At fourteen, I was associating with boys several years older than myself, some of whom had had experiences with adult females, some even with prostitutes. In the light of their revelations, my own little adventures seemed insipid and infantile. I learned of mysterious houses where one could go and have his choice from among a number of luscious young females on display in the nude. There was a certain section of the city allotted to their special occupancy, whole blocks of buildings devoted to the traffic of commercialized sexual pleasures.

Grown women! It must feel much nicer to do it with an adult woman than with an immature, inexperienced little girl! The thought grew, ob-cessed me, seit my fancy on fire. And still I dared not think of trying to enter one of these palaces of delight, for though I knew where they were located, boys under eighteen were not supposed to be admitted. I could pass for sixteen easy enough, but hardly eighteen.

One of my friends became the envied owner of a packet of pictures of nude women. They were passed from hand to hand. I persuaded the fortunate owner to let me take them home with me over night. I wanted to enjoy them in private, at leisure, in the seclusion of my room. One by one I examined them with my jcock sticking up and threatening to go off by mere force of mental stimulation. What took my eye was the fascinating triangle of curly hair which stood out so prominently on the pubic regions of the models. None of the little girls I had had dealings with had hair down there, or at least more than a soft, incipient, almost imperceptible growth. The thick, curly profusion which adorned the sexual regions of the ladies in these pictures held my eyes in fascination. What an exquisite sensation those ciisp curls woult provoke as they tickled one's cock and testicles! And their breasts, full, round iand luscious, projecting outward like snowy hills! Not a girl I knew had anything to compare with what these pictures revealed.