So strong is society's irrational prejudice against incest that individuals who are convicted of this "crime" (penalty of up to twenty years in jail in California and New Mexico) often pretend to their fellow inmates that they are serving time for some other offence like armed robbery, for the incest offender is like the child molester-an object of contempt even to men who have committed murders and other similarly vicious crimes.
No more telling indictment of society's cockeyed values could be made than this fact that a man who has perhaps beaten some aged storekeeper to death feels that he has a right to despise someone who may well be guilty of nothing other than falling in love and wishing to give this love some kind of physical expression.
"But," the layman may object, "incest is so unnatural that it is prohibited in every known society!"
This is one of those "facts" which proves more than anything else how a little knowledge can be a dangerous thing, or at least how it can lead to less rather than more understanding.
It is true that some form of incestuous behavior is prohibited in virtually all societies, but what these forms are varies so much that what is forbidden in one place may actually be required in another. For instance, among the Yakuts of Siberia, a girl usually marries outside of the family, but before the wedding, her brother takes her virginity. (1) And according to William Graham Sumner, there are societies that seem to have only a very hazy notion of incest. (2) What is the origin of the incest taboo? Freud had an elaborate theory on the subject, (3) but admitted that "still in the end, one is compelled to subscribe to Fraser's resigned statement, namely that we do not know the origin of the incest dread, and do not even know how to guess at it." (4) Certainly society's revulsion towards incest
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1. In R. E. L. Master, Patterns of Incest, N.Y., 1963 p. 38
2. Op. cit., p. 37
3. S. Freud, Totem and Taboo, passim
4. S. Freud, Civilization and its Discontents, in Masters, op. cit., p. 186
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cannot spring from any innate instincts in man. As Tridon rather deftly puts it, "the horror of incest which we all feel or pretend to feel is indeed an acquired feeling. Since every race has adopted strong legal measures to prevent incest, it can only be because incest is one of the cravings which mankind is constantly struggling against ... If men and women avoided incest instinctively, no legislation would be needed compelling them to avoid it." (1) Whatever the origins of the incest taboo-and this book does not intend to go into that problem-incestuous relations remain a very real fact of life in America today. Statistics are hard to come by, for obvious reasons, but it is clear to any practicing psychologist or psychiatrist that incestuous desires are put into actuality very frequently indeed.
Who are the people who end up having sexual relations with their children or siblings? Why do they do so? And what is the psychological result of their action? It is my hope to be able to shed a bit of light on these difficult questions by presenting five different examples of incest: brother-sister, father-daughter, mother-son, uncle-niece and aunt-nephew. The cases are drawn from my files as a clinical psychologist, and consist of the individual's first person account of his
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1. Andre Tridon, Psychoanalysis and Love, New York, 1949, p. 31
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incestuous activities, plus my own diagnostic and prognostic notes.
Obviously, each reader's reaction to these narratives will probably differ from every other reader's to some degree. But if he is a person of sensitivity, I suspect that two things will greatly strike his attention.
The first is what ordinary people these so-called "offenders" are. They are not some sort of depraved monsters who deserve the condemnation of society, but rather living, breathing people with their own hopes, and aspirations and fears, their own sense of self and their own guilt.
Guilt. That is the second feature of the following cases that I would expect to see a reader notice. Most of the individuals he will encounter would seem to offer ample support to Freud's contention that "the prohibition against the incest object-choice was perhaps the most maiming wound ever inflicted ... on the erotic life of man."(l) And just as the taboo against incest is purely social in its origin, so to is the guilt which men and women feel when they violate the taboo. As Masters says, "the behavior [incest] is damaging, partly or entirely because it is so strongly prohibited. The forbidden act has been psychically charged with a kind of toxic force that strikes at the psyche of the violator." (2)
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1. Freud, op. cit., p. 34
2. Masters, op. cit., p. 195
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Masters is so appalled at the harm done by incest-guilt that he is in favor of all statutes against incest, including those which prohibit incestuous marriage, being removed from the books. (3)
Perhaps he is right. I for one believe that the individual should stick to his own special field of competence, and since I am not a jurist, I do not wish to get into making specific legal recommendations. What I would like to do in the pages that follow, however, is to make clear to the reader how much of his and society's thinking on the subject of incest is blind prejudice. Whether this means that laws should be changed or not, I do not know, or rather, though I have my own opinions on the subject, I do not feel that I should be using this book as a forum for them, for no amount of law-changing is going to have any value without a preceding change of heart by those who regard incest as the abomination of abominations. We can only say that we are making progress with a social problem when it is clear that blind prejudice and hostility are replaced with understanding and compassion. It is in the hope of speeding up that process that this book is offered.
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3. Masters, op. sit., p. 199
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CASE HISTORY ONE
Heidi T. was a pretty fifteen year old who was brought in to see me by her mother because of growing depression and listlessness.
"You should have seen her only five or six months ago, Doctor," the blonde teenager's mother said to me. "It used to be that she was the most popular girl in school, and one of the best students, too. Now, all she does is sit around and mope. Her schoolwork has gone all to pieces, and of course that bothers me, but what I'm more worried about is the fact that she seems to be so unhappy."
I got the impression that the mother was telling the truth, that what bothered her was the daughter's unhappiness rather than the deterioration in her schoolwork. I make a point of this, because sometimes a very short meeting with a parent is sufficient to indicate what the origin of much of the child's difficulties may be-if the parent is overly pushy, or cold, or something like that. Mrs. T. was none of those, and I got the impression that she was probably an excellent mother, kind and understanding. That meant that Heidi's problems must lie elsewhere.
I explained to Mrs. T. that I had to interview Heidi in private, and she readily agreed. When we were alone, I said to the girl, "Well, Heidi, is there anything you'd like to talk to me about?"
"No, I don't think so," she said listlessly.
"You certainly don't sound like a very happy girl," I put in. "Did you used to be happier?"
"I guess so," she said.
"Heidi, let's lay our cards on the table," I said. "I think that your mother's right, that something is really bugging you. Now if you cooperate and tell me what it is, maybe I can take care of it for you. But if you just sit there, things'll never get better. Some problems don't go away by themselves."
She looked up at me suddenly with troubled eyes.
"I know they don't, Doctor," she said, "but I just don't think that I can tell you."
"Why not, Heidi?"
"You've seen my mother," she said.
"Your mother agreed that everything you say in here should be confidential," I replied. "And I wouldn't have permitted it to be any other way."
"I know, but that's not what I mean. It's rather that I feel so rotten about behaving like I have when I have a swell mother like that that I'm just too ashamed to let anyone know what I've done...."
Her voice trembled on the last word, and I could see that she was very close to tears. Human guilt is a frightful thing to see, particularly when (as was doubtless the case here) it is unmerited.
"Heidi, your problem is sexual, isn't it?"
Silence. But I could tell from the look on her face that I had hit it exactly. Not that that was very difficult. Our society has such rigid sexual rules that most of the guilt displayed in therapists' offices is sexual in origin.
"Have you had relations with another girl, perhaps?" I asked.
"No, it's even worse than that," she said. Then, with a gulp she added, "I have sex with my brother!"
The look on her face showed that she expected me to be horrified, and I could hardly say if she was more surprised or relieved by the fact that I continued to gaze at her with the same expression I had worn before she dropped her bombshell.
"Heidi," I said quietly, "literally scores of girls have told me the same thing about themselves."
"And you've been able to help them."
"In many cases, yes."
"Cure them?"
"If you mean ensure that they no longer have any sexual desire for their brothers, yes, though what is 'cured' in the underlying psychological problems, of which the incestuous behavior is usually just a manifestation. But for me to help you, you'll have to tell me everything about the sexual relations between yourself and your brother."
"All right," she said with another gulp, and then began....
My brother Ted and I have always gotten on well together, for as long as I can remember. When I was a little girl, I could never understand it when my girlfriends talked about how they fought with their brothers. As far as I was concerned, a brother was a neat guy who protected you, and told you funny jokes, and was fun to be with.
As I grew up, Ted and I tended to spend less time with each other, though, since we were both dating. But we still liked to take walks and chat together, and do things like that.
Well, when all this began, several months ago, I felt a bit down, and had for a couple of weeks. You see, I'd just broken up with my boyfriend, and I guess I wasn't adjusting too well to being alone.
Ted noticed that I was down in the dumps, and in his typical good-natured way he tried to cheer me up by keeping me busy. You know what I mean. He'd always be suggesting that we take in a matinee, or do something like that.
But don't get me wrong. At that time, I think the last thing that either of us was thinking was that we might wind up in the sack together.
You know how it is with depression, Doctor. One morning, you may feel fine, and the next, without anything special having gone wrong, you feel pretty sorry for yourself.
Well, one morning, I was just kind of moping around, and Ted noticed how I felt.
"Hey, sis," he said brightly, "let's do something that we haven't done in ages."
"What?"
"Go swimming in Foster's Pond."
Foster's Pond was this sort of swimming hole that he and I used to swim in years and years ago. It wasn't very far from where we lived as kids, though it was quite a distance from our present house. We hadn't been there in maybe five or six years.
"Gee," I said, "that's kind of a neat idea. Do you suppose that it's still the same?" I knew that I'd be really disappointed if it had been spoiled or something, because I had a lot of really nice memories of going there with my brother and my mom and dad when I was a little girl.
"Sure it is, I bet," Ted said. "Heck, it's in the middle of nowhere." In fact, it was in the middle of the old Foster estate, but everyone in town knew that the Foster estate was going to he tied up in lawsuits until the Last Judgement. And there weren't any housing projects around there, either.
We were really excited about the idea of going back to Foster's Pond for the first time in all those years. We quickly grabbed some stuff for a picnic lunch and dashed out the door.
Maybe if we hadn't been in such a hurry, all this incest business would never have gotten started. You see, as soon as we got to Foster's Pond, I saw a look of annoyance come over Ted's face.
"Don't tell me we've forgotten something?" I asked.
"Our suits!"
We'd remembered to take lunch, towels, everything, but we hadn't remembered to take our bathing suits! We both felt like kicking ourselves. One reason that Foster's Pond was so secluded was that there was no road to it, so we had had to walk a really long way to get there. The whole day would be wasted if we went back to get our suits.
"Heck, we don't need 'em anyway," Ted said.
I looked at him, a bit surprised.
"Why, when we were kids, we used to get glimpses of each other all the time!" Ted said. "Besides, I tell you what we can do. You can take your clothes off and get in the water while I look the other way. Then I can do the same. The water's kind of muddy, so when we're swimming in it, it'll be just as if we had suits on."
That sounded like it made sense, and since the alternative was for the whole trip to be spoiled, I readily agreed to it. Soon, we were paddling around in the water, naked as jaybirds.
Ted and I have always liked to horse around in water more than really swim. So we splashed each other and did a lot of things like that.
Somehow, I found it really exciting to be playing around like that. Anyway, I managed to get in a really good splash that caught Ted right with his eves open.
"You little bitch!" he said, laughing, "when I get you I'm going to dunk you!"
When we were little kids, and I splashed him, he'd sometimes put his hand on my head and push it under water.
"Oh no you're not," I said, heading away from him. The thing was that I was heading for shore. Normally, if we had been wearing bathing suits, that would have been the normal place for me to try and escape to, and I guess that I was just too excited to remember that I didn't have a suit on. I splashed out of the water, and he came splashing after me. The whole thing turned into a game of tag, with both of us up running around on the grass and laughing. My tits flopped as I ran, and so did his prick. There was something about the way that his prick was flopping, though, that indicated that it wasn't completely limp.
Ted could run faster than I, of course, and soon he grabbed me. He tripped as he did so, and we both fell on to the grass.
When we were really little, we used to wrestle a lot (with our clothes on, of course), and since this whole trip of Foster's Pond was kind of a nostalgia binge, I don't think that either of us thought it strange that we should end up wrestling and laughing.
There were two things different now from when we were little kids, however. In the first place, we were stark naked, and in the second, we weren't kids any more. I know it sounds funny, but I guess you'd have to say that we were really a man and a woman!
And any doubts that I could have had about Ted being a man were taken care of by the feeling of that prick of his against my body as we wrestled!
I could feel it stiffen up as we rolled around, and it wasn't long before it was completely hard. Every time we rolled or tried to get some wrestling hold on each other, I'd feel that stiff male organ, which, whether it's owner knew it or not, obviously wanted to get up my wet little pussy and fire its load in there!
My pussy obviously didn't think that that was a bad idea, either. As I continued to feel the press of his male organ, my vagina got wetter and wetter, and my nipples really started to bud and swell, too, which wasn't surprising, seeing as now one of the "wrestling holds" that he seemed to be trying was a tithold!
Neither of us had this planned, but somehow it seemed completely natural when he finally pinned me for him to pull his hips back and slide his cock on into my tender body!
"Oooooh!" I gasped, but it was a gasp of pleasure, not one of surprise, let alone shock. That hard thing just felt so good, pressing my cunt-walls apart and ramming in until the tip of it was pressing against the mouth of my womb.
I wasn't a virgin-one of the reasons that I was so depressed about breaking up with my boyfriend was that I had fucked with him and as a result felt very close to him. But I hadn't had any cock upside that woman-pipe of mine since the breakup, which had been several weeks ago. Now I'm a kind of horny chick, Doctor, so I'm not kidding when I say that having prick inside me again was really something else!
Ted hesitated for just a split second with that charger of his nestling in the warmth of my pussy, and then he pulled back and started pumping.
We'd gotten so worked up with all the preliminary splashing around and tag-playing that all this seemed perfectly natural to us, as if it were just something else that was part of the games that we had planned.
In! Out! In! Out! Game or not, he was really going to with my cunt, and I was loving every minute of it. Ted's always had a reputation as a guy who got around with the girls, and it was obvious that he had had plenty of practice on other twats before he got to mine, and anyway, it's pretty clear that he has real natural aptitude. Kenny, my ex-boyfriend, could always bring me off pretty well, but man, the way he fucked me was nothing compared to the action that I was getting from Ted.
In the first place, those strokes of Ted's were really firm and manly, but they didn't hurt or anything. He knew just the kind of happy medium to hit between being a wimp and being too rough. And something about the way he kind of angled his prick brought an extra amount of pressure against the rear wall of my fuck-tube, and cause my labia and clit to rub together in the most tantalizing fashion possible!
Buck! Buck! Buck! I could tell that he had to be really frantic, because he was giving me the meat like there was no tomorrow. The excitement of the chase was expressing itself now as the excitement of possession. It was as if every thrust of his was a declaration that he owned my cunt! And that's just exactly what I wanted, too, if he could deliver the kind of action that I was getting now!
It wasn't just my vagina that was getting turned on, either. Although I'm sure that Ted's seen plenty of pairs of tits in his time, he really seemed fascinated with the ones that he had under his hands. Was he ever kneading and caressing them! I have extremely sensitive breasts, and I just can't begin to describe the kind of sensations that he was sending shooting through me by his hand action.
My nipples were of course the most sensitive parts. And he sure wasn't neglecting those! He took them between the thumb and forefinger and rubbed and pinched until the things swelled up to about twice their normal size. But instead of continuing the rubbing and pinching, he then trailed his fingertips all over the rest of the tits, so that the poor tantalized nipples that he'd gotten so worked up were just crying for some action. He'd circle his fingers in, slowly, while I waited for the sensation of his fingers on my pink nubs again, but after maybe rubbing the outer edge of the aureola, he would send the fingers sliding away again.
One of the secrets of making teasing and enjoyable things for the girl who's being teased-and it can be really exciting, like it was for me then-is to know when to stop, though. Just when I thought that I'd go out of my mind if he didn't give me some more nipple action, he took each one between his thumb and forefinger and started rubbing again.
Meanwhile, he was pounding away between my legs like some ramming piston. That stallion of his was really slamming back and forth and my cunt was clutching at it convulsively like it didn't ever want to let it go.
In! Out! In! Out!
Man oh man, was I ever hot!
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
"Ted! I've gotta come! I've gotta come!"
I think he could have easily made me come right then and there if he'd wanted to-he has fantastic control, when fucking-but he's such a good cocksman that he can really appreciate the difference between the phrase "I gotta come!" when it's gasped by a woman who just thinks she's got to come, and the same phrase from a woman who really does have to, or go out of her mind with come-need.
Mind you, I felt like I was getting pretty close to that second stage now, as he continued to stroke me with those wonderful vigorous strokes of his.
"Ted! Ted! Ted!"
He didn't answer, he just continued to slide back and forth inside my frantic womanhood!
Cock-in-cunt! Cock-in-cunt! Cock-in-cunt!
Building up ... building ... building....
My head was turning back and forth from side to side ... My face was covered with little beads of sweat ... Every nerve in my body felt like it had been tied in about a zillion knots....
In! Out! In! Out!
Ride 'em, cowboy, ride 'em!
My whole body felt numb now....I knew that I was right on the edge of my come, right on the fucking edge....
But man oh man, that stallion-brother of mine sure knew how to keep a woman right on the edge without going over, sure knew how to tease and torment that pussy of hers into and agonized, ecstatic tunnel of frantic female frenzy and delicious come-need!
"Just gotta!" I sobbed, and Ted could tell the difference now, could tell that this time I really, really meant it!
He pulled back out, really slow, and I could tell that he was going to bring me off with this stroke, could tell that he was completely confident that he'd be able to....
Back ... back ... back ... It was so totalizing to feel my inner space vacated like that, to feel him pull out in that fashion, that I'm kind of surprised that I didn't come right then and there.
Finally, everything was out but just the fleshy knob on the end of his prick. He waited one second, with both of us jangling like switchboards, and then back in he came!
Man, talk about a masterstroke!
So slow! So hard! So fucking fine!
I couldn't breathe, I couldn't think, I couldn't do anything but just "need to come".
One fourth in ... one third ... one half.
My muscles coiled for the blast, and I was really having to hold back now as best I could until he finished the stroke. It would be a shame to come in the middle of it when it felt so great!
Two thirds ... three fourths....
Just ... couldn't ... stand ... it....
IN!
WHAM! WHAM! WHAM! That was my pelvis, shuddering, heaving, trembling, coming!
"FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!" I gasped as I felt my female organ grip at the hard male thing that had invaded and possessed it, felt my whole body seem to explode in a wild, freaking, Fourth-of-July come-feast that had me just about to go out of my ever-lovin' mind!
Gush! Gush! Gush! He'd timed everything perfectly. The instant the top of that tool of his touched the entrance to my womb, I went off and he went off. Perfect synch! Two bodies, coming right together!
"AH! AH! AHHHHH!" I gasped.
Right together! Right together! Right together!
Cock! Cunt! Cock! Cunt! And he was still shooting, and my pussy was still convulsing, still spasming, still going wild with the outpouring of total femaleness, complete possessed, fucked, orgasming, spasming womanness!
Finally we were done. Done. Done. I don't think either of us could believe it. I couldn't believe that I was still alive. That had just been so, so....
"....outasight!" I gasped.
"Don't think that you're not, too, sis," he said with a smile, in between the deep pants and gasps he was making.
We didn't separate right away. He lay on top of me, with his prick inside me. It wasn't going soft, either, or at least it wasn't doing so very fast. I think that it could have almost have delivered at least some kind of a fuck right on top of the other one, if that's what we'd wanted. But both of us found it much nicer to just lie there holding each other tight, and breathing in time.
Finally, he eased his cock out of me, and we sat up and stared at each other. There was a look of real surprise in his eyes, and I bet that there was in mine, too. I mean, we really hardly knew what we'd done. It had all been so automatic, so natural, so unthinking.
"Gee, that was fun...." I said after a moment's pause.
"Sure was...."
Neither of us really knew what to say, but it seemed like we should say something.
"D-do you think that we should have?"
"I dunno," he replied, and then quickly added, "well, why not?"
"Most brothers and sisters don't fuck," I said.
"They just don't think of it," he replied.
I got something of the impression that he was trying to convince himself as much as me.
"Maybe not...."
I wasn't at all sure what I thought about what we'd just done, but I didn't want to sound critical or condemnatory. After all, I was as responsible for it as he was.
"Let's have lunch," he said.
I guess he wanted to take my mind off of worrying about the fact that I'd had my brother's cock exploring in my cunt only a little while before.
In fact, we were both pretty hungry after that fuck, and we tucked into the sandwiches eagerly.
"You know, sis," he said, "I don't think there's anything wrong about what we did."
"Maybe not...."
"I mean, we turned each other on, that's all."
"But we are brother and sister...."
"So, that just means that we get on well together. It's not that I'm trying to be your boyfriend or anything. It's just that we can have a lot of fun in the sack."
"You think we should do it some more?" I asked. I really honestly didn't know. All the upbringing and everything that I'd ever had suggested that we shouldn't, but the sight of that naked body of his and the memory of what a fantastic fuck we had just had together said the opposite.
"I guess we could always force ourselves to abstain," he said.
I glanced down at his prick, and I could see that there was no way he could pretend to himself that he wasn't turned on by me and that he wouldn't have to force himself to keep his hands off of me if that was what we decided.
His cock had never really softened up in my cunt, like I said, Doctor, and it had already gotten a good deal harder in the last few minutes than it had been when he had finally pulled it out of my weltering cunt.
I like cock as much as the next girl, and so you can guess what the sight of that hard rod did for my pussy. It started to lubricate up all over again. I felt my clit start to stiffen, too, and my nipples budded again.
I tried turning my eyes away, but that didn't help much.
"Gee, sis," he said, "I guess that we can always keep from looking at each other, and stuff like that, but if we do all that because we know what it is that we really want, what's the difference?"
"I guess you are right...."
I was a bit like a dieter who's being encouraged to have some dessert after all. That cock of his looked really fine to me, and though I felt that maybe I should be making objections to his using it on me, I knew that that was just exactly what I wanted back in my cunt or in my mouth.
My mouth! I licked my lips as the thought occurred to me. I'm a pretty oral sort of girl, and the thought of sucking on that big whanger until it exploded and sent its loads of jism shooting up into my twat was really too much for me to resist.
Ted saw my tongue flick unconsciously out of my mouth and lick the lips.
"Yeah, I bet you would find it tasted good," he said. "And I sure know something that I'd like to get my mouth on!
My already stiff little clit gave an extra tingle at the thought of having Ted's tongue slurping all over it. I could feel my pussy-fluid actually drip out of my cunt onto the grass.
"Look, sis," he said, "I sort of see what you mean with your objections. And I'm not too sure where my own head's at in regard to the right-and-wrong part of all this....
"You don't know where your head's at," I said with a smile, "but you know where you'd like your cock to be, right?"
"Right!"
"Shall we get back to work?"
"What I was going to say, you oversexed little creature, is that maybe we should give one try at keeping our hands off of each other. Let's go in for a swim, and maybe the water'll keep us cool. If not, then we'll know that we're just fated to fuck, and that'll be that."
"Our karma."
"Our karma. But no splashing!"
I laughed, and ran into the water. He followed, and I guess for maybe about two minutes we made a serious effort to keep our hands off of one another. But then, Ted said, "you remember how I used to swim under water?"
"Uh huh."
"Well, here I go!" He did a duck dive out of sight, and of course, where did he swim but over to my cunt. As I stood there in the water, I felt him press his lips against the labia.
He stayed down for quite a long time, too, I guess as far as he was concerned, breathing was a lot less important than getting to kiss my vagina!
"Far out!" I said, as he surfaced, spluttering. We both knew what we wanted to do, and it was a relief to have that decided. I feel really pretty guilty about the whole incest trip now, but funnily enough at the time I really just felt excited. like I say, Ted and I have always been really close, and it was as if fucking together were just an extension of talking or taking walks together.
No sooner did Ted appear on the surface than I dived down. His cock was right there in front of me, hard as a board and sticking straight up. It bobbed slightly with the disturbance in the water that my duck-dive had made.
The bobbing just made it seem all the nicer. I swam up to it and kissed it, while fondling the balls. I was starting to run out of air, but I sure didn't mind that. I placed my lips over the rod and began to suck, almost as if I were breathing.
The feel of the rod between my lips was really enough to make my clit tingle like a fire bell. I could just imagine my pussy fluid oozing out of my cunt to mingle with the muddy water of Foster's Pond.
I finally had to surface, and was gasping and spluttering just like Ted had been.
"Whoo boy, sis, you stayed down a long time. I was starting to get worried. Or I would have, if something hadn't been telling me all the while that you were still alive down there!"
The "something", of course, was my vigorous mouth action on that prick of his!
"That is a lot of fun," he added, "but let's go on shore where we'll be more in our element!"
If he was out of his element, his hand sure didn't know it! It was cupping my crotch and feeling it up in the most wonderfully exciting way imaginable! My clit was throbbing, my labia aching, and my cunt giving empty little contractions, as if it knew that there should be something inside it.
In a second, there was something inside it! Three of Ted's fingers, which he'd wormed up into my womanhood. He sure knew how to use them, too. He pressed them apart, so that they applied pressure to three parts of the inside of my twat at once. And while they were doing that, his thumb was giving wonderful little flicks to my labia and clit!
We walked to shore like that, with his fingers still inside my pussy applying pressure to it. It made walking a bit tricky, but I sure as hell didn't mind. Of course, I had one of my hands wrapped around his prick and was giving it loving little squeezes which it reciprocated by swelling up a little bit each time, though the first time I put my hand on it I assumed that it was as big as a human prick could possibly get!
We were both pretty glad to get to dry land, however, since the preliminaries were just driving us out of our minds. Appetizers are fine, but eventually you want to get on to the entree, which for me was going to be a nice hard dick, and for him, my soft, wet vagina!
"Sixty-nine?" I asked.
"Uh huh."
We plopped down on the grass, and I lay on my side, ready to receive the attentions of his tongue.
First, though, he got a towel and toweled my cunt dry.
"Why're you doing that?" I asked. Not that I minded having your cunt toweled by a groovy guy you're going to have sex with is really pretty neat.
"I like pussy fluid."
"So?"
"So if I didn't dry you first with the towel, I wouldn't have any way of knowing whether the moisture I was getting was pond water or your sweet cunt-dringle."
"You could tell by taste!"
"It'd be mixed. like a whisky and soda. I like my pussy juice straight."
I laughed.
"On the rocks?" I asked. "On the labia!"
by this time I was frankly just about to go nuts with come-need. I mean, first the underwater bit, then the toweling, and now all this wisecracking without my cunt getting any of the action that it craved from his tongue.
"Stop being funny and put your tongue to the use it was designed for," I said.
As far as I'm concerned, having a guy eat you out is so neat that I can't really believe that talking is what tongues are really for. It's obvious that they're all soft and wide so that they can make girls' pussies happy.
"Fine by me," he said, and lay down beside me.
For a moment, though, impatient though both of us were to get on with the sixty-nine, we just looked at each other's equipment.
He certainly had a cock that was worth looking at, too! It was about six and a half inches long, and really thick. That's why I felt so wonderfully stuffed and possessed when he had given me the first fuck a number of minutes before.
The knob was a sort of reddish color, and really big and fleshy looking. Just the kind of lollipop that a girl-likes to get her lips around!
The balls were nice too. I could see that when they hung loose they must really hang low, but now they were pulled up really tight against the rot of his prick. It was obvious that they were just aching for a chance to shoot their load off into my mouth. I suspected that even though Ted had already come, and that not so long before, he probably still had plenty of stuff left for my mouth. And I sure intended to find out.
I could feel Ted's breath on my cunt, and I could hear him sniffing away, too.
"like what you smell?" I asked him.
"You better believe it!"
"But Madison Avenue is always telling us girls that our pussies shouldn't smell, or if they do, they should smell like pine forests, or something like that."
"Sis, I swear, if you ever use one of those dumb sprays on this sweet little cunt of yours, I'll be so pissed! Besides, you look so tender down here, I'm sure it would irritate you."
"You say you like pussy smell?"
"There isn't a guy alive who doesn't have his head up his ass who doesn't like pussy smell. The richer and more female, the better. I mean, what's so great about pussy? The fact that it's female! So it should have plenty of good female musk!"
"All this talk about my pussy's making me pretty hot!"
His only answer to that was to pass directly from words to action. Without saying anything more, he just gave my twat the most loving lick that it's possible to imagine.
SLURP!
Kenny, my ex-boyfriend, was pretty good at cuntlapping, but the difference in what I was getting from him and from Ted was like the difference between a violin being played by a member of the strings section of the orchestra or Yehudi Menuhin.
"Mmmmmm," I said, and that was the last thing that I was going to be saying for quite a while, because my mouth was going to be busy with other things!
Or more particularly, with one other thing, one hard, long, thick other thing!
I didn't just take it in my mouth and start sucking on it right away, though. I figured that someone like my brother deserved a more imaginative performance than that, and besides, I wanted to show him that I knew a thing or two about sex too!
I started out by kissing it up and down the length of the shaft. Tender little nibbling kisses that made his rod seem to swell up even more than its massive size. And something about the licks that my cunt was getting seemed to transmit to me the excitement that my kisses were giving to him.
Then, I began to kiss and suck on his balls. I took the things inside my mouth and really sucked, too, while his whole body seemed to tense and stiffen. While I did that, I had one of my hands on his shaft, stroking it lightly as if to assure it that it wasn't going to be left out of the picture for long.
Ball-sucking and prick-stroking are all very well, but man, there's no substitute on earth for actually having the rod inside your mouth! I couldn't wait much longer for that, and I figured that he probably couldn't either.
So, I slipped my mouth off of his balls and slid it over his tool.
First I just sucked on the knob, but after that I slid it all the way down to the base of his prick.
Wow! His rod was so huge, and so long, that the tip of it was pressing way, way back against the back of my mouth. That made breathing a bit difficult, but when in exchange you're getting a groovy sensation like that of having your whole mouth totally filled with hard, virile prick, who cares about something unimportant like breathing?
I slipped my lips up and down along the shaft quickly, as if to create the sensations that he would be getting if he were ramming his cock home in my vagina! Then, to vary the pace, I moved the lips back up to the place where the knob joined the shaft, and started sucking there.
Wow! A real shudder went through his whole body as I did that and I was able to guess that on Ted, at any rate, that was really a supersensitive spot.
So I sucked away like crazy there, while continuing to finger his balls.
Slurp! Slurp! Slurp! He sure wasn't letting any grass grow under his tongue, that was for sure! That wet thing of his was sliding over every possible part of my even wetter cunt, and was I ever loving it! He obviously knew from experience with other girls just where every little nook and cranny was, and which ones were the most sensitive, and the result was that he was giving me a tongue job that just about had me going out of my mind!
He started off with three good licks on the clit. Seeing as my clit had been almost literally throbbing before we began the sixty-nine, you can guess what the effect on it was of feeling his tongue slurp all over it! In fact, I thought that I was going to come right then and there, but I didn't. like I said, Ted is a guy who's totally in control when he fucks or sixty-nines, and somehow, don't ask me how, he's able to just exactly judge how much stimulation a girl can take before her pussy goes over the top.
And then he gives her almost that much stimulation, but not quite, so she's hanging right on the brink of her come, and dying to get off, but can't quite get off. And the way he does that sort of tantalization, the girls loving every second of it!
After licking my clit three times, he sensed that he'd better give me a chance to cool off if he didn't want me coming too soon. So he sent his tongue on a sort of leisurely cruise along my outer lips. They're hardly sensitive at all, but I was so supercharged from the tonguing that my clit had gotten that it was still quite a turn-on for me to feel his tongue browsing through the sparse hairs there.
All the while, by the way, he was sniffing really loudly. I'm sure he was really enjoying my female odors, like he said, but I also think that he was sniffing a little bit more loudly than he had to, in the belief that hearing him would make me feel a lot more female, and hence really turned on! And he was dead right!
After dallying around on my outer labia for a while, he sensed in that mysterious way of his that the rest of my twat had probably cooled down enough for him to go back to work there without me instantly coming. He was smart enough to stay away from my eager clit for the time being, though, since he knew that if he so much as breathed too hard on that throbbing little button, I'd probably go shuddering off right away into the come to end all comes.
He slurped his tongue back and forth on my labia a bit, and then sent it sliding down into my box.
Man! You can't imagine what it was like for me to feel that thing there inside me! I say "can't imagine" because I assume that a guy just doesn't have any way of appreciating what a luscious feeling it is for your body to be filled up by part of the body of someone that you loved.
And on top of the turn-on associated with simply having a tongue inside me, there was the extra bonus that this was Ted's tongue.
In other words, it was a very, very well educated tongue! It pressed against my cunt-walls in the most wild fashion, it slid back and forth on my copious female lubricant, and then suddenly-slooooop! Back into his mouth he pulled it, with a really rapid motion which was a neat little thrill for my cunt-lining, but which was intended more than anything else, I think, to get as much of my pussy fluid into his mouth as was possible.
You see, when he licked me down there between the legs, it wasn't just a question of ordinary licks! I mean, he was actually lapping at me, like a cat laps at a bowl of milk! As far as he was concerned, that salty pussy-fluid of mine was better than any cream.
I was going to get my cream too, but I was going to have to wait a bit longer for it. Well, I didn't mind that, since the feel of his cock resting in my mouth, waiting to fire its load, was almost better than anything else could be anyway.
I was giving it all sorts of different action, to make sure that it didn't get bored with my mouth. I'd suck the base, I'd suck the knob, I'd press my tongue against the piss-hole, I'd even take my mouth off it entirely for a second or two so as to tease it. I never did that for long, though, mainly because I couldn't bear to do without the feel of that rampant male hardness there inside my mouth!
I could tell from the feel of the thing that it was getting ready to shoot. I didn't have quite the same sense of timing or control that my brother did, but I knew that that wouldn't be much of a problem, since I was sure that Ted would be able to bring me off any time he wanted to. So all I had to do was prolong things as long as I wanted, and then, when he felt like he was about to blast, he'd do whatever was necessary to get me off too! It would be really nice to come together, and it was fine to not have to feel any responsibility about arranging things that way.
Suck! Suck! Suck! I just couldn't imagine how that rod of his could hold back much longer, because every suck of mine brought forth a little quiver of delight.
Slurp! slurp! slurp! That was his tongue, sliding back and forth over my cunt.
I knew that I didn't have long to wait, not long at all....
My muscles were tensing, my back arching, and still he continued to tongue my body!
I felt his cock give a funny little stiffening, and I knew from experience with Kenny that that meant that it was getting ready to come.
I pressed my lips hard against it and slid them all the way down.
Splat! Something wet and warm hit the back of my mouth!
Splat! Splat! Splat! He was coming! He was coming! Shooting his mancream into me in long, hard gushes!
And I was coming too, coming really frantically, really hard! At just the same instant that he felt his cock give that final little stiffening, he pressed the tip of his tongue against my clit and really rubbed. He timed it exactly. The moment the first gob of spunk was hitting the back of my mouth, I felt myself shudder off into my come.
Man oh man, was I ever going at it, too! My pelvis literally slammed against his face as all my pent-up female energy tore loose at once. But he didn't mind the feel of my soggy feminine flesh hitting his face. He just rode with the motion, so to speak, keeping his lips glued to my labia in a sort of kiss. It was really wild, really, really wild!
Shooting! He was just shooting and shooting and shooting, as if he hadn't had a come in a year. In fact, he'd gotten his rocks off inside my pussy barely twenty minutes before, but that didn't seem to matter. Judging from the amount of mancream that was pouring into my mouth, I would have thought that he had four balls if I hadn't known better!
The stuff was everywhere! Trickling down my throat, in between my teeth and my cheeks, under my tongue, everywhere, and he just kept gushing until I didn't see how my mouth could hold much more.
Coming hard! coming fast! coming fine! Jus. coming, and coming, and coming, two frantic creatures pouring their souls out in a frantic, spasmodic, total come-in!
Everything reached its end at last, I guess, and so finally his prick stopped shooting, and my pelvis stopped bucking and heaving against his face. That didn't mean that we accepted the wonderful experience as over, not for the time being, anyway. By that I mean that he continued to lick at my agonized twat, and my lips continued to suck on his still-hard cock. And both of us were rewarded for our efforts, too. I did manage to squeeze a bit more jism out of his rod, and I certainly know that those licks down there between my legs were keeping me plenty wet.
I finally pulled my lips off of his rod, however, more because I wanted to swallow his spunk than because I was tired of having his cock inside me. I'm not exaggerating when I say that I couldn't swallow with it in. It was so big that the tip of it was pressing against the back of my mouth, like I said, and I really think that that would have inhibited my swallowing anything.
So, I eased my lips off, taking special care not to spill any of his spunk. I wasn't completely successful there, however, since there was just so much of the luscious, thick stuff in my mouth that I couldn't help a bit of it dribbling out between my lips and trickling down my chin. That was kind of fun, though.
He took his face off of my cunt and sat up. Looking at him, I would have laughed, if I hadn't had my mouth full. His whole face was glistening wet with my slick cunt-juices. He really looked kind of odd that way. The smile on his face told me just exactly how much he liked having my vagina-lubricant all over him, however.
I went over to him and opened my mouth slightly, so that he could see how much sperm he had shot into my mouth. That caused a bit more of the stuff to slide down my chin, but heck, that just heightened the effect that I wanted to create, namely that he had completely filled me with his male fluid.
He smiled, and I think he was rather proud of the amount that he had still had left for a second shot. Then I gulped the stuff down, feeling a tingle of pressure shoot through my cunt and up my spine as the sperm glided down my throat. It tasted sort of salty and completely wonderful.
That was all the fucking we had time for that day, though believe me, we were so turned on by the whole experience that I'm sure we could have managed another come each without any trouble. Ted has one of those rods that looks like it can go on getting stiff forever, and as a matter-of-fact, I've found out subsequently that that's really almost true. I mean, there've been plenty of times that we've had three comes per session without him being any softer on the third one than on the first two.
So you'd think I'd count myself lucky, I guess, having such a wonderful stud as a fucking partner, and believe me, if he weren't my brother, I would regard myself as the happiest girl in the world. But he is my brother, and for some reason or another it sort of craps everything up.
It didn't at first, let me assure you of that. For the first couple of weeks or so, we just fucked away, regarding it as all sort of a game. After all, when we were kids, we'd used to wrestle and do things like that, and as Ted put it, "this is big kids' wrestling!"
But after that, I began to feel more and more depressed. It was a while before I associated it with the incest. It wasn't as if I kept saying to myself, "God, look what you've been doing!" I just felt more and more down, like I had after being dumped by Kenny but before starting to fuck with Ted, because at first fucking with Ted had really bucked me up.
The more depressed I got, though, the more I realized what the cause must be. And at the same time, I just couldn't stop.
I guess it must be the same way with people who smoke. They know that they shouldn't, but the thought of a cigarette, and how good it would taste, just makes them lose all self control. Well, with me, the thought of that cock of my brother's, and how good it would taste, or how good it would feel in my pussy, shooting its load of cream deep, deep into my womanhood, is enough to make me lose all self-control.
So anyway, Doctor, that's the way things stand, and if you can do anything to make me stop craving my brother's hard dick, don't think that I wouldn't be grateful!
Heidi T.'s case is a good one with which to start off the present study of incest, because it has many of what one might call the "classic" features of incestuous activity.
The first is simple sexual deprivation. One of the foremost reasons that any penis ends up in a vagina (with the vagina wanting it there) is the mere fact of physical need. And of course, this should hardly surprise us. In addition to this is the element of personal closeness and fondness. As Masters puts it, "there are 'offenders' who simply find one another attractive." (1)
It would be a mistake to think that that is all that is involved here, however, for incest, like most sexual phenomena, is very complicated. It is natural enough for a boy and girl to feel attracted
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1. Masters, op. cit., p. 82
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to one another, even if they are brother and sister, and it is certainly not uncommon for this desire to be given physical expression in a moment of passion or abandon. That is certainly what seems to be the case here, with the games in the swimming hole leading to consummated sex. But in fact, the incest was unconsciously prepared way in advance.
It is possible that the forgetting of the swimming suits was a genuine accident, though I am inclined to think here of how Freud "accidentally" broke an inkstand which someone had given him and which he had hated for years. At first he thought that it really was an accident, but the more he reflected on the near misses the inkstand had had in the past, the more inclined he was to regard the incident as an "accident on purpose", a term that is now well known among psychologists.
Even if the forgetting of the suits was an accident of the most genuine sort, it is hard not to see the other events-the way in which Heidi ran to shore, etc.-as all being part of a subconscious desire for incestuous activity to take place. A teenage boy and girl who go swimming in the nude together must at least subconsciously have a pretty good idea of what's going to follow.
Does all this mean that there is any real emotional disturbance involved, anything requiring therapy? Certainly the depression indicates that some kind of help is needed, but it is not immediately clear in this case to what degree the depression is a primary or a secondary disorder.
It is well known that brother-sister incest is probably the most common kind (l), and Masters, at any rate, has said if incest between sibling fails to occur, this is often "not because it is undesired, but because neither has the courage to reveal the desire to the other. Not desire but communication of desire is inhibited." (2) Here, Heidi and Ted take care of that problem through the elaborate series of accidents that lead up to the consummation of the act.
If after an incestuous fling Heidi had gone back to having sex with someone else besides her brother, one would be inclined to see her as a girl who needed to have her guilt dealt with in therapy, but who was basically in pretty sound shape emotionally. But Ted became Heidi's sole source of sexual activity, and it is interesting that when she speaks of her hunger for his "hard prick", it is almost as if that is the only prick in the world, as far as she is concerned.
The question to be answered there is whether she limited her sexual activity because of basic fears of males who lack the familiar quality of a brother, or because she felt she was no longer worthy of anyone else, now that she had allowed herself to be defiled by incest.
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1. Coleman, James C, Abnormal Psychology and Modern Life, Chicago 1956
2. Masters, op. cit., p. 65
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Psychology is rarely a straight either/or proposition. In therapy, it became obvious that both i these factors were at work, and so both had to I be dealt with. She had to be ridded of her need to make the "safe" choice of her brother (therapy I revealed that one reason she broke up with Kenny I was because he made her nervous, and this apparently made him feel sexually inadequate), while at the same time convinced that there was r no reason for her to feel guilty about her incestuous involvement with Ted.
Neither of these was very difficult tasks, and Heidi soon found her able to relate to other boys in a way that she had previously only been able to manage with Ted. The two of them still have sex together from time to time, but purely as an adjunct to sex with others. (Ted had always maintained other girlfriends, even during the most intense period of involvement with his sister.)
CASE HISTORY TWO
Joe B. was a big man, a steelworker in his late thirties, and though he looked a bit nervous, perhaps because of the newness of the surroundings, he didn't seem convulsed with guilt like little Heidi T. had been at the beginning of my first session with her.
"I know that this sounds kind of funny, Doctor, but I'm here because there's something I want to do really badly, but which seems kind of funny the more I think about it."
"What's that?" I asked.
"I'd like to leave my wife and live with my teenage daughter Judy. My wife Edna doesn't like her daughter, so I'm sure she'd give me custody."
"And what's your problem?"
"Well," he said, "I fuck with my daughter." There wasn't any real embarrassment in his voice as he said that. He looked closely at me, to gauge my reaction.
When he saw that I wasn't shocked, he said, "do many guys fuck with their daughters?"
"Lots," I said, with complete truthfulness.
"So there's nothing wrong with my idea?" he said. It was as if he wanted to get a sort of seal of approval on what he intended before carrying it out.
"Well, that depends, as you yourself must have sensed before coming here, since otherwise you would have simply done what you wanted."
"Depends on what?" he asked.
"Well, incestuous relationships can have a very positive quality to them in certain circumstances," I said. "Then again, in other circumstances, they can be very exploitative."
"And you think that I might be exploiting my daughter?" he asked. Something about his voice indicated that he had worried about much the same possibility, which indicated that he was probably a fairly good father. Real exploiters don't usually care about what they're doing.
"I have no idea, because I don't yet know anything about your case," I said. "I think you'd feel a lot easier in your own mind about this if you discussed it fully with me, and we together explored the details of how you feel towards your daughter."
"And if you don't think that I'm exploiting her, it'd be all right for me to live with her and fuck her?"
"I'm not in the business of making moral judgments," I said. "All I can do is help you discover your own feelings, and suggest to you ways in which you might want to change them. The rest is a matter for you to decide."
"What sort of feelings do you think you might find?" he asked. One of the biggest problems that a therapist faces is, of course, that many patients are very afraid of finding out what their feelings are.
"Well," I said, "when people engage in incestuous activities, or any other somewhat unusual activities of a sexual nature, it is usually because of various underlying emotional problems. Frustrations, things like that. Whether or not the patient wants the incest to continue-and as far as I'm concerned, that's his affair-he is usually happier if these underlying difficulties are cleared up. But before you could make any decision about what you might want out of therapy, or whether you want therapy at all, you'll have to let me have all the facts."
"Okay," he said....
My wife Edna's a real battle ax, and she hates sex with a passion. Once a week is all the fucking I get from her, and then it's no treat, believe me. She lies there like a corpse, and doesn't even pretend to like what I'm giving her. The ungrateful bitch! Shit, there are plenty of women who'd give their eye teeth to have a husband with a good strong prick like mine! Judy sure liked it!
Now Judy's something else. She's fifteen, and she has about the sexiest little body I've ever seen on a female. A really high, nice ass, and tits that aren't too big, but are really firm. Not that they don't jiggle a bit when she walks. Man, I think from when she was about thirteen on,, she used to walk around with her tits jiggling, and don't think I didn't get a hard on right away every time I saw those little globes go bouncing by.
Even when she wears a bra they jiggle, and when they don't, wow! Now when this no-bra look for girls came in a while back, she wanted to go without a bra. I expected her mother to really put up a row about that, seeing as she's so down on sex and all, but she just shrugged her shoulders and said, "some people like the oddest things!"
Of course, that meant that Judy turned around, went straight to her room and took her bra off. When Edna says something in that kind of resigned way, it's supposed to make you feel guilty about whatever it is that provoked that, but Judy's never fallen for that. She and her mother don't really get on very well, as you can maybe imagine.
Well a couple of months ago, I was sitting around watching TV and feeling really horny. I just was dying to get my rocks off, but I knew that there wasn't a chance in hell of my managing to do so. Even if Edna'd been there, she'd have probably refused, and as it happened she was out of town visiting her sister, who's even more of a harpy than she is.
You may wonder why I just didn't go out and pick up a bit of tail on my own. The trouble was that it'd been so long that I was kind of out of practice. Normally, Edna really gives me hell if I try and go out on my own. So I didn't really know where I could go to pick up some ass, and I wasn't sure what I'd say if I met a sexy-looking girl.
Of course, there was always the red light district, but even though I earn good wages, with the payments on the house and car and everything, there isn't an awful lot left over, and what there is, Edna watches over like a hawk. She has this big thing about "security", and how you should have something laid away for a rainy day. Shit, I would have given all the fucking security in the world for a chance to lay my cock away in some soft wet pussy! But I knew that Edna would be sure to miss the fifteen or twenty bucks that that would cost, and then she'd give me hell, of course.
What made things even worse was the fact that I was watching the Miss America contest on television. Seeing all that high-class ass there on the screen really had my cock rammed up hard against the crotch of my pants. What I wouldn't have given to whip it out and ram it up the pussy of one of the pretty girls up there on the stage.
"Gee dad, you look lonely," Judy said to me. She'd just walked up silently behind me and was leaning over my shoulder.
She wasn't wearing anything but a bathrobe, and that meant that her tits were almost hanging in my face. They were still covered by the cloth of the bathrobe, but that didn't mean that I couldn't imagine what they'd be like naked
"I just feel horny, I guess," I said.
"Poor daddy, neglected by mom like that," she said, and stroked my forehead with those long, slender fingers of hers.
Shit! You'd better believe that my cock really almost burst right through my pants when I felt her touch me like that. I mean, her goddam tits were almost hanging in my face, and I could smell her perfume. It wasn't just store-bought perfume, too. There was a kind of woman-smell too, on top of that, which really had me cranked up.
"Well," she said in a low voice, "I've got to go take my bath."
She sauntered off with that kind of sexy walk she has, her round little ass bobbing and her tits jiggling. I heard the bathwater running while I tried to think about the television show.
The reason I was trying to think about that was that I knew that if I didn't keep my mind off of Judy, I'd be in there raping her in the bath, probably. I mean, the sound of that bathwater running made me think of how she was lying there in the warm water. I could just imagine the water sloshing around her pussy as she moved in the tub. Then she'd probably get soap on her hands and soap it up. I thought about her hand moving back and forth over the dainty labia, getting it all sudsy. I'd never seen her labia, but I certainly imagined that they were dainty. After all, everything else about her was just incredibly fine!
Then maybe she'd start soaping up her breasts too. The thing was that she was such a sensuous little piece, that I didn't imagine with her a bath would just be a matter of getting clean. I mean, with Edna, a bath would be a bath. But when Judy soaped up her cunt, for instance, I bet she soaped her clit and labia up a lot more than they needed, so that she could feel her soapy hand running back and forth over the delicate woman-flesh! The same was true with her tits too, I imagined. I could just see how while soaping them, she'd sort of push them from side to side, or maybe press them against her body. She might even take hold of a nipple and use it to pull the whole tit away from her body, before letting go so that it could flop back again.
Of course, all these things were things that I really wanted to do myself. I could just imagine what it would be like if I were in there soaping her. In fact, I even had the crazy idea that it might be great to work as a woman-soaper, sort of like a valet.
My prick was just about to burst, too. I wasn't even looking at the television screen now. All my efforts to keep my mind off of my daughter's sexy little body had failed. I just wanted to sit back and think about how lovely she must look in the tub.
My hand reached down to my crotch and started feeling my cock up through the cloth. I beat off quite a lot, as you can imagine, seeing what a dud of a wife I've got. Anyway, I was just about to go on into my bedroom where I could pull off my pants and really get to work, when Judy came on out of the bathroom.
"How's the show, daddy?" she asked, leaning over the back of the chair again. Her tits hung away from her chest this time too, but this time it seemed like the bathrobe wasn't done up so tightly, and I could get more of a glimpse of her right tit as I turned my head to answer.
But I didn't answer. My mouth wanted to do something else instead, and I guess that it just sort of took over. What happened was that I suddenly pushed the edges of her bathrobe back so that her cute tits flopped out into the open. Then, I took the right nipple in my mouth and started sucking.
I would have expected that the nipple would have been soft, I guess, except that I was not in any kind of state to think or expect anything. Anyway, it was fully swollen up and hard, and you'd better believe that I nearly creamed in my pants the moment I had it in my mouth where I could give it the kind of action I'd be longing to give ever since Judy stopped being a little girl.
like I said, Doc, I wasn't in any kind of state to think about anything. It was just a spontaneous kind of action. And that's why I guess I wasn't surprised at Judy's reaction. You'd think that if a girl's dad took her nipple in his mouth and started sucking, she'd be shocked and pull away. Or at least, that she'd be surprised, and give a little gasp of amazement. But that wasn't the case with Judy at all! She just moved around to the front of the chair, leaning over so that I could keep my mouth on her nipple. Then, she sat on the end of the chair, and started to stroke my crotch.
Man! I still don't know why I didn't go off right then. I guess my cock was smart enough to figure that there was something even nicer in store for it if it could manage to hold on a bit longer.
"Go on, suck, daddy, suck my tit," she said softly. "I know that mom never lets you do that!"
That shows how perceptive she was. She'd never seen me and Edna fuck, of course, but she knew her mother's personality well enough to guess that Edna would never allow me to suck her tits.
While she said this, she pulled her bathrobe the rest of the way back, so that her pubic bush was revealed, as well as her long, luscious legs. My hands shot out to caress her down there. I cupped her crotch with my right hand and pressed the fingers against the tender labia. I say tender because I could feel a little shiver run through her pelvis as I pressed my fingers against her there.
I wormed one of my fingers into her pussy, while continuing to suck. Meanwhile, I felt her unzip my crotch. I say "felt" her unzip my crotch because the moment it was unzipped, I sure could feel that rod of mine punch out against the fabric of my underpants. It needed more freedom than that, but it was still a terrific relief after the confinement that it had been in.
Besides, it didn't have long to wait for complete liberty. Judy pulled down my underpants, and my penis zinged out to its full length.
"Mhhh, what a luscious long prick daddy has," she said. "How about showing my cunt how long and hard it is?"
That was fine by me, and I got up from the chair, cradling her body in my arms. I lowered her to the floor, and then I got on top of her.
I struggled the rest of the way out of my pants, and then positioned myself on top of her.
Man! Here I was, about to fuck my eager little daughter. After all these years of wanting to do just exactly that, I was now going to get a chance to. And just as important, I was now going to get a decent fuck for the first time in heaven only knows how long.
The thought was so wonderful that I hesitated for a second with the tip of my prick resting against my daughter's cunt lips. Then, I shoved my rod on in.
As my cock slid in, I felt it give that sort of funny stiffening that you get before you come. I didn't want to come right then and make my daughter think that I couldn't control myself, however, and so I took a very deep breath and kind of relaxed the muscles in my legs. I don't know if that works for other guys, but for me, at any rate, that's a good way of cooling off a bit in the prick department.
Not that my tool wasn't still plenty eager and plenty hot. But at least now I'd be able to give my daughter's sweet little pussy a good bang before coming.
Now that I was a bit more sure of myself, I started bucking slowly back and forth inside her cunt.
Slowly, because I think that with a good fuck, you should vary the speed to keep things from getting boring. You should start off nice and easy, so as to get the girl good and anxious for what's coming, and then you should go faster and faster until you're both coming frantically together.
Well, Judy was pretty anxious for my prick already, and I have to admit that I was too turned on to be able to keep the slow and steady routine up for long. In fact, it wasn't long before I was laying it into her with really frantic strokes of my superrigid dork, and she was gasping and panting like she couldn't possibly hold out another second.
I'm pretty good at keeping females hanging on the edges of their comes, or at least I was before I married Edna, who never comes at all. I was glad to see that I hadn't lost my touch. In! Out! In! Out!
Doc, you just can't believe what it was like to be working a responsive cunt again!
In! Out! In! Out! And when I say responsive, I mean that that little twat of hers was really begging for action. She was sort of wriggling her hips, and letting out all sorts of little feminine squeaks and groans as I laid it into her with firm, hard strokes.
"Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!" she panted.
"Daddy'll make you come!" I said as I continued to slam my man-meat into her feminine hole!
She was arching her back now, and her head was tossing from side to side. There were little beads of sweat all over her forehead, too. It was obvious that this wasn't any kind of an act.
In! Out! In! Out! Now that I had really gotten into the swing of things, now that my memories were coming back of the responsive cunts that I had enjoyed before I got married, my cock was a little better under control. It was as if it understood that it didn't have to get its load off right away. This twat, unlike Edna's wasn't going to mind how long the prick stayed in it.
Buck! Buck! Buck! I was really working her up, I really had her hanging there, and I was kind of proud of the way in which I was keeping her right on the brink. I know enough about women to be able to judge the kind that really like to have their mainsprings wound up, and it was pretty obvious to me that if ever there was a girl who was made for fucking, it was Judy.
Here I was, right on the brink myself, though, and still somehow I managed to hang on. This was torment for both of us, but it was a nice kind of torment that we both wanted to go on and on and on.
Then, suddenly I felt my cock stiffen up, and I knew that I was just about to shoot. In! Out! In! Out! "Daddy!"
I gave one final thrust, sending my rod way, way home, and just as the root of it hit her labia, I felt my balls send their load of cream gushing up the length of my dork.
Gush! gush! Gush! My cock was really firing, really unwinding, really giving that little twat everything that it wanted, and no wonder. It was the first decent twat that it had had in ages.
The feel of my rod trembling inside her little body was all that was necessary to bring Judy off. Even as my rod gushed its load into her, I felt her twat contracting spasmodically around my shaft, and I felt her pelvis try and buck under my wait.
Coming! Man, was she ever coming! I heard her give a long sort of moan as the shock of her come tore through me, and don't think my penis wasn't sensitive to the earthquake that it was causing there between her legs.
Man! It seemed like things were going to go on forever, but finally I gave a last little spurt, and her cunt quieted down, too:
I pulled my rod out and looked at it. I was amazed that the poor neglected thing was still capable of giving and receiving so much pleasure after the years of neglect that it had been subjected to by Edna!
"Daddy, you're so wonderful!" Judy said, as she clasped her arms around my neck.
"I'm glad you liked it, Judy. I'm sorry I got carried away like that when you were talking to me, but I was just feeling so goddam horny,"
"Don't apologize, daddy, don't!" she said. "It was just wonderful. To tell you the truth, I've never had a come anywhere like that before from any of the boys at school!"
I had known that she wasn't a virgin from the moment that I first rammed my prick into her and found that her twat wasn't obstructed. But I hadn't realized that I was going to give her what was apparently the best fuck she'd ever had. I tell you, it made my cock give a little twinge of pride to know that it could still measure up to the pricks of teenage boys.
"Since you're a big girl now," I said to her, "maybe you should have a drink."
Edna was really strict about liquor, always nagging me not to drink too much, and not letting Judy ever have any. I knew perfectly well that a girl Judy's age would be getting liquor on the side from her friends, but I never could convince Edna of this. Well, now Edna was away, and for once I ruled the roost.
That seemed to really delight Judy, to know that she was going to be allowed to drink openly with me, as if she were a grown up woman (which, of course, she was, from a physical standpoint) .
"I don't know about how this can be managed when your mother gets back," I said, pouring her a whisky, "so I guess I'd better give you a big one that you can enjoy now."
"Don't even think of her!" Judy said, with a real note of disgust in her voice. I'd always known that there was no love lost between her and her mother, but I was a bit surprised by the hostility in her tone of voice.
"Judy, you shouldn't be disrespectful of your mother," I said gently.
"Yes daddy," she said with a shrug of her shoulders that indicated how completely unreasonable she thought that that was.
We sat there on the sofa drinking, but as time went on, we were doing less and less drinking, and more and more feeling up of each other. I think that she was the one who started it, reaching out suddenly and grabbing my semierect prick (which became a lot less semi at just that instant!). I "retaliated" by taking her right nipple in my grip and pressing lightly, so that the thing swelled up quickly. It was pretty obvious that she was easily turned on there. Of course, it was a real turn-on for me to see her nipples react like that. I've always been kind of a breast man, Doctor, and to tell the truth, the rosy nipples of my daughter excited me every bit as much as her cunt did.
Not that I was neglecting the cunt! She tugged lightly on my balls, and I cupped her crotch in my hand and started to work my fingers against her labia, while she gave a little squeal of delight.
Soon, our half-finished drinks were pretty much forgotten, and we were both busy feeling each other up like mad. I think we might have gone on and felt ourselves to a come if she hadn't said, "mmm, this is wonderful, daddy, but let's do some more fucking!"
Well, that was fine by me and my cock, so without much more ado, we got back down onto the floor.
"Ever been fucked dog-style?" I asked.
"Uh uh," she said. "The boys at school aren't very imaginative."
The thought of being compared favorably to the boys at school made my cock give another little twinge of excitement. There could be no question about it. Sexually there was a bit of life left in me yet!
"Well," I said, "just you get down on your hands and knees and I'll show you how nice a dog-style fuck can be!"
She hurried to do what I asked, and I got into position behind her. To tell the truth, I was about as excited as a kid on Christmas morning. You see, not merely does Edna never want to fuck, but on those rare occasions when she does let me "use her body" (she actually put it that way, once) she always insists that we do it in the missionary position. She says that any other position indicates that I don't have any respect for her.
So I hadn't done a dog-style fuck in years, but after the successful bang that I'd already given my daughter, I was pretty confident that I would be able to manage without any trouble. Hell, fucking is like riding a bicycle, I guess. You think you get rusty, but you never really forget, and everything all comes back to you with about two seconds' practice. How I was going to get used to being content with old corpse-like Edna after this treat with my daughter was something that I wasn't sure of. But that was a bridge that I was going to cross when I came to it.
I've always thought that one of the really nice things about fucking dog-style is all the nice stuff that you get to do to the woman's tits. Nice for you and nice for her, which is just exactly how anything in fucking should be!
That sounds funny, of course, because you can't really see a woman's tits while you fuck her dog-style. If you lean over to one side, you can maybe catch a sort of side view, but that's about all.
Man, though, can you ever feel them! The way they hang away from the woman's chest like some kind of ripe fruit that's waiting for you to pluck it!
I placed my hands underneath Judy's chest and took her tits in my hands. like I think I told you, Doc, they're not great big danglies, but they're a nice size, and particularly when they're hanging away from her body like that they make a nice handful.
I pressed the things up against her chest, and then let them flop back down. Then, I took hold of a nipple in each hand, and pulled the tits out to one side before letting them go. They flopped back together, while Judy gave a little giggle of appreciation.
All this was a hell of a lot of fun for both of us, but of course in fucking, the more fun you have, the more you want to get on to something else. In other words, playing with my daughter's breasts in this fashion was such a turn-on for me, that I just had to get that cock of mine in her pink little box.
I let go of her tits for a second and leaned back so I could get a look at that cunt of hers. Just like I'd imagined when she had been bathing and I had been thinking about her, it was really delightful. I like a girl with medium size labia. Not too small for you to get a hold of, but at the same time not great big floppy ones either. I could see that Judy's were just exactly right, which didn't surprise me in the least. Everything else about her was perfect, so it stood to reason that her cunt lips would be too!
In fact, to show my appreciation of how wonderful they were, I took them in my right hand and gave a little tweak. Judy gave a gasp of delight.
"Daddy, I've just got to have your prick!" she moaned.
Well, I just had to have it inside her, too, so I guess we were both in luck. I moved up close to her again, and while fondling her tits, I positioned my rod at the entrance to her twat.
I rubbed the prick tip lightly against the wet labia, and then, I shoved on in.
"Daddy's so long!" Judy gasped.
"like it that way?"
"You bet," she said.
I let her feel the length of my prick by resting with it inside her for a second. That way she could notice how the tip of it actually pressed against the soft entrance to her womb. Then, I started to slide back and forth.
If Edna's a corpse, Judy's about the liveliest piece of ass that a guy is ever- likely to come across. Not that she tried to take over the fuck, or anything like that, but man ! She had a way of giving little counterthrusts with her pelvis that really accentuated the thrusts that I was giving in the other direction. Either the boys at school that she fucked with knew a hell of a lot and had managed to teach her, or she just had natural aptitude. I'm inclined to think that the latter was the case.
I was really picking up speed now, and the feel of that tight little twat clutching at my prick was really something else! I mean, I thought that I was going to come every time that I thrust my rod in, but I guess something instinctive inside me was holding me back from coming too soon.
Buck! Buck! Buck! And I thrust, I could feel how my prick was rubbing against her labia, feel how it must be forcing those pink cunt lips against her clit. In fact, I think that one of the purposes of those counter-thrusts of hers was to give her clit the maximum amount of stimulation from her labia.
I was breathing in short gasps now as I continued to work my tool inside her vagina. I could feel my muscles tensing, feel my nerves knotting up, as I readied myself to shoot.
In! Out! In! Out! I wasn't far from my come, and judging from the way in which she was panting, and from the way she was moving her pelvis, she wasn't far from her come either.
I just had to build us up a bit more ... just a bit more....
I felt like someone over-winding a clock, with the difference that I wanted the mainspring to bust....
And ... then....
BBRRRRRT! It bust all right, with my prick suddenly shooting in spasms that felt like they were coming right on top of one another, they were so eager to get that spunk out.
Don't think there wasn't spunk left, either, even after that first shot! I could tell that this wasn't a dry run, could tell that my whanger was filling that pulsating little pussy with mancream!
And talk about pulsating! I could feel her cunt grab at my cock as if it never intended to let it go! And because her hips didn't have my weight on top of them like they had during the first fuck, this time they were really free to buck and heave all over the place. It was a neat feeling, and it made my cock gush even harder.
Finally, we were done, and I pulled on out. As Judy got to her feet, I could see her legs tremble, and I could also see some of my jism flow out of her cunt and down her leg. That was a pretty good indication of how much I had managed to give her, even though it was just a second shot.
She noticed a long thread of come trailing down from my cock like it sometimes does, and she bent down and licked it off.
After hearing about what fantastic comes I'd had with my daughter, you may be surprised to hear me say that the best was still to come. I don't mean that there was any more fucking. In fact, we both felt pretty fucked out. But we were able to sleep in the same bed, because Edna was away. Sleeping in the same bed with Edna is just a drag. It's like sleeping with a statue placed next to you to take up room that you might otherwise want to have. But sleeping with Judy! Now that was something different. like I said, we didn't do any more fucking, but just having her warm young female body there next to me, was out of this world as a sensation. And in the night, when I was maybe just half asleep, I'd put my arm around her and feel her snuggle up to me, and smell her slight female odor.
Unfortunately, Edna was due back from her sister's the following afternoon, and I had to go to work kind of early, so it was obvious that Judy and I had had our last fucks together for a while. In fact, I knew that it was going to be so hard to readjust that I almost wished that the business between me and Judy had never gotten started.
Edna's always around the house. She's too crabby to have any woman friends to go out to the movies with or anything, and of course I'm working most of the day. And there isn't much chance for Judy and me to go to a motel or anything, since of course Edna would wonder what happened to the twenty bucks or so that it cost.
The result was that both Judy and I just about went out of our minds with horniness while waiting for a chance to do some more fucking to turn up.
Finally, an opportunity presented itself. Edna's sister fell ill, and she had to get out and visit her. The sister's as crabby as Edna is, so if it weren't for Edna, no one would have visited her. I think the two of them like to get together and criticize me. That's what they always do when they're around the house together.
You'd better believe that Judy and I were in each other's arms almost the instant that we heard the door close behind us. In fact, it was kind of a game. We were actually rolling around on the floor, tearing at each other's clothes. If it weren't for the fact that Edna would have noticed, I think we would have literally ripped the clothes off of each other, we were so excited. As it was, we just pulled the buttons open while being careful not to wreck anything.
"What kind of a fuck shall we do, Judy?" I asked my hot little daughter.
"Well," she said, "daddy worked so hard giving me a good time when we last fucked that maybe I should give him a chance to rest this time."
"You mean you'd like to top-ride me?"
"Uh huh."
"Fine, by me," I said. Since Judy and I got so few opportunities to fuck it stood to reason that we shouldn't let ourselves get into a rut sexually. It would be an interesting new experience to see if my daughter was as good a fucker when she was in the active role as she was in the passive role.
I lay on the bed and she straddled me with a knee on either side of my hips. Just looking at her fine young body, with her high tits and gently curving thighs had me about as hard as a bar of iron, and I held my prick aloft, pointing at her cunt.
She smiled and slowly lowered herself down on top of me. She rubbed her clit against the tip of my prick, and then slid back and forth so that my cock pressed against her labia. Finally, when I was clenching my fists in horniness, she positioned herself so that the tip of my cock was resting just inside her cunt, and then down she lowered herself, impaling her tender body on the hard spear of my maleness.
It felt so good to have that cunt open up over me, enveloping and absorbing me until my manhood was completely hidden inside her.
She smiled at me and then bounced lightly up and down on my balls, while I reached up and fondled her tits. like I think I told you before, there's something about those soft, smooth globes of hers that really fascinates me. She enjoys having me play with them, too, and so she just sat there for a while as I rubbed them against her chest, and pulled on her nipples, until the soft rosebuds turned into hard little passion nubs.
All of this was getting us both more and more worked up, however, and that meant that we wanted some friction down below the waist.
She raised herself slowly on my shaft, and then, after waiting a second, came sliding on down again.
Up ... down ... up ... down....
I was having a bit of trouble reaching her tits like that, however, so she leaned forward, taking it into more of a forward-and back motion. That allowed me to keep hold of her breasts all the time, and don't think that I didn't make good use of that privilege! I'd never seen nipples swollen up to quite such a size as hers after I'd been playing with them for about two minutes. In fact her whole breasts had swollen up, and gave my hands a quite delicious bundle to hold onto.
Up! Down! Up! Down! She'd become more assertive in her fucking, and was starting to ride me faster now that both of us were getting so keyed up.
"So fine! So fucking fine!" I said as I felt that slick cunt-lining slide back and forth over my cock. My balls were pulled up against my prick-root as tight as they would go, but that didn't prevent them from trying to get even tighter.
"Fuck me! Ride me! Fuck me!" I grunted, as she continued to work my cock.
Man oh man, was she giving it to me now. She was fucking away like there was no tomorrow, and my cock felt so superheated that I'm surprised it didn't melt. Instead, it just got even harder, as it formed the pole around which she slid her tender body.
I was breathing now in time to her strokes, and she had me so turned on that all I could think about was how goddam fantastic that pussy of hers felt on my meat. But then, she didn't look like she was in much better control of herself, either. Her head was thrown all the way back, and she sort of shook it with every motion of her pelvis, so that her silky long hair swung.
Her body was glistening with sweat, too, and the sight of those little beads sparkling on her soft tits and smooth, curving belly was a real turn-on for some reason or other.
I was about to come ... about to come ... about to come ... And still she kept me hanging fire. There was no question about it, the girl had fantastic natural aptitude. She really knew how to keep me waiting for it (which was what I wanted) just as I'd known how to do exactly the same thing with her the previous time that we had fucked.
"Judy! Judy! Judy!" I gasped in rhythm to her strokes. I wanted to tell her that I had to come, wanted to tell her that my prick simply couldn't stand any more of this wonderful, tantalizing action it was getting, but somehow I wasn't able to get the words out. All I could do was repeat her name.
We were both ready to come ... both hanging fire....
One or two more strokes would do it. Just one or two....
And then, suddenly, as she slid down my shaft one more time, we were both coming, and coming like we were going to put our souls into it!
I felt my cock tense as she slipped down its length, and just as she touched my balls, and the tip of my prick pressed against the opening to her womb, I felt my rod begin to shoot its load into that womb, felt it quiver and tremble as if it wanted to pump itself inside out into her vagina.
That vagina felt hungry, too, as it clutched at my penis, as if it wanted to really milk it. Her hips were trembling and heaving, she was gasping and tossing her head from side to side, and together we let fly in one of the most fantastic comes anyone can ever have had!
Then, she lifted her body off of my penis, and as she did so, a bit of my spunk dripped down on to my belly. She was never a girl to let good sperm go to waste, it seems, for she slipped her fingers along my skin at that point so as to collect the stuff on her fingers, and then licked the fingers clean.
After that, we rested a bit, and had a luscious sixty-nine. The feeling of that girl's cunt exploding on my face! Man! We started off kind of slowly, but soon I was licking up a storm. Oral sex is another one of those things that Edna insists it would be degrading for me to do with her, so I hadn't had a good cunt-lap since I got married. After first sniffing around a bit, and noticing what a delightful female smell my daughter's pussy had, I'd set to with my tongue.
The labia were really perfect, too, like I'd noticed before. It's only when you're licking labia that you can make a final judgment about them. But Judy's sure passed every test. In the first place, they were really sensitive, so that her whole body seemed to quiver when I touched them with my tongue. And they were a perfect size for really being able to slurp a tongue over, too.
I didn't neglect the other parts of her cunt either, though. I licked her clit a couple of times, but that was so sensitive that I really had to be kind of careful with it. All I'd have to do would be to touch it with my tongue, and her pelvis would sort of heave, as if she were just about to let fly in her come-spasms.
So most of the time I either licked the labia or slid my tongue down into her vagina, as if it were a sort of snaky prick. That was kind of neat, the sensation of her cunt-walls pressing against my tongue, which of course pressed back pretty vigorously. I wanted to stick my tongue in far enough to touch the entrance to her womb, but as I should have known, it just wasn't long enough. That didn't really matter, though, since it was plenty of fun just pressing it against the sides of the cunt.
When I pulled it out, it was coated with cunt-juice, and you'd better believe that I didn't let that go to waste. What's more female than pussy-fluid? I noticed that it was kind of salty, and I guess that as a pure taste sensation, compared to say hamburger, it wasn't much, but the fact that I knew it was cunt-juice, and even more, the fact that I knew it had come out of my daughter's cunt, made it better than even caviar could be.
Of course, while I was slurping away with my tongue, she was sucking away on my prick, and licking it too. It wasn't long before I felt my cock just about to fire. That meant that it was up to me to get Judy off too, since we wanted to come together, of course. Well, I remembered the kind of response that I'd gotten when I'd tried licking her clit, so there was no problem there. I just pressed the tip of my tongue as hard as I could against the hard little button.
Bingo! That was really it! Her twat was really exploding around my face now, while my cock unloaded into her vagina. I felt the wet muff slam against my mouth, and I buried my face in it and rode with the shocks, while continuing to keep my lips glued to her cunt-lips. like every other come we've ever had together, it was quite fantastic!
But of course Edna was soon back from her sister's, and there we were, high and dry again. We've had a couple more occasions to fuck, but man, they're sure few and far between. The thing is that I just don't know if I can take this frustration much longer. That's why the idea of moving out on Edna came to me. I guess it's something that I thought of before I started fucking with Judy, but then I'd wondered about who would cook for me and do stuff like that. I'm not all that young any more, to try and attract another wife, and I don't know if I'd really like the responsibility of setting up another marriage. But it seemed to me that since Judy and I are so fantastically compatible physically, and have always gotten along pretty well together, too, there might be something to be said for the two of us living together, at least until she was old enough to want to get married, though of course I guess that that would put me back at square one again, if she did that.
When incest between a parent and child occurs, one of the most common aspects of the situation is rejection by the other marriage partner. (1) If a person has latent incestuous cravings for his opposite-sexed child, it stands to reason that the pressure exerted by these upon the conscious will become increasingly great the longer he has to do without any other sexual outlet.
In the case of Joe B., he was deprived of virtually all sexual gratification within his marriage, and had scant chance of finding it outside, for the reasons that he gave. Thus, the sexual relationship with his daughter must have seemed like a real Godsend after all the years of drought.
Every bit as important as physical rejection is, of course, emotional rejection. His wife not merely didn't like him, she clearly despised him, for reasons that would seem to have a great deal to do with her own neuroses. It is always painful to be an object of dislike, as Mr. B. is to his wife, and the respect and affection shown by his daughter (for neurotic reasons of her own, concerning which I will say more soon) must have been almost as welcome as her young, lush body.
It is interesting to note that Mrs. B. fits almost perfectly the description given by Kaufman, et al. of the mother of a daughter engaged in
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1. Masters, op. ext., p. 82
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sex with her father. (1) In this excellent study, the women were all neurotic, sexless creatures who had a very ambivalent attitude towards their daughter's youth and sexuality. They were envious of it, but at the same time, they almost wished that the daughter could replace them in the sexual role that they so little enjoyed playing. The fact that the family is working-class and has little education corresponds to Krafft-Ebing's belief that incest is more prevalent among the lower classes. (2) This may seem today like a rather intolerant view, but it is born out in Kaufman's study. Probably practical considerations are paramount there. As Mr. B. says, he can't afford a prostitute or a motel room, let alone any of the wining and dining with which a member of the middle class seduces a woman whom he wants for a mistress.
In Kaufman's study, the daughter has a desire to dethrone her mother, to become a sort of substitute wife. (3) We see clearly how much contempt and dislike Judy had for her mother, who is seen as a rival, or more accurately, as an obstacle to the total possession of the opposite
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1. Kaufman et. al, "The Family Constellation...." American Journal of Orthopsychiatry, 240: 266-279 (April, 1954)
2. Krafft-Ebing, Psychopathia Sexualis, N.Y. 1939 (trans) p. 612
3. Kaufman, op. cit., p. 269
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sexed parent which, in Freud at least, is seen as so important.
Judy clearly is the motivating factor in the whole incestuous affair. She effectively seduces her father, with the way she leans over his chair and lets her breasts hang near his face. Of course, her father already had strong sexual desires for her, but it seems un- likely that he would have ever found the courage to express them if his daughter had not called his hand, so to speak, by flouting her sexuality in such a way that he simply could not resist.
Mr. B. is obviously an individual with a very passive personality. The mere fact that he would continue in the marriage with Edna for as long as he did is an indication of this. His desire to be in an infantile (passive) position is of course well expressed by the interest he has in his daughter's breasts. All heterosexual men are interested in female breasts, of course, but when this interest is carried beyond a certain point, one cannot help wondering what it is that the man wants-a lover or a mother. What in fact he wants is the two combined, and in a sense the man's own incestuous desires towards his mother (a normal part of growing up, according to Freud) are lived out again and actually consummated with the daughter.
Presumably, Mr. B. would be able to lead a fuller, more emotionally satisfying life if he was able to get this excessive passivity dealt with. However, his relationship with his daughter was so precious that he was afraid that therapy might have the effect of destroying it. Since this was the last thing that he wanted, and since therapy even at the reduced rates which I offered him, was going to be a financially difficult proposition for him, he elected to carry out his original plan. He left his wife, and chose to get a legal separation rather than a divorce. (Given her desire for security, it is not surprising that she would prefer this too.)
That saved him the expenses involved in divorce proceedings, even though he still had to support his wife, who could certainly gotten a court to insist on such payments. Of course, without a divorce he could not remarry, but since the only woman he was interested in was his daughter (as with Heidi T. and her brother, an emotionally safe choice) that did not matter to him.
Presumably he's happy enough in the new arrangement, though I feel that it is a great pity that he did not choose therapy, and the same can be said of his daughter, whose emotional problems (need for approval, fear of unfamiliar men) certainly need attention.
CASE HISTORY THREE
Some individuals, like Joe B. in the preceding case, are relatively unaffected by the fact that society so strongly disapproves of the incestuous relations which they engage in. For one reason or another, they either don't feel guilt or are able to repress it effectively. And in this they are lucky, since guilt never did anybody much good.
But other people are more like Margaret F., an elegant brunette in her mid thirties, who was so hesitant about having to admit why she had come to my office that the first thing she said was, "Doctor, I think I made a mistake coming here. I'd better leave and not waste your time."
"Now Mrs. F., " I said, "if you feel that bad about whatever it is that brought you here to my office, I can assure you that it will not be a waste of time for us to discuss it."
She bit her lower lip and looked around herself nervously. If she could have just vanished, I think she would have, but she lacked the nerve to get up and walk out.
"Mrs. F., " I said, "you're very frightened, and that means that you're also very unhappy. But if you'll tell me what it is that has you so uptight, there's a good chance that I'll be able to help you deal with it so that it won't bother you any more."
Whatever was bothering Mrs. F. was obviously really bothering her, because after I made the above remark, I could clearly see on her face the conflict between two desires. On one hand, she felt that what she had done was so terrible that she would rather at almost any cost not have to discuss it. On the other hand, the prospect of living with it was so grim, that she was very tempted by my statement to the effect that I could perhaps help her get rid of it.
The latter desire was the stronger, which is hardly surprising, since it was obviously as the result of a similar conflict that she had made the appointment in the first place.
"The thing that's so awful, Doctor," she said, "is the harm that I'm doing to the person I love best in the whole world-my son Larry!"
That statement told me almost everything I might have wanted to know about why Mrs. F. had decided to come see a therapist.
"What do you do that hurts him so?" I asked.
She opened her mouth, but just couldn't make any words come out.
"You have sexual relations with him, don't you?"
"How do you know?" she asked, astonished. "Because it's such a frequent occurrence."
"Frequent? For mothers to fuck with their sons?"
"That's right. One of the strange things about sexual problems is that most people who suffer from them imagine that they are the only people in the world like that, when in fact the exact opposite is true."
"So I'm not alone."
"No," I said, "and I could even guess many of the details of your involvement with your son, I imagine," I said. "But I would rather hear them from you."
Now that the cat was out of the bag, so to speak,,that side of Mrs. F. that wanted the relief of telling all won out without any difficulty. With a new firmness and control in her voice, she leaned forward and began her story....
My son Larry is fifteen, and he's starting to develop into a really fine man. Both as far as his personality goes, and also physically. In fact the development is probably more noticeable in the physical aspects, since he was always a nice person, even as a little boy. But in the last couple of years, he's really shot up in height, and he's started to get quite muscular, too.
A reason for the muscles is that he's quite fond of sports in school. One of the things that he goes in for is long distance running, and another is squash.
Well, he's on the squash team, and he played in a big school tournament. I was there, rooting for him of course. His father wasn't but then his father's never in town anyway. He's a big high-power executive, one of these guys who's a lot more interested in closing some big deal than he is with being with me and Larry. I've always resented that, particularly for Larry's sake, since I think that he feels kind of rejected by his father, just because his father's never there.
The squash tournament was really hard fought, and Larry had to exert himself like crazy to win, though he finally did. I was so excited sitting up there in the visitor's gallery, watching him leap around banging that ball back and forth. I could see how muscular his legs were as he leaped around, and I could see the sweat standing out on his forehead. Every time he hit that ball, and it went slamming against the backboard and caroming around the court, I jumped up and down in my seat, I was so excited.
I wasn't just excited in the sense of wanting him to win, either. My pussy was excited, too. I could feel my little clit tingling, and my panties were getting damper and damper as the game continued.
At first, I didn't think anything of it, since
I've noticed this tendency before at athletic events.
It had always bothered me, and I'd assumed that it was just part of the general excitement I was feeling. For all I knew, all women got wet while watching male athletes, whether one of them was their son or not.
This time, though, the excitement was more pronounced than usual, and I couldn't help wondering what the match would be like if the two boys playing it were naked, so that I could see their penises flopping as they reached out to hit the ball. Of course, that would have meant seeing my son's penis flop too....
"You're just being silly," I said to myself, and tried to put the thought out of my mind.
After the game, Larry showered and dressed and came on home with me. My husband, as I said, was out of town.
After dinner, I noticed that Larry was moving about very awkwardly, and there was a slight look of pain on his face.
"What is it, dear?" I asked.
"Nothing much, mom," he said. "It's just that I'm kind of stiff after that game. I guess I wasn't in such good shape as I thought that I was."
"Anything I can do to help?"
"Actually, yes," he said. "An alcohol rub would be really nice, but that's sort of a lot of trouble for you to go to."
"Nonsense, I don't mind at all."
He went off to his room, and came down a few minutes later naked except for a towel around his waist. I placed some towels on the dining room table, and he lay face down on it so that I could rub his back.
As he lay down, the towel slipped slightly, and I got a glimpse of his ass. I covered it up quickly, but not fast enough to prevent my clit from really starting to tingle at the sight.
I tried to think of something else, but it wasn't easy, since I was busy rubbing and massaging his strong muscles.
After a while, I told him to turn over on his back so I could rub some alcohol into his chest. I didn't know if that was part of a normal rub-down, but I hoped it was. He certainly complied with my request fast enough, and as he rolled over, I could see his prick under the towel.
Judging from the outline, the thing was as stiff as a board!
I couldn't help wondering if the reason for that was the stimulation that he had been getting from my hands! My clit was really screaming for some action now, and if it hadn't been for the fact that I couldn't do such a thing in front of my son, I would have reached under my dress and played with myself until I came.
The more I rubbed, the more my eyes kept wandering back to that rod of his, so visible under the towel. And the more desperate I got.
"You need a rub all over, don't you?" I asked.
"Uh huh," he said.
"How about here?! " And I reached under the towel and grabbed hold of his penis. It wasn't anything planned, just something that kind of happened on the spur of the moment. It was certainly almost enough to make me come just to feel that hard rod of his beneath my fingers!
"Mom!" he gasped, but he didn't try and do anything to make me take my hand away. And though putting my hand there had been a momentary impulse, I certainly didn't feel that I could let go of his cock now. I just felt way the hell too cranked up for that.
I was really desperate, now, and without thinking, I slid my hand up under my dress. A second ago, that seemed unthinkable, but now that I had revealed my feelings by grabbing his cock, there didn't seem any reason not to do that.
He gazed in astonishment, but since my rubbing was continuing on his prick all the while, his gaze became less and less astonished and more and more ecstatic. He didn't care what I did, as long as those wonderful sensations on his penis didn't stop!
I was cupping my crotch really hard, now, and feeling my labia up through the thin nylon. It was so wet and thin that the stimulation was almost the same as if I had been touching the bare flesh, but the more carried away I got, the less satisfied I was with "almost." I reached up to my waistband and pulled the panties down and stepped out of them, while continuing to massage my sons' firm penis. I didn't just leave them on the floor, however but put them up on the table with my son.
I hadn't clearly thought out what I was doing that for, but I was really turned on when he spontaneously grabbed them and pressed the soggy things against his face, inhaling deeply. Obviously, the musk of my womanhood was really driving him wild!
So there we were, me standing and feeling up my twat and his rod, and him lying there smelling my soggy panties!
I was breathing in short, sharp gasps now, and every muscle in my body was tense as I waited for my come. He was tossing his head from side to side as he lay there, and I could see that he had tensed his legs. He was straining to come, so as to be able to release this maddening tension inside him, but I could also tell that he really loved the tension too.
I was right on the edge, and I could tell that he was too. I felt his cock give an extra little stiffening, and I knew from experience with my husband that that meant that he was about to shoot. I pressed my fingers hard against my clit just as he fires, and the two of us came together in a strange but totally satisfying come.
by this time the motions of my hand caused the towel covering his rod to slip to one side, so I saw his mancream come shooting out almost like a little fountain! It went up quite nigh, and then landed on my hand.
Meanwhile, my pelvis was bucking and heaving to the force of my come. I was really cutting loose, really unwinding, unwinding from all the sexual frustration to which my husband's absences put me.
When we were done, I think we both felt very sheepish. It wasn't as if we were overwhelmed with guilt. I know that sounds strange, since I was certainly overwhelmed with guilt later, as you yourself have seen in here. But I think maybe because the situation was so strange, we really just felt confused and sort of embarrassed.
I reached over and wiped his sperm up with his towel, and then said, "Well, I guess everyone gets carried away."
"Yeah," he said, looking down at the floor, "I guess that's so."
We were both so embarrassed that he soon went off to his room and read, while I stay downstairs. We didn't discuss the incident or anything. I guess we were afraid to discuss it.
Of course, if you've done something you feel a bit dubious about, sitting around thinking about it by yourself isn't much of a way to feel any better. And the more I thought of how I'd beaten my son off, the more weird and unnatural it seemed.
I kept trying to tell myself that it was just one of those things, however, just a matter of temporary loss of self-control. And I was still telling myself that when I climbed into bed.
The trouble was that as soon as I fell asleep, I started dreaming about getting fucked by Larry. I saw his big cock come popping out of a pair of tight jeans he was wearing in the dream, and after I kissed and sucked it a bit, he rammed it into my pussy and bucked it back and forth until it really just about seemed to explode inside me.
The dream was so vivid that I woke up in the middle of it, just as I was about to blow Larry. And to my surprise, when I woke up there was a funny sensation on my cunt. I suddenly realized that it was my hand. I'd been beating myself off while asleep, believe it or not.
That bothered me so much-the incestuous angle, I mean, not the masturbation, since my husband's frequent trips had made me into an assiduous masturbator-that I got up and went to the bathroom to get a drink of water, in the hope that that little interlude would prevent the dream from recurring, or starting up again where it left off.
I wasn't bothered with the dream the rest of the night, but starting the next morning, I was sure bothered by the mere presence of Larry.
We were both kind of avoiding each other because of the way we felt about what had happened the evening before. But the worst thing about the situation was that even when I was trying not to look at Larry, I found myself incredibly turned on by his mere presence. Before, I'd have to be watching him engage in some vigorous sport or something for my clit to get hard. But now, just knowing that he was there was enough to have me all charged up.
I think that the same thing was true in reverse with him. In other words, he was now turned on by my presence, for I thought that the bulge which I saw in the front of his pants was too big to be caused by a fully relaxed prick. It was as if the funny little beat-off session of the night before had really heightened our feelings towards one another, for some reason.
It was a Saturday, and we normally spent weekends together, but he said he wanted to go out for a walk alone, and I'm sure that the reason for that was that he didn't want to be sexually excited by me.
I spent the whole day hoping that somehow these feelings would go away on their own, but they didn't, and when Larry came back from his walk, I found it harder than ever not to stare right at that bulge in the front of his pants.
Dinner was sort of silent and embarrassed, and then, just as Larry was about to go to bed, I said to him, "Larry, we can't go on like this...."
I think that what I meant to say was that we should have a talk about our feelings for one another, but when he said, "Mom, I know we can't, all my resistance collapsed all at once, and I took him in my arms.
I could feel his prick pressing against my belly, and he was unzipping my dress. My presence in his arms had torn down whatever powers of resistance I had, and now we both knew that we just had to get his penis in my vagina!
I fumbled with the fastenings on his pants, then finally got the thing open and pulled the pants and underpants down. His prick popped out into the open, and I took it in my hand and squeezed it. The scene was rather like the one in my dream, but I wasn't thinking about dreams at the moment. I was thinking about the reality of his prick, and how I wanted that big hard thing sliding back and forth inside my cunt, until it exploded in a frantic burst of come-fury!
He pulled down my panties, and then slid his cock into me while we were both standing there. I'd never fucked standing up before, but with Larry's prick inside me, I wasn't going to waste any time complaining about the newness of the position.
Besides there was nothing wrong with the position anyway. The very ad hoc, emergency quality of it heightened the excitement of that big tool of his shoving in and out of my soft twat.
Man, oh man, was it ever shoving. He was bucking away as if he wanted me to have come five minutes ago! Every time he buried that thing of his to the hilt in my body, I felt the labia press against my clit in a way that set my teeth on edge but that I wouldn't have traded for anything else in the world.
His hands were on my tits, feeling them through the blouse I was wearing. He was trying to unbutton the blouse, but he wanted to feel the tits too, so it was taking a bit longer than it otherwise would have. I had both hands free, however, so I was able to get the blouse unbuttoned and the bra unhooked. The blouse was still covering my shoulders, and since the bra had shoulder straps that meant that I couldn't get it all the way off, but that didn't matter. Once it was unhooked, it was an easy matter for me to pull my tits over the tops of the cups, so that they were readily accessible to his hands.
Those hands sure knew what to do with them, too! They caressed and squeezed and kneaded as if that was the only thing in the world that hands were designed for.
The tit action was getting me pretty worked up, but it was getting some pretty stiff competition as a source of excitement from that whanger of his that was slamming back and forth between my legs.
He was really working me now, really letting me have it, with one big hard stroke after another. He sure knew what to do with those muscles in his legs that he had gotten from playing squash.
I shuddered with delight as I felt his cock slide back and forth inside me, moving on the slick layer of pussy fluid that I was so copiously secreting.
I felt my muscles tense, felt my body ready itself for the come, and still he continued to pound away inside me.
"Larry! Larry! Larry! Make me come! Make your mother come!"
That was just what he did, with that big next stroke of his. He rammed it home with a force that shook my pelvis, and as the tip of his whanger touched the entrance to my womb, I felt his cock spew off in spasm after spasm of pure come joy.
My cunt clutched at his pulsating tool, and my pelvis bucked and heaved with the force of my come, as every nerve in my body seemed to be unwinding at once.
Then, we were standing there with our genitals locked together, both of us panting for air.
"Mom, that was fantastic!" he said.
I gave him a kiss in which I tried to put all the gratitude I felt for the wonderful fuck that he had just given me, and all my love for him.
He pulled his rod out, and put his arm around my shoulder. He led me to the sofa, and we sat down. I could feel my pussy-fluid (mingled with his sperm, of course) drip out of my cunt and onto the sofa cushions.
"Gee, mom," he said at last, "I guess that we really like making it together."
"I guess so," I replied, "but Larry, do you think we should?"
"I dunno mom, I just dunno."
He already had his arm on my shoulder, though, and it felt so comforting there that I knew that whether we should be making it together or not, there wasn't any way on earth that we could stop having sex together, now that we'd had a taste of what it would be like!
It isn't just that Larry was a better cocksman than my husband, though that's certainly true. It's that with him there's a tenderness and love through it all that's completely lacking with Bill.
He leaned over as we sat on the sofa, for instance, and gave me a whole lot of little kisses on the cheek. It was as if he wanted to assure me of how much he loved me.
I reached out and took hold of his cock, which was hardly very soft by any means. I gave it a couple of squeezes, and the thing stiffened up in my hand almost at once. There could be no doubt about my son's virility, that was for sure!
"Mom," he said after a pause, "shall we sixty-nine?"
I glanced at that hard rod of his, and the thought of having it in my mouth caused me to lick my lips.
He noticed that, and gave a laugh.
"You can lick those lips of yours all you like," he said, "but I know some other lips you have that I'm interested in right at the moment."
That made my clit stiffen up slightly. I've always really enjoyed oral sex, and I could hardly wait to feel that mouth of Larry's pressed against my twat.
We were already on the sofa, and it wasn't much effort for Larry to gently push me back so that I was lying on my side. I crooked one knee so that my cunt was fully exposed, and he placed his face near my cunt and started to sniff.
"As nice as the panties?" I asked him, referring to the way in which he had sniffed up my panties while I had beaten him off the night before.
"Even better!" he said. "Don't think that your cunt lips aren't a lot more interesting to look at than a pair of nylon panties!"
He pressed his mouth against my cunt and kissed it, almost as if he were kissing a mouth. He slipped his tongue down into my female hole, and slid it around, just like he was giving a French kiss.
My hips shuddered with delight as I felt the sexy sensations down there that he was causing with his mouth. My own mouth felt a bit left out of things, though, and I said to him, "C'mon, Larry, don't be stingy with that cock of yours!"
He turned around on the sofa so that his cock was near my face, and I took the thing in my hand and rubbed it. It was really one of the finest looking male instruments that it would be possible to imagine.
I sent my tongue darting out and coated the knob of his penis with saliva. Then, I slipped my lips over it and really began to suck.
Larry took that as a sigh that the time for the preliminaries was over, and I felt his tongue slide all along the length of my trembling cunt-skin.
Man! Did that boy know how to lick twat or what! The tongue slipped back and forth over the labia with a kind of funny skipping motion that had me thinking that I would probably be coming almost immediately. But Larry was far too good a cocksman and cuntlapper to ever cause a woman to come too soon! Every time I started to get hot, he'd ease up on the pressure just a bit so as to give me time to get myself a bit better under control.
Slurp! Slurp! Slurp! There wasn't a nook, cranny or fold of female flesh that that tongue of his didn't glide into, teasing, tantalizing, maddening !
Mind you, I wasn't exactly letting his whanger get bored either. I was sucking on it vigorously, and using my tongue too to increase stimulation to the maximum. That shaft felt so incredibly good in my mouth that most of the time I wanted it rammed in all the way, with the tip of it poking against the entrance to my throat. By so as to vary the pace a bit, I would also slide my mouth up and down along the length of it, or concentrate on the tender spot where the knob joined the shaft.
I was also feeling his balls up with my fingers, pulling gently at the tight sack and moving the nuts around in it slightly. I could tell that he really liked that, since every time I exerted a bit of pressure, the cunt-lapping would get even more intense, as if he somehow wanted to share the enjoyment that he was getting from me.
I just couldn't believe the kind of job that he was doing on my pussy! That tongue of his was turning my female organ into a flaming mass of female fuck-frenzy!
He would send his tongue circling in towards my clit, for instance, edging up towards it bit by bit, until I thought that I was going to go out of my mind if my fun-button didn't feel the touch of it right away.
Closer and closer he'd come. Then, he'd give a quick little flick that would almost but not quite satisfy me, and then slide his tongue away again.
He was poking his tongue down into my vagina, too, sliding it way, way in, and pressing the tongue-tip against my cunt-walls, before pulling back out again.
I was getting ready to come ... I was really hanging fire ... and still he lapped, and still I sucked, and still we waited in a state of total frenzy.
Then, suddenly, I felt his cock stiffen up a bit more in my mouth. I knew what that meant, and hoped that I was going to come at the same time.
No problem there at all! Larry knew perfectly well the state his prick was in, and so, just as he started to shoot, he pressed his tongue against my clit as hard as he could.
Man! I felt like I was short-circuiting there, as suddenly a shower of come-sparks seemed to erupt from my agonized pussy!
Then ... WHAM! WHAM! WHAM! My pelvis was bucking and heaving frantically, really slamming against his face, while his cock was sending spurt after spurt of mancream up into my mouth.
Gush! Gush! Gush! This was his second shot, and he still had more of the stuff than my husband Bill usually has on his first.
Coming! Coming! Coming! It was outasight, it was mind-blowing, it was just ... COMING!
Then, the last bit of sperm finished gushing through his rod, and my pelvis quieted down. I continued to suck on his cock, though, partly in the hope that I might be able to get a drop or two more of spunk out of it that way, and partly because the thing just felt so fine resting there in my mouth, spunk or no. And as for Larry, he sure didn't intend to let any of that vagina-juice of mine go to waste. He was still lapping away vigorously at my cunt, and making me shudder with delight down there as he did so.
Finally, I pulled my lips off of his rod, and sloshed his sperm back and forth in my mouth a bit before finally drinking it all down in one big gulp. And Larry finally stopped lapping my pussy and gave his lips a final lick.
My husband wasn't due to be back for another couple of days, and the time was like a sort of honeymoon for Larry and 1. We were continually fucking, just like a couple of rabbits. It was a pretty slow afternoon, it seemed, when I didn't have his cock slamming back and forth inside my cunt, or spewing its load into my eager mouth.
But as the time for Bill to return approached, I started to get more and more apprehensive and guilty. I've never thought that adultery was such a great thing, and to cuckold a guy with his own son! That really seems like it's a bit below the belt!
And more important than that was the whole question of what effect this was having on Larry. Before, he'd always been really popular with the girls, and though he didn't have a steady girl, he used to play the field pretty energetically. But I noticed that he no longer called up any of the girls that he used to see. It was as if sex with his mother was all that he was interested in!
"Larry," I said to him the day before his father was due home, "this has been really wonderful, and I'll treasure it all my life. But now ,that your dad's going to be home, I think we'd better call it quits. It's not just that I'm afraid that he might find out about us, though of course that would hurt him terribly besides causing all sorts of trouble for both of us, but it frankly just doesn't seem fair for us to be carrying on like this."
Larry agreed, and I could guess from the look on his face that he had been thinking much the same thoughts. He wasn't terribly close to his father, but the two of them had a reasonably good sort of working relationship, and he was obviously bothered by the thought that he was stealing some of his old man's pussy!
When Bill finally got home, it was sort of a relief for me. I knew that I was going to really miss sex with Larry, but that couldn't be helped, and the fact that my husband was home meant that the interlude with my son would be marked off as just that, namely an interlude that had been fun, but that couldn't have been kept up for long.
Bill was pretty hungry for some twat when he got home and he and I soon headed for the bedroom. He pulled off my clothes and then undid his pants so that his prick could pop out into the open.
There's nothing wrong with his prick, and as I looked at it I thought how nice it would be to have it back in my vagina after this period of having to do without it.
"Heck, it'll probably be even better than Larry's boyish tool!" I said to myself. Talk about self-delusion!
As far as position went, Bill always favored the modified missionary, that is, with the woman on her back and her legs crossed over the small of his back. That tightens up her cunt quite considerably, and thus increases the stimulation for both of them.
I like the position too, and so I was glad to lay back and fold my legs over him as he readied his cock and then slid it in.
I know that he hadn't had any cunt for a while (or so I assume) and that he was pretty horny, but I would have preferred that he be a bit more tender and loving about the way in which he slammed his meat into me.
"Oh well," I thought, "I guess that you can't have everything...."
He was bucking back and forth now inside me, and the sensation was nice. I kept trying to tell myself that I was enjoying myself as much as I did when Larry fucked me, but it was just obviously not true.
The trouble was, that I just wasn't building up to a climax, despite the fact that my husband was really pistoning me pretty vigorously. Sometimes, we have a problem with him going off a bit too soon, but he had good control of himself this time. It was obvious that I just wasn't going to reach my come.
The sweat was really standing out on his forehead, too, as he struggled to keep back his load. He just couldn't understand why I wasn't coming.
I was just about to fake it, since it was obvious that I was not going to be able to come this time, when suddenly I had another idea. I closed my eyes and started to pretend that the guy who was laying his prick into me was Larry.
Larry has a better fucking style than his father, but when your eyes are closed and your imagination is working full blast, that isn't really quite that noticeable. Besides, Bill is a pretty silent type when he fucks, so that I wasn't distracted by having to listen to a voice that obviously didn't belong to my son.
"Fuck me Larry! Fuck me! Fuck me!" I thought to myself as I visualized my son's lean, manly body on top of me, its fine muscles rippling.
Man, that made all the difference! Before I started to do that, I don't think that I'd have been able to come in a million years. But now that I was pretending that it was my son on top of me laying his rod into my vagina, I was getting cranked up in no time flat.
In! Out! In! Out! That really felt good, whereas before it was really unexciting. I could just imagine how that was Larry's penis churning up my insides, working me to a come!
And then I was coming, too, my pelvis buckling and my cunt clutching at the penis that was "trembling and shooting inside it.
After we were done, though, and Bill had pulled his penis out of me, I really started to feel pretty guilty. After all, here he's come back from a business trip, expecting a good fuck from his wife, and having every right to do so, and what does he get? A broad who can only come when she pretends that it's someone else who is balling her, with that someone else being her own son!
I lay in bed all that night trying to chase that thought out of my mind and get to sleep. But I didn't have much luck.
The next time that Bill and I fucked, I was so anxious to be able to come without having to fantasy Larry in my husband's place, that I ended up not being able to come at all, even with fantasies of Larry. When Bill started to fire, I pretended that I was coming too, and squealed and gasped and bucked around a lot, but whatever other faults he might have, Bill is no fool. I'm sure he saw just exactly how fake my pretended come was.
I was really horrified by this new turn of events. Before, I'd never been completely satisfied with the fucks that I'd gotten from Bill, but I'd still been able to enjoy them and come with him. But now, it seemed like my incestuous involvement with my son had put a permanent block on my sex life.
What I was really afraid of was that I might not be able to come with Bill any more, either, so when my husband left on another of those damn business trips of his, I decided that I just had to get things going with Larry again. The only alternative would be a whole life without another orgasm in it, and frankly, I'm just too sexy to 'be able to stand something like that.
"Larry," I said, looking at him and wondering how I was going to bring this up, "I've been thinking...."
"You too?" he asked, and the tone of his voice indicated pretty damn clearly what it was that he had been thinking about.
"I know we shouldn't," I said, with a sob in my voice, "but, but...."
"Hush," he said gently, taking me in his arms and pulling me close to him.
It was so comforting to be held like that. I know that that may sound a bit funny, seeing as I'm the mother and he's the child, but that's the way it was, nevertheless.
He was reaching up under my skirt now, and he pressed his hand against my twat and started to rub. It was sort of like what had happened the first time that we had had sex together, only in reverse.
I felt my hips gyrate, as I sought to increase the stimulation that my cunt was getting from his fingers. Not that his fingers weren't doing a fine job. They were really driving my pussy wild with the way that they were feeling it up through the fabric of my soggy panties.
"Let's fuck," he said softly, and of course that's just about exactly what I had wanted to say.
We went on into my bedroom, and Larry laid me down gently on the bed. He undid my clothes as I lay there totally passive, a hungry female hoping for some nice big cock!
The nice big cock was there all right, making one heck of a bulge in the front of his pants. This fuck wasn't any favor that he was doing me. It was perfectly obvious that his penis was every bit as anxious to be inside my vagina as my vagina was to have it there.
Then, he undid his pants, and pulled them off. The cock expanded itself to full size while I gazed at it hungrily. There could be no doubt about it, he was hung!
"What position shall we do?" he asked.
"How about the modified missionary?" I replied. I guess that I really wanted to be able to compare the sensations that I got from that position when he was in the driver's seat with the rather inadequate ones that Bill had been able to supply me with.
I spread my legs, and my son climbed on board. Then, after playfully prodding at my vaginal area with his cock-tip, he pressed on it."
It was really neat how he was able to enter me so vigorously, and yet retain such an air of tenderness about his stroke, too.
Then, after I had my legs crossed over his back he started to pump.
In and out he went, and with every in-stroke I thought that he was going to go right on through me, while with every out-stroke, I felt that he was probably going to pull my tight pussy inside out. And I was loving every bit of it!
He was going quite fast now, and since I was lubricating up like crazy, he was able to pick up speed without my feeling the slightest discomfort though the huge size of his prick meant that there was still a tight fit. That just made the stimulation all the more fantastic for both of us.
Buck! Buck! Buck!
Cock! Cunt! Cock! Cunt!
Man, was he ever getting me turned on. My husband could have pounded away inside me 'til kingdom come, and I don't think that I'd have ever been able to get it off. But with Larry Wow, after the first five seconds, it felt like was going to blast off right away, and the only reason that I didn't is that he was a naturally brilliant cocksman who understood how to prolong a girl's responses.
In! Out! In! Out! Even a magician couldn't have kept that up much longer without my coming, though, and for Larry, the furious way in which I was panting, the way in which my head tossed from side to side, and the little beads of sweat on my face, indicated pretty clearly the kind of state that I was in.
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Come minus ten and counting! Almost there ... almost ... almost...."Just gotta come, Larry, just gotta ... gotta...."
One more stroke was all that would be required. Just one more ... just one more....
And there it was, hard and fine, and there I was, coming, and coming, and coming, my pussy literally seeming to explode around his big pulsating rod, which shot gob after gob of mancream up into its deepest recesses!
No question about it, with my son, I was still a woman!
So from then on we've fucked pretty regularly, but the guilt that started with our first few fucks has been getting more and more terrible, so that I long for my husband to be away all the time, not so much so that Larry and I can fuck undisturbed (though that's nice, of course) as so that I won't have to look the man I'm cuckolding in the face.
That's why I finally decided that I had to come in and see you. Above all, I had to find out if I was doing any harm to my son! I love Larry so much that I just couldn't bear to hurt him, and yet I'm terribly afraid that all this business of fucking with his mother can't be doing him any good. He doesn't ever see any other females now, and all he's interested in doing is putting that prick of his inside me and firing it off! That's why I need your help and advice so badly, Doctor.
It's interesting to note the extreme guilt of Mrs. F. compared with the absence of such in Mr. B. This is partly, it would seem, a matter of maternal instincts versus rather less strongly paternal ones, though the reader would be making a mistake to assume that such is always the case, or that incestuous fathers do not often come to my office horrified by what they have been doing with their daughters. Nevertheless, I think that it would be fair to say that the element of guilt is somewhat stronger in incestuous mothers than it is in incestuous fathers.
In Mrs. F.'s case, as in the preceding ones, there is the element of sexual deprivation, in this case in the form of her husband's repeated long absences from home on business. And here again, as with Mr. B., for instance, the element of emotional deprivation, the importance of the feeling of being abandoned, is every bit as causal as mere sexual frustration of the physical sort. Not that I want for an instant to downplay the importance of the latter. It's just that I would like the reader to consider how the two interact to bring to the surface already latent incest feelings.
That Mrs. F.'s incestuous attraction for her son was already present long before the actual sexual activity began hardly requires comment. She states how the sight of her son at athletic events cause her vagina to lubricate, and contrary to what she would have liked to believe, this cannot be considered as simply a natural female manifestation of the general excitement involved in watching competitive sports.
She had a great interest in her son's developing body, and as I listened to her account of his fine muscles, and so forth, I could only wonder that it took as long as it did for the incestuous desires to realize themselves in the form of actual sexual behavior, since that was very clearly what was so strongly desired.
The actual events leading up the first sexual act between her and her son of course bear a considerable amount of resemblance to those which caused Heidi and her brother to have sexual relations. Here too the element of the "accident on purpose" seems almost irrefutable. It is natural enough, I suppose, for a mother to want to help her son when he is feeling stiff. But there is all the difference in the world between a woman giving her son a rubdown because she thinks he needs one, and a woman doing so because she is feeling excited after watching him exercise.
His participation in this is like that of Heidi. He is passively available, so to speak. That might seem a bit odd to some people, since from Mrs. F.'s account he sounds like a rather virile young man, and one who is by no means unwilling to assume the active role when he can. For instance, he often puts his arm around his mother and comforts her, etc. But that is after he has found his feet, so to speak. The first time with his mother, he is content to lie back on the table with his penis showing through the towel. I doubt if he actively wished for the sexual advances made by his mother to occur, but he certainly did not spurn them, and the fact that her rubdown had given him an erection indicated with perfect clarity that his incestuous interest in her, however subconscious it may have been, was every bit as great as the one that she had in him.
The problem for Mrs. F., of course, is that her extreme maternal concern for her son's well being led her to feel intensely guilty about her incestuous involvement with her son. The only way to deal with guilt of this sort (which was far too strong to be handled with mere reassurances, was to find out what the root causes of her incestuous attachment to her son were.
This required intensive therapy, and the causes of her problem were rather complicated, but essentially what was involved was classic Freudian penis-envy and penis-fear. Once this was dealt with, her incestuous interest in her son began to wane.
He clearly preferred her as a "safe" object-choice to other females, and it was necessary for him to go into therapy too. But in the end, both of them were able to re-direct their sexual energies in channels that allowed them a great deal more peace of mind, though at the cost of the intense sexual pleasure which they had once been able to give each other.
CASE HISTORY FOUR
Damian G. was a very distinguished looking gentleman in his mid forties, with iron-gray hair and an upright walk. He was not at all abashed by my office, and it was obvious that even if the experience of seeing a therapist was new to him, he was the sort of man to take new experiences in stride.
"My case is a bit strange, perhaps," he said, "in that the thing that's bothering me is all in the past."
"In the past?"
"Well, the activity was in the past," he replied, and you'd think perhaps that since I'm no longer engaging in it, it wouldn't be bothering me, but that isn't the case. I think about her all the time."
"Think about whom?"
"My niece Diana. She's just sixteen. The two of us had quite a thing going for a while, until my wife found us and broke it up."
"When you say you had quite a thing going, do you mean sexually?"
"Oh yes," he said, with complete unconcern. like many men from the upper classes of society, he was much less bothered by the prohibitions and taboos which were so crippling to less fortunate men. Perhaps the reason for that is that someone who's on top of the pile feels that he naturally has a right to regard himself as above many moral strictures.
"You had sex with her for an extended period of time?"
"About a year. I fucked her the day after her fifteenth birthday, and she's now sixteen and two months, if my memory doesn't fail me. She moved out of our house two months ago. Or rather, she was moved out."
"By your wife?"
"Indeed yes. Yvonne is a very tolerant woman in some respects, and when the big crunch was on, she said, 'Damian, if you were hanging out with just any other woman, I'd assume that you were just the victim of the temporary aberration that seems to strike so many men of your age. But I will not stand to have you keep my rival under this room. And I will not stand to see you abuse that child!'
"Yvonne's basically a rather good soul, and I think she was quite serious about wanting to protect Diana. Not that Diana couldn't protect herself from anything she wanted to, but anyway, that's another story...."
I could imagine Damian G. in his club, telling stories all evening long, and I was afraid that although all of what he said was probably true, he wasn't really approaching the business in the right frame of mind. To him, it was all sort of an anecdote.
"Mr. G., " I said, "something must be bothering you, otherwise you wouldn't have come here...."
"Oh yes, it is," he said, suddenly snapping out of the revery that he had been slipping into. "Yes, the thing is that I think night and day about Diana, now that I can't have her any more. I think of her high ass, her round tits, her face, that lovely long silken hair of hers, everything. It's driving me mad. And it's making me really irritable with Yvonne, too. That's a pity, because she is quite sincere about being willing to forgive me for what I did, and by and large we've made a pretty successful go of it, compared to most people we know."
"So you've come to me to find out if I can help you forget about Diana?"
"Well, that's sort of the idea," he said, "though I fully understand that sorting out your emotional problems isn't just like taking a car in for servicing. It's pretty unpredictable sometimes."
"Right," I said, "though you may be surprised at the amount of success that's sometimes possible. But for now, the thing for you to do is to tell me all the details of what happened, with no embellishment." It was obvious that he knew
"All right," he said with a smile, "I promise: no embellishment." It was obvious that he knew of his tendency to treat everything as just an anecdote to recount.
"But," he added, "the story doesn't even need any embellishment to be kind of interesting...."
Diana is the daughter of my late brother Frederick. She was fourteen and a half when she moved in with us after he was killed in a car crash. At that age, she was pretty, but still in a sort of little-girl way, and I'm not really one for cradle-robbing.
My wife and I were pretty good to her, and she was a dear little thing, too. It was really nice to have someone like her around the house, which is normally a gloomy old place. I guess that I've always kind of wanted to have a child of my own, particularly a daughter, for some reason, so I in particular was delighted that Diana had moved in with us.
The trouble was that she covered more distance physically in those six months before her birthday than a lot of girls ever manage to cover. She lost her last baby fat, but that was made up for by plenty of nice curves developing in the right places. Those tits! I don't think any girl her age could ever have a finer pair. And when she walked, she didn't just walk like a kid, either.
There was a sort of throw to her hips that just about drove me out of my mind when I watched her go by.
In fact, it wasn't long before I noticed that my cock started to cram up against the crotch of my pants whenever I saw my darling little niece. Once or twice, I had to sort of casually hold a newspaper against my crotch so that Yvonne couldn't see how hard I was for Diana.
At first, I tried to tell myself that it was nothing. It wasn't so much that the idea of incest bothered me, as that I didn't want to cause hassles with Yvonne. We've had our ups and downs, but she's still a pretty fabulous female.
Nothing helped, though, including a little fling that I had with a chorus girl so as to try and relieve some of the pressure. I knew that I just had to have that little girl or die trying.
There I had problems too, though. She was rather shy, and I was afraid that if I made any advances to her, she'd just burst into tears, or do something like that. Then, I'd have neither the sexual gratification that I wanted, nor the friendship of my niece, which I treasured.
One night, though, when Yvonne was out of town for some reason or another (that woman really has the travel mania!) I found myself lying in bed feeling up my cock and thinking about Diana.
I guess that what I'd planned had been to simply beat off which thinking about how sexy she must be lying there in bed. The trouble was that the more I thought about that, the more and more frantic I got to actually enjoy her sexually, and the less and less satisfied with the job that my hand was doing.
"Hell," I thought, "it wouldn't do any harm to just take a peek at her!"
I got up and went to her bedroom, which was quite a way down the hall from mine. The door was closed, and I could hear her soft breathing.
That made my prick stand up as stiff as a board. The thought that she was asleep in there, that her pussy was only a few feet away and protected by nothing other than a little nightie, if that!
I pushed the door open very gently, and saw that she was fast asleep. I tiptoed into the room, and sat down very gently on the bed.
Her hair looked so beautiful cascading down the pillow that I couldn't resist the temptation to stroke it. She still didn't wake up, and of course that made me all the bolder.
My cock was just screaming for relief now. It was literally aching-that's no exaggeration or figure of speech-and my balls were pulled up so tight that they hurt too. I just had to get a look at her body.
It isn't that I thought I'd be able to get away with it. But that didn't matter. It was just something that I knew I had to do. I pulled the blankets off very carefully, and as I did so I swallowed very hard. The darling little girl wasn't wearing a stitch, and by the moonlight flooding in through the window, I could see every detail of her luscious body.
And was it ever fine! The breasts were lying kind of flat, since she was on her back, but they were still full and nice, and the nipples were a real treat. They stood up from the surface of the tits like pencil erasers, and the very fact that the aureolas weren't all that big just emphasized how excitingly girlish she was!
I couldn't resist. I placed my hand on her belly, and started to stroke it lightly. Then, I moved my hand up to her tit, and cupped it.
She gave a restless little sound, and I stopped dead, expecting her to wake up. She soon was breathing just as heavily as before, however, and my cock was far too excited for me to be warned off by a close call like that!
I was working both her tits now, and then, I moved one of my hands down and cupped her crotch. It was quite wet, and I guessed that either she was having a very sexy dream, or it was possible for a girl to be stimulated in her sleep. It wasn't impossible, I figured, that both might be true at once, namely, that my hand action was giving her sexy dreams.
It was sure giving me an almost unbearable hard-on, though, and I knew that come hell or high water, I just had to take some of the pressure off of that prick of mine.
When I had first set out for Diana's room, I think that what I had in mind was taking a quick peek and then going and beating off. But I was far too charged up now to be able to even consider the idea of leaving that room without first having a come.
In fact, there was only one way that I could imagine getting my rocks off, and that was inside the moist little pussy of hers.
I pulled her legs apart very gently, and then got up on top of her, supporting my weight on my elbows so that she wouldn't notice it. Then, after gulping, I slid my rod on in.
Boy, that must be the most careful entrance that anyone ever did in the whole history of fucking! I positioned the tip of my rod against the entrance to her vagina, and then I shoved so, so slowly, gradually burying my member in the soft, enveloping folds of her twat.
It was only after I was already inside, with my prick-tip resting against the entrance to her womb, that it occurred to me how lucky I was that her maidenhead wasn't still intact! I mean, there's no way you can deflower a girl and not wake her up, or so I would have thought. I couldn't really imagine that Diana had engaged in any sexual activity before, so I figured that she must have been careless with a bicycle seat, or something like that.
For a moment, I just rested with my prick inside her, enjoying the tightness of her little quim. Then, I pulled back and started to pump.
I was going really slowly at first, since of course I wanted to be sure and not wake her up. But the more and more excited I got, the less attention I was able to pay to details like that, and the more desperately I bucked my rod back and forth inside her.
She didn't wake up, though, and I continued to ride her, continued to push my turgid dork back and forth inside that Sleeping Beauty twat of hers, working up to my come!
I could hardly stand the tension now, I was so excited. Every nerve in my body was crying out for a come, for a chance to pour out the incredible accumulated energy and tension.
Then, suddenly, I felt my rod stiffen and start to shoot. And believe it or not, Diana was coming too! Her little twat was really clutching at me, really grabbing onto my spouting whanger, and her pelvis was shuddering, too. She gave a little moan, but she didn't really wake up.
Finally, we were done, and I pulled my prick out of her pussy very, very gently. Then, I covered her up with the blankets again, and crept on out of the room.
That whole night, I dreamed of fucking her. The next morning, though, the euphoria was passed, and I felt a little bit apprehensive. What if she had not slept as soundly as I had hoped? What if she accused me of being a dirty old man who had raped her in her sleep?
Fortunately, nothing of the kind happened. We had breakfast together, as always, and she didn't make any allusions of any kind at all to the previous night's fun and games.
During the rest of the day, I told myself that there was no reason for me to push my luck, and that I had really better not try a stunt like that again.
"You've had your fun, Damian, and that's that," I said to myself. But I guess that that was a little bit like a dieter who's all willpower right after a meal. As evening drew on, and it started to get darker outside, I began to get more and more nervous and impatient. I still planned not to try anything with Diana that night, and yet I felt like a tiger pacing a cage.
"Good night, Uncle Damian," she said when it was time for her to go to bed. She was just wearing a bathrobe, and I knew from what I had seen the night before that there was doubtless nothing of any kind underneath! I had to concentrate to look at her face as I said goodnight, instead of staring at her tits, which pressed very enticingly against the fabric of the bathrobe.
Then, I went back to reading my book, and tried hard not to think of the fact that she was doubtless in bed at that moment, her soft skin touching the cool sheets, her legs spread slightly, perhaps, her cunt open and inviting.
I couldn't help it, it was stronger than I was. I put my book down, and went to her room. I pushed the door open again, and crept up to her. Once again, she was out like a light.
I climbed aboard once again, and again took my fill of her vagina! But this time, as she came, she really groaned quite loudly, and suddenly her eyelids fluttered up.
I gazed in horror back down into her eyes, and fully expected her to start screaming, or something like that. But she did nothing of the sort. She just said, "Mmmmm, Uncle Damian, that's wonderful ! "
I started to pull my prick out, but she didn't want me to.
"Leave it in," she murmured, "it feels so good in there."
She seemed like she was half awake and half asleep. She obviously knew what was going on, but at the same time, she felt kind of dreamy and out of it, so to speak.
"You're awake, then?" I said. It was a sort of dumb thing to say, but I couldn't just lie there on top of her forever with my prick in her cunt and my mouth closed.
"You just woke me up with that wonderful come of yours," she said. I never knew that being fucked was such a wonderful experience.
She was taking the fact that I'd fucked her a great deal better than I ever would have dreamed was possible, but then, it's no secret any more that females enjoy sex every bit as much as men do.
"Would you like me to do something else to you?" I asked her.
"Mmmmmm, yes," she said, in that same dreamy tone of voice. Her eyes kept opening and closing as if she were right on the brink of going to sleep. But I sure wasn't going to pass up an offer like that. I'd been caught, and so I figured that I'd better get all the pleasure out of the situation that I could, since there was no longer any hope of discretion.
I pulled my cock out of her vagina, and then moved on down the bed so that I could place my face next to her vagina. In a way I would have liked to have a bit more light, since as far as I'm concerned, one of the delights of eating a woman out is simply getting to have a look at her luscious equipment. But there was the moonlight flooding in through the thin curtains, and it is impossible to deny that pussy by moonlight really does have a certain romantic quality.
Certainly, I was able to make out all the important details. I could see how the labia were really lovely, crinkly little things of just the right size. I wasn't able to tell what color they were, of course, but I figured that if they were a nice rosy pink like labia should be, they'd have to be considered the loveliest pair in the land, seeing how perfect their shape was.
The cunt lips were turned back slightly where her pussy proper was, and I could glimpse the inviting, enveloping hole. The funny thing about women's sex organs is that even when they belong to really young, inexperienced girls, there's something incredibly mysterious about them, something earth mother-ish, if you know what I mean.
I sent my tongue darting out to the tender cuntskin. Diana gave a little shudder of delight, and I laid three more licks right on top of one another.
"Mmmmm, so nice!" was all she said in that dreamy voice of hers.
I knew of something even nicer, and did it, namely, licked her right on the clit, which was already fully erect and peeping out between the folds of her labia.
That really made her shudder, too, and after giving her another lick there, I realized that I had really better lay off with that action for the time being, unless I wanted her to come right away. She had had one orgasm only a little bit earlier, when I'd had my prick inside her, but it was clear that she was raring to go for another one. Obviously, she was a really readily turned on little piece.
I slurped my tongue up and down the length of her labia, while she gave little moans and squeals of pleasure, I could tell that she was liking this tongue-action every bit as much as the prick action, though of course she's only really woken up for the last part of that.
Slurp! Slurp! Slurp! The more I licked, the wetter she got down there, despite the fact that I was actually lapping her pussy fluid into my mouth. Some of the wetness came from my saliva, perhaps, but I was convinced from the taste that most of it was cunt-dringle that she was secreting like mad!
My prick was fully hard again now with excitement, and yearning for another chance to shoot off. Well, judging from the eagerness of Diana's response to my tongue, she was the kind of girl who wouldn't have any objections to three comes in a row!
I wormed my tongue down into her pussy, and slid it around the cunt-walls. Then I pulled it up and ran it along the labia some more, giving one quick flick to the clit. I figured that even something as sensitive as her fun button apparently was would be able to stand that!
She was really wriggling around now on the bed, though funnily enough, even as she gasped and panted and begged for me to make her come, there was that same funny half-asleep quality to her voice.
I just couldn't wait any longer even if she could. My prick was quite literally aching in its come-need, and I had to get this tongue job over as soon as I possibly could so that I could place my penis inside my darling niece's soft twat or cute little mouth.
I gave another couple of licks to the labia, and then, with one final slurp, I rubbed my tongue all over her clit.
For just a second she hung right on the brink, like those cartoon characters who run off the edge of a cliff, but don't fall until they realize that they aren't standing on anything except for air. Then, I felt her pelvis literally slam against my face, and she was coming like hell!
Wham! Wham! Wham! She was pounding, pounding, pounding, with every muscle in her delicate little body obviously seeking its release at once in a series of frantic come spasms.
I sure don't mind being hit in the face when it's a soft, wet twat that's doing the hitting, I can tell you! I pressed my lips against her pink cunt-lips, and reveled in the feel of her pulsating vagina!
She was moaning and groaning now as the full force of her come swept over her, and still her pelvis continued to buck and heave.
Finally, though, she was done, and lay on her back gasping and panting like a stranded whale.
"like that, honey?" I asked. I didn't think that she could possibly be anything less than wide awake now after a come like that.
"Uncle Damian," she said, "your tongue is every bit as good as your prick is. When can I have your prick back inside me?"
Well, that prick of mine felt like it was just about to burst, it was so anxious to bury itself once again in the soft folds of that little girl's vagina.
"You can have it just as soon as you want it!" I said.
"And if I want it now?" Her voice really was wide awake now. The dreamy quality had been replaced by the eager tone of a female who's hungry for good, hard prick!
"Then you can get it now. Wolud you like to try out a slightly different position?"
"Anything you say, Uncle Damian!"
"Well, how about finding out what it's like to be fucked with your knees together."
The look in her face seemed to indicate that she didn't really think that it could be possible for a girl to be fucked while she held her legs together, but she was far too obedient a niece to question her Uncle Damian on something like that.
"Don't worry," I said, "It's not only possible, it's a lot of fun for both partners."
In fact, I'd only tried it out once before, but the girl who'd done it with me said that it might someday "revolutionize fucking!"
Little Diana pressed her knees together, and I placed a knee of mine on either side of her legs. Then, I lowered myself on top of her while holding onto my prick with my hand. I always enjoy holding on to my prick, but in this case it was necessary as well as fun, since I had to guide my cock in blind, so to speak. By that I mean that I was going to have to shove it past some constraining flesh and get it in the vagina without really being accustomed to the position.
While Diana waited with bated breath, I poked the head of my stallion between her pressed-together thighs and continued to shove.
As I had found the first time I tried the position, the thighs parted readily enough to let the cock on through. After all, they are very fleshy and soft, and they don't mind being pushed back if the purpose of that is to admit some good hard prick into their owner's eager vagina!
I guided the cock-tip so that it ended up pressed against the entrance to Diana's pussy. Now here was where things were going to be a little tight. The thighs were no problem, like I said, and once the cock was inside her, that wasn't going to present any problem either, since the cunt was up in the hip-basin, and thus was unaffected by anything that went on with the legs. But the actual entrance to the pussy was pressed tightly together by the legs, with the result that entrance was just that much more difficult. Funnily enough, though, that was the best part of the position, since it meant that the labia were really squeezed against the inside of the thighs. That meant, of course, more stimulation for both prick and labia, and hence, a pair of very happy people.
I pressed the prick tip against the entrance to her vagina, and then gave a shove that forced the pink labia apart and placed my rod right inside the wet cunt.
It felt so goddam good to have my meat inside her without having to worry about waking her up that I damn near came right then and there without more ado. As it is, though, I have pretty good control, and the result was that I was able to grit my teeth and keep my spunk in my balls.
In I went, until finally the tip of my prick was resting as usual against the entrance to her womb. That always really turns me on. After all, if the vagina has a certain mysterious, female quality for us men, as I said above, how much more does the invisible womb, where we are all conceived and developed! There is really a sense of getting near to the whole mystery of femininity when your prick is resting against a woman's cervix, at least as far as I am concerned.
Of course, that was all very well, but feeling labia and prick rub together is where it's really at as far as a man and a woman are concerned, so after enjoying the feel of my stiff prick resting inside her vagina for a while, I pulled back and then started to fuck.
Some females just have a sort of instinctive idea of how to fuck, and there could be no doubt at all that cute little Diana was one of these. As soon as I started to slide my rod back and forth inside her twat, her pelvis began giving little counterthrusts that really accentuated the action for both of us. The result was that it wasn't very long at all before both of us were working away like mad, building each other up to a state of greater and greater come-need.
The way in which her cunt-lips were pressed against my cock was really something else, let me tell you. And every time I thrust my cock in, she gave a little moan that indicated just how exciting she found that turgid tool of mine.
"Uh! Uh! Uhhh!" she gasped, as I continued to work my rod back and forth inside her.
Her cunt wasn't the only part of her body getting some attention, that's for sure! Those little tits of hers, so round and firm and delicious, were far too good a bet to pass up for anything! I had a hand cupped around each one, and even as my hips bucked my cock back and forth inside her twat, my fingers were causing her two boobs to swell up to about twice their normal size. And since they were quite large anyway, considering her age, that meant that I really had quite a handful of delicious mammary flesh between my fingers. Flesh that I was trying to keep happy by kneading, stroking, pinching, and just about every other imaginable technique. Judging from the swollen state of her nipples, and the fact that they were so sensitive that I could feel her give a little shudder every time I brushed up against them with my fingers, it was pretty obvious that I must be doing something right!
Buck! Buck! Buck! That was my cock, frantically pounding back and forth inside her tender twat. I could hardly breathe now, hardly think. All I knew was that I had to keep slamming my prick back and forth inside her, had to keep working her female body until she let go in a series of frantic come-spasms that would match the ones of my own that were obviously just over the horizon.
In! Out! In! Out! My muscles were tied up in about a zillion different knots as I continued to work my rod back and forth inside her.
"Uncle Damian! Uncle Damian!" she gasped. I think that she wanted to tell me how badly that little pussy of hers needed to come, how utterly frantic she was for the release of a good cunt-busting orgasm, but she was somehow never able to get the words out in between gasps.
That didn't matter, the way in which she was breathing and tossing her head from side to side, the swollen nature of her tits, and the way in which her cunt was quite literally clutching at my rod told me everything I needed to know about this little girl's fantastic come-need. In! Out! In! Out!
Almost there ... Almost fucking there! Just a bit more...."Un-cle! Un-cle!" Just a couple more strokes...."Un-cle ... gotta ... gotta!" Just one more....
I rammed it home, really rammed it, really buried that hard tool of mine up to the hilt, and the moment I did so, I felt her cunt suddenly seem to burst all around my throbbing rod. Even as I felt my cock spew its load into her, sending my come shooting up into her vagina in great, shuddering heaves, her pelvis began to buck and churn under me, and her cunt-walls grabbed at my prick as if they never intended to let it go!
"Ahhhhh!" she gasped as she felt the total force of the fuck frenzy pour through her tender female body. Then, at last, she stopped, and my cock gave a couple more dribbles before resting too.
"Uncle Damian ... uncle Damian ... , " she murmured. This time she wasn't pronouncing my name with the frenzy of a female that has to come, but instead spoke it with the tremendous tranquility of a woman who's just been given the bang of her life down between her legs.
I eased my cock on out and gave her a kiss on the forehead.
"Don't forget, honey," I said, "that you've got to go to school tomorrow, so you need plenty of sleep. But don't worry, Uncle Damian will have something nice when you get home."
She's always been a very obedient child, which meant that she didn't put up any fuss about the fact that I was calling a halt to the evening's activities. Which was good, because although I can sometimes manage three shots in a row, that's a bit tricky at my age, and I prefer to keep things limited to two.
I went back to my own room and lay on my back thinking about how incredibly lucky I was. I mean, here was this adorable little girl living under the same roof as I was, and very eager to feel my prick inside her twat. Well, I would be willing to put it there just as often as she might want it! Of course, when my wife got back, that would raise certain problems, but not insurmountable ones. In my class, Doctor, even couples who have quite a vigorous sex life together (which is the case with Yvonne and me) often have separate bedrooms just for the sake of a little extra privacy. I spend a lot of time in Yvonne's bedroom fucking her, but that didn't mean that I couldn't slip down the hall from time to time so as to get a bit of pussy action off of my cute little niece. It would be a little risky, but I figured that risk was pretty much the spice of life, after all.
The next time I saw Diana, I thought that maybe we could try something different, since she seemed to be very curious about sex and very willing to experiment.
What I did was to grease my prick up first with petroleum jelly. Then, when we had finished with the foreplay, I said, "how would you like me to take you from the rear?"
She obviously thought I meant how would she like me to stick my cock up her cunt from the rear, and she said that she thought that that would be a nice change.
She got on her hands and knees, and waited for the feeling of my rod penetrating her pussy, but when I shoved it up her ass in one sharp stroke, she gave a little squeal of surprise. I say of surprise, because it was perfectly obvious from the tone of it that it was not a squeal of shock or disapproval!
Her tailpipe was a pretty tight fit, but since I had already coated my cock with petroleum jelly so as to make up for the natural female lubricants that would be lacking, there wasn't any problem of any kind. The tightness just increased the excitement of my frantically hungry cock.
I pulled back and then started to pump, while using one of my hands to stroke and fondle her tits, while the other went down between her legs and fondled her vagina.
"Uncle Damian! I'm being fucked from every direction at once!" she said. And it was perfectly obvious from the way in which the hot little bunny said that that she thought it was perfectly delightful.
It was just about as exciting for me as it can have been for her. I mean, here I was possessing her anally, shoving my cock up and down inside that tight little ass of hers, and at the same time my right hand was full of warm, soft tit, and my left hand, of soft, wet cunt.
Wet's really the word there, too, because I don't think that I've ever come across a female who lubricated up like she did. I mean, there was just pussy fluid dripping everywhere. Down my arms, onto the bed, everywhere!
My cock was really ramming back and forth inside her now, and I knew that I was going to shoot any moment now. Of course, I wanted to get it off at exactly the same time that my cute little niece did, and that was going to require a certain amount of delicate timing.
I continued to finger and fondle her twat, and finally a shudder down there that communicated itself to my hand told me just how close she was to coming. Well, that meant that all I had to do was to get my cock to fire, and then just give her that little bit of extra stimulation that was all that would be required to have her coming too.
One! Two! Three! Four! I felt my cock stiffen up in readiness for its come.
Five! Six! Seven! Eight! I was really right about there!
Nine!
The next one would be it ... TEN!
That was it! I could feel my rod start to spurt, and as I did so, I pressed my finger hard against her throbbing little clit, with the result that she shuddered off into her come at just about exactly the same moment that I hit mine!
Gush! Gush! Gush! This was my first come of the evening, and my balls were really full. They kept shooting their stuff on up into her until I felt like I must surely be filling her ass to the brim.
Her twat was pulsating and trembling against my hand, too, as her body released its sex-overload in a series of convulsive shudders. I could even feel her body shake with the hand I had pressed against her breast.
Then I pulled out and gave her a kiss. "You know, Diana," I said to her, "there's no question about it. You're the hottest little piece that I've ever had."
"Have you fucked lots of women, Uncle Damian?" she asked.
"None as good as you," I replied with what was almost perfect truthfulness.
Of course, I had had sex with women who were a very great deal more experienced sexually than my pretty little niece was. In fact, my wife could certainly be said to be more technically proficient in fucking than Diana was. But mere technical proficiency didn't seem like much compared to the fantastically fresh, natural quality that Diana possessed. I don't mean by that that she seemed all virginal and innocent. I would hardly have been very interested in a girl like that. But there was something new about her, something fresh-minted, that made her a real turn-on for my cock.
She and I fucked very regularly after that, even after Yvonne came home. Of course, Yvonne's presence put a bit of a cramp in our style, since among other things I do have a limited sexual capacity-only a liar would pretend differently about himself-and if I fucked Yvonne three times in a night, I would know that I just wouldn't have anything left over for my niece, either in terms of cock-stiffness or jism.
That, in fact, was how Yvonne tumbled to the fact that there was something going on between her niece and me. You see, even though she's in her forties, like me, Yvonne's very well preserved, and still really-likes prick. That means that she-likes it at all hours of the day, too. Usually, we would fuck in the evening, but Yvonne wouldn't be above wanting it in the morning too.
Now, like I said, I wouldn't be able to service both females in the same night, so that I could only go and visit Diana if I knew that Yvonne didn't want any sex that night. Since even she sometimes found herself anxious to get some sleep instead, this gave me a certain amount of leeway. (By some special piece of fortune, the periods of the two females didn't coincide. So there would be about five days a month when I would know that Yvonne wouldn't be wanting any action out of my prick, and the same amount of time when I wouldn't have to worry about keeping Diana happy. Having two cunts to take care of is a lot of work, by the way.)
Well, a couple of times, Yvonne would indicate to me that she wasn't really interested in sex, even if it didn't happen to be her period. So, then, I'd go and pay a visit on Diana, with the result that my niece's cunt and my cock would end up a great deal happier than they would have otherwise have been.
But then, sometimes, the next morning, I would hear a tap on the door of my bedroom, and who should be there but Yvonne in her negligee, with her shoulders thrown back so as to make the nipples stand out against the filmy fabric? (She has dark colored nipples of which she is extremely proud.)
Of course, it would have been about eight hours since my fucking session with Diana, but nevertheless that fucking session would have included about three comes, so that the edge would certainly be gone from my sexual appetite. Even though in a situation like that I would usually manage to give Yvonne a pretty good bang, the fact that I wasn't interested in letting her have more than one come off of my prick was enough to arouse her suspicions.
So, unknown to me, she began to wonder more and more about my seemingly flagging sexual performance, and began to think of spying on me. (She told me all this later, because we've always been in the habit of being very candid with one another.)
One night, I went to Diana's room and found her still awake and obviously very eager for a come. She had come to know what days represented Yvonne's period, since that always meant an unbroken series of fucks for her, and as a result she had been expecting me.
"Uncle Damian," she said, "you always do all the work when we fuck. How would you like me to take over for a change?"
Coming from such a petite, delicate girl as Diana, there was something almost strange about the suggestion that she take the sexual initiative, but at the same time, it was obvious from the expression on her face that she was perfectly serious, and since one thing that I had learned from fucking with her was that she was very talented in matters that had to do with pricks and cunts, I readily accepted her suggestion.
She asked me to lay down on the bed, and then she straddled me with her legs. I held my quivering cock aloft, knowing that soon it would be feeling the almost unbelievable sensation of being enveloped in a soft, warm cunt.
She lowered her hips down onto me, and then, as soon as her pussy touched the tip of my prick, she stopped and rotated her hips slightly, so as to cause her cunt lips to rub back and forth across her labia. Then, back on down she slid.
I felt the pressure of her labia on my cock-tip, felt them part to admit my rod, and then felt her whole body cover my eager maleness.
She jiggled up and down on my belly a bit, clearly enjoying the feeling of my penis buried so deep inside her. She was a bit of a tease, so instead of starting to pump away on my poor cock, she first just sat there while playing with her tits. She knew how much I liked to fondle and caress them, and so she did all the things that I was particularly keen on doing, like pulling on the nipples, or wetting her finger and giving the swollen little nubs a series of exciting flicks that soon had them even more swollen, impossible though that would seem to be.
Then, after deciding that you could overdo a good thing, even a good thing like teasing your Uncle sexually, she started to work away on my cock.
Up and down she went, with a really steady, regular motion at first, just like she was a metronome. That actually made the action I was getting even more exciting, since I knew just when the next upstroke or downstroke would occur, and found myself waiting for it frantically.
Pump! Pump! Pump! My cock felt so hard that I was a bit surprised that it didn't simply break off inside her body. But it didn't. Instead, it continued to stick up there inside her soft belly, asserting its rampant maleness inside the tender softness of her womanhood!
I felt my breath come in shorter gasps as she continued to work my prick. And her hips were moving faster and faster in their eagerness to build both of us up to a really frantic come!
I felt my cock quiver in excitement as her cunt-skin slid back and forth over it. It just had to come, just had to come, and yet, at the same time, I didn't want this crazy stimulation to ever stop.
"Come! I've got to get it off! Just have to!" I gasped. Diana looked down at me with a sort of indulgent smile. Normally she's a rather passive girl who-likes playing the feminine role to the hilt. But this time, she was in the driver's seat, and she was determined to make the most of it. She was going to bring us off when she was good and ready, and that was all there was to that!
I reached up and cupped her tits in my hand. She's rather short, and my arms are quite long, so I didn't have any trouble at all keeping my fingers on them as she continued to slide her body up and down my eager shaft.
I felt my cock stiffen up for its blast, and I could tell from something about the way her cunt felt that she was ready to get it off too. The only thing that I could do was lie back and enjoy the wonderful sensations that were pouring through my penis. I closed my eyes and abandoned myself entirely to the sense of touch-the touch of her cunt walls around my prick, the touch of her soft tits against my kneading, teasing fingers.
It was like I was in some sort of trance as her sliding hips brought my eager cock the rest of the way up to its come. Then, all of a sudden, my balls shot their wad deep into her pussy!
To be coming like that after hanging fire for so long! Wow! My penis quivered and shook, and the strong spurts of mancream continued to pour into her erupting twat.
She had been pretty calm and collected while building me up to my come, she had given me that friendly, but slightly condescending smile as I had begged for her to bring me off, but now all that was gone, and was replaced by the ele mental, come-hungry female whose body is trembling and heaving to the force of a fantastic orgasm.
We were both so shaken by the comes that we had, that we couldn't say anything for a minute or two. For that matter, we could hardly think for a minute or two. But then, she lifted herself off of my cock, and lay down next to me. One of the things that we most enjoyed, funnily enough, was not the frantic fucking and wild comes, though all that was a lot of fun, of course, but rather the moments of silent tenderness, as we just lay in bed hugging each other tight.
Of course, that hugging usually led to a bit of manipulation and feeling with the hands, and that in turn usually ended up with another frantic fuck. It was a nice combination in every possible way.
After living together for a while, we fucked in the missionary position, and then, since Diana had to go to school the next day, we decided to call it quits for the evening so that she could get a proper amount of sleep. After all. Diana was a growing girl, and needed eight hours of sleep just as much as she needed to have plenty of good hard cock in her cunt.
I walked out her door and closed it quietly behind me. Then, my jaw really dropped open in astonishment. Who do you think was standing there ? Yvonne!
I think I would have said something, would have spluttered out some perfectly ridiculous protestation of innocence, but Yvonne put her finger to her lips in a gesture of silence. Then, she beckoned me to follow her.
One thing about Yvonne, she has a great deal of style. I think that some other woman who suddenly found out that her husband was fucking with their niece would have hit the ceiling, and screamed and made such a fuss that all the servants would have come running. Not Yvonne though. She was cool as a cucumber. Not cold and bitchy, like some women are when they really want to get back at a guy. Just naturally calm and collected.
Back in her room, I sat down on the bed, and she said in the most matter-of-fact way possible, "so as to save you the embarrassment of making all sorts of silly denials that you'll be ashamed of later, let me tell you that I saw everything and know everything."
"Everything?"
"Well, I saw Diana top-ride you, and I can guess the rest. I was looking through the keyhole."
"Why on earth were you doin a thing like that?"
"I like to watch," she said with a smile. I think that underneath she felt pretty hurt and humiliated, but she was sure keeping up a brave front.
Anyway, the rest of the discussion went on in pretty much that tone and that style. She told me about how my lack of sexual interest in her in the mornings had aroused her suspicions-as she put it, "if you were having trouble in the evenings too, I'd have just thought it old age, but it was kind of odd how you only were unable to hack it in the morning, like Dracula"-and how she had gone to investigate that night and seen what was happening through the keyhole. The curtains in Diana's room were very thin, and the moon and the starlight was enough to let her get all the basic details.
She then told me how she was not going to stand for having a rival under the same roof as her, and how she wasn't going to let me corrupt Diana any further. One of the reasons that she hadn't made any scene had been that she thought that that might have a traumatic effect on the girl.
What she was saying was very reasonable, after all, and I had to agree. It was either a matter of agreeing or having a fight that might have ended with a lot of emotional ultimatums and the breaking up of the marriage.
Diana has another aunt besides Yvonne, my brother's sister Lucy. Lucy's sort of an eccentric old maid, but very friendly and-likeable, and very eager for company. When I explained the next day to Diana that she had to move on because Yvonne had discovered what we were up to, she understood perfectly. She's always been a very practical kid, perfectly willing to face up to the consequences of her actions. It so happened that the last day Diana was living with us, Yvonne happened to be out of the house, so we were able to have a fine farewell fuck. I'm convinced that Yvonne left the house on purpose so that we could say goodbye with my cock and Diana's twat. It would be a typical gesture for Yvonne-full of class.
Yvonne has never mentioned the thing with Diana again, and I have every reason to think that she just regards it as a "temporary aberration." Heaven only knows, most of her friends have had their husbands cheat on them at one time or another.
The trouble is that I just can't get Diana out of my mind. Every time I go to sleep, it seems I dream of those delicious little tits of hers, that saucy ass, and most of all, that tight, enveloping cunt!
That's why I came to you, Doctor. I think that I've got to have some kind of professional help if I'm ever going to be able to think of something else besides that lovely little niece of mine.
Mr. G.'s case was a very interesting one, presenting both some of the classic features of incest involvement, and also some idiosyncrasies of its own, many of which stemmed from his high level of sophistication and his elevated social class.
Certainly the details of his seduction are extremely typical. The business about being obsessed with the idea of his niece asleep in bed, and the consummated sex with her pretending to be asleep throughout. I say "pretending" since as it is very un- likely that anyone could sleep through an orgasm, and the whole business of pretending to be asleep or even pretending to sleepwalk, is well known in the literature. (1) The purpose of this kind of charade is that it relieves both partners of a good deal of guilt. The aggressor can always say, "she didn't feel a thing," and the passive partner can convince herself that she really was at least half asleep (note the way in which during the intercourse which followed Diana's "waking up" there continued to be a dreamy tone in her voice). Also, the individuals are spared the rather embarrassing, awkward conversation that we have seen following other cases of consummated incest. All of these advantages are so substantial that "there are several cases of mothers who have drunk themselves into such stupors apparently to make themselves available". (2)
Why, one might wonder, did Diana ever decide to "wake up"? clearly because useful though the sleep pretense-vis as a device it inhibits sexual activity and expression. The aggressor has to be very careful, and the passive partner cannot respond as much as she (or sometimes even he!)
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1. Wilhelm Stekel, Peculiarities of Behavior, New York, I.941, p. 67
2. Masters, op. cit., p. 102
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might wish. Diana obviously had strong sexual desires for her uncle, and wanted to express them openly.
The feature that makes Mr. G.'sd incestuous attachment different from most others is the blas, atmosphere in which it took place. Not blas, in that he wasn't excited sexually-he certainly was-but in that he didn't seem to be at all bothered by the incestuous angle. Nor, for that matter, did his wife, who objected to the fact of having her sexual rival under the same room, and to the harm she believed that her husband was doing to the girl, of whom she appeared to be genuinely fond.
This lack of guilt about incest was also to be seen in Mr. B.'s case, and he was no blas, clubman but a steelworker. Middle class Mrs. F. was convulsed with guilt on the other hand. This rather supports the old dictum that "the upper class and the lower class do all the fucking, and the middle class pays all the taxes." I am not being entirely facetious. Taxes may be a bit out of my line, but I do know that sexual inhibitions often seem to be less among the upper class and the working class. Apparently members of the former don't think that anything they might do could cost them their social position, while the latter have no social position to lose. It is the middle class who feel insecure about their place on the social ladder, and this often manifests itself in extreme sexual inhibition.
None of this really answers the question of why Mr. G. became physically involved with his niece. I asked him to come back for further sessions, and it soon became apparent that all that was really involved was a combination of sexual appetite and sexual boredom. He had never been faithful to his wife, and she doesn't even seem to have expected him to be. There is of course reason to believe that her trips represented a little side action that she was getting for herself.
Coming from a privileged background, Mr. G. was accustomed to getting what he wanted, and what he wanted was plenty of sexual variety. When a nubile young girl moved into the house, it was natural that he should find himself attracted to her.
Another factor that was also present was her youthfulness. People often wish to engage in sexual activities with individuals younger than themselves so as to emphasize to themselves how they are still young. (1) Mr. G. was rather vain about his good looks, and rather anxious to prove to himself that he was still able to "hack it" with a young girl.
Why, one may wonder, did she become such an obsession with him after she left the house? Apparently, because she was the first thing that he had ever wanted and had to give up. Also, the sophisticated, bed-hopping life that he had had left unsatisfied some odd romantic yearnings
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1. Masters, op. cit., p. 87
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buried deep within him. He had an accommodating wife he was fond of, and certainly all of the sex that anyone might want, but there was no real love, and he seems to have sensed that there was an experience there that he was missing out on. Perhaps also, yearning for something hopelessly lost subconsciously fascinated him as a new experience, for his whole life had been one long quest for interesting new experiences.
It was apparent after a few interviews that there were many things about his personality which might have been better corrected, as far as his long term peace of mind was concerned, but there was no really major flaw. He was a charming, somewhat superficial man, and it seemed clear that that was pretty much what he wanted to remain. This is not too surprising, for many patients are afraid that they will somehow be turned into somebody different. Besides, since he lacked any real interest in making major changes in his personality, it is rather un- likely that therapy would have accomplished much, for it is not something for the disinterested to try.
Thus, he decided to resign himself to his longing for the vanished Diana, longing which, he realized after a couple of sessions, he did rather enjoy in some ways. By and large, I would say that his decision not to go into therapy was probably the right one for him.
CASE HISTORY FIVE
Charlotte W. was an attractive redheaded woman in her mid-thirties who wore guilt and anxiety all over her face when she came into my office.
"Doctor," she said, "I just don't know how I'm going to find the strength to tell you all the things that I have on my mind. I've been through an awful lot lately, some of it my own fault, and the idea of having to rehash it all over again is really pretty grim."
"I expect that the idea of having to live it is even grimmer, though," I said.
"That's right," she agreed. "I guess that that's the reason that I decided to come and see you. But making an appointment is a lot different from sitting face to face with someone and 'fessing up to all the filthy, disloyal things that you've done."
"Well, I won't eat you," I said with a smile. With some patients, that sort of vaguely humorous remark is often rather good at putting them at their ease. Mrs. W. did not look very much more relaxed though after I said that.
"You see, Doctor, I'm so ashamed!" she said suddenly, and then she buried her face in her hands and started to sob. I let her cry for a while, because I'm of the opinion that a natural release of emotion like that is often as good for a person as anything that someone else can say.
Finally, when she had herself under control a bit, I said gently, "now Mrs. W., whatever it is that you've done, there are plenty of people who've done just exactly the same thing, that I can promise you. And what's past is past, if you can build a new future for yourself, which is what I'll try and help you do."
There was a bit of hope in her eyes as she looked up, and she said, "I suppose you want every last detail of what happened...."
"Yes."
"Well, all right, I'll try." And she began her story.
The reason I'm so ashamed is that I've done two really awful things. The first is that I fuck with my nephew Andy, and the second is that I've really betrayed my brother by seducing his son like that. He's strict with his child, and I know that he wouldn't ever approve of the fact that Andy and I are always getting it off together. And since he's been so kind to me since everything began to fall apart for me a few months ago, I feel really terrible about what I've been doing while taking advantage of his hospitality and kindness.
I was married to a wonderful man named Greg, and the two of us had a boy who was fourteen, that's just Andy's age. There didn't seem to be a cloud in my sky until Greg and my son Barry were killed in a car crash.
It was like my whole universe had disintegrated, and because my brother Henry guessed that I was pretty close to some kind of complete breakdown, he suggested that I come and live with him and his wife Ruth for a while. They have a big house, and I didn't have any place to live, since Greg and I had been going to move out of our apartment into a house that of course I didn't want and couldn't afford now that he was dead, and our old apartment was already rented.
I knew my brother's family fairly well, though they lived some distance from Greg and me, so it wasn't as if I saw them all the time. They were very, very good to me, really making me feel at home, and telling me that I could stay as long as I liked.
One of the nicest things about staying with them was the presence of Andy. It was almost like having my own son back. The two boys looked a lot alike, and they both had the same kind of personality: kind of shy and retiring, but very polite and considerate.
Andy was kind of a lonely boy, for some reason, even though his parents gave him plenty of love, and the two of us very quickly took a liking to each other. We spent a lot of time talking together and telling jokes, and bit by bit I began to come out of my depression, largely because of the positive influence of Andy on me.
His mother tries very hard, but sometimes she sort of gets on his nerves. She's a very social person, with a million friends and a million activities, and I think she's always been a bit disappointed that her son was so shy and retiring. She was always bugging him to see more people and be more social, and this created a certain element of bitterness between them, because in his own quiet way he really resented her meddling in his private life. So although, as I say, she really loved him, he didn't really feel very close to her. In fact, it became apparent the longer I lived there that he much preferred my company, and much preferred to confide things in me.
At the dinner table once, he mentioned that there was a girl in his class who was really pretty. Anyone who had an ounce of sense could see that he had a terrific crush on the girl, whose name was Jenny, but because he was so shy and retiring, he didn't have the nerve to ask her out or show any interest in her.
His mother should have let well enough alone, since I'm sure that that kind of shyness is mostly just a sort of phase, but instead she kept badgering him to take the girl out.
"It'll do you a lot of good to get out and have some fun," she said. For poor little Andy, "having fun" was sometimes an obligation imposed by his mother.
He didn't say anything, but she kept on at him, alternating nagging with wheedling ("please, for mom's sake, take her out") until he finally agreed. Since the last thing in the world that he would have done would be to go back on his word, this meant that he really felt committed.
He went off to school the next day, looking like some soldier whose going to have to be in the first wave of some assault, but it turned out he did ask the girl to go with him.
In fact, when Saturday came and it was time for his date, he looked as excited as he did scared, and I couldn't help wondering if maybe in this case his mother had been right to be kind of pushy.
She had actually made a disastrous mistake. Andy came home at ten thirty, almost in tears. I was the only person there, since his mother and father were out at a party.
"Gee, you don't look too happy," I said. I didn't want to pry, but at the same time, I couldn't help feeling that he really wanted someone to tell his troubles to.
"Oh, Aunt Charlotte," he said suddenly, "I'm ... I'm not a man!" And then he did burst into tears.
I took him in my arms and held him close.
"What do you mean, not a man? What nonsense! Oh course you're a man."
"No I'm not!" he said between sobs. "That's what Jenny said, after I wasn't able to fuck her!"
"Weren't able to fuck her?" I asked. I was so taken aback by what he had said that it didn't even occur to me to remember that I shouldn't speak like that around boys his age, though of course that's a rather silly rule.
"No," he sobbed. "After the movie, we went to her house, and she started to fondle my prick through my clothes. Then she lifted up her skirt and pulled down her panties, so that I could see her cunt."
"And what happened?"
"My prick got all hard, and she said to me, 'why don't you stick it in me?' The thought of having my prick there inside her cunt really had me excited, too. But when I got on top of her-I think that's how you're supposed to do it-I couldn't find the hole at first. I just kept poking and poking against her, and she laughed and said 'haven't you ever fucked before?' That made me really nervous, because I didn't want to seem inexperienced or anything in front of her, and the more nervous I got, the more my prick started to get soft. And I worried about that, and that made it get even softer."
I could guess all too well the emotional turmoil that the poor boy had been through!
"I finally had it in her hole, but that didn't help, because my prick just got softer and softer. Finally, Jenny said, 'oh, you're hopeless! You might as well take it out, since you aren't a man anyway!'! "
And he started sobbing some more, while continuing to snuggle up against my bosom. It would be just his luck to happen on a little nymphomaniac bitch for his first date.
"Of course you're a man," I said again, "you have a penis, don't you ? "
"But it doesn't work!"
"Of course it works!" I said. But maybe because I could see that my reassurances weren't having much effect, or maybe for some other reason, I found myself reaching out and grabbing hold of his prick through the fabric of his pants.
Somehow, that seemed completely natural, and I continued to squeeze the cock, which got harder and harder.
"See, you can get hard!" I said, but already it was hard for me to concentrate on anything but the feeling of horniness in my pussy. I hadn't had any cock since Greg died, and hadn't thought that I'd ever want any again. But now that I had my fingers on that rod of Andy's, I knew just how much I'd been missing!
My clit was already as hard as a pebble, and my panties were getting wetter and wetter. I just had to do something to put out that fire, and since I wanted to comfort Andy, I knew how I could kill two birds with one stone, though it wasn't all rationally thought out like that.
I unzipped his pants and hauled his rod out. No doubt about it, any trouble he'd had with an erection had to be purely a matter of nervousness, because that cock of his felt like an iron bar between my fingers.
All the while he didn't say anything. He just snuggled closer as I continued to feel up his rod.
I didn't even know what I was doing. All I knew was how badly I wanted that penis of his inside my body! I led him over to the bed in my room and laid him down on it.
"Now I'm going to show you that you're every bit a man. I'm going to teach you how to fuck, so that you'll know twice as much about the subject as someone like Jenny!"
I pulled off my clothes and straddled him. Then, while holding his cock in my hand, I lowered myself over it. Later, it would be necessary to show him how to take the active role, but for the time being, the important thing was proving to him that his cock could stay stiff throughout a fuck.
As I slid down his prick, I gave a little sigh of ecstasy. It seemed so long since I'd last had some good hard cock inside me (and his was hard, too!) that it was almost like a new experience for me to be penetrated by Andy like this. Greg had only died a few weeks before, but when you're doing totally without sex, a few weeks seems like a mighty long time.
After savoring the mere presence of a cock inside my body, I began to slide up and down his shaft, reveling in the feel of my cunt lips being pulled across my clit. I'd beaten off since Greg's death, but no hand job, no matter how good, can possibly compare with having real man-meat inside you.
Up and down I went, up and down, up and down. My plan was working perfectly. Because I was doing all the sexual motions, he felt relieved of all responsibility. That meant that he wasn't worrying about the stiffness of his prick, since it was almost as if he trusted me to do whatever would be necessary to keep it hard.
I bent over slightly so that my tits hung out over him within reach of his hands. I figured that a bit of tit-fondling would be a good half-way step towards his assuming a more active role in sex, and it would be nice for me, too, since my tits are extremely sensitive.
He took the cue without a moment's hesitation, and soon I was sliding up and down, or rather, more forward and back, while he pressed my globes against my chest and fingered the nipples. I have rather large nipples anyway, Doctor, but when they swell up they get really huge, and I could see that Andy was really fascinated by them. Either Jenny hadn't given him a chance to look at her nipples, or hers weren't as interesting as mine, judging from the attention that my tits were getting.
The action down below our belts was what really counted, though, and judging from the stiffness of his cock, I was doing a good job on his penis. I was sure getting my cunt all cranked up! The labia felt like it could hardly bear to brush against the clit one more time, but of course I kept making sure that they continued to do so.
Up! Down! Forward! Back! I felt my body get tenser and tenser, felt my breath come with increasing difficulty, and I knew that I was working my way up to one hell of a come.
My pussy was soaking wet, now, and the hard rod was coated with so much of my female lubrication that I could slide up and down as fast as I wanted, without there being any problems of any kind.
The only problem was whether I'd be able to keep my sanity until I came. The tantalizing sensations in my pussy were almost more than I could bear.
"Aunt Charlotte! You make my cock feel so good!" Andy gasped.
I was almost there, and I tensed some more in readiness for the final blast off.
One! Two! Three!
How much longer could this go on? How much freaking longer?! Four! Five! Six!
And then, suddenly, my pussy ripped loose with a frantic burst of come spasms that felt like they were going to shake my body apart.
"Ahh! Ahhh! AHHHHHH!" I gasped, as I felt my pelvis buck and heave in time to the pulsations that were rippling through my cunt!
And Andy was coming too, with his cock, that cock that he'd thought was so unmanly, shooting gush after gush of boycream up into me!
"I'm a man!" he gasped as he felt the jism pour out of his cock into me. "I'm a man!"
"Of course you're a man," I said softly as the spasm left us, "and it was silly of you to ever doubt it. Never doubt yourself, Andy, not ever."
He looked up at me with a gaze of pure admiration. Whatever else one has to say about incest, this time I'd really done someone a good turn. I'd given Andy back his manhood, and one aspect of the whole business that made me feel good was the simple fact that I had been useful. After living with Henry and his wife as a sort of emotional charity case for several weeks, you can't imagine how good it was to be a source of emotional strength and comfort to someone else for a change.
Of course, those weren't the only emotions that I was feeling. I couldn't help wondering about the incestuous angle of the whole business, but I was fighting hard to keep from worrying about that, maybe because I considered that I still had a job to do, namely give Andy a strong sense of his own manhood!
I didn't want to overtax his abilities, since a second failure that evening would have been a terrible blow to him, maybe even more terrible than the one with Jenny, since he would have been inclined to think that if he couldn't fuck successfully with someone understanding and helpful like his Aunt Charlotte, he probably couldn't fuck with anyone at all.
Besides, his mother and father were often going out in the evenings, so there wasn't any problem about finding time to be together.
In fact the two of them had another party scheduled for the next night-I think my brother Henry finds all this social life a bit of a burden, but he dotes on his wife and knows how she loves it-so it was going to be possible for me to follow up lesson one right away with lesson two.
That night, as I lay in bed thinking of how I had just top-ridden my nephew, my head was really in a whirl. On one hand, I was really proud of the help I had given him. If it hadn't been for it, he might have ended up with some kind of permanent doubts about his manliness. And that in turn could have caused him to have potency problems for the rest of his life. I was glad to have helped avert a tragedy like that, and to have undone some of the harm that his mother had caused.
At the same time, the idea of fucking with your nephew really does seem kind of unnatural and weird, doesn't it? And it's not as if Andy were the sort of nephew that you never hear from except at Christmas, or something like that. He and I had grown very close emotionally while I had been staying there, and it was almost as if he were my own son. Certainly, I imagined that I could do a better job of raising him than my sister in law, who meant well but often made dumb mistakes, like the one she made by pushing him into that date he wasn't emotionally ready for yet.
I was so confused that I tossed and turned for the rest of the night. And the thing was that the guilt and depression gradually got the upper hand, too, so that when I got up the next morning, I really felt kind of low. I would have been very tempted to call it quits with Andy's sexual education, but it was too late for that now. Before leaving him the night before, I had told him that the lessons would be continuing the next day, and if I announced to him that I had simply changed my plans, it seemed certain that he would feel terribly rejected, and guess that I didn't want to fuck with him because his performance of the night before had been poor. Not that there would have been a shred of truth in that idea, since his performance had been fine, and if I was hesitant to fuck with him again, it was because of guilt at the incestuous aspect of things. But his ego needed a lot of boosting at the moment, and I could see how easy it would be for him to get the wrong idea.
As the day wore on, though, and Henry and his wife started to think about getting dressed to go out, I became more and more excited about the prospect of doing some more fucking with Andy, and less and less bothered by the moral questions involved.
by the time Henry and Ruth had gone out the door, my clit was already hard in anticipation, and my panties good and soggy.
"What are we going to do now, Aunt Charlotte?" Andy asked.
"Well, since you did such a fine job last night," I said, "I thought that maybe you could graduate onto something that would involve you doing a bit more of the work."
It was obvious that just the success of the night before had immeasurably increased his self confidence, because he didn't seem at all fazed by this suggestion of mine, despite the fact that it was while "doing a bit more of the work" that he had failed so disastrously with Jenny.
I lay back on the bed with my legs spread, while Andy gazed rapturously at my cunt. It was obvious that the thing fascinated him with its pink lips and tufts of hair. It sure fascinated his prick, at any rate, because that thing of his was about as stiff as a board.
"Okay," I said, "climb aboard!"
He did so, and I instructed him on how to put his cock into my vagina. In fact, I didn't think that he really needed all this advice, but it seemed to me that he might find it reassuring to have me give it anyway. He wouldn't feel on his own and totally responsible for what was going on. And that would seem to be what had caused the trouble with Jenny.
He positioned the tip of his rod against the entrance to my cunt, and then slid on it.
"You're doing fine," I said to him. "Now, just move it back and forth inside me!"
He did so, and I could see after a couple of strokes that he was going to get the hang of it without any trouble at all.
He was already picking up speed, and every thrust of his rod had a more and more self-assured feel to it. His discovery of the night before that he was indeed a man was obviously having its effect.
And his cock was certainly having an effect on me! Those strokes were really pretty darn nice, and the way they pulled my labia back and forth across my clit was turning me on more and more every second.
"Really nice, Andy," I said, "really nice!" And I was being a hundred per cent sincere when I said that. He could detect the note of sincerity in my voice, and of course that increased his self-confidence all the more, so that his strokes became even more assertive and exciting!
His hands were on my tits, and he was really giving my globes a workout, too. He was pressing them against my chest, moving them from side to side, pinching the nipples, and doing all those other things that a guy can do to make a woman's breasts feel nice.
There could be no doubt about it, he was really pretty talented! The way in which he was using his cock was turning my pussy on to beat hell. In fact, I knew that if this went on much longer, I'd be coming in one of the biggest and best comes that I'd ever had!
Imagine that bitch Jenny saying that he wasn't a man!
In! Out! In! Out! His rod slid back and forth on my cunt-juices.
Buck! Buck! Buck! He was going faster and faster now, really working up speed, really pumping.
"Andy! Andy! Andy!" I grunted in time to his thrusting pelvis. I don't know what I wanted to say. All I knew was that I wanted to say something, wanted to somehow express my fantastic come-need!
Cock! Cunt! Cock! Cunt!
Building up ... building up ... building up....
I couldn't stand it any more. I just had to come! Just had to come, but whether by accident or innate talent, he was keeping me right on the edge of my come, driving me out of my mind with come need but also turning me on to beat hell!
"Gotta ... gotta ... gotta....
I think what I wanted to say was that I had to come, but somehow the words just wouldn't come out properly.
And then suddenly, I was coming, and I mean really coming hard, with all the coiled up energy in my body suddenly pouring through me in spasm after spasm of pure female joy!
Come! Come! Come! My cunt was really gripping at his cock, almost as if it were trying to keep it from ever being taken out again, and judging from the way that cock was spewing and gushing, sending spurt after spurt of spunk up into me, I guess that it felt right at home too!
"You want to know something?" I said weakly after my cunt had finally quieted down a bit.
He looked at me nervously, as if he were afraid that I was going to make some criticism of his technique.
"You're just fantastic," I added. He could tell that I was telling the truth, that this wasn't some meaningless bullshit compliment, and as a result it really bucked him up to hear me say it.
It was true, too. He didn't have all the finesse of a really experienced cocksman, but there was a tremendous vigor and straightforwardness about his fucking that was just fantastically appealing.
"Let's rest a bit," I suggested. He went and got a couple of cokes for us, and we sat and chatted.
"Are there a lot of different positions, Aunt Charlotte?" he asked.
"Oh, there are a million of them," I said, "but they all tend to be variations of the same thing. There are books that you can get that say what they are, but it isn't something that you can't figure out for yourself. You've done the missionary just now, and I top-rode you last night. Tonight before your parents get home, we can sixty-nine if you'd like, and then maybe you can give me a dog-style fuck tomorrow. That just about covers all the basic stuff. If you can do those, you can do enough to make just about any cunt you're liable to come across pretty happy."
After we finished our Cokes, I asked him if he would like to sixty-nine.
"That's where I suck on your prick and you lick my pussy," I said. "Think that sounds like fun?"
The look on his face indicated just how much fun he thought that that would be. He was clearly all rested up and raring to go after that first fuck (now that I'd seen him do his stuff a bit more I was certain that he was a two-shot man), so there was no reason not to get down to business.
I placed myself on the bed facing in one direction, and he got on facing in the other, as according to my instructions. I took hold of his cock in my hand and said "hope you enjoy this." Then I slipped the organ in my mouth and began to suck on it energetically.
It was a really nice prick, good and long, almost as big as a man's, as a matter-of-fact, despite the fact that the owner was just a boy. The knob on the end was fleshy and a sort of pink. The rest of the shaft was paler, with blue veins standing out on it. His balls were pretty exciting too, seeing as they were pulled up in easy reach and seemed to be just begging for me to lick and kiss them, or maybe take them into my mouth and suck on them.
That was just what I did, and then I put my mouth back over the prick itself and slid my lips back and forth along the length of the shaft.
Slurp! Slurp! Slurp! I knew he was trying to pay me back for the pleasant sensations that I was causing his rod, there could be no doubt about the fact that he was succeeding. That tongue of his seemed to know by instinct where all of my most tender female spots were, and really home in on them. It grazed my clit a couple of times so that I was right on the brink of my come. Then it ran back and forth inside my cunt until my whole body was trembling like a tuning fork with its need to blast off in a frantic come.
I sucked around the base of his prick for a while, and then I transferred my attention to the spot where the knob joined the shaft. Judging from the response that that got-a long shudder that ran through his body-he obviously found that pretty nice.
That cock of his was getting stiffer every second, despite the fact that when I had started it had already been so hard that I didn't see how it could possibly get any harder, I could tell that it was going to be coming soon, and that was fine with me, because the way that tongue of his was slurping back and forth all over my pussy, I knew that my own come couldn't possibly be far off.
Then, suddenly, I sensed that my cunt was about to let go with its come. I pressed my lips as hard as I possibly could against the knob of Andy's prick, with the result that it started to spew at just exactly the same instant that my pussy suddenly felt itself flood with pulsation after pulsation of come-ecstasy.
Splat! Splat! Splat! The spunk gushed against the back of my mouth while I continued to suck on the quivering instrument. And all the while, my pelvis was bucking and heaving, and he was keeping his mouth glued to my vagina.
I figured that even though two fucks in a night was easily within Andy's scope, it would probably be best not to push our luck by trying for three until his self confidence was really firmly anchored. Mind you, it was in pretty good shape already. But I didn't want to risk my great work of emotional rehabilitation without having a chance to put the finishing touches on it.
The next thing on the program, (since I was basically following the idea that the best way to build Andy's sexual self-confidence was to teach him all the major positions, so that he wouldn't feel inferior and insecure when he met someone like Jenny) was a dog-style fuck and we only ha( to wait a couple of nights for his parents to be out again, enabling us to have our fill of fucking together without fear of being disturbed.
I explained to him briefly what was involved, and then got onto my hands and knees on the bed. He climbed up behind me, and began by stroking my back and the nape of my neck. Then, he placed the tip of his cock just inside the entrance to my pussy and waited a second, so as to tease me, I guess. There could be no question about it, this kid really did have natural talent when it came to fucking, and I was proud to have played a role in bringing it out into the open.
He patted my ass gently, and then slid his penis into me. Every time I feel a cock glide on into me, it's almost like its the first time, the sensation is so nice. For a woman there can't be anything to compare with the sensation of having some good, hard man-meat inside you.
After sliding his tool all the way in, he waited just another split second before pulling out again and then beginning to pump away.
Even in the first fuck where he had been responsible for the sexual movements, he had shown how much he could learn in a rather short time.-Well, here was the fruits of that learning! He was laying his cock into me in wonderful, long, steady strokes which told me just how confident he was of his maleness and of his ability to bring pleasure to a woman's twat. He'd come a long way since that time not yet a week ago when he had thrown himself into my arms and sobbed out how he was "not a man!"
In! Out! In! Out!
Nice-and-steady! Nice and steady! Nice-and-steady! Talk about having good rhythm! I found my hips giving little counter-thrusts in time to his main heaves, and the result was that my pussy was getting all the action that a pussy could possibly want!
Buck! Buck! Buck! That prick of his was driving my cunt wild, and at the same time, incidentally, those hands of his were driving my tits even wilder, it seemed.
I had never given him any advice in how to play with a woman's tits when you're taking her dog-style, but it was something that he seemed to have worked out for himself. He took hold of my nipples and pressed the tits against my chest, before letting them flop down. Then he pulled them in opposite directions, and let them flop together. All of that was very, very exciting, for some reason or another.
And more exciting than anything else was the feel of that rod in my cunt as it bucked and heaved away.
I was gasping and panting in time to his thrusts now, reveling in the feel of his hard dick penetrating me, possessing me!
IN! OUT! IN! OUT!
I was almost at my come-threshold. Just a bit longer ... just a bit....
And then he drove home in one great big final thrust that had my twat really exploding around his cunt, really bursting into a wild display of fuck fireworks.
"Andy! I'm COMING!" I gasped as I felt tremor after tremor race through my agonized vagina. And of course he was coming too, sending his spunk shooting up into me, gushing away, emptying the contents of his balls into the vagina of his beloved Aunt Charlotte!
Gush! Gush! Gush! For a moment I didn't think that he was ever going to stop, though of course for a moment I hadn't been sure that my pelvis was ever going to stop bucking and jerking, either. He just seemed to have a limitless amount of spunk in those balls of his.
After we had rested up a bit, I thought that I might as well finish up my little course in fucking by showing him something a little unusual, namely a fuck in a chair.
"The girl does the sexual movements," I explained, "but the position is sufficiently offbeat for you to probably be able to impress any girl you're with by instructing her in how to do this particular fuck."
There was a desk in my room with a small chair that went under it when not in use. The chair didn't have any arms, and that meant that it was just right for my purpose.
"Okay, Andy," I said, "why don't you sit there."
He did so, and I placed myself with a foot on either side of him. Then I sat down on his prick, while facing him.
The feeling as I lowered myself onto his meat was a little bit like the one you get when you're going to do a regular top-ride, but the difference here is that your face is a lot closer to your partner's, and your tits are much easier for him to get at.
After settling down comfortably on his prick, I started to raise and lower myself, pushing up by unbending my legs, since my feet were resting on the floor on either side of the chair throughout the fuck.
The feeling of that cock sliding in and out of me was pretty fine, and this position puts a lot less strain on the legs than the regular top-riding one does. I couldn't for the life of me think why I hadn't used this position more often than I had.
He certainly liked it. Even as I moved my body up and down over his shaft, he continued to suck on my right nipple, which he was able to manage by pulling my rather floppy breast up slightly.
Up! Down! Up! Down! The position was exciting for Andy because it was so new, and it was a real turn-on for me too, seeing as I'd almost forgotten about it, and now was savoring the joys of re-discovery.
My cunt was really gripping at his rod as I continued to slide up and down. I could feel that I was building up fast to my come, and that it was going to be big when it finally hit me. For some reason, when I'm fucking I can predict just what my come is going to be like.
That rod of his was about as stiff as a poker. That bitchy little Jenny to one side, there could be no doubt at all of the masculinity of my nephew!
Pump! Pump! Pump! Pump! My twat was really blazing, and there was a sort of tingling that kept crawling up and down my spine as I continued to work his cock.
Then, I knew that I was right on the brink of my come. I moved on up his shaft very slowly, and then waited there a tantalizing second before coming on down again, really quite fast.
I guess that I had slid about a third of the way down his boy-pole when suddenly the first shock wave of the come hit me, followed by another and another in very quick succession. I sat there in his lap, feeling my cunt explode with fuck-frenzy, and all the while his penis was splattering the insides of my womanhood with its semen.
That was all the fucking that we did that evening, and in a sense my course of instruction was successfully concluded. I had taught Andy the most important positions, and in doing so I had also managed to completely restore his sense of masculinity and potency. But somehow I never got around to calling it quits on the sexual action. I thought of doing so, and in fact after discussing it with Andy, we even agreed to stop fucking altogether, but every time his mother and father headed out the door to one of those parties that she was so keen on, my panties would start to get damper and damper, and if Andy was in sight, I'd notice that there was a very pronounced bulge in the front of his pants. And in a few minutes, there we are fucking again. And to make matters worse, my sense of guilt, which wasn't too great at first, has now gotten really huge, so that I'm obsessed with the idea that I should stop fucking with my nephew. But it seems like I'd never have the willpower to manage a thing like that, Doctor, and that's why I've come to you for help.
There can be no doubt that the basic cause of Mrs. W.'s incestuous involvement was the death of her husband and son in a car crash. At one swoop, she was deprived of the two people closest to her, and this of course was a thoroughly traumatic experience.
When people suffer a great loss, a process sometimes takes place which we psychologists call denial. The individual seeks to deal with the situation by simply fantasizing it out of existence. The fantasy can be largely conscious, or in the present case, it can be highly sublimated.
Mrs. W. lost her husband and her son. Any successful denial of this fact would have to involve finding some sort of replicas, since otherwise her loneliness and emotional isolation would remind her of the loss which she has in fact suffered and which she very much wishes to forget, i.e., put into the subconscious.
In Andy, she was able to find a substitute for both the males who had vanished from her life. He physically resembled her dead son. like him, he was shy and courteous, which meant that the behavior which was appropriate for the old son would probably be suitable for the new one too.
As a relatively young woman, she also had sexual desires, so any replacement for her husband that she might have found would have to be able to satisfy her sexually. But a series of co-incidences led to her having sexual relations with Andy, her new son-substitute. Thus, he became a husband substitute as well, and her process of denial could proceed effectively.
The reader must understand that when I talk about denial, I do not mean that the individual actually convinces himself that something which is so is not. That does take place, but is highly pathological, and usually requires institutionalization, since it means that the individual has lost effective touch with reality. The kind of denial going on with Mrs. W. was a much milder version of this.
It might seem that Mrs. W. had found an effective way of killing two birds with one stone. She was now getting the emotional companionship that the car accident had robbed her of, and she was also getting sexual fulfillment.
The only trouble was that her new situation exposed her to guilt from several sides at once. In the first place, there was the old society-instigated incest guilt. But linked with this was also guilt at having betrayed her brother's kindness, and also, deep in the subconscious, a guilt at having replaced her real husband and son with this substitute.
The mind has many ways of dealing with guilt, and so it is not at all uncommon for it to only gradually break through to the surface and fully manifest itself. But when it does, the individual can end up thoroughly miserable, as Mrs. W. clearly was when she came into the office.
To have suggested that Mrs. W. simply abstain from sex with Andy would have been a foolish course of action, since the needs that were being met by her use of him as a replacement son/husband would have still been there except that now they would have gone totally unmet.
Instead, it was the obvious job of therapy to help Mrs. W. adjust to the loss of her husband and son. Once this was accomplished, and it was a long and difficult task, she no longer needed the surrogate son/husband, and her interest in Andy began to taper off. What remained, then, was to take care of the rest of the guilt that was bothering her, guilt at what she had done in the past (i.e., violation of incest taboo, betrayal of her brother's hospitality, etc.).
The whole process was quite arduous, but in the long run it paid off handsomely. She resigned herself to the fact of her tragic loss, and sought out a new sexual partner who was not related to her and hence not a source of future guilt. Since Andy was spreading his sexual wings more and more each day, and taking an increasing interest in girls his age now that he was not afraid of being sexually incompetent in their presence, his Aunt's decision to finally terminate sexual activity with him did not come as any kind of blow.
CONCLUSION
We have now reached the end of this little study of incest in the modern American family, and several things should by now be clear to the reader, at least if this book served the purpose intended.
First of all, he should see that although "incest" is a convenient word with which to describe a particular range of sexual behavior, it would be a great mistake to assume that it is itself somehow a mental or emotional disorder, a homogeneous entity, if you will.
In all the cases above, the incestuous behavior was essentially a symptom, a means by which the individual subconsciously dealt with certain tensions in his life.
These tensions varied quite widely in their nature, but some seemed to be prevalent quite frequently. Sexual deprivation, for instance, was causal in all cases except for that of Mr. G., who was apparently quite satisfied with his wife as a bed partner. And just as important as sexual deprivation for most of the people whose stories are given above is the emotional deprivation which they were suffering from. They had lost someone close, or their spouses didn't like them, or in some other way they feel unwanted and unloved.
To such a person, a member of the immediate family can offer very welcome relief. He or she is "safe" emotionally. The individual knows just exactly where he stands, for he has had a long period of time over which to learn the other person's responses.
Also, in many cases of incest, the object-choice is substantially younger than the aggressor relative. That means that he is less threatening to the female who subconsciously fears the male organ, and less- likely to say no to a proposition which comes his way. This last fact is important, because as the reader will have seen, most of the patients whose cases are given here have very low self-esteem.
At any rate, the response of the therapist should be to identify the underlying causes of the incestuous behavior. It should be borne in mind that he is doing this not to try and stop the incestuous activity, but because he is aware that for something as potent as the incest taboo to be broken, the psychological pressures behind the behavior must be very intense indeed.
Where, it might be wondered, does all this leave the famous incest taboo? The reader is free to make his own conclusions, but I for one find it hard to imagine that someone could read the account set down in the preceding pages and end up still believing that much good is done by our culture's blanket condemnation of incestuous acts.
It is true that incest carried on regularly within the family can be a disruptive force. But as Masters puts it, "absolute horror of an act is not essential as a deterrent to that act." Our society's prejudice against, say adultery, is far less strong than the incest taboo, but incest is presumably no more likely to cause tensions in the family than adultery is.
At the moment, incest is a crime in every state in the union, and while I am somewhat inclined to believe that I am not qualified to talk about the law, I do know as a practicing psychologist that the harm inflicted on so-called "incest offenders!" but the guilt which society insists on attributing to their acts must outweigh any possible good that society could derive from maintaining the incest taboo.
After all, the people who violate this hoary prohibition are just that-people. The reader has met them in the foregoing pages, and presumably has seen how with their strengths and weaknesses, their good qualities and their foibles, they are every bit as human as he is himself. And that being the case, we must ask ourselves how we really think that other people should be treated any rate, anyone who voluntarily chooses to feel-with contempt and hatred, or with compassion and understanding? As far as I am concerned, at contempt and hatred is suffering from emotional problems greater than those of the people presented in this book.
BIBLIOGRAPHY
Bonaparte, Marie, Female Sexuality, New York, 1953 (trans.) Freud, Sigmund, Civilization and its Discontents, New York, 1930 (trans.) Freud, Sigmund, Totem and Taboo, New York, 1934 (trans.) Gordan, L., "Incest as a Revenge against the Pre-
Oedipal Mother" in Psychoanalytical Revue, 52: 284-292 (July 1955) Henry, George W., M.D., All the Sexes, New York, 1955
Hornev, Karen, M.D., Feminine Psychology, New York, 1967
Karpman, Benjamin, The Sexual Offender and his Offenses, New York, 1954
Kaufman, 1., et al., "The Family Constellation and Overt Relations Between Father and Daughter", American Journal of Orthopsychiatry, 240: 266-279 (April, 1954)
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London, L. S., M.D., Sexual Deviations in the Fe-ual Deviations, Washington, 1950 male, New York, 1957
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