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Archive-name: 3plus/eileen01.txt

Archive-author: Pace

Archive-title: Eileen - 1





                      Standard Preface:

                H MILLER  ON RUSTY & EDIE'S BBS

  This is correspondence with a man who used the pseudonym Pace.  He

wrote me from about 1979 till 1987, because I answered an ad in a

swinger's magazine.  I never met him.  I have no idea what has

happened to him since 1987.  He was born in the late 1920's and felt

he might have a heart condition.  He may have died suddenly, because

the correspondence unaccountably went blank in mid-stream.  Or he

could be alive.  It bothers me.  He was obsessed with performing sex

with his wife before groups of men.  She was very pretty, gullible,

and very much his junior.  The period of intense sex performance he

wrote about extended from 1967 to 1972.  But he covered everything

leading up to it and beyond.

  The material was scanned from typewritten pages and dot matrix

print-out.  Then edited and edited.  If Pace's writing "voice" seems

to change suddenly, blame my editing.  Everything was originally

written "in one long string".  Time and sequence are "bugs" of his,

and loom large.  But all else is chaos.  This man neglects typos and

grammar, can switch from the vulgar to the pedantic in the flick of

an eye.  His personality was very Schiz, his lifestyle was, too, and

so was his writing.  I give you Pace, as he was, heavily edited and

revised.  He is honest, and self-admittedly an opinionated, bigoted

man.  That's him, not me, please don't shoot the messenger.



IF YOU WANT TO LEAVE A MESSAGE TO DISCUSS THIS TEXT, OR OTHERS FROM

THE SERIES, LEAVE A MESSAGE TO H MILLER

____________________________________________________________________

--------------------------------------------------------------------



Chapter 1. My Baby and Me



                  Fucking my Wife for Crowds



  This is a bunch of "books" about me, a guy who fucked his wife for

show in front of guys.  I'll call them books, but I'll never publish

them as real books.  They're only for a very a special public,

written by a guy who's not a "writer".  There's stuff here I'd like

to share with a very unusual, a very small, a very special audience. 

Guys who are older, like I am.  Guys who were raised in more

conventional, much more inhibited times in the past, when women were

"nice".  Most especially, I think this stuff would "get" to a certain

kind of guy, get to him in the guts; someone like me, with an

exhibitionist screw loose in his head.

  I've got this funny, uncomfortable, weird and freaky "thing" in my

head.  I'd like to know that I'm talking to guys who understand this.

You want to know what it feels like, fucking your wife in front of a

crowd?  It's sends the blood racing through you.  Your heart beat is

unbearable, like in a marathon, the excitement comes and hits you,

wham!!! wham!!!!  There is nothing like that excitement.  It's like

you're going to have a heart attack.  I'll tell you, I get it at just

the thought, just the image, of fucking my wife in front of a group

of other guys, before I'd even get her stripped to fuck her.  If this

is the kind of thing that would turn you on, if you've ever

fantasized about doing it, but have been too chicken to do it, the

way I once was, then these stories, these "books" are for you.

  In my heart I'd really like my stuff to be read by guys who watched

me, who were audiences at our stag shows.  But I don't know how that

could ever be.  I don't know how this could ever get into their

hands.  If it did, this is the way I'd like to talk to them.  This is

what I'd like to say to them.  I'd like those guys to see how I

manipulated that little ninny, my little Irish wife, literally, the

little fuckhead, the mother of my kids, into spreading out her Mommy

cunt so they could look right up into her excited pussy hole.  And

you bet she got excited when she did that.  We couldn't have done

what we did if she wasn't getting something out if it, too, it if she

wasn't excited.

  And all of those guys who saw us would know I was doing it before

the swinging Seventies, back in the Sixties.  That's right.  When I

could have gotten our fucking asses in the klink for doing something

like that, or even a hell of a lot worse.  If my audience was reading

this now they would remember what it was like, when they were at my

stags.  I never got to talk to them like a real person, one to one,

we always talked about the stag show, itself, arrangements, bullshit

trivia, I never got to meet them, personally.

  After all, I was this kook who was letting them fuck my wife.  I

was too strange for any of those guys to look me in the face, most of

the time.  It was really rare anybody ever gave me eye contact.  And

if they did look me in the eye, they couldn't hide their contempt for

me, they had this shit-eating grin, this smirk on their lips.  Even

though they talked to me, and gave me "lip service" about what a

great guy I was, you know, letting them fuck my wife, or sucking them

off, that ain't what they were thinking.  No siree!  They thought I

was the biggest asshole ever born.  It was a real charade.

  Hey, guys, those were uptight times, when flower children were

tip-toeing through the tulips with Tiny Tim, and Vietnam was heating

up.   Didn't it break you up, when I let you look at family album

photos?  When I sat there in your Club room running our home movies,

just before you were going to fuck my wife?  Most of you knew we were

for real, we couldn't fake those movies and those photos, if you had

any brains.  Some of you guys wouldn't believe it.  My wife had to be

a hooker.  Those guys thought it was all a hype, it was all a con

job.  I even showed our personal wedding photos, photos from our

shotgun wedding.  That wedding was real; I'd knocked up my little 17

year old pussy, Eileen.  It was a small wedding.  And there was my

sweet ninny of a child bride, a young sweet thing who cooed like a

bird, with her lilting Irish brogue.  And her mother.  Side by side. 

In the photos. Some wedding, a 32 year old guy with a pregnant 17

year old.  It was screwy, wasn't it??

  You've got to remember watching my wife's open pussy in action in

your Clubs, all those function halls, locker rooms, hotel rooms, hey,

I even fucked my baby and invited a gang bang in a machine shop.  A

bowling alley.  All kinds of places.  Freaky, wasn't it, showing all

those home movie shots, right?  And then Eileen sucking cock, mine

and yours.  How about all that other impossible stuff I had the sweet

innocent do, you know, in the later years, with black stag performers

and me.  The looks on your faces!!!  You couldn't have forgotten us. 

I know I'll never forget the noise, the whooping and hollering, just

the astonished shock, the unbelieving looks on your pusses.  What a

kick that gave me.

  You knew, for sure, most of you who wanted to believe it, that we

were for real.  We were what we said we were; married, and in love.

Really in love.  You could see it in the looks on our faces when I

was fucking her.  I was grinning at her, leering at her, kissing her

lips, her ear lobes, her neck, her eyes.  You don't see professionals

do that.  They stick to cock and pussy.  Just fuck the hole, or fuck

the mouth.  That's what's important when there is no love.  You knew

we had kids, and lived normal lives, except for my "kink", my bent. 

Wasn't it wild, seeing my wife and me take our marital bed right out

there out in public, in front of your staring eyes?

  I remember.  Do you?  You saw the little girl suck my cock off, and

in amazement, your jaws hanging down, watched the totally innocent-

looking mother sucking out the scum from cock after cock of your

buddies.  And grinning at her husband.  And her husband grinning at

her.  If you were lucky enough or nervy enough, you even got a chance

to get your own tool sucked off, or slip your dick into that awfully

pretty, innocent looking young wife's Mommy hole.  I've heard you

guys wondering aloud, about us.  I heard enough of you muttering. 

Well, I wish that you had this book so you could get part of your

answer.

  Well that's what I would have said to my stag audiences, if I could

have gotten this book into their hands.   But for the rest of you,

you would know exactly what I'm talking about if you'd lived through

the forties, or were a young adult during the fifties and the

sixties, times when sex was so intense, so forbidden, pre-X-rated

times, when you were lucky to see one open snatch, in your entire

lifetime.  Anybody who grew up then knew what it was like to live in

up-tight times.



                     Me and My Princess



  To make it even wilder, I'm an Italian.  An "older" Italian.  I was

born in 1927.  You know how jealous Italians are supposed to be about

their wives?  Especially someone like me, a "paisano" who lucked out.

Against all odds I was hooked up with a sweet honey of an Irish wife.

I was told it often enough.  How my Eileen was pretty enough to be a

movie star. That's how I felt about her, too.  But to me Eileen was

more like an English Princess.  She came on with this stimulating

half-English, half-Irish accent, but definitely a lilting brogue.  I

was the luckiest guy in the world.  How would you like to find

yourself like me, "into" a cunt 15 years younger, with a license to

fuck her all you want?  Just looking at Eileen, I swear, I fucked my

giggling bride every chance I got.

  And I wanted a lot of kinky sex out of her, so I stalked her like a

cat.  Gradually, slowly, slowly, I trained the girl.  I trained her

being real sneaky about it, into doing more and more perverted things

for me.  I'll tell you how much that innocent "look" on her face

turned me on.  It was unbelievable, whenever I could, I'd jump her;

I'd have my sweet Princess down on her knees, at my crotch, gulping

my hog, or flat on her back, getting her hairy drippy red split

pounded.  While Eileen giggled her fucking head off.  Always amazed

at how "gruff" I was.  Her words.  I couldn't stop it.  Every time I

looked at that cunt, I wanted to fuck her.  It never went away.  I'd

literally look at my wife's face, sometimes, and get a hard-on.  I'd

fuck the piss out of the girl, literally, she'd always be running to

pee after I fucked her, that hard, four times a day, or whenever I

could.

  Call me a wop or a guinea and I'd probably "break your face". 

Probably not, if you were too big.  Hey, I'm no hero.  But how else

can I say it?  Could an ugly-looking "guinea" like me ask for a sex

life more exciting than that?  I'm fucking a girl most people thought

wouldn't even talk to me.  So you'd think I'd died and landed in

heaven, right?  That was so much to have, who could ask for anything

more?  It's true. I did land in heaven.

  So it's natural to ask the next question; what's this fucking

pervert doing, here he is with the fuck of his dreams, and what's he

doing?  Dreaming of fucking his sweet little wife in front of a gang

of guys.  Now you've got to understand, this was way back in the

sexual dark ages, like in the early '60s.  Kennedy was still King. 

That was Camelot, and Father Knows Best on TV.  And there I am, this

nut, plotting and scheming, all I could think of was fucking my sweet

Irish bride in front of a gang of guys.

  What was bugging me?  Where did this screwball "bugginess" come

from?  The whole book, in fact all these books are just about that. 

I'll show you how Eileen and I, both of us, were sort of "set up" to

go the way we did.  We were both like loaded guns.  All we needed was

the right trigger pull to come along and start us down that path.  We

didn't know it, at the time, that we were going to act anything out..

We both thought we were "normal", whatever that means.  Or at least

Eileen did.  With my screwy sexual background I knew I was a sex

addict.  And that addiction kept pumping me up with fantasies,  I

would look at every woman and undress her and fuck her.  Until

Eileen.  When I didn't have to look.  I could do it.  I could fuck

that dumb cunt over and over and over again.  And she liked it!!! 

And let me do it!!!



          My Wife Gets Propositioned to Pose for Fuck Photos



  Anyway, there was this "incident", and that was our trigger.  Made

us go Bang!  And Bang and Bang, again and again, over and over.  I'll

talk more about it, later.  For now I'll just tell you that the

"incident" took place after my little girl had our first baby. 

Sometime after that.  I was the proud middle-thirties father of his

first boy.  Eileen was a dumb, gullible 19 year old ninny.  And fresh

from being made a Mommy.  Going to Boston University's School of

Nursing, to do her part in supporting our family.  But in white bobby

sox and plaid skirts, with school books under her arms, Eileen looked

more like a high school freshman than a married lady when she

commuted to college classes. The Mommy-coed.

  Well, it all happened when my wife took a ride in a car, she got a

lift (I'll say!).  The MTA trolley line (not MBTA, back then) right

in front of our house on Commonwealth Avenue in Allston, a part of

Boston, ran straight down to Boston University.  It  was out of

action, as it often was.  When that happened students hitchiked. 

Eileen had done it often.  I never knew.  If I had, I'd have had a

fit.  A lot of students did it.  Not girls, though.  The guy who gave

Eileen a "lift" this time was another guinea.  He was a guy like me,

a guy with just as dirty a mind as Eileen's "old man".  Anyway my

stupid little pussy got propositioned.

  This pastafazool spotted her and psyched her out just right; he

handed that gullible lolly pop of mine a bullshit line, offering to

pay her an incredible hourly fee for having sex in front of his

camera for some "medical photos".  With her husband, "of course".  My

trusting fool confessed, beforehand, that we were just about stone

broke.  And didn't he "leap into that breach".  Yeah, and likely to

leap into her breach, if she didn't watch her dumb fool ass.  My dumb

cunt!

  Get that!!  Medical photos!!  Some sh-ee-ee-t!!!  But this is it!! 

This is the kicker!!!  My dumb cunt of a wife was eager to "go for

it"!!  Fucking surprise.  Fucking wild!!  Just ask me.  Would I have

predicted it?  No fucking way in hell.  I just didn't know how to

handle the situation.  I was too chicken and scared, wanting like

crazy to do it, excited totally out of my skull, but scared, scared

of cops, of Mafia, of God knew who this guy was.  Eileen had me

shaking with excitement, pumped full of adrenalin, when she came back

to the house with the offer.  It made me dizzy.  Really!!!

  Frankly, I dropped the ball.  And did I live to regret that!  Sure

I did!!  Stupido!!  That crazy proposition planted the nutty idea,

and I couldn't shake it.  My amazement was that my silly goose of a

beautiful wife was actually willing to pose for those photos.  At

19!!  From a straight nice little Irish Catholic background.  She

would do it!!  That silly little cunt would actually do it!

  Well it took almost five years, five fucking years after the

"proposition" to pull off the real McCoy, but this wasn't posing for

animal crackers.  Not by then.  No, boy.  Things had really moved

along in our sex life.  When my wife got propositioned, back in '61,

there was no way you could have convinced me that, in a short five

years after, when she'd gotten her nursing degree and was a

practicing nurse, the sweet thing would end up the solo performer at

her first, and what I thought would be her only, real stag show.  A

stag party, a gang fuck.  Yup, a gang fuck.  You got it, baby.  A

pile on.  The two of us dancing, still dressed, alone on a small

wooden dance floor, under lights, packed with close-in, steamed up,

teased up, panting guys, surrounded by a wall of watchers, their

tongues hanging down to the floor.  Waiting.



            What Happened to Amateur Stag Performers



  I was nutty!!  Crazy!!  You know what we were facing, my Eileen and

me, with that nutty obsession?  In some States, just because we were

amateurs.  We were not like the regular whores and pimps who did

stags, professionals who paid off the cops, or who let the stag

performer fuck the cops as a "gratuity", if the cops wanted it. 

Amateurs like us could've spent months, or even possibly more of our

lives in jail, if we'd been caught.  That is, if we'd been lucky. 

Yeah, a jail sentence would have been lucky, in Massachusetts,

compared to the alternative.  Well, if a pro was going to get off the

hook by sucking off a bunch of cops, how about your wife?  What the

hell, she'd fucked a crowd at a stag performance, hadn't she?  Well,

you became a free fuck station for every cop who wanted a quick fuck

and blow job after you'd been nailed.  Till a couple finally got the

point and moved out of State.

  I don't have the facts, but have to confess that I never read of

one amateur stag performer who was busted in a raid for having sex at

a bachelor party in Massachusetts being brought to trial.  Unusual? 

Why?  Was Massachussets a tolerant State?  Hell, no!!!  Not with the

Catholic hierarchy and Protestant blue-noses rampant.  No way, Jose,

was Massachusetts lenient.   I'll give you the whole story in other

chapters in these books, but even now, I can fill you in on what

happened to unlucky amateur fuckers in Massachusetts that will blow

your socks off.  No shit, for real.  It certainly sounds strange

enough to be unreal.

  Back in those days, as I said, it was the rarest of rare things

that amateurs fucked in stag shows.  Some of the few were caught. 

Off and on.  By accident.  Maybe you could get away with doing one

stag, once, for kicks, anonymously, and never go for seconds. 

There'd be no cops setting up to raid you, that way, on your second

try.  But if a couple did more than one stag show, they were

certainly taking a chance of being caught.  They were.  It happened.

  There were very, very infrequently these little bitty squibs, short

articles, maybe a couple of column-inches long, in the Boston

American, or the Boston Record, whatever its predecessor was, a

Hearst tabloid, about stag party busts.  Maybe once or twice a year. 

Or more.  At the time we had this anti-porno happy Sergeant in the

State Police who made a big deal about busting stag shows.  He was a

real bugger about dirty pictures.

  But what never hit the papers was news about what happened to these

couples after arrest, their cases seemed to disappear from public

view.  That was strange.  Because, if you ever looked at the Boston

rags after arrests, you never saw news about prosecutions, only

arrests.  Now why do you suppose that would have been?

  Well, just think about it for a second.  Would the "public" care

about some couple stupid enough to get caught fucking for a bachelor

party, anyway, except for the reporters who could generate a

momentary titillating thrill for their readers, exposing somebody's

perversity?  Was that really a threat to public safety?  Nobody

really cared if the couple got jailed, or got off.  It was all just a

high-spirited dirty joke, after all, some couple out for a "kick".

Hey there was a real problem with real prostitutes, and racial

troubles, and the Vietnam War.  So some dumb fucks were fucking in a

Vet's Club, who cared, good luck to them!!!  Lucky Vets!!

  So, with that situation, put yourself in a vice cop's place.  A

corrupt, horny vice cop.  As a cop, you're never supposed to fuck the

hookers, right?  It's part of the "code", right?  If you did you

would be risking your ass, getting canned.  But everybody else was

getting ass.  Always a bridesmaid, never a bride.  And, besides who

would have wanted to fuck some toilet of a whore, anyway?  Now, you

got this bust of an ordinary married couple.  As a cop, could you

imagine a better edge you could have on a really "clean" couple, a

couple that had been caught fucking in public, than the fact you

could send them to the klink?.  What the fuck was the point of that? 

Sending them off to jail?  Some asshole had gotten his even bigger

asshole of a wife to fuck and suck a bunch of guys.  Made her into a

fucking whore.  Right?  This pricker obviously didn't give a shit who

his wife fucked.  Why not you?  Hey, a free piece of ass.  A golden

opportunity.

  These two dumb fucks didn't want to go to jail.  Hey, if you, a

cop, just wanted them to do the same thing for you, just once, since

they'd already fucked their heads off for a bunch of civilians, what

couple in their right minds wouldn't fuck the cop and his buddies,

just have the wife suck off a few more dicks, and the cops would let

them off scot free.  The little lady had already sucked cock, so what

was new?  "Just let your wife suck my dick a little like she did at

the party, buddy.  No skin off your teeth."  Quite a con?  You could

see that happening, couldn't you?.  It did.  It was standard

procedure.  If that was all, well, what the hell!  The couple

wouldn't do stags anymore, that was for sure.  What harm in it. the

cop got a little free piece of ass.  This fucking asshole of a

husband was making his wife's pussy into a urinal, anyway.  Could

have been just another cock blown off at the party.  One cock more or

less, and the joke is ended right there.

  If that had been all there was to it, it would have been a minor

corrupt end to something the cops should never have been involved in

in the first place.  I admit it is hearsay, but there were supposed

to have been instances of sexual enslavement or harrassment of wives,

and even more perverse, of families of amateur couples down in

Massachusetts, which didn't just end that way.  There's no way the

news of these events could have ever broken out into the public.  It

was a system that was guaranteed to get some unfortunate victims of

police sexual blackmail stuck into a horror that broke their lives.

  There was nobody to complain to about what they'd been subjected

to.  Just think about it.  After a couple was raided at a stag show,

or worse, entrapped into giving a stag show by the cops themselves,

what could they do to get out of what followed.  Nothing.  Just look

at the judgement that would have been on them.  After al, they'd done

a stag show willingly, hadn't they.  I'd heard, from someone who'd

lived it, that couples were not just let go after sucking off a few

cops cocks.  It was like being caught by a loan shark.  You never get

out from under.

  And it was done in a real insidious way.  The way cops use "good

cop, bad cop" routines on criminals.  There was always some cop,

apperently with sincerity, "playing" good cop.  What does a "caught

couple" do when some fake sympathy is offered to them after being

caught "wide open" by the cops?  Isn't a shocked and totally shamed

arrested couple relieved and grateful when they meet some

"kind-hearted" cops who seem to understand the couple's freakiness in

the exhibitionism department?   Kind-hearted like a crocodile.  That

was the hook and the bait used to catch these poor fish.

  The opener was to have the wife or woman suck off one cop's dick. 

And then, after a "social" visit, repeat the same ext.  Then the

stakes were escalated.  Since the unfortunate couple had already been

"caught in the act" of giving a sex show, or the woman, girl-friend

or wife had already fucked a number of guys at a stag show, what was

one more sex show, more or less, or one more dick in the lady's hole,

more or less, between "friends", especially of the "friends" could

see to it that the charges could be swept under the rug, in exchange

for a "favor"?  Get the picture?

  These cops used that bait to suck in such couples further, so they

couldn't back out anymore, they would escalate the level of

involvement, get the couple deeper into performing perverted sex

acts.  Before Eileen and I ever got into doing stags I learned

details and and more details about it from one couple we were

involved with personally, and closely (boy, will you see how close!).

It taught me a lot about how to run my own similar sex obsession in

the following years, and how to be clear of problems when I started

playing out my own nuttiness.

  I should drop the subject, because these were only a few rotten

apples, of all the vice cops, a little band of vice cops, Staties and

locals.  But some cops bragged to victims, to degrade them even more,

to let them know where they stood, to terrorize them about the power

these cops had over them.  I'd heard horror tales about what they

were eventually forcing the couples to do to avoid prosecution, as

they got them further down the betrayal path.  Things like forced

family sex.

  The thing is you could never prove any of this, or bring cops to

justice.  I'll give a recent example.  There was a protest, based on

a complaint of a woman, not a prostitute, but an ordinary woman sho

dated a cop, who claimed she's been gang raped.  the case was never

prosecuted.  It did result in the closing of so-called Private Clubs

maintained by Boston cops, sometime around 1987.   There was a

quickly quashed scandal about a small number of cops maintaining

these Private Clubs where other women besides this complainant had

been brought in and forced, many times, to have sex with officers.

  That's in these times.  Now think back to way back then.  If a

couple had opened their sexual bed to mass penetration at a stag

show, from a cop's sexually bigoted point of view, the woman was a

commmon ordinary slut.  That was 30 years ago.  Probably those

fucking cops are still alive, having ruined these folks' lives.  So

you should have an idea of the kind of legal environment, the

policing and emotional setting in which my wife and I operated, if

you didn't actually live through it.





--------------------------------------------------------------------

                       Epilogue



  If these reworks of Pace's "Books", as he calls them, interest you,

I will continue to post them here.  From start to finish each page

costs me about an hour and a half out of a busy life.  Reactions are

motivating.   Especially appreciative reactions.  I am not a

masochist and do not thrive on negative or nasty carping.  Comments

can be left to me privately, by invoking the R security restriction

on Rusty & Edie's BBS.  I will answer.

  I believe that what Pace described really did happen.  Would also

appreciate feedback in the form of remarks or information from other

people about other couples who indulged in similar activities.  Or

first person descriptions by males who may have attended either

Pace's performances, or other such performances by amateurs,

especially from the New York, Chicago, Dallas, New Orleans, LA or Bay

Area.

  Such couples as Pace and his wife Eileen intrigue me.  If anyone

has has indulged in similar activity, correspondence or email of any

quality would be appreciated.



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