|An Interview with a
by Paul Branton ©
The following is a transcript of a taped interview I had with a young woman, Judy, who consented to the interview when she learned, from a friend of a friend of a friend, that I wrote and edited erotic literature. The words are Judy's; I have only edited out those details necessary to preserve her privacy and I have reordered some of the paragraphs to avoid non-sequiturs and to improve readability. The details that have been edited are noted by [brackets].
The primary interview lasted nearly 2 hours and took place in a local restaurant on September 3, 1999, and a brief follow-up interview, to answer questions I had after reviewing the initial transcript, took place over the telephone on October 4, 1999.
Judy is 38, attractive, nicely-dressed but comfortably so, and exudes a great deal of poise and intelligence. She looks like she'd fit in on Wall Street, at a charity event or at a PTA meeting. This is the first time that we have met. Before the interview began we spent an hour or so having lunch and making small talk so that Judy could make sure that she felt comfortable with me and my conducting the interview.
* * * * *
Paul: First, Judy, I want to thank you for granting me this interview.
Judy: It's my pleasure.
Paul: The ground rules are that I will hold your identity, or anything that might enable someone to determine your identity, in strict confidence, and we'll stop at any time if you feel uncomfortable or just want to stop for any reason. Okay?
Paul: And you understand that I'm taping our conversation, but that I will only release a transcript of our conversation. I won't let anyone hear you voice.
Judy: I understand.
Paul: Good. Then let's begin. Would you start by telling me why you wanted to do this interview?
Judy: Well, first, I'm only doing the interview because you promised it would be published and I want to help other women out there from needlessly sacrificing their happiness like I almost did. I want women to know that if they keep strong and are patient, Prince Charming will come along, even if they have deep doubts that he ever will.
Paul: How did you almost sacrifice your happiness?
Judy: By getting married to a man who wasn't suited to me or my needs.
Paul: But you're married now, right?
Judy: To the most wonderful guy. His name is Ken.
Paul: Okay, so tell me, why is Ken so special.
Judy: Well, he's cute and he's kind and he's got a wonderful sense of humor. I also like that he's intelligent and a good provider and, of course, he loves me and I love him.
Paul: I'm happy for you. How long have you been married?
Judy: Six years. Seven next June 14th.
Paul: So how did you almost sacrifice your happiness?
Judy: By allowing society to dictate my standards for a husband, and for suggesting that what I wanted in a husband couldn't exist without my marrying some disgusting, coke-snorting, Times Square pimp.
For example, my college sorority was full of some of the most beautiful, but most compromising, girls I ever met.
In general, their primary qualification for a husband was that he was kind and that he made a good living. And when they found a suitable candidate, especially if it was their senior year, they'd play 'the game' to snag him.
For example, my junior-year roommate's standard for an acceptable man was simple, even if was a little more shallow than average. One, he had to be older than she was, two, he had to be taller than she was, and three, he had to be a doctor. By the way she preferred a doctor who had normal hours, like uh . . uhm, what do you call it, a skin doctor . .
Paul: A dermatologist.
Judy: Ya, a dermatologist, I couldn't think of the word. What was I saying? Oh ya. She preferred a doctor like a dermatologist who had normal hours rather than like a surgeon or an ER doctor with crazy hours.
She reasoned that tall, dark and handsome millionaires, who were tender lovers and faithful to their dying day were in short supply, and, therefore, that she was only being reasonable. If she loved him that was gravy. In return, she would be the perfect little wife, mother and homemaker.
Paul: Do you know what happened to her?
Judy: Ya, I was a bridesmaid in her wedding. She married one of the nicest guys I know: he's older than she is, taller than she is, and he's in med school. If only I were so easily satisfied.
Paul: He sound's like a catch. So why wouldn't you be satisfied with someone like him?
Judy: Unfortunately, I wanted a man who was handsome and kind and who I loved and who understood that although I would always love him and that I would always maintain an image of respectability, that there were times when I need to be a real slut. . . . I don't mean some mouth-breathing, trailer-park trashette with too many tattoos and the IQ of lint. I mean a fucking slut. A cum-sucking, ball-licking, dick-riding, orgasmic slut.
Paul: I'm not offended, and I want you to feel comfortable to speak freely, but do you normally use that kind of language?
Judy: Absolutely not. In public I won't even say "Darn."
Paul: I assume you realize that many readers will be surprised to learn that a well-educated, well-mannered, respectable woman would say such things, let alone think them.
Judy: Then they have something to learn.
Paul: I'm sure you're right. Getting back to your earlier comment about men, I think that every man wants his wife to be a "slut." You know the saying, the perfect wife is a lady in public, a woman at home, and a whore in the bedroom.
Judy: Yes, but only in his bedroom. I wanted to be a whore in other guy's bedrooms too and I wanted a husband who'd accept me, . . . no, that's not it, ... a husband who'd help me be a whore in a lot of bedrooms and who'd love me for it.
Paul: I can see why you thought you might have to settle for the pimp.
Judy: It wasn't a question of whether I would love him or not. I wasn't asking to love other men. I wasn't asking to live with them or care for them. I was just asking for sex.
Paul: Love, sex, marriage, lust and intimacy are all different. I think most people know that.
Judy: Well, the fact that some don't is one of the reasons I didn't get married until I was 31, and let me tell you there were times, many times, when I was so lonely that I was sure that my Prince Charming couldn't exist and that I actually envied my ex-roommate "Mrs. Doctor." It was then that I almost got married — what a mistake that would have been.
Paul: Tell me about it.
Judy: I had a boyfriend, Phil, who I thought might be Prince Charming. We'd gone out for several months, he was really cute, he was kind, he had a good job, and the sex was great. We even talked about getting married.
We'd already discussed all of the important issues you should discuss before you get married, you know, one bathroom or two, who sleeps on which side of the bed, and are anchovies an appropriate pizza topping.
I really liked Phil, and I was sure I could grow to love him, but I was really nervous about his reaction to my licentious need. I wasn't so naïve to think that every guy's image of his wife included: mom, homemaker, village whore. In fact, I liked Phil so much, and I was so lonely at the time and so sure that I wouldn't . . . that I couldn't find Prince Charming that I considered marrying him anyway and suppressing my lust.
Paul: But you didn't.
Judy: No. One afternoon, we were fucking ourselves into a frenzy when he rolled me over onto my stomach and started pushing his dick into my ass. I loved it when he came in my ass. Normally at this point during sex I'd be thinking about his coming in my ass, the last guy who came in my ass, and the next guy who would come in my ass, but I was more concerned about our long-term prospects.
Actually, the sex was making me so horny that it made be brave, and so I asked him if he would mind if I continued to have other men after we were married. . . .
Paul: I assume his response wasn't positive.
Judy: I never saw him again. . . . and don't think it didn't hurt.
Paul: I would think it would.
Judy: It hurt terribly and I felt so alone that for weeks I thought about calling him and telling him that I was teasing and that I'd never, ever even think about another man, that he was all the man I would ever need. But I didn't.
Paul: Good for you.
Judy: It would be a lie, and somehow at the grand old age of 27 I knew I'd rather be single forever than married on false pretenses to a man who didn't love the real me, but only what I pretended to be.
Paul: Did you consider marrying a "regular" guy and cheating on him.
Judy: No. It's not my style.
Paul: Tell me about your husband, his name is Ken, right?
Judy: Yes, Ken. . . . Where do I begin? Well, a couple of years later, when I was at a time in my life when I wasn't really looking for a guy, I met Ken at [an internationally well-known organization that provides relief for disaster victims] where he and I were both volunteers. We were gathering food and clothing for the people in Florida after hurricane Hugo.
Paul: I'm going to edit out the name of that group to protect your privacy and to keep them from being offended by this interview. Okay?
Paul: I'm sorry to interrupt, please continue.
Judy: As I was saying, Ken was really kind, he was two and half years younger than I was and he had a great sense of humor. He really could make me laugh, but he wasn't a clown. Anyway, we started dating and one night, early in our relationship, we were having sex when I said, "Would it make you jealous if I had another lover?" His answer made me fall in love.
Paul: And it was?
Judy: It was "Could I be there?" Then he told me that nothing would excite him more than watching me fuck another guy except the chance to fuck me with another guy. You know, his answer made me come like mad. I made sure that by the end of the evening Ken's balls were so empty they looked like raisins.
Paul: He was probably looking for you as much as you were looking for him. I'm glad you found each other.
Judy: Thanks. Me too. A few months later we got engaged. I had one Isadora Wing-type zipless fuck with a guy I met on a business trip in the meantime, which I told Ken about, and which he was cool about, but we didn't do the threesome I was lusting for. It wasn't that I doubted Ken's sincerity, but I . . . I kind of wanted some assurance that it was going to be okay before we got married.
Paul: His acceptance of your affair on the business trip wasn't enough?
Judy: It helped. It helped a lot. Anyway, we planned a beautiful traditional wedding, with all of our friends and family, and a flight to Paris the next day for our honeymoon.
The night before the wedding, Ken's friends threw him a bachelor party and . . . well . . . the party came . . . and went. I don't know what I was thinking but I was disappointed I wasn't involved. Obviously, not many brides dream about being gang-banged at the bachelor party the night before their wedding, but I did.
Our wedding was beautiful, and the reception was beautiful, and I was so happy that I cried. I guess I have a romantic streak.
That night we stayed at the [deleted] Hotel where we had our reception and made love for the first time as husband and wife. I was so happy that I cried some more.
As we laid in bed there was a knock at the door—I assumed it was Champagne or something—and who was there but Ken's Best Man, Mark, to harass us and, I guessed, to keep us from enjoying ourselves. And then Ken got up, went to the door and let him in. I thought to myself, "Ken, what are you doing? Don't let Mark in here, he'll sit and watch TV all night and annoy the shit out of us."
Well, Ken knew exactly what he was doing and before I knew it Ken and Mark and I were naked in bed. Ken said that Mark was my wedding present.
Do you know what those two guys did?
Paul: I'll bet I can guess.
Judy: They tag-teamed me until two o'clock in the morning! Mark fucked me while Ken rested and then Ken fucked me while Mark rested. That went on until I was so sore I didn't want to be near a man and just wanted to sleep. I have no idea how many times I came that night.
Paul: Have you had sex with anyone else since then?
Judy: I've had some one-night stands. Once, I fucked the living daylights out of our [a large well-known package delivery service] guy on our living room carpet. You can't believe the service we get now.
Paul: Does Ken know about the one-night stands?
Judy: All of them. He gets really worked up hearing about them and I love getting him worked up. He gets so worked up I thought about making up a story once, but then I thought, why bother? So I went out and did it for real and then told him what happened.
Paul: Is that it? Just some one-night stands by yourself?
Judy: Several times a year, we find another guy and all spend the night together. We just got a video camera, and last time Ken filmed me fucking the other guy. I couldn't believe it when I watched it later. It was so funny I couldn't believe it. Ken wants to put the video on one of those new Web sites that have popped up that show real couples fucking.
Paul: Do you think you will?
Judy: Maybe. If they can hide my face. I must admit that I'd get a kick out of my neighbors watching me fuck without knowing who I am.
Paul: What's the longest you've gone without having sex with other men since you've been married?
Judy: About ten months. When we decided to have a baby, I abstained while I tried to get pregnant. I had a little trouble getting pregnant, it took seven months, and when I finally did get pregnant I was so happy I cried. I was happy because of my baby, but I was also happy because being pregnant meant that I could screw around again. It was when I was six weeks pregnant that I just about attacked the [large well-known package delivery service] guy at our front door.
Paul: Do you have any last thoughts?
Judy: I have two things to say. First to all the woman out there like me, be brave until you find your Prince Charming. He's out there somewhere. And second, to all the men out there I'd like to say that if your wife or girlfriend wants to fuck another guy, let her do it. Help her do it. You may think that it will diminish the quality or quantity of the sex you get. On the contrary, I think you'll be much happier.
Paul: That's it?
Judy: Ya. I think so. You should interview Ken and get his side of the story.
Paul: Thanks, I might do that.
1999 Paul Branton. All Rights Reserved.
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