached down and played with his hair as he engaged in the oral sex act. He worked his mouth artfully and I wondered at how he had learned this technique so early in life. As I recalled my husband had not managed to be this passionate when he had performed this same sex act. Ernie kept burying his sweet young face into my flesh and I brought my knees up in sheer excitement. I caught his pink cheeks between my thighs. The boy slipped his hands behind my knees and pushed my legs towards me as far as they could go. I had never been placed in such a position before. At first I thought it awkward but I began to enjoy being so obscenely twisted by the beautiful young boy.
"Ernie ran his tongue along my sexual opening and down to my anus. A shock of sheer sexual arousement ran through me. No one had ever touched me here with his tongue. The boy told me to roll over on my stomach and I did so, amused by this commanding youngster. He slipped over my body again and I felt his stiffened flesh probe between my butt halves. He was going to perform sodomy upon me.
"The young boy's maleness was not fully grown but it was still grown enough to hurt. I had recalled how my husband had always used a lubricant but the boy did not. But I was so hungry for the touch of a truely passionate male that I did not mind him thrusting deeply into my body once again.
"Ernie moved slowly, easily, sure of himself. With every stroke of his flesh I neared a climax of my own passions. With that young, strong gigolo I had felt nothing. With my husband, in the last decade of our marriage, I had felt little more. But, with this handsome young boy, my long lost desires were being kindled into flaming life once again. As he spewed out into my body my flesh trembled with sexual release. 'Ernie!' I cried out. 'Oh, my darling boy!'
"The child slipped off of me once he had spent himself but I was too aroused now to let him alone. I took his softening flesh orally and madly engaged in fellatio. Ernie groaned quietly with lust as I brought desire back into his young flesh for still another time. Once again his vital boy's body responded and he spurted with passion.
"Even after the exhausted boy could give no more I continued to lick his smooth, hairless body. I just could not get enough of him. His body was like a drug to me. I licked his stomach, his chest, his neck. I rolled him over and licked his back and buttocks. For the first time in my life I performed an act of analingus by licking the anus of this eighteen year old boy. When desire finally began to leave me I snuggled next to Ernie and we both rested in each other's arms for the next hour or so without saying a word, just grasping each other's body with our hands. It was lovely."
Donna, aged forty-five and Ernie, aged eighteen, shared the love nest for a week performing every kind of sex act. They went out now and then to see a movie or to have dinner but most of the time they spent indoors, completely naked. Donna felt like a young girl again and forgot that she was three decadse older than her lover.
Ernie, playing the flirt, managed to get the older woman to buy him a new suit and a couple of pairs of shoes. Like a young girl milking an older man the boy knew just how to use her desire for his body. By the time the week was up Donna realized just how much money she had spent for this passion. Yet she did not complain. As a member of the Women's Youth Exchange she could have Ernie back again as well as other boys.
After Ernie, Donna took an eighteen year old as a lover but she did not care for him. He was always trying to get her to give him gifts of watches, diamond stick pins and other items that she could not afford. At the age of eighteen the boy prostitutes began to lose their engaging youthfullness and became cool, hard and demanding. These were things that Donna did not want to her males. She favored boys of eighteen and younger. She had a twelve year old boy once but her real love was always for handsome young Ernie. Other women also looked at him in this same way and the WYE, always sensitive to which boy was the most popular, quickly raised his rate so that it soon cost Donna $20 per week to have him. Yet the forty-five year old woman did not mind. With this eighteen year old boy she had rediscovered her own girlhood. This was a feeling shared by every other woman belonging to the sex club and it was the main reason it became so popular amongst mature females. Not only was the Women's Youth Exchange selling them male youth ... it was selling them their own lost youth.
CASE HISTORY: Sharon, age 52.
As Donna leaned towards the younger males in the WYE, Sharon craved the older types. Sharon could also afford to supply the demands of her young boy prostitutes since her husband had left her with an estate valued at close to a half million dollars. She was more typical of the mature females who were members of the Women's Youth Exchange.
Sharon lives in a rambling ten room house in a fashionable section of a mid-Western city. At the age of fifty-two Sharon is in no mood to settle down and be the society matron although most of her activities are in that direction. Her husband, a well-to-do stock broker, was eighteen years older than Sharon and she cheerfully admits that she had married the man in the first place for his money. When I interviewed her she kept drinking out of a martini pitcher yet never seemed to get drunk. For politeness sake I accepted two drinks and nursed them carefully so that she would not constantly refill my glass.
The wealthy widow was short, a bit on the dumpy side but her flaming red hair indicated that she still had young ideas. Sharon chainsmoked as she drank and talked in a language peppered by words usually heard in an army camp. I have edited out the rougher phrases.
"Damn, my husband wasn't much in bed! He was past forty when I married him but that's hardly over the hump for a man. Me, I was married twice before and knew loving when I got it. My husband just didn't have it to give. Once a week was average. And he didn't do any of the fancy stuff I go for like (oral love-making) But, I married the old bastard for his loot so I can't bitch.
"Would you believe that I didn't (screw) around when he was still alive? I didn't. I just grinned and bore it until he died so that I could collect. I didn't want him to hit me with no adultery rap. Now that the old fart is planted I have a right to (screw) around.
"I waited a couple of months after he died before I quit mourning and looked around for some nice, healthy, young, juicy studs with (pissers) a foot and a half long. I had heard about the Women's Youth Exchange through a friend of mine, another widow who used it so I dropped them a line."
(The Women's Youth Exchange is strictly a word-of-mouth sex club where there is no advertising outside of one woman referring it to another. The WYE does not accept a new member without being okayed by one who has already been accepted. In this way the WYE maintains a tight security.)
"The Women's Youth Exchange wrote back sending me a few pages with pictures of young boys on. I was to checkoff the ones I liked and remail it to them. I was really rocked when I saw that some of the kids were only twelve and eighteen! Now, I don't dig kids that young. Me, I go for the big, healthy types. I picked out a couple of eighteen years olds and a eighteen year old. Once the WYE got my letter they called and told me that they had a boy for me but I would have to send enough money for his plane fare ... first class, no less!
"So, I send in the dough and the kid comes. He's six foot tall with shoulders out to here and a nice, rugged face. His name is Paul and only eighteen but I can see right away that he's been around women before.
"We drive from the airport to my home and I can't wait to get my hands on him. He tells me that he wants to shower first and I told him I would wash his back. We go into the bathroom and he strips off his clothes. He doesn't have (an erection) but his (penis) looks to be seven or eight inches as it is. He has muscles on him that would make Mr. America blush and I run my hands all over him once we get under the shower. I grab his (penis) and (masturbate) him until he get's (an erection).
"Wow! This boy is built! He is all three of my husbands rolled into one big, juicy package! Paul gets his hands on me and rubs my breasts and buttocks. He slips one of his fingers into my (vagina) and moves it. By this time I can't even wait to get out of the shower. I want him right then and there.
"I jump up on him and grab his shoulders. I wrap my legs around his waist and tell him to give it to me. The boy presses my back against the wall of the shower stall and starts to work his (penis) into me. After all my years with my low-voltage husband Paul is like a young, bucking stallion. I knew that he was well endowed but he still shocks me by what he has. That boy just didn't seem to end! He kept coming in at me and I wrap my legs and arms around him tight just hanging on. Once he goes all the way he shuts off the shower and walks into the bedroom with me attached to him like a bitch dog in heat. And, that's just what I was.
"When we pass a mirror in the bedroom I catch our reflection. There we are, two stark naked people, wet and shiny and locked in that beautiful sex position. While still attached Paul goes down on the bed with me and really starts to go to town!