John just kept on looking at me without saying anything, and in a way that was worse than if he had laughed at the silly thing I'd blurted out, or even asked me what the hell I was talking about. In these few moments my brain was whirling with panic while I tried to figure out whether I should laugh it off as a pointless slip of my tongue or try to explain that I had meant something else. If John should learn that I had really meant exactly what I had said, even though I had not meant to say it, I had visions of my whole business and personal life going to pieces in an awful mess.

Who would want to associate in business or admit he knew as a friend a monster in human form who dreamed of raping and otherwise sexually abusing little girls? And that is just the kind of a perverted ogre I am. Lying in bed alone at night, all I have to do is start thinking in every possible lewd detail about having some immature girl in my power, naked, maybe eight years old, helpless, and I begin to get excited. If I go on in my fantasy so that I imagine feeling all over her writhing little body with my hands, and hearing her scream and protest against what I am doing to her, then my cock begins to stiffen and my fingers quiver with passion. And if I go on from here to where I'm trying to jam my big tool into the little slit and hole between her childish thighs, — well I just shoot my load and may not even have to touch my throbbing cock with my own hands to make it go off.

Adult mature women and girls, no matter how beautiful of face and body, all leave me fairly cold. That was one of the reasons for my divorce. I didn't work up enthusiasm often enough to satisfy my wife, and she began to suspect that my sexual interests were not centered around her. She never guessed what I really wanted, thank God, and we were divorced before anything happened to give her any hint.

Every now and then I'd find some pornographic book that told about men having sex with little girls, and that would provide me with some thrills, but most of the time my sexual activities were purely mental, in my own brain. And now that I was in my mid-forties and very successful in business, I had taken a chance on losing everything by my carelessness in speaking after martinis at lunch.