Incest. The very word for this ancient and yet "forbidden" form of sex conjures up many images. There is the image of the incest committed in many chapters in the Bible and there is the image of illicit sex shared between daughters and fathers as well as mothers and sons. Similarly, there is the recurring image in Greek, Roman and early Christian mythology in which blood relatives often enjoyed conjugal unions with each other.
Yet there is another aspect to incest. There is the "taboo" of incest. No form of sex between consenting humans is quite so repugnant to our modern ethic and morality than the incestuous form. Incest is condemned by churches, state laws and almost every form of morality and ethic practiced in Europe and the United States. And yet, despite all that exists to discourage and proscribe the occurrence of incest, incest continues to exist. It continues to occur, usually between consenting partners of close blood relation. Somehow the urge to commit incest transcends all the social prohibitions placed upon it. It is the goal of this volume to examine this socio-sexual phenomenon and perhaps answer that very large question which continues to loom about incest: why?
Why does incest exist? Why despite all of the countless prohibitions and acquired negative attitudes toward incest does the practice continue? There are two possible avenues for explanation.
The first possible explanation deals with the affairs of the flesh. That is, incest is explained in terms of proximity and physical desire. A mother, for example, might reveal herself as a fully sexual adult human being, but this aspect of a mother's nature might always have been lost upon a son. That is, the relationship between that mother and son might always have been that of the traditional mother-son relationship. Yet something might occur to change that relationship. A son might discover his mother in a particularly revealing bathing suit. Or, as in a case cited by Dr. Allen Levin-son in Further Aspects of Psycho-sexual Learning, a son might happen to see up his mother's skirt and for the first time see pubic hair.
In such cases the physical feelings which might have always been repressed (see Freud on "repression," a reference to follow in the summation of case history one) might be allowed to take hold of both the mind and body. That is, the physical sexual urge would countermand the acquired feeling that incest is illicit and forbidden. Physical desire would rule and the act of incest would occur.
In this volume, however, we will attempt to move away from this initial school of analyzing incestuous sexual patterns. In fairness, if the reader would wish to consider more of this first form of psycho-sexual analysis, he might consider the acknowledged definitive textbook of the behaviourist school of psychoanalysis, Behaviorism by Dr. John Watson.
In this volume we will consider more of the psychological aspects of incest rather than dwelling on the physical and behavioristic aspects of the act. We begin with the postulated concept that all human beings act and are motivated (See Pavlov on Motivations and Response) not so much out of a purely carnal desire but rather out of deeper psychological needs and desires, most of which reach far into the psyche. It is our object then in these following pages and case histories not to deal so intensely with the physical reasons why an act of incest was committed, but rather to examine the psychological reasons why such actions occurred.
We have taken for our study the actual interviews which were held with five people who engaged in mother-son acts of incest. We will consider the words of three mothers and two sons who engaged in such acts. These people were selected because of their candor in frankness in the discussion of their acts. These five people similarly were chosen out of the scores who were interviewed on account of their representing a cross-section of the basic reasons why incest is committed. I believe that if the reader will study the words of these five subjects and consider the psychological conclusions drawn at the termination of each case history, the reader will be led to a fuller understanding of why human beings will resort-despite all the existing prohibitions-to that most forbidden and taboo form of sex: incest.
It would not be possible, of course, in such short an expanse as two hundred pages to come to an authoritative conclusion on the entire topic of incestuous sexual intercourse. That is why we have limited ourselves in these pages to a consideration of mother-son incest, the form of incest which is perhaps the most prevalent in contemporary America. And yet even as we limit our discussion to just this narrow stretch of the broader field, we can only come to our conclusions and consider them in relation to all the other research projects which have ever treated the subject of incest.
There has been, for example, much in the way of historical records of incest as well as literary and mythological references to similar acts, specifically between mothers and sons. Such relationships, as we will see momentarily, were common among the ancient civilizations in both folklore and in actual recorded fact. Similarly as recently as the last century some of the declining royal families of Europe openly practiced incestuous marriages in the hopes of purifying their own royal families. Obviously, the result which was obtained was the opposite of what was intended. Many of the best known families in Europe suffered badly from the mental degenerations of inbreeding. Incestuous marriages only hastened the decline of their families, rather than prolonging their reigns. More than one such family bore the burden of inbred idiot offspring. At least one reigning Austrian monarch was totally infirm due to inbreeding.
We should note at this juncture that much of the modern prohibitions upon incest have been derived from the most basic urge of all societies. That is, most societies have as their primal functions the goal of self-survival and self-perpetuation. That is, to define further, it is the goal of each society to simply continue as a cohesive society. Incest, and the inbreeding which is the biological and rational result of incestuous sexual unions, would quickly ruin the society which wishes to perpetuate itself.
This is a minor point which is in fact self-explanatory. It will suffice here to simply state that an inbred society will simply not be able to endure. It will not last past one or two generations.
Thus, in the interest of preservation certain societies, the incest taboo has been continued into modern times. Even in societies where there are moral, ethical or religious restrictions against the practice of incest, incest is banned for reasons of its biological consequences.
These concepts, however, date back at least several hundred years. They antedate, therefore, the advent of modern birth control devices, devices which render these prejudices and concepts obsolete because these devices have removed the fear and risk of unwanted pregnancies.
Yet the restrictions against incest remain. Interestingly, while the biological and practical reasons not engage in incest have been removed, the restrictions against incest have not been removed, This is a matter which is quite germane to our discussion of incest because this lesson shows us how society has continued to ban incest purely for moral and ethical and religious reasons which no longer have any basis in medical or biological reason. The incest restrictions and taboos in western society exist simply because they always have existed. The taboos against incest, which Sigmund Freud approached thoroughly in his essay entitled Totem and Taboo, exist because society has always learned them from previous generations. We have become conditioned in our response (indeed, in our negative response) to incest. And the taboo against incestuous sexual unions continues because we are unable to "deprogram" our responses from what we have learned from previous generations.
Yet it is obvious that we have learned these responses to incest. Obviously these responses didn't always exist within our minds. If we approach the incest problem from an anthropological point of view we can look back to the Cro-Magnon, Neanderthal or Java man. Anthropologists have told us much about these early ancestors of modern man. Anthropologists have told us that this man would satisfy himself with whatever female was nearest: be that female his sister, aunt or mother. This man, in a pre-primitive paleolithic society had no concept of "wife." Thus the sexual desire was merely a desire to be fulfilled in whatever way possible. Just as his thirst would be satisfied with the nearest water and just as his hunger would be satisfied by the nearest food, his sexual desire would be satisfied by the nearest female. Early mankind would not have worried about having sex with his own mother. Nor, it is probably, would such an early man have even recognized his own mother.
It was probably not until early man began to cluster together in primitive forms of society that the incest taboo began to develop. Interestingly enough, such anthropologists as have researched primitive "stone age" tribes as exist today in Australia and New Zealand have seen how even in these so-called underdeveloped tribes the taboo of incest seems to exist. It would logically follow then that the taboo against incest is an almost innate sense which a society develops just as soon as it begins to function as a society. But it is equally worthy of note, that some of our more illustrious early societies-i.e., the Romans and the Egyptians as well as the more erudite and sophisticated Greeks-did not take such a negative view of incest. In many cases they practiced it openly. And we have testament today that their pantheon of gods, reflecting the morals of the men who created the gods, was not adverse to practicing incest, either.
The earliest known mythology, for example, is Egyptian mythology. One of the best known tales from the Egyptians involves the goddess of the sky who married and had an incestuous union with her twin brother. Similarly, Egyptian mythology cites for us the case of two twin sisters who married their own twin brothers. These four sibling, however, were only following in their divine family footsteps. They were all, according to the ancient Egyptian myth, the offspring of an incestuous union between a mother and her own devoted son.
The instances of incest within Egyptian mythology are numerous, but Greek and Roman is equally abundant with similar examples. Both Greek and Roman mythology, for example, have at their very basis the existence of Zeus as the god of all gods and the king of the universe. Yet even Zeus himself was a practitioner of incest. Not only did Zeus marry his own sister, Hera, but Zeus also raped and married and bore children by his own mother, Rhea. Obviously the Greeks and Romans were concerned with incest to have attributed so much of it to the highest ranking member of their pantheon. And obviously incest could not have been held in low esteem if such an august mythological figure as Zeus committed it so often.
History, in fact, proves that the Greeks and Romans sought to emulate the incestuous practices of their gods. The Roman emperor Caligula, for example, married his own sister. Similarly, Caligula mused frequently upon the idea of having sex with his own mother.
And since Caligula was the first emperor of Rome other emperors and noblemen sought to equal his example. Roman history is interspersed frequently with instances of emperors making love to their own mothers and occasionally even marrying them. Interesting enough, little mention is made of the fathers of such men except in cases where it is noted that such fathers were content to have sex with their own young daughters.
It is very easy to draw an analogy from ancient Greek and Roman mythology to modern practical psychology. It is as simple as mentioning two names. Oedipus and Freud.
We are all familiar with the myth of Oedipus as told in the writings of Socrates. Oedipus, of course, murdered his father and unknowingly married his mother. But the advent of modern psychology would not simply allow this myth to remain unanalyzed. Freud postulated that this action on the part of Oedipus was merely an enactment of some very basic human desires, i.e., the desire on the part of each male to make love to his own mother.
Freud developed this concept in his Basic Writings and an interesting modern interpretation of Freud's Basic Writings can be found in Dr. John W. Edgewater's recently published work entitled A New Approach to Freudian Psychoanalysis. In any event, however, the Freudian concept of the Oedipus complex is one of the most basic concepts of modern psychology. And since the concept of the Oedipus complex involves sexual activity between sons and mothers, it is an integral concept in our understanding of the five case histories which will follow here shortly.
Briefly, we should review this concept. In the original telling of the myth, in which Oedipus unknowingly killed his father and married his mother, the incestuous union between Oedipus and his mother was a fulfillment of both a curse and a prophecy on the part of the gods. In the later tellings of the myth, however, including the Sophoclean telling which we are familiar with, the incest taboo had been learned by the civilized Greeks. Thus Oedipus, horrified at the act of incest he had committed, put out one of his eyes as a self-imposed punishment for his own actions. Perhaps ever since that day when Oedipus first felt he should suffer and repent for the incest he had committed, there has been a stigma to incest. Many people who commit it feel deep guilt afterwards. They feel that they, too, like Oedipus should suffer, although perhaps not quite as dramatically.
Thus we have come to two more important concepts which involve mother-son incest. Guilt and repenting. I myself do not feel that incest is a particularly good idea, even for those patients of mine-and there are many of these-for whom incest has been a purely pleasurable experience. There are too many social pressures upon most people against the commission of incest for the normal man or woman not to be in some way affected. My point is that although incest may last pleasurably for several weeks, months or even years, there is a heavy risk that in some future day one of those involved with the incestuous union would feel deep pangs of regret and remorse over his or her previous sexual activity.
It is hoped in this volume that we might be able to gain a certain insight into the psychological reasons which underline the commission of the most incestuous acts. And it was also been dually noted here that we will concern ourselves solely with incestuous acts between mothers and sons. We therefore accept both the fact that incest taboo exists as well as the fact that incest itself also exists from time to time.
It is very interesting to note, however, as we begin to examine the five frank case histories which follow, that many researchers into the field of incest would concur with the theories which the noted psychologist Edward Westermack drew in his book The History of Human Marriage.
Westermack concluded that members of the same family unit-with the exception of husband and wife-have an innate instinct to lose sexual inclination toward each other. Westermack says, in other words, that by virtue of proximity, familiarity and blood relation, sisters and brothers, fathers and daughters and mothers and sons will not be inclined to have sex with each other. This is a theory which, surprisingly in my opinion, is still popular in the 1970's.
I believe that the case histories which follow will refute this theory. It is quite evident, for example, that there are numerous occasions every year where incest occurs. If, for example, just one woman out of every ten thousand in the United States had sexual intercourse with her son each year, that would mean that each year-applying the statistic of a 100,000,000 female American population-ten thousand mothers have intercourse with their sons.
Naturally no precise statistics are available because incest has become so stigmatized and such shame and disgrace is still associated with it. It is unfortunately, but a subject as important as this one is one which we are still very prudish and puritanical about treating.
Thus it is in the hope that the reader will be able to discuss this matter with a better educated insight that this book is brought forth. The reader of this book cannot help but come away with a better idea of the underlying causes of incest between mothers and sons. Thus, with the hope of leading the reader to certain thoughtful and educated conclusions on a very benighted subject, we will move ahead with the very frank, very candid and thoroughly shocking words of Mrs. Ellen D., our first case history.
Mrs. Ellen D. of Portsmouth, Maine, came to my offices in early 1974 to detail an odd experience which had occurred between herself and her son.
"It's such a strange thing," Mrs. D. began slowly, "that I almost hate to admit it happened." She paused and then continued. "I ... I know that it must have violated the laws of nature, doctor, but it was simply ... simply ..."
"Simply what?" I pressed. "We're both adults, Mrs. D.," I said to her. "We have to face up to the consequences of what we've done."
"Oh, yes," she said. "I know that. But what my son and I did, doctor, is ... well, I guess it's just downright perverted. I know it's against the law of the state of Maine."
"What exactly did you do?" I asked the very youthful Mrs. D., a thirty-four-year-old mother of two boys.
"We balled," she said. "Right there behind the barn on our family farm. We screwed."
"You mean you had sexual intercourse with your son?" I asked her as I looked up and studied her carefully.
"That's pretty much what happened, doctor," she said in response. "I know it's a pretty dirty thing for a mother to do with her son, but, well, I just couldn't resist it."
I spoke to Mrs. D. for a few moments about her use of the word 'dirty.' Naturally, as a result of our puritanical heritage in our great nation, sex has always had 'dirty' connotations. In particular, any sort of sex which has deviated from the norm has had these connotations. But I urged Mrs. D. to try to place her sexual activity in its proper perspective. In many societies incestuous patterns of sex are not only the norm but are actively accepted as a normal healthy form of sex. Thus it is purely a regional and subjective assessment that her actions had been-as she referred to it-'dirty.'
"Well, dirty or not," she said to me in response, "I couldn't resist it. I know you can't contradict me on that score, doctor."
"You speak of something that couldn't be resisted, Mrs. D.," I said to the attractive dark-haired woman. "But surely you had seen your son before. What was it on this particular day that made him so irresistible?"
"His cock," she replied.
"Excuse me?" I asked, again looking up from where I was taking notes.
"His pecker. His penis, His ding-a-ling! Shit, doctor, are you thick or something? Do I have to spell it to hell right out for you?"
"I merely wanted to ascertain that I understood you perfectly," I said to her. "You say you saw his 'cock'?"
"I sure did," she said. "And that's what turned my pussy on so much. That's what made me want to ball with him. Right there on the spot."
Mrs. D., attractively attired in a very short skirt, tight light blue sweater and white vinyl boots which rose almost all the way to her knees, was obviously a very alluring woman as she lay on my interviewing couch on her first visit to my office. A woman in her mid thirties, as noted, she was evidently undergoing the heavy sexual drive which many women of her age endure. It is a drive which often drives women to experiment with sexual activities which they might have always considered to be considerably exciting yet taboo. In many cases, as in the case of this very attractive dark-haired miniskirted mother of two, it drives the women so afflicted into incestuous sex acts. Many of these women come to my offices for consultation and, in these cases, it is the primary function of my office to lead these women to a clearer understanding of their actions.
"You say this occurred outdoors, Mrs. D.?" I then asked her.
"That's right," she said.
"On your family farm?"
"That's right, doctor," she assured me. "Out behind the north barn. The barn where we keep a few of the horses and some of the heavier farm machinery. You know, like the tractors."
"I understand the location, Mrs. D.," I said thoughtfully, "but I don't understand how you happened to see your son's private male parts on that particular occasion."
She smiled. "I told you it was an odd story," she said. "I suppose I better explain about the entire incident."
"I'd appreciate it if you would," I said. And Mrs. D. then explained what had happened between her and her older son, Kevin, a husky lad of sixteen ...
... Let me just start off by explaining one thing, doctor. I'm very happy with my husband.
We've been married for a long time. You see, I got married back when I was eighteen myself. Do you know why? I guess it's obvious. I had to. Back when I was seventeen I met my husband and began to fuck with him. We fucked just about everywhere. We fucked out in open fields and we fucked in the back seats of cars. We fucked under tables at parties and one time we made fifty dollars by fucking at a 1950's college fraternity party. That was pretty kinky, doctor. I got terribly excited over that. We were on stage and completely naked when we fucked right out in the open in front of over twenty horny guys. They were all beating their meat over us as we balled.
Well, one of the times we fucked I got knocked up. You know, pregnant. And do you know what was the result of that pregnancy? Kevin, the older of my two sons.
Well, right when the boy was born I started doing a little mental work. I started counting on my fingers and adding up a few things and it very quickly became apparent to me that by the time my boy reached puberty I'd be entering my thirties. That wouldn't be very old at all for me. I guess I flirted with the idea of screwing with the boy when I reached that point in my life. But I honestly didn't think I ever seriously considered the idea until that time a few month ago when I saw his big bare cock for the first time.
Here's what happened, doctor. It was one of those balmy days in the late autumn when things are so nice on the farm. It wasn't too hot, but the sun was still nice and warm. I guess it was a fine late summer day. I wondered where the boys were and whether or not chores. It was a Saturday doctor. Otherwise they would have been in school.
Well, I began to wonder just where they might have been. I knew that the younger boy, Jimmy, who was fourteen at the time, had gone down to the south pasture area with his father. Jimmy had taken some of the farm tools with him and I knew he was going to be helping his Dad.
But what about Kevin? I had no idea where the boy might have gone for the afternoon. All I knew was that I'd seen him late that morning wandering off toward the northern barn area.
A mother's curiosity got the best of her, doctor. So I started to wander off in the same direction as my boy had gone. I wanted to know what he was doing. Not only did I find out, but I was soon an integral part of what he was doing.
I traced his path out to the northern barn.
"Kevin?" I called out. But there was no answer. Pretty soon I came to the northern barn. The front door was open. So I walked in. I had been calling out his name all along as I'd walked along up there. He hadn't heard me. Now that I felt I was getting very close to him I stopped calling his name. Now I didn't want him to hear me. I wanted to come upon him by surprise. I wanted to know what he was doing before he stopped doing it.
I walked quietly through the barn. I was tempted again to call out his name but then I saw the back exit to the barn had been left ajar, just as the front entrance had.
My son had obviously passed through the barn. I moved on quietly and then peeped through the half-open back door to that barn.
Doctor, my eyes nearly popped right out of my motherly head. I simply couldn't believe what I was seeing. There was my son, Kevin, laying out there in the sun. Completely nude!
Doctor, he was as bare as the day he was born! But his body had changed considerably since the day he was born, I promise you that. He had taken that sunny afternoon to sit, or I should say, lie, in that warm fall sun. And he was lying completely naked in the sun's warm rays.
He was sleeping, doctor. He had taken his clothes off and had covered the ground with them. Then he had reclined fully naked back onto those clothes. He was face-up in the warm sunshine. And ... well, doctor ... face-up means that I could see his cock.
See it? I couldn't miss it. It was a big handsome tool with a nice big pair of balls underneath it. I could see that big cock from where I was standing inside that barn. But I couldn't see it as well as I wanted to. I wanted to get up right close to it, doctor. I wanted to see my son's penis so closely that I could just reach out and touch it.
I tiptoed out to where he was lying. I saw the way that cock of his was pointing straight up in the air. He started to dream as I was sneaking out there and his cock had begun to erect. I couldn't have been more pleased.
"Oh, Kevin," I cooed to him so softly that he couldn't hear me. "What a hunk of meat you've got down there. What a hefty big hunk of meat!"
He moved around a little as I whispered that softly. For a split second I was afraid that I'd awakened him. I moved very close and I saw his tool was almost at a full erection. I examined it carefully. I virtually stood right over it. Then an odd feeling came over me, doctor. It was a feeling which went from my brain to my pussy and then back again. I obtained a moist feeling down in my snatch. And I had the urge to touch his penis.
I leaned over him. My sleeping son's muscular young body was stretched out comfortably in the sunlight as I leaned down and reached for that big erect tool between his legs.
I touched it. I rubbed the tip of my finger underneath his dick. I ran my fingertip up and down the long blue vein on the underside of his dick and I caressed that very tender spot beneath the head of his shaft.
"What a hunk of meat, Kevin," I cooed to him. "What a hunk of beefy cock!"
"Mmmmm," he suddenly uttered, making me pull my hand away in surprise. "Mmmmm, that's nice," he said.
I was stunned. Either he was dreaming or he was fully aware what I, his mother, was doing. He moved his position around a bit and almost seemed to pull his dick away from me.
I held my finger motionless, just like the rest of my body. "Please," I heard him say, his eyes still closed as if he were still in the midst of a very pleasant dream, "please, don't stop."
He wanted it! He liked it and wanted more! I couldn't believe it. I looked at his smiling contented face again and saw that his eyes were still closed. He had to be still asleep. So I reached back down there and I rubbed my fingertip up and down that big hard prick of his again. But this time the penis was so firm and hard to the touch that I began to get other ideas. Pussy ideas, doctor! I wanted my son to stuff that big hard of his into my warm vibrating vagina!
I guess I knew what I was doing was wrong, doctor, but I couldn't stop myself. I quickly pulled both of my hands away from his penis and I reached under my skirt to my panties. I quickly pulled them down my legs and off. I kicked them away off my ankles and I watched them sail across from me to where they hooked onto one of the handles to the barn door. Then I reached up under my skirt with a finger and I felt my pussy.
It was soaking wet. I gave my clitoris a nice rub with my fingertip and I massaged it for a few more seconds.
"Stroke me," I then heard my son say. "Someone should stroke my penis."
I quickly unhooked my skirt and I pulled my sweater off. I was almost completely naked except for my bra. I undid that by pulling the snaps apart in back and I tossed the bothersome bra away, too. It landed in one of the lower branches of a nearby bush.
But hell, doctor, the only bush I was concerned with was my own. I reached down there and I felt how wet I was getting. So I gave myself a few final strokes across the clitoris and I returned my attention to my son.
I leaned over him, doctor, and I got down on all fours. I held his balls in my hands as I cupped my palms around his nuts. Then I leaned forward to give my sleeping son a kiss-but a kind of a kiss that he'd never received before from his mother.
I brought my mouth down on his penis, doctor, and I swept the tip of my tongue across the big hole on the head of his penis.
"Kevin, dear," I said to my son, "you'll have to forgive your mother if this embarrasses you. But mother just can't resist a hefty big cock like the one you have here."
I held that shaft of his penis in my hands and I lowered my lips onto the head of his penis.
"Mmmmm," he moaned in his sleep. "Mmmm, that's nice. That's real nice."
"Of course it's nice, Kevin," I said to him in a normal voice. "Your mother wouldn't do anything for you that wasn't nice."
As soon as I said that I knew it had been a mistake. I had spoken so loud that it had roused him from his sleep. Slowly his eyes started to flicker and open. They shot open in bug-eyed amazement as his eyes opened to see his mother licking on his penis.
"Hold still, dear," I said to him, "and I'll suck you until I bring you to orgasm!"
"Mom! Mom!" he howled. "Mom! What are you doing?"
He was terribly excited, that sixteen-year-old son of mine. It was almost as if he doubted for a few moments that mother didn't know exactly what she was doing.
"I'm licking your cock," I said to him. "What do you think I'm doing?"
"But Mom! You've got to be crazy!"
He started to struggle and try to get to his feet. But a good country farm woman like myself doesn't take any sass from a son, doctor. As he tried to struggle his way to his feet I went right for the part which is most vulnerable on a male. The balls.
I grabbed his nuts with my hand. I grabbed tightly and I held. He braced himself and nearly let go with a cry which could have called the hogs home. But I released just enough just in time.
"No noise or I'll squeeze again," I said softly. "Understood?"
His face was alternating between red and white. He started to nod his head as he looked at my eyes filled with misunderstanding and terror.
"And no struggling, either," I said to him next. "Is that understood, too?"
Again he nodded.
I spoke to him again. "I suppose you're very embarrassed," I said to him. "Very embarrassed about me catching you taking a bare-assed sunbath out here."
"G-g-gosh, yeah, Mom," he stammered.
"And I suppose you're wondering why I'm bare-assed myself," I said to him.
Again he nodded. I saw his eyes begin to explore me. He looked down toward my big triangular bush and then up toward my nipples. I don't mind telling you, doctor, I keep my body in pretty good shape. There are a lot of girls in this world who are younger than I, but there aren't many who at thirty-four can offer a nicely firmed uplifted pair of tits like mine.
"I took my clothes off, Kevin," I said to him, "because the sight of your big bare cock aroused me. It got me sexually stimulated. So I wanted to be naked with you."
"But, Mom," he gulped. "S-s-something like that just isn't right. It's sick."
I smiled and I began to rub the palms of my hands up and down that long penis shaft of his. I saw that his cock was still every bit as hard as it had been. I saw to it that it stayed that way.
"Is it so sick, Kevin?" I asked him. "I notice that your penis is still hard. That would indi-that you're getting excited over what's happening."
"But Mom," he started to say.
"Don't interrupt," I said to him. "Mother knows best. Mother knows why your prick is hard."
"Why?" He gulped.
I continued to rub against his shaft as I explained. "Your prick was hard because you were having an erotic dream," I said to him. "And you were having an erotic dream because you're a horny young man."
He gulped again.
"A young man who is horny is a young man who is old enough to get his rocks off," I said to my son.
"Get his rocks off, Mom?" he asked, wondering exactly what I meant by that phrase.
"Get laid," I said. "If you're old enough to have dreams about squirting your sperm into young women, then you're old enough to actually do it."
"But, Mom!" He protested.
"Now tell me honestly," I said to him, "have you ever gotten your rocks off."
"Mom I-" he began to protest. I squeezed his left nut to show him that I wasn't going to take any shit from him. He yelped when I gave that nut a pinch.
"Have you?" I asked. "And I'm not talking about anything you might have done here on the farm with the ewes and heifers. I want to know about young human females."
He stammered and I gave his other nut a squeeze. "Answer your mother!" I demanded as his eyes searched my bush and my bare tits again.
"Just one," he said.
"Who?" I asked.
He answered, naming the daughter of the local family doctor. That girl used to get into her father's medicine supply closets and steal rubbers. Then she'd give the rubbers to her boyfriends and use them when she got laid.
"Ah ha," I said. "And it was because of this girl that you were having another erection?"
He nodded.
"Well then, Kevin," I said to him, "as long as you're going to have an erection you better learn how to use it."
I heard him utter a loud gulp again.
"You just stay right where you are," I said to him. "If you try to struggle or disobey your mother I'll give you a good hard punch in the cubes. And you don't want that, do you?"
He shook his head. He also maintained his erection. Then, right there in the full light of that late summer sunshine, I threw my leg over him and straddled his penis area.
"Mom!" He protested for a final time. "What are you doing?"
"What a silly boy," I said in disgust. "Isn't it obvious? I'm preparing to fuck you."
Another loud gulp belched up from his throat. But then I began to slowly lower my pussy. I held his rigid stick in my hand as I brought my pussy downward upon that big hard dork of his. I felt my outer pussy lips slide downward onto the huge rim head of his shaft. With my finger I gave a final rub to that tender spot down below the head of his penis shaft. I saw the contented look on his face and then I pulled my finger away and lowered my pussy all the way down his big pole.
"Oooh, M-m-mom," he moaned. "Oh, Mom, what a nice warm pussy you have."
"Of course I have a nice warm pussy," I said to him. I had my vagina pushed all the way down on him by now. I had taken his shaft all the way into me. I started to move around a little to build up a bit of friction between my pussy walls and my son's big hard tool. "And a nice warm pussy is for satisfying men," I reminded him. "A nice warm pussy is useless if it's not put to use by a nice hard cock."
"Shit, Mom," he uttered. "I just can't believe this." He was starting to rhythm his penis against the wet inner walls of my vagina. I ground my pussy downward again and returned that massaging rhythm from my vagina to his dick.
He moved his hands to my hips, but that didn't please me completely. "My tits, Kevin," I said to him. "Play with my big hard pink nipples."
He raised his hands from my hips and slid them up my side until he came to my breasts. He pushed one palm against each tit and I could feel my nipples becoming hard as little rocks beneath the warm pressure of his palms. He pressed my tits and then toyed with my nipples between his thumbs and forefingers. And all this time we were grinding our loins together-me pumping and he thrusting upward. He rhythmed his fingers across my titties and his cock continued to grind away inside me. He thrusted his penis upwards repeatedly and as he massaged my tits I could feel the desire building to the bursting level down inside my pussy.
"Oh, Kevin," I moaned to my son as his cock raised me to the bliss of the orgasmic plateau. "Oh, Kevin! You're such a well hung young man!"
I orgasmed hard, doctor, as Kevin kept whamming that faithful dick of his upwards. I rode him hard and he moved me to orgasm after orgasm. I throbbed downward on his shaft repeatedly and I could feel that hard rigid tool of his pressing far back into me.
"Squirt," I told him. "I want you to squirt."
"You want me to come, Mom?" He asked. "You want me to come in your pussy."
"Way back deep in my pussy," I said to him. "I want those warm seeds way back deep inside my cunt,"
"Now, Mom?" He asked. "Now?"
"Now," I said.
We pressed close to each other. Then suddenly I felt my son's penis spasm and erupt deeply into my vagina. I felt the first few drops of his spermy load shoot sharply upward and spatter warmly all over the hot inner walls of my pussy. I was torn apart by a long satisfying series of deep pelvic orgasmic blasts. My son and I were coming at the same time!
His penis spattered a huge load of seeds upwards into me. I moaned and cursed in the excitement of having my boy's seeds squirt into me. I throbbed with orgasmic fervor and I loved each and every long pulsating moment of it.
When it was all over, doctor, and when I had gotten off every blast that my pussy had locked up in it, we lay there together for several more seconds.
"Golly, Mom," Kevin finally said to me. "That was the best orgasm I ever had."
"Mother knows best," I said confidently to him. "Mother knew that you'd have a nice big satisfying come if she sat down on your penis. That's why she did it."
"Was it ... was it good for you, too?" He asked me.
"Yes, Kevin, it was," I answered my son. "It was very good for me, too." I paused and then I continued again in a moment. "It was very good for me, too." I said, "but I hasten to add that it's not over yet."
"It's not?" He asked. He was surprised and still gasping for his breath."
"A gentleman never leaves a lady with a big spermy load inside her vagina," I explained.
"No?" He asked. �
"No," I affirmed. "A gentleman has a way of finishing the love act which is different from the way an ordinary man would finish it."
"How, Mom?" He asked.
"When a man finishes," I explained to him, "he just gets up and leaves."
"But when a gentleman finishes, he eats his woman out."
"He does?" He asked.
"Without question," I said. "Now get to work."
I got off of him and lay back on the warm ground. I rolled all of his clothes up into a ball and plopped my ass on them, hoisting my pussy up a few inches off the ground. "Okay, Kevin," I said. "Let's see you dig in."
And first my son was reluctant. "But then, like a good son, he was slurping merrily down in my pussy, licking me until I was completely dry down there. He ate me out nicely, doctor, and really thrilled me on one of the more exciting days of my life. I know I'll never forget the heavenly feeling of his tongue slipping into me no more than I'll ever forget the heavenly feeling of his dick slipping in. Believe me, doctor, every woman should be so lucky ...
... I contemplated Mrs. D.'s testimony for a few moments as she brought her story to a conclusion. There was much in her story that interested me, not just from the standpoint of her rather uncommon sexual behavior, but also from the standpoint of the psychological motivation which was behind her behavior. Her case was one which deserved to be followed in greater depth.
"From what you say, Mrs. D.," I said to the Maine housewife, "I would assume that you felt no regret about what you did."
"Regret?" She asked with a slightly hesitant voice. "I don't think so."
"You're not sure?" I asked.
"I'm reasonably certain," she said with increased confidence. "I don't regret what I did."
"What about immediately afterward?" I asked. "Did you feel a tinge of guilt perhaps?"
"Not exactly, doctor," she said to me. "I felt ... well, I felt I had done something very uncommon. Something unusual, perhaps bizarre or even perverted from a certain point of view. And yet ..."
"And yet what?" I asked.
"And yet I couldn't quite feel guilty about it. I just couldn't feel any regret."
"Why do you suppose that was?" I asked.
"Because it felt so good," she said. "It was so satisfying."
"The sex act you committed with your son?" I asked, trying to get Mrs. D. down to specifics.
"That's right," she said. "I had one of the best orgasms I'd ever blasted out of my pussy. It was a dynamite orgasm, no question about that. And Kevin had enjoyed it, too. That's why I couldn't feel any regret or guilt. It had been so fantastically good for both of us that I knew it just couldn't have been all bad."
"An interesting point of view, Mrs. D.," I noted as I made a few final notes on the interview. "A very interesting point of view, indeed."
As I completed my pencil-and-paper notes on Mrs. D.'s initial interview I requested that she return to my office for a second brief visit. I was very much intrigued with this particular patient and there were other matters to be probed in the hope of uncovering the deeper psycho-sexual ramifications of her incestuous sexual patterns. I hoped in particular to study her continuing attitude with this older son and whatever relationship-sexual or otherwise- which may have developed between herself and her younger son, Jimmy. Mrs. D. agreed to return for a second visit. And at that point we concluded our second interview.
ii
Sigmund Freud in his work entitled Archaic and Infantile Features in Dreams discussed how many adult humans, both male and female, would look upon as "perversions" those sexual practices which deviated from the norm. While we will deal at length later with a Freudian analysis of Mrs. D.'s pattern of behavior, it is well worth noting here that one of these typical so-called "perversions" is incest.
Incest is often apparent in an adult human simply in a negative form. That is, it is the fear of incest or the fear of the committing of incest which is present in each psyche.
Yet in Mrs. D. incest was present in the form of a clear and present desire, a desire which took its toll in a much more positive manner. That is, Mrs. D. was driven toward the commission of an act of incest with her son. This thought was in the forefront of my mind, as should be borne in mind by the reader, during the course of Mrs. D.'s second interview. My line of questioning, and her line of response, should be considered in the light of a Freudian concept of incest as well as a Freudian analysis of her patterns of incestuous behavior.
Also in consideration of Mrs. D.'s behavior we should bear in mind the concept of "psychologically renewable virginity," a concept postulated by Dr. Alfred Schwarzbacher at the Pennsylvania College of Psychotherapy. (See Dr. Schwarzbtcher's An Introductory Analysis of Behavior Deviation, published in 1972 in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania.)
* * *
"Mrs. D.," I said at the outset of Mrs. D.'s second visit to my offices, "I believe that you have two sons."
"That's correct, doctor," she replied.
"And you've had sex with the older boy, Kevin," I re-affirmed.
"Several times," she replied.
"Is it still enjoyable?" I asked.
"It is," she replied.
"How old is your second son?" I asked.
"Jimmy is fourteen," she said. I noted that her hands moved nervously in her lap as the subject turned to her younger son. Mrs. D. was smartly attired on her second visit to my office. She wore a strikingly handsome pink blouse with another stylishly short black skirt, a skirt which was hemmed at least eight inches above her knees. I noted Mrs. D.'s youthfully mod-dish attire as I continued my questioning.
"Is he an attractive young boy?" I asked.
"Very much so, doctor," she said. "In fact, he's bigger than his older brother. He's much better developed than Kevin was at the same age. More muscular, too."
"I see," I said. "I note with interest that you've considered both the physical and sexual development of both sons."
She shrugged nervously. "It's the type of thing a mother can't help noticing," she said. "Particularly a mother like me. You know, a woman who has already committed incest several times."
"I have to ask you very frankly," I said to her. "Have you had sex with your younger son?"
She paused for several seconds before answering. "Well," she finally replied. "Almost."
"Almost?" I asked. "What does that mean?"
"It means I nearly did it with Jimmy. But I didn't actually go through with it. That's what I mean by 'almost'."
"Would you tell me what you mean by coming close but not going through with it?" I asked.
Mrs. D. said she would explain. This was what she told me ...
... After fucking with my older son a few times, doctor, I began to think about having some of the really young stuff. You know what I mean by young stuff. I mean my younger son. A fourteen-year-old with a nubile little penis that would be barely touched by women.
Here's what happened, doctor. I went into his room one night when he was getting his pajamas on. Well, I didn't just go right in. I paused at the door long enough to peep through the keyhole. Boy did I ever get an eyeful through that keyhole.
I saw that muscular young fellow stripped right down to his white cotton underpants. I saw those big muscular shoulders and the narrow waist. Then he lowered those white cotton briefs and I could see the firm cheeks of his ass.
"Turn around," I remember thinking to him as I peeped through that keyhole. "Turn around and let me see your tool."
I could already feel my pussy watering over the thought of balling with my younger son, doctor. I was all hot and excited down in the pussy area and I knew I was a candidate for a few good hard orgasms. I was even more sure of that when he actually did turn around.
"Shit," I thought in amazement. "What a pecker!"
There was no doubt about it. My sons had both been endowed with real hunks of meat down where it counts. I saw him fully as he turned around. He had a long dangling tool that must have hung down a good five inches against his big bulging balls. It was hanging there long and proud, like a sleeping snake. It bobbled slightly as he walked. I was too excited to fully know what I was doing, doctor. So that's when I opened the door and walked in on him.
"Hey! Mom! What's the idea?" He yelped as I slowly opened the door and peered in on him.
He held his hands to his balls and covered up his genitalia as best he could. He turned away from me so that I couldn't see his young treasures.
"Don't be shy, Jimmy," I said to him. "Mother has already seen you down there."
"Yeah," he said. "But not for years. Not since ...not since ..."
"Not since your testicles descended and you grew hair on your nuts?" I asked. "Is that what you think?"
"Yes," he said.
"Well, you're wrong," I said. "I've been peeping on you. I've studied your tool well. I know exactly what's down there. So you needn't hide what mother has already seen."
Aw, Mom!" He protested.
I sat down on his bed and he stood up again with his back to me, looking over his shoulder to complain as I sat there.
"Mom," I heard him protest again. "I don't know what you're trying to do. It's not right for a guy's mother to walk in on him at a time like this."
"You think you're a big sophisticated boy," I said to him, "and you think that you can hide things from your mother. But you can't. Right now I can see your pecker and your balls even though you're trying your best to hide them from me."
He didn't know what I meant until he realized that in turning away from me he had turned his tools directly toward the mirror in his room. He may have had his back to me, but I could see his tool in the mirror.
I knew I had defeated him. So I ordered him to come over and sit down beside me on the bed. He was reluctant at first but then obeyed. When he sat down next to me he had become sexually excited. His tool was half-hard and was almost trying to stand up to a full erection.
"Take your hands away from your crotch," I said to him. "Act like a big boy instead of like a child."
He pulled his hands away and he bared his cock to me.
"You're a very handsome boy down there," I said to him. "You should be proud of your tools. You shouldn't be embarrassed and try to hide all that nature has given you."
He told me that he was embarrassed because he didn't think his mother should see him bare down there.
"Mother has seen many naked men below the belt," I explained. "This is nothing new to mother. In fact, I've seen your older brother, Kevin, bare down there."
"You have?" He asked.
"I have," I affirmed. "He, too, is a very handsome young man down there. Just like yourself?"
He was red in the face and was still very embarrassed.
"When I saw your brother bare down there he told me that he'd already poked his penis into a young woman's snatch. Kevin wasn't a virgin," I said. "So mother didn't feel badly about having sex with him. But I needed to know about you, too, Jimmy."
"Need to know?" He asked.
"I need to know about your penis," I said. "Is it pure?"
"Pure?"
"Virgin," I said. "Have you ever poked that handsome big tool into a young woman's slot?"
He seemed stunned by the question. I sought to put him at ease by doing something that always calms a male. I reached to his hard dick, took it in my hand and began to stroke the underside of it. I stroked him firmly in the way that all men like. He didn't know what to do or say.
"The truth, Jimmy," I said to him. "I want the truth."
"Never, Mom," he said to me. And I was surprised. The kids these day are so promiscuous that I was surprised to find one who was pure at the age of fourteen.
"Never?" I asked, furrowing my brow and continuing to caress his hard young tool. "Never at all?"
He gulped loudly. "No, Mom, honest," he said. "I've never put it into anyone."
"Odd," I said. "Are you saving your little cherries for someone in particular? Someone who might only be in the fourth grade at school right now?"
"Gosh, Mom," he gulped. "I've just never met anyone who's let me in. That's all."
"I see," I said to him. I looked at that tremendous erect tool that my fourteen-year-old son had down there between his legs. It was hard and almost bursting with desire. The big veins were blue and bulging on the side of his prick. For a second I considered taking his virginity right there on the spot by having him lie back while I squatted down onto his big erect dick.
But I didn't do that. I'm a very liberal woman, doctor, and I think a young boy or girl should choose when or whom they're going to fuck for the first time. So this is what I mean by almost, doctor. I almost decided to screw with him right there on the spot. But then I decided not to. I decided to do something else instead.
"But you're old enough to think about fucking, aren't you?" I asked him.
He nodded.
"Well then," I said. "If you're old enough to think about fucking you're old enough to receive a hand-job."
He blinked in disbelief.
"Do you know what a hand-job is?" I asked him.
He nodded.
"Do you think you'll have any trouble coming in mother's hand?" I asked.
He slowly shook his head. "Ever since you've been stroking my rod I've been afraid that I was going to come," he said.
"That's simply wonderful," I said to him. "You just relax. You just let your penis run its natural course. Mother will be glad to have you squirt your jissum into her palm."
The boy was very excited, doctor. I kept moving my hand up and down his shaft, concentrating my efforts on the long blue vein on the underside of his penis. I could feel the rod getting harder and harder in my hand until I could feel it occasionally give a twitch of desire, a twitch which conveyed its desire to have a big spurt of come into my hand.
"Just relax," I said to him. "A nice big penis like that should have no trouble at all."
He gulped and seemed as if he were very nervous. Nerves can wreck a man's come. So instead of finishing the job with my hand I told him to sit tightly on the edge of that bed. Then I left the bed and kneeled right in front of him.
"Holy shit, Mom!" He exclaimed. "Are you going to blow me?"
"Silly boy," I said to him. "How's it look to you?"
I cupped my hands around his precious balls. Then I pushed my mouth to his penis and took it gently between my lips. I held the head of his penis between the roof of my mouth and my tongue. I swished my tongue back and forth across that dick of his. I felt it move up to its final state of rigidity. Then I felt it spasm and begin to spray its seeds out.
That dick of his fired with incredible force. You know, doctor, what kind of orgasm a man has if he hasn't come for a while. Well, that's how it was with Jimmy. His penis gushed forth with a terrific spurt to start with and then continued to pour forth like a hose that someone had left on.
I held my hands firmly to his balls as he continued to gush his juice forward. I sucked him thoroughly. I drew every available drop of come out of him until I was certain that I had sucked him completely dry ...
... "Then you didn't actually have intercourse with the boy?" I asked Mrs. D. as she concluded the story.
"No," she said. "Not at all."
"And since this initial contact with your younger son have you had intercourse with him?"
"No doctor," she answered. "I wouldn't do it with him. Not while he's still pure."
"Still pure?"
"Still a virgin," she said.
"You consider him still a virgin even though you've performed fellatio upon him?" I asked.
"As long as he's never had his little phallic stick inside a woman's cunt he's still a virgin to me. And until he loses his cherries he's off-limits as far as sexual intercourse is concerned. That's my decision."
"Would you like to have sexual intercourse with him?" I asked Mrs. D.
"Of course I would," she answered. "But I'm a strong woman. I can deny myself pleasure when it's necessary."
"I see," I said. "But it would occur to me, Mrs. D.," I said, "that while you're denying yourself the pleasure of one son's sexual relations you're probably availing yourself of the other son. Probably to the fullest extent possible."
"You're jumping to conclusions, doctor," she snapped quickly. "I wouldn't start making like a smart-ass with suggestions like that!"
"I'd simply feel that this would be the case," I informed her in my best professional manner. "This isn't meant to be a snide remark, but rather the result of careful observation and consideration on my part."
There was only silence from Mrs. D. I knew that I'd hit an emotional nerve, but this was essential to my analysis of her case. I observed her closely.
"Tell me honestly, Mrs. D.," I said. "Since deciding that your younger son was 'off-limits' have you increased your frequency of intercourse with your older son?"
Mrs. D. stammered an affirmative response. In the concluding moments of that second interview session, Mrs. D. revealed the extent of her recent sexual activities with her elder son.
Mrs. D. informed me that she and her son Kevin had enacted an odd form of sexual appeasement for each other.
"Kevin comes to me when he's very horny," she explained at the termination of that second interview session. "But I never allow him to take the aggressor's role."
"Please explain," I said to her.
"I ... I like to think that I'm seducing him for the first time every time," she said.
"I see," I nodded. "And how exactly do you accomplish that?"
"I have him pretend," she said, twisting the ring on her left hand as she spoke. "I have him pretend that he's an innocent little boy and that I'm his mother. I have him pretend that he's been bad and I prepare to spank him."
I looked up from my notes and was very intrigued by what she said. Obviously Mrs. D. was anxious to exert her authoritarian "mother" role even during the act of incestuous sexual intercourse. "Continue," I said to her.
"Take last week for example," she said. "Kevin came into my bedroom when there was no one else home. As soon as he came into the room I knew what he wanted."
"How did you know?" I asked.
"I just had to look at his crotch," said Mrs. D., "and it was very obvious. There was a huge bulge beneath the fly of his pants. When I see a male with a bulge like that in his pants it's a sure sign that he's hungry for a bit of snatch."
"So what happened?" I asked.
"Well, my son came up behind me and wrapped his hands around me. All I had on was my bra and panties. He placed his hands right on my boobs and he gave my tits a good feeling even through the cloth of that bra."
"And?"
"And I was fucking excited, doctor," she said. "But that didn't stop me from exercising self-control. I told you that I was a woman of profound self-control and I meant it when I said it."
"What did you do?" I asked.
"I got dressed," she said. "I got dressed in a blouse and a skirt. Then I grabbed a hairbrush with some heavy harsh bristles. Then I came back to Kevin. By now his dork was huge under those pants. He knew the scene that we would enact."
"Continue," I said.
"I scolded him like a mother would scold a little boy. I bawled him out and he pretended that he had been a very bad little boy. Then I sat down and pulled him over my knee. I yanked down his pants and started to administer a good firm spanking to the hard bare cheeks of his ass."
"A spanking?" I asked.
"Exactly. I pounded away with a few crisp slaps of that hairbrush. I formed some good crimson spots on the white cheeks of his ass. But all this time I could feel his erect tool in my lap. Well, then I turned him over and took a good hard look at the big rod that he had. I pretended that I was discovering it for the first time. I played with his penis while he massaged the flaming red cheeks of his ass. I kept rubbing the tender underside of his penis shaft."
"Did you say anything to him?" I asked.
"Yes, doctor, I did," she said. "I asked him if he were going to be a bad boy again. He said he wouldn't be. Then I asked him if he'd like his mother to introduce him to something very nice for the first time, something which would be a real treat for him, a whole new world of pleasure."
"Sex?" I asked.
"That's right, doctor," she said. "Sex. I raised my skirt and I showed him the furry muff between my legs. I told him that that was where he had come from and I asked him if he'd like to put his penis in there."
"And what did he say?" I asked.
"He said he'd never done such a thing before," she said, "but he added that he'd like to try it. So he undressed me, doctor, and he felt up my muff. He got my pussy nice and wet and then he screwed me."
"In other words, Mrs. D.," I said to her, "you enacted a scene in which you would take his alleged virginity."
"That's right," she said.
"And do you do this each time you have sex?" I asked.
"We do," she replied.
"And am I to assume that it enhances your enjoyment of the sex act?" I asked. "It does," she said.
"Thank you, Mrs. D.," I then said. "I have no further questions."
CONCLUSIONS TO CASE HISTORY ONE
It is an established fact that incest does occur from time to time within many American families. The matter which is not established, however, is why incest occurs.
It has been noted often among other psycho-sexual researchers that incest occurs in cases when a member of a family (i.e., a son) is suddenly exposed to the physical attractiveness of another member of the family of the opposite sex.
R. T. McPherson in his 1972 work entitled Aspects of Sexual Misbehavior and Deviation cited the example of a young boy of twelve who happened to walk into a room where his aunt was completely naked. The boy, at an impressionable and sexually aggressive age, had never seen a naked woman, much less a relative. He obtained an erection over the scene before him. His aunt, seeing that the boy was erect by noting the bulge beneath his clothes, remained calm and began certain sexual overtures to the boy. The boy was not seduced at this particular time. But three days later the aunt appeared before him naked and did in fact manage to seduce him.
McPherson draws the conclusion from that case that incest occurred in this case purely because of the physical desire felt by the young male. McPherson draws this conclusion and cites the fact that the boy had never learned the "incest taboo" within his own home and thus acted out of the most basic urge which he felt. Obviously McPherson belongs to the John Watson behaviourist school of psychology, the school which maintains that the actions of each individual can be analyzed only in light of that individual's actual behavior.
I, unfortunately, cannot agree with McPherson's thesis. I believe that the psychological motivations must be examined in each case of incest. In order to discover why incest occurs in the cases where it does occur we must consider the psychological stimuli upon the subject as well as the physical and visual stimuli.
Such consideration, for example, is essential to the understanding of this lengthy introductory case. Why, we ask ourselves, did a complex woman such as Mrs. D. first seduce her older son, then refuse to fully seduce her second son when she very obviously wished to, and thirdly why did Mrs. D. enact such an odd ritual of seduction when repeating the seduction procedure with her older son?
I believe that Mrs. D.'s behavior can be understood as well by considering Freud's work entitled Resistance and Repression as well as the Schdarzbacher work An Introductory Analysis of Behavioral Deviation.
In Resistence and Repression Freud considers the concept of repression and how, when a sexual desire is repressed, it very often occurs with the same intensity as in which it had been repressed.
To explain, Freud postulates that every mental process begins in a certain mental state. That is, it exists in the unconscious state of mind. Freud compares this process with that of a developing photograph, the unconscious state of an idea being akin to a photographic negative. Freud suggests, however, that not every idea, which comes into this unconscious state becomes fully developed. That is, it does not become a positive conscious idea, much like a negative photograph which never becomes fully developed.
Instead, the mind resists certain ideas. We have previously considered how Freud stated in Archaic and Infantile Features in Dreams that in our own western society many adults "learn" to fear the act of incest. That is, they learn to believe in what Freud and other psychoanalysts refer to as the "incest taboo."
Thus, when the idea of incest forms itself in the unconscious mind, that same unconscious mind works against itself. It works to suppress and even repress the incest desire. Thus, through the acquired mannerisms of the mind the idea of incest becomes firmly repressed in the psyche. The actual idea and urge to commit incest is very present in the mind, buried deeply within the subconscious. Despite what the individual involved might think or even outwardly admit, the urge to have incestuous sex is ever present.
Mrs. D., without actually realizing it, admitted that incest was never far from her thoughts. At the outset of one of her interviews at my office she noted that at the birth of her first child she actually considered their potential ages when the boy reached puberty. Thoughts of this sort are quite obviously sexual in origin. What Mrs. D. was admitting when she admitted having these thoughts was that she was actively considering having sex with her sons one day.
What then primed her reaction? In his experiments in the latter part of the last century the Russian psychiatrist Pavlov postulated that a subconscious desire can be triggered and activated by a clearly given stimulus. In the case of Mrs. D. the idea of having incestuous sex with one of her sons was never far from her subconscious thoughts. This was obvious. Thus when she came upon one of her sons naked, fortunately for her the older boy, she came upon the necessary stimulus. That is, seeing the boy's sexual organs was enough to trigger her response. Thus it was an almost obsessive matter for her at the time to satisfy the desire which she had subconsciously been suppressing and repressing for so many years. With no hesitation at all, she committed incest with him.
Why then, with the incest urge so strong in her subconscious, did Mrs. D. not seduce her second son? The answer to this somewhat perplexing matter can be easily seen by considering the concept of "Oedipal guilt." (See Erik H. Erikson's Identity: Youth and Crisis. Specifically consider the chapter entitled Identity Confusion in Life History, Case History.) Essentially, all adult males and females in our society have been conditioned to react to the incest taboo described by Freud. That is, we consider incest a foul misdeed against our sexual ethic. Mrs. D. was conscious of this incest taboo. She even prefaced her initial visit to my offices by admitting to what she called a "perverted" act. Yet, as she also admitted, she enjoyed the act of incest. Stricken with such a crisis of identity and sexual ethic, Mrs. D. reacted in a manner familiar to therapists.
She sought to comprise her ideals. That is, what she did was allow herself to continue her frequent "seductions" of her older son while she declared her younged boy "off-limits" until he had lost his virginity. In this way, Mrs. D. atoned for her apparent misbehavior with her older son by considering herself savior of her younger son's purity. The psyche works in odd ways, of course, and Mrs. D. was not without her own eccentricities.
Mrs. D. was able to continue the excitement of incestuous sex with her older son by enacting odd fantasies of renewed virginity. Just as some men in their more mature years look fondly back upon their first act of sexual intercourse, Mrs. D. had a way of atoning for the fact that she would not allow herself to take her second son's virginity. That way was to enact a fantasy around her older son, a fantasy which she would act out and symbolically take her older son's imagined virginity on each subsequent act of sex. Such fantasy enactments (see Freud's Wish Fulfillment as well as Kenneth Larsen's Fantasy and Gestalt Therapy) are not unusual within the incestuous unions between parents and children.
As an analyst, I try to neither condone nor condemn the sexual activities of those who come to me for sexual consultation. I do, however, urge the mothers who have seduced one son and not yet another son to refrain from introducing that second son to an incestuous union. My feelings on this matter are strong. I have seen too many impressionable young boys and girls hurt by an incestuous relationship. By discouraging incest-prone parents from seducing other children I hope to spare certain other children the possible emotional trauma of incest. When I urged Mrs. D., however, not to include her younger son Jimmy in her future sexual plans, Mrs. D. angrily stormed from my office, accusing me of trying to interfere with her own family life. It was at that unfortunate point where her case was closed.
CASE HISTORY TWO
Many mothers are surprised to learn what their sons have learned at the summer camp. But no mother could possibly have been more surprised-in the full physical sense-than Mrs. Lester G. when she learned what her boy Chipper had learned at a Vermont summer camp for teenage boys.
"I knew the boys did some pretty rowdy things up at those camps," Mrs. G. confided to me at her first meeting at my offices. "But I never thought a bunch of boys in the mid-teens would learn about ... well, about sex."
"Sex?" I asked. "You mean intercourse?"
"Exactly," she said.
"Are you certain he didn't know about it before he went?" I inquired. "Sometimes a mother can be the last to know about what a boy is doing."
"I know what you mean, doctor," but believe me, when he learned about sex, I was the first to find out."
"Would you describe what you meant by that?" I asked.
"What I mean is very simple, doctor," Mrs. G. said to me with an anxious and insistent tone of voice. "My little Chipper learned how to fuck while he was at summer camp. Then he came home and used this new knowledge on me."
"On you?" I inquired. "Are you saying that the boy had sexual intercourse with you?"
"Shit, doctor," snapped Mrs. G. "Do I have to spell it all out for you? Yes, damn it! That's exactly what I'm saying!"
"In that case, Mrs. G.," I said to the nervous woman, "you can come right out and say what you mean. You really need not beat around the bush with whatever you have to say."
"Bush? Hell, doctor, my bush is the one that gets beaten around. I could tell you stories about my son and what he's done to me. The stories would curl the hair on your chest, doctor."
I looked carefully at Mrs. G. as she spoke. Mrs. G. was a woman of thirty-six years. She was dark-haired, attractive with very clear and angular features and obviously had retained a very youthful build. Her son, Chipper, was sixteen years old. Mrs. G. had herself been raised in a conservative home, a background which she had attempted but failed to pass on to her son.
"I don't know where I went wrong with the boy," she said to me as she lit a cigarette. "I mean, if I had raised him properly I'm sure he wouldn't be fucking around at the age of sixteen. What do you think, doctor?"
"Children these days do everything at a younger age than the previous generation, Mrs. G.," I said as gently as I could. She puffed on her cigarette as she spoke. "And that naturally includes sex. They just start earlier these days."
"But what about seducing and fucking their own mothers?" She asked as she tried to steady her shaking voice. "Are they doing that at a younger age, too?" The tone of her voice was one of sarcasm. But she looked at me for an answer.
"I wouldn't say that they 'start' earlier in the field of incest," I informed her. "But I would say that instances of mother-son incest are more pronounced and more frequent."
"More frequent?" She replied. "How can you say that? I've never heard of such things as a boy fucking his mother. I've got to be the only woman alive who has ever been attacked and then fucked by her son like this."
"You may think so, Mrs. G.," I said to her. "But it's not the case. I've talked to dozens of women who have been involved in mother-son incest. In fact, it's more than dozens. It's hundreds of women."
"And everyone is a pervert as far as I'm concerned," she snapped angrily. "Just like I am."
"That's a very unfair assessment of the facts," I replied to her. "I wouldn't call any woman a pervert just because some sex might have occurred between her and her son. I'd have to know more about the individual case. Motives and things of that nature are important, Mrs. G."
"Doctor," she said, "you must be one of those soft headed Eastern liberals or something. You can't tell me that a woman who fucks with her son is altogether there."
"I didn't say women in those circumstances might not have certain mental or emotional or even physical problems," I said. "I merely stated that I didn't believe that women having sex with their sons were necessarily 'perverts.' And I stick by what I said."
"Well, I think that's a can full of bullshit, doctor, if you don't mind my saying so. I consider myself a pervert and I will continue to think so no matter what you try to convince me of."
"In other words," I said, attempting to turn the conversation into a more fruitful direction, "you've had sex with your son more than once."
"Three times," she said.
"Did you enjoy it?" I asked blankly.
"I was very surprised all three times," said Mrs. G. quickly. "I didn't have time to enjoy it. I was shocked. Upset. I think you understand. I'm not that type of a woman."
"Then it wasn't your idea any of those three times?" I inquired as she snuffed out the end of her cigarette. A few seconds later she nervously lit another one.
"Of course it wasn't," she said. "It was Chipper's awful idea. All three times. And the worst thing about it was that I practically begged him for it."
"You what?" I asked in confusion.
"I practically begged him for it," she repeated. "Didn't you hear me the first time?"
"I heard you, Mrs. G." but your statement didn't seem to logically follow from what you've already stated. I believe you said that it wasn't your idea that the two of you have sex."
"It wasn't," she said defensively, trying to foresee any verbal traps I might be setting for her.
"And yet you claim that you practically begged him to do it to you," I continued.
"That's right," she said.
"One point does not appear to logically follow from the other," I said. "I wish you'd explain what you mean. Obviously I'm missing something important."
Mrs. G., drawing heavily on her freshly lit cigarette, paused and then explained to me how she was first seduced by her sixteen-year-old son named Chipper ...
... This whole thing began about two months ago, doctor. It began in the first weeks of September just after my young Chipper had September just after my young Chipper had come home from camp.
He had been home a couple of days and hadn't said much to me about his camping experiences from the summer. Well, I was getting kind of curious about what he'd been doing up there in Vermont with all those other boys.
I guess I might as well tell you exactly what was on my mind, doctor. I thought that Chipper was kind of old to be going off to camp. I figured that a normal red-blooded sixteen-year-old American boy would want to start driving a car around and start fucking girls in the back seats of the cars.
But instead Chipper wanted to go off to camp again that summer to be with the same boys as the two previous summers. Well, do you know what I thought? I thought I had a little queer on my hands. I thought that my son had turned into a faggot with some of those other boys out in the Vermont woods. Naturally this was a matter of great concern to me. I didn't want a fairy son hanging around the house. So I made up my mind to find out exactly what side my son was swinging on. The last thing I expected was to get a personal demonstration that he was not gay.
I cornered Chipper in his bedroom one Friday morning. I did it early in the morning just after his father had left for work. I wanted to have the day to think things over just in case the little brat had gone queer on me. I came right into his bedroom as he was wearing nothing but a little pair of white tennis shorts. I came into his room, sat down and began to talk.
"Chipper," I said to him, "I certainly would like to hear about what you did all summer."
"All summer?" He asked. "I didn't do nothing. I went to camp for ten weeks."
"Well, that's just what I mean, Chipper," I said, getting even more suspicious because of the evasiveness of his first answer. "What I'd like to hear about is what you did at camp."
"Not much," he said. "The guys and I just kind of loafed around all day."
"You did?" I asked. "You didn't do anything all day?"
"Just a lot of shit, Mom," he said to me. "Nothing too important."
"But what about things that you might have done together," I said as I wondered whether those boys had been blowing or buggering each other. Did you and the other boys do anything that might have been new or different?"
"What do you mean, Mom?" he asked, beginning to wonder what I was getting at.
"With your bodies," I said. "Did you do anything unusual or different with your bodies?" I asked.
"With the other guys?" Chipper asked.
"That's right," I said. "With the other boys. Chipper, you can tell your mother. Even if you're ashamed and even if it felt very good at the time, you can trust me and tell me."
"I've lost you, Mom," he said. "I don't know what you're talking about."
I was getting frustrated trying to get answers out of him. From his initial reaction I felt something had gone on up at that camp that I should know about. Now I was determined to find out exactly what it was.
"With the other guys!" I insisted. "I want to know if you did any physical things with the other guys which might have felt very good to you."
He thought for a moment and then replied. "We went hiking a lot," he said. "If that's what you mean."
"Damn it, Chipper!" I exclaimed. "I'm not talking about sports or any of that crap. I'm talking about your penis!"
"My penis?" He asked. I had his full attention now.
"That's right," I insisted. "Did you do anything with your penis that involved the other boys? Maybe even some of the younger boys. I want an honest answer, Chipper!"
Again he tortured me by thinking for a few seconds before answering. "Well, Mom," he said to me candidly as if getting ready to admit something. "I did learn to do something with my peter. But it didn't concern any of the other guys."
"None of them?" I asked.
He shook his head in reply.
"Not just your sixteen-year-old pals," I said. "I want to know if there was any penis action involving the little kids, either."
"No, Mom," he said with an indignant scowl. "What do you think I am? Some sort of fairy or something? It didn't concern any other boys."
"You were the only boy involved in this activity?" I said. "Is that right?"
"Yeah, Mom," he replied. "That's right."
"So that's it," I thought to myself stupidly. "He's learned how to masturbate. And that's what he's been doing all summer up there in Vermont. He's been pounding his meat like a little fag."
I thought things over quickly when I mistakenly concluded that he's been masturbating. I thought that it was my motherly duty to break his masturbation habit in a hurry. So I decided to disgrace him into breaking the habit. I figured that if I forced him to show me how to beat himself off it would so embarrass him that he'd never want to jerk off again. So I addressed him accordingly, still off on a wild wrong track.
"So you learned something new to do with your penis, Chipper," I said aloud in conclusion. "And it doesn't concern any other boys."
"That's right," he said a little sheepishly. "And I guess you've figured out what it is."
"Yes, Chipper, I have," I said. "And I want you to show me how you do it."
"Show you!" He said in shock. "Do you know what you're asking me to do?"
"I know exactly," I said to him. "And that's why it's my business. I want to see you do it."
"But, Mom," he began to protest. "Here? With you?"
"Here with me!" I insisted. "Are you ashamed? Is that why you don't want to do it?"
"Of course I'm not ashamed," he said. "How could I be ashamed of anything that natural which feels so good."
"If it's that natural," I insisted, "then you can do it with your mother," I said. "Lower your pants, Chipper, and let's get down to business."
I guess I'm a very naive woman, doctor, but I really thought he was going to masturbate when he pulled down those pants. I had begged him to show me what he'd learned at camp. And now he was going to show me though I wasn't going to like it when it was performed on me.
He unsnapped those white tennis shorts at the waist and he pulled them down. He had a jock strap on underneath, A big white cloth strap that covered his balls and left his bare ass to hang out the back through those straps.
"Now the jock strap," I insisted as he stood there in nothing but that little athletic support. "Let's get that down and you show me what you learned at camp."
My son reached to his jock and I saw his big dick pop out as he pulled it downward. His phallus wasn't fully erect but it wasn't what I'd call limp, either. It was sort of halfway between.
"Usually a fellow has to get harder than that in order to do what you're going to do," I said to him. And he nodded. "Why don't you start stroking it?" I asked.
"How? With my hand?" He asked in confusion.
"What else could you possibly use?" I asked. "Your foot?"
"No, Mom," he said in response. "You asked me to show you what I learned at camp. So I'm going to. And in order to do it I need your vagina."
"My vagina!" I squealed. "What do you need my vagina for?"
"To fuck, of course," he said to me. "I'm going to show you what I learned."
"I thought you'd learned to beat off," I insisted, holding my hands down toward my crotch as I saw his big blue-veined organ swell up and point right at me. The tip of it was glistening with a few drops of juice that had already gathered in the hole.
"Beat off?" He laughed. "I've been beating of for four years. I'm going to show you what Sally Peck taught me."
"Sally Peck? Who's that?"
"She's a twenty-year-old counselor at the girl's camp across the lake. And she entertains guys in her tent just about every night. I spent two solid weeks in her tent just balling her!"
Chipper reached to my blouse and started to tug at it. He yanked hard and several of the front buttons were pulled off. As I raised my hands to defend my tits he pawed at my bush. When I held one arm across my front to protect my boobs and then held the other hand in front of my pussy to protect my crotch, he reached around beneath my skirt and shoved his fingers right upwards at my anus.
"Hey!" I howled. One of his fingers had poked through my panties and had actually touched my asshole.
"This is outrageous, Chipper!" I gasped. "Simply outrageous!"
"It's what you asked for, Mom," he said aggressively. His hands were all over me by now. I thought I had an octopus for a son. As soon as I pushed a hand away from one place the same hands turned up in another.
"It's what you wanted, Mom," he said again. "And there's no turning back now. Any girl that gets my prick as hard as you've made it deserves to get her reward."
"Reward?" I gasped.
"A good hard dose of penis," he said. "Right between the legs."
I knew I was in trouble now. I tried to protect my sexual areas, doctor, but my son was simply overpowering me. And in many ways I was caught in my own trap. I had waited until no one else was in the house to confront him about his summer at camp. And now because of my own planning there was no one else around to rescue me from him. It was actually beginning to dawn on me that my son was about to fuck me.
He yanked away my skirt and I saw his penis twitch and his arm and leg muscles roll as he held me. His hands quickly pulled my skirt and blouse away from me, leaving me in nothing but bra and panties. I felt almost nude in front of him. And that's exactly what I was ... almost nude. Almost and about to be.
He reached behind my back and struggled with the hooks to my bra. His other arm pulled me close to him and I felt his hardness as it stood up in that erect position between his legs where it jutted out from above his balls.
"Chipper, please!" I begged him. I could feel that hard rod of his as it pushed up against me. I was torn between the desire to fight him off and the desire to have that firm hardness pressed deeply into my pulsating slot.
"Sure, Mom," he said. "You don't have to say 'please'. I'm going to give you just what you asked for. I'm going to show you just what Sally Peck taught me for two weeks."
I opened my mouth to complain and his lips pressed to mine. Our mouths opened and he pushed his wet sensual tongue into my mouth. It firmly twisted back and forth and it teased my own tongue until I reacted to it in just the way that he wanted. I could feel my vagina getting wet from the hardness that he was pushing so close to it. And I began to feel desires down in my lower area, desires that I normally reserve for my husband.
Then he unhooked that bra off of me and it slipped off. He pushed my body away from his and with a firm snatch of his hands he pulled away the bra. I knew it just wasn't right for a mother to be topless in front of her teenage son. So I held my hands in front of my nipples. And that was just what he wanted me to do. I'd moved right into my disgusting son's trap.
As I held those hands in front of my boobs he quickly yanked down on my panties. "Come on, Mom," he said. "Don't be a prude! Let me see that bush you got!"
I tried to pull those panties back but he had already yanked them all the way down to my knees. I bared my tits as I tried to get those panties back. And my son chuckled and pawed at my tits with one hand while he continued to lower those panties of mine with his other hand.
"Chipper! It's a disgrace! That's what it is! A disgrace!" I blurted out as he forced those panties down. Just when I thought I would be able to get those panties back up to cover my tits he reached around behind me and slipped a finger into my rectum again. Oh, did I howl when that finger pushed into my rear hole. I don't like the feeling of having something up my ass. I really howled again. But once again I'd fallen for one of his ploys. As soon as my hands went back to defend my asshole he drew my panties completely downward and off my long bare legs. Now I was completely nude with my son. I was shocked, humiliated and awfully embarrassed, doctor. I kept trying to hide my pussy and my tits. But there was more exposed than I could hope to cover.
"Please, Chipper," I begged. "Please give mother her clothes back. This just isn't a decent thing to do."
"Bullshit, Mom," that nasty son of mine said. "I'm going to fuck the daylights out of you. You know it and you want it. Otherwise you wouldn't have asked for it."
I tried to convince Chipper that I didn't want it. But I couldn't. He scooped me up in his strong manly arms and quickly turned around and dropped me down on the bed. As he sat me down he kissed me on the lips.
I tried to struggle as he tried to climb on top of me. But as I turned my head away from him he lowered his own head and pushed his lips right to my left tit. He kissed me right on the left nipple. He sucked that tit and he aroused it terribly.
"Chipper!" I moaned to my sixteen-year-old son. "Don't please don't!"
But he ignored me. He caressed one nipple with his tongue while he used his palm and thumb to torment and caress the other nipple. I felt both tits getting hard from the erotic stimulation and the excitement. And I felt my pussy getting wetter and wetter by the second. My whole body was reacting not to a son, but to a son who happened to be a vigorous male in pursuit of my womanhood. For a final time I tried to resist.
"It's just not right," I tried to tell him. "It's just not right!"
But as my words said no my body said yes. I realized that I was actually holding my hands beneath my breasts for him, holding those breasts up so he could more readily caress them with his lips and his hands. Never before had my tits been played with so delicately and so sexily. It was just marvelous the way my own boy could play with my boobs and make them respond so positively to his touches. I hadn't had such fun with my tits since the night my husband made me put whipped cream on my nipples and then had a big red tabby cat lick it all off.
He milked each boob with his mouth just as he had done sixteen years earlier. And as he alternated hand to mouth on one tit and then the other, I subconsciously began to move my legs apart, opening the slot between my legs for him to play with. I didn't realize what I had done until all of a sudden one hand seemed to slip between my inner thighs.
"Oh, no, Chipper!" I moaned. "Not my pussy! Stay out of your dear mother's pussy!"
He was a bad boy, doctor. He didn't listen. He flicked a finger into that slot and began to tease my clitoris. He obviously had learned all about clitorises from this girl he'd been seeing over the summer. He really knew how to tool mine.
"Oh, Chipper," I moaned to him when I felt his finger slip between the upper parts of my pussy lips. "Oh, Chipper, you're right on that wonderful spot!"
"Of course I am, mom," I heard my son say to me in response. "I've got to tool that spot to get you ready."
"Ready?" I panted. "Ready for that big penis of yours?"
"That's right, Mom," he said. "My prick is sure lonely. It's ready and waiting to slip into someone comfortable."
"Oh, shit, Chipper," I moaned to him. "We shouldn't. We shouldn't ... but it feels so good."
"Feel me," he begged as I began to run my hand up and down his knee. "Feel how big you've made my penis, Mom."
I moved my hand up his inner thigh to his hairy balls. I rubbed his hairy balls with my hands for a few seconds and then I moved my palm and fingers onto that big stick of his.
"Huge," I gasped to him as I felt that big stick. "You're simply huge, Chipper," I said. "And you learned all about using your penis over the summer at camp?"
"That's right, Mom," he said. "I learned all sorts of things. And now I'm going to show you the best thing I learned."
He had aroused my pussy to the height of passion by the way he massaged my clit with those penetrating deep rotations of his fingers. My pussy was oozing with desire by now. It was crying out for a hard penis to be shoved into it. I could feel the firmness of his organ and I could even feel the distended blue veins which ran all along the length of his dick. I marveled at how my little boy had grown such a monstrously big organ. And a few seconds later I was to marvel at how extremely well he had learned to use it.
He turned me over onto my back and he gave my pussy a final few strokes with his fingers and fingertips. He brought that little knob of a clit up to a firm peak and then he rubbed the tip of his finger right across its head. "The penis," I moaned to him as continued to fondle his equipment with my hands. I had never known how happy a son could make a mother. But now I was beginning to find out.
"The penis. The penis," I repeated. "I want that prick shoved into me. Please, Chipper, please!"
I held my legs spread part like a Christmas turkey waiting to be stuffed. I panted and I heaved, waiting for that big erection of his to be slipped into me. I moaned for it and I cried out for it.
"Ready, Mom?" He finally asked after he'd tortured my poor body with excitement and expectation.
"Mount me!" I replied. "Mount me! Mount me!"
My sixteen-year-old son Chipper then climbed right up on top of me, doctor, and he swiftly assumed a perfect position right between my wide-apart legs. The head of his big dick pressed its way right between the lips of my vagina. I hunched up my ass and held my pussy into a perfect position for him to shove his dick into me. I gave a little wriggle and my son gave a little shove.
The whole penis quickly slipped into me. It was only maybe six or seven inches long, doctor, but I have never felt a dick that seemed to fill me up and satisfy me like that one did. His cock was magnificent, doctor. It pressed deeply into me and touched way down to the base of my vagina down near my cervix.
"Oh, Chipper!" I cooed in delight as that big prick of his filled me up. You're so fucking big! You're massive down there! What a cock! What a huge cock!"
"Pump, Mom," he said to me. "Really let me feel you pump!"
I slammed my pussy upwards on his big stick and he continued to drive that same big stick downward into me. He briskly worked it back and forth and I throbbed the walls of my pussy against that big organ of his. I took it as far into me as I possibly could. I wrapped my arms and legs around my son and I fucked him a vigorously as I possibly could.
"Balls!" I gasped. "Oh, shit, Chipper," I moaned, "I can feel your big balls pressing against me!"
He pumped his dick briskly in and out. Sure enough. Those balls were pushing firmly against me as he throbbed his inward strokes as far into me as he could thrust.
"Cunt!" I burst out again when he jerked his dick back and forth with a long series of pulsating rapid-fire shots. "Oh, cunt! Shit! Tits! Penis!"
I gasped and I cursed. "Chipper" I finally broke out in ecstasy as I pumped back and forth on that rod of his. "I'm coming, Chipper! I'm coming! I'm coming!"
I held my legs as tightly around his middle as I could. When I felt that penis of his press all the way down to my cervix again I let out a long cursing gasp of satisfaction and I began to orgasm.
"Oh, balls! Oh, balls! Oh, penis! Oh, balls!" I gasped in a long satisfied series of penetrating orgasmic bursts. I felt one fire off right after another. And my whole pussy was convulsed with joy as it positively exploded into orgasms as his long rigid cock worked back and forth in my slot.
I humped my pussy vigorously upwards into his dick and blasted one long orgasm after another. Then, with the delight of any woman getting such a good and thoroughly satisfying fucking, my whole body stiffened as I felt my son's rod grow to its maximum state of erection.
"Now, Chipper?" I gasped to him. "Are you going to come now, Chipper?"
"Soon, Mom," he gasped as he continued to drive that dick of his in and out of my hungry throbbing slot. "Real soon."
"Please," I begged him as I felt my pussy building for the biggest orgasm I'd had yet. "Do it soon. Give it to me soon!"
"I'm going to come, Mom," he suddenly blurted out. I could feel his prick growing and getting ready to spurt loose with a tremendous long gush. "I can't hold it any longer, Mom, I'm going to let it go."
Squirt it! Squirt it!" I exclaimed. And he throbbed that long hard organ back and forth with a few final strokes. I felt the penis spasm, kick, spit, contract and gush forward with a hot jetting stream of come that felt like it was going to flood my entire pussy with a warm supply of cream.
"Oh, Chipper!" I moaned as he cut loose with that long blast and moved me onward to a final long series of orgasmic bursts. "Oh, Chipper! What a massive come!"
It was massive, doctor. That boy of mine gushed forth with enough seeds to sew an entire field for ten years. I had never felt such a long pulsating gush of come down in my vagina. His orgasm must have lasted for several seconds and it felt like he'd unloaded a whole pint of come into me. When his penis finally dribbled to a conclusion I was absolutely breathless. The feeling of all that hot cream rushing down into me had given my pussy the most frantic orgasms that it had ever enjoyed ...
* * *
... Mrs. G. brought her story to a conclusion at that point. I studied the thirty-six year old woman carefully as she spoke. Without any question she had become sexually aroused while telling the story. This wasn't surprising in light of what an intensely erotic experience it had been for her. But it was nevertheless intriguing in light of the fact that she said that she was ashamed of her actions.
"Mrs. G.," I said to her as she lit still another cigarette and puffed nervously on the filter end of it, "it would appear that this was an intensely enjoyable sexual experience for you. Am I wrong?"
"No, doctor," she replied. "You're right. I loved the feeling of my Chipper's dick slipped into my cunt. It was fabulous. But only while it lasted."
"What do you mean by that?" I asked.
"When it was over I was sorry," she said. "Really sorry."
"Why?" I asked.
"Because I felt that my son had done something dirty and obscene," Mrs. G. explained. "And I had been his accomplice. I had urged him into doing it. Sure, part of it had been a misunderstanding, but it never would have happened if I had let the boy alone and not pressed him about what he'd learned at his camp over the summer."
"You had no way of knowing," I reassured her. "You were merely expressing a mother's interest over her son's welfare. You were afraid that he might have 'gone queer' as I think you described it."
"Sure, doctor," she said. "I was worried about that. "But I eventually gave in while he was attacking me. I gave in and opened up my own legs to that big phallus of his. That was something that I felt really guilty about. Why would I have done something like that if I wasn't some sort of pervert?"
"There are many reasons why you might have, Mrs. G.," I said to her. "I could explain the two most likely reasons for you right- now if you wish."
"That would be excellent, doctor," she said.
"But first I need your assurance on one other matter, Mrs. G.," I continued. "I'd like you to promise to return for a second visit. I feel we have other things we can discuss. A second visit on your part would very definitely be beneficial for both of us."
"All right, doctor," she replied. "I agree."
In the moments that remained with our first meeting, I explained two possible clinical explanations for Mrs. G.'s positive reaction to her son's sexual advances. Neither explanation pleased Mrs. G., but it was not my duty to please a patient. It was my duty to constructively analyze the problems of patients.
I explained to Mrs. G. that her initial reaction to her son's advances may have been due to a subconscious incestuous desire which Freudian psychiatrists insist is present within all women. In other words, despite the outward feelings of shock or even humiliation which Freudian psychiatrists insist is present within all women. In other words, despite the outward feeling of shock or even humiliation which Mrs. G. felt when her son attempted to have sex with her, there was a subconscious desire on her part to achieve a complete sexual union with the boy. This a desire which many adult women-including many case histories which have not been included in this study-have freely admitted. The stronger this desire is within a woman, the more conscious-as opposed to subconscious-it becomes.
The second possible explanation was that Mrs. G.'s mind ceased to rule her body during the actual seduction. In other words the physical side of her personality took over and her body reacted positively to something which her mind was reacting negatively to. Mrs. G. complained that while the first explanation dictated that she didn't have control over her emotions this second explanation would suggest that she had no control over her body. In part, as I informed her, she was correct.
All of this would have been a mildly academic matter had her affair with her son begun and ended with the same incident. It did not, however. Despite the fact that she insisted after that first sexual act that they would never have sex again, two further incidents of full sexual intercourse followed within the next two months. These two other incidents were the subject of our discussion during her second interview.
ii
When the attractive thirty-six-year-old housewife returned for her second visit to my offices, she was attired differently than she had been on her first visit.
This time she wore a short but flattering skirt which rose several inches above the knees on her shapely legs. She also wore a tight white sweater that revealed her shape could compare favorably with the shape of women half her age.
"I'd like to get right down to a serious discussion, Mrs. G." I said to the woman as she made herself comfortable on my interviewing couch. She lit her characteristic cigarette and crossed her legs as she lay on my couch.
"What are we going to talk about today?" She asked. "About the other times I fucked with my son?"
"Exactly," I said. "After all, incest is why you're here today."
"Sure it is," she said. "But I get so sick of talking about incest. I made the mistake of mentioning it to some other women I know. They're mothers, too. Well, now they tell me about their incestuous doings. It's all getting very boring."
"It may be boring to you, Mrs. G.," I said to her. "But there are several thousand or several million people across this great nation who'll be interested in hearing your story. After all, not everyone interested in incest gets to participate.
"They're lucky," said Mrs. G. "Incest is a pain in the asshole."
"That's easy for you to say, Mrs. G.," I said to her as I led her toward the topic of discussion for the afternoon. But you said yourself that you enjoyed sex with your son the first time that it happened."
"True," she said. "And I also admitted that I thought I was a pervert for liking it."
"I think you're being unnecessarily harsh with yourself again," I said.
"I don't," she said. "Incest is a mistake. I'd prefer to never have participated in it. I mean that, doctor."
"And after you participated the first time you swore you'd never do it again even though you liked it," I reminded her. "Isn't that right?"
"It is," she admitted.
"Yet you have done it again," I continued. "Despite this oath that you'd never do it again you still admit to having done it again a few times."
"Not a few times, doctor," she corrected me. "Only twice."
"Twice?" I asked. "And I suppose you're going to tell me that it wasn't your fault either time."
"My fault in what way?" She asked anxiously.
"Did you instigate either time?" I asked.
"Definitely not," she said. "I wouldn't start something like that."
"You might not start it, but you seem prone to participate if someone else begins things. Isn't that a correct assessment of your situation?"
"Not at all," she insisted. "I think that's a very insulting conclusion which you just drew."
"Maybe it is," I allowed. "But if it is then I assume you'd be able to convince me otherwise."
"Otherwise?" She asked.
"Yes," I said. "Do you insist that you were actually seduced on these two new occasions?"
"I certainly do," she said. "Seduced is exactly what happened to me."
"Twice?" I asked.
"Twice!" She insisted heatedly.
"Obviously you're a genuine pushover for your son," I chided. "Do you think he manages to bed other women with similar ease?"
"Doctor, I find this line of questioning completely insulting!" Snapped Mrs. G. "I would think that a man in your profession would at least have the courtesy and decency to ..."
"Mrs. G.," I said calmly, "please calm yourself. "If I'm wrong you can illustrate how wrong I am by telling me how these two other seductions occurred. Would that be too difficult?"
"It wouldn't be difficult," she said tersely, "it would be a pleasure. I just want you to see how wrong you are."
"Be my guest, Mrs. G.," I said. "Please begin."
Mrs. G. then described the second and third times that she had sexual intercourse with her son. These are her words ...
... After the first time that Chipper fucked me I was determined that I'd never let a horrible thing like that happen again. Incestuous sex was something dirty and disgraceful as far as I was concerned. It was something that maybe primitive people might do. Or that animals might do. But it just wasn't the type of thing that people from our family background did. Plus, I found it to be repugnant, even though it might have felt very nice at the time.
Well, there were two of us involved in this incestuous thing. And since there were two of us it certainly wasn't going to do me much good to keep my thoughts to myself. So I told Chipper point blank what I was thinking.
"This type of thing will never happen again," I said to my son. He got a devilish little smirk on his face when he heard me say that. It was a defiant little grin which almost dared me to try to stay away from him sexually. I was so distressed by that smirk of his that I had to repeat my original statement with some extra emphasis.
"I mean what I say, Chipper," I intoned soberly. "There will never be a second occasion on which this happens. We did something dirty and immoral which we should be ashamed of. I never want to think about or mention this awful act again. Do you understand what I'm talking about?"
"Sure, Mom," he said with an impish tone of voice again. "I understand."
"I hope so," I said. "I certainly hope so."
Well, I could hope so, but deep down inside me I knew differently. I knew that he had plans to do something again some time. But I tried to deny that my son would try that same disgusting act with me twice. And in trying to ignore the fact of what he was probably thinking, I led myself right into round two of my sexual encounters with my son.
You see, what I did was try to deny that the first fuck had ever happened. And in trying to do that I brought myself into the following situation.
It was about ten days after that boy of mine had first fucked me. I had just managed to move that horrible incident into the back of my mind. And I as I slowly was able to forget about that incident I again became curious about what he had learned at camp that summer. Or to be a little more accurate, I became interested again in what else he had learned at camp that summer. I didn't want to know any more details about what my sixteen-year-old son might have learned in some girl's tent each night for two weeks.
So it was on a rainy Wednesday afternoon just after he'd come home from his first day at the new school he is going to this year. It was on this Wednesday afternoon that the second incident took place.
"Chipper," I said to him as I approached him in the living room of our house, "I think I'd like to have a word with you again."
"About what, Mom?" He asked.
"About your camp," I said to him. I was proud of myself that I was able to bravely face this same subject matter. "I want to talk about your camp and what you might have learned while you were there."
"Aw, Mom," he said with disappointment. "We're not going to go through all this again, are we?"
"What do you mean by 'all this'?" I asked.
"The same stuff as last time," he said. "The time I tossed you over on the bed and fucked you in the traditional missionary style."
My face was red with embarrassment from what he'd said. I had been trying to forget the incident. Yet each time he mentioned it or I thought of it I felt naked in front of him. It was bad enough that my son had seen me nude. But even worse, I couldn't shake the fact that he had actually penetrated my body.
"We most certainly are not going to discuss the missionary method of fucking," I said to him sternly. "What I wanted to know was whether or not you learned anything else besides that."
He thought for a moment, looked at me carefully, and then replied. "Well, sure I did," he said.
"Good. I want to know about it," I said.
Aw, Mom," he complained, "I don't want to go through all this shit again. Can't you just leave me alone?"
"That camp was very expensive, Chipper," I said firmly. "I want to know what good you got out of it."
"I got a lot of good out of it," he said. "Can't you just take my word for it?"
"No," I said. "I want the proof."
"But you're going to be pissed off when you get the proof, Mom," he said. "Honest. You don't want me to answer that question."
"I most certainly do," I argued. "Now don't come at me with any more of these missionary style fucking techniques because that's not what I want to know about. I want to know what else you learned up there in Vermont."
"Gosh, Mom," he said with seeming lack of understanding, "you really know how to embarrass a guy. I suppose you want a demonstration of what else I learned. Is that what you want?"
"That would be very nice if it's convenient," I said to him. Obviously I didn't know what I was getting into me. I was making my same a little more accurately, I didn't realize what I was getting into me. I was making my same mistake all over again. And I didn't even realize it.
I looked at my son carefully and suddenly I was aware of the way he was looking at me. He was looking at my legs and then he was looking at my bust area. Then, as I followed his eyes, I realized that he was staring right at my pussy area.
"Chipper," I said anxiously, "I want you to be a good boy and behave yourself."
"But you said you wanted a demonstration of anything else I learned," he said.
"That's right," I replied. "I do."
"Okay, Mom," he countered. "That's exactly what you're going to get."
He stood up and started to come toward me. I looked at his very intent eyes and then I looked at his pants. There was that old familiar bulge beneath his fly again. And it was a bulge that means only one thing when a man is carrying one around. It means his prong is up and he's ready to fuck.
"Chipper!" I said as I began to hold my hand in front of my tits and in front of my pussy area. "You said you'd behave."
"You asked for a demonstration," he answered.
"Yes," I answered as he drew closer. "But not of the same thing as last time."
"This isn't going to be the same thing, Mom," he replied. "It's something completely different."
He was just a few feet away now. "Chipper! Control yourself!" I exclaimed.
"Want to know what it is?" He asked. "Want to know what you just asked for?"
"What?" I asked, continuing to hold my hands over my vital areas.
"You asked me for the other thing I learned this summer," he said. "The other position."
"Other position?" I asked with trembling hands and knees. "What other position?"
"The doggie fashion fucking position," Chipper said. "That was the other thing that Sally taught me.
"Chipper! No!" I exclaimed.
"Sure thing, Mom," he said. "You don't think that Sally let me hump her in that same old way, do you? We wanted variety. So we did it doggie fashion quite a lot."
"But, Chipper!" I exclaimed again. "The last thing I want to do is get fucked by you again! Especially in the doggie fashion!"
"That's too bad, Mom," he said. "Because it's not the last thing you're going to do. It's the next!"
I tried to turn and get out of that living room where that beastly son of mine had me as a captive of my own curiosity. But as I turned he grabbed be by the arm and pulled me back to him. I pushed at him to try and push him away. But his strong young arms wrapped themselves around me and the next thing I knew his hands were all over my boobs, feeling them up briskly and making my nipples harden with excitement.
"No, Chipper!" I pleaded with him. "Not again! Anything but this again!"
"It's going to be completely different this time, Mom," he promised as he wrestled with me. "This time it's going to be doggie style. And all women know that doggie style is unlike anything else in the world."
As I tried to push him away he dug his hands under my blouse and managed to force that blouse open in front. My bra was the only thing that held my tits in a covered position. And suddenly he had loosened the bra by quickly moving his hand up behind my back and unsnapping the hooks back there.
As I struggled to hook up my bra again he did something which I didn't think men were capable of. He managed to get one hand loose beneath my skirt and with one quick yank he managed to lower my panties completely without disturbing my skirt at all.
"No, Chipper!" I begged again, tears forming in my eyes as I knew that I was going to be subjected to this perverted act of incest for a second time. "Not the panties! Anything but the panties!"
"Don't be silly, Mom," he growled as he lowered them all the way to my ankles and then pulled them off me. I held my legs together in defense but I knew it wasn't going to do much good.
"Don't be silly, Mom," he repeated. "How can I fuck you with your panties on?"
"You can't!" I insisted. "That's the whole point!"
"You're being absurd, Mom," he insisted. "What you asked for is exactly what you're going to get!"
I was starting to beg him again but he pushed his mouth to mine and started to kiss me passionately. I could feel my body reacting to his physical maleness. His mouth forced mine open and his tongue burst into my mouth, just in the same manner that a tongue can burst into a pussy or a penis can burst into a hot wet vagina. My tongue met his and my body and resistance began to melt in the passion of his embrace.
"Chipper," I said meekly for the final time. "Not again. Please, not again."
"It's too late to complain, Mom," he said. "I'm already hard. And I want to fuck doggie style. You've turned my body on too much to be able to turn it off."
I rubbed against my son and he wrapped his arms around me as he continued to kiss me in the passionately soulful French way. The hardness of his rod was bursting up from his crotch and rubbing against me, reminding me again how good a young man's rigid organ feels when it's slipped briskly into my vagina. I began to wonder how his dick would feel when it was slipping into me from the backside. Thinking about such a potentially wonderful feeling made my vagina water with excitement.
My boobs were firmly capped with nipples as he rubbed against me. And then his hands went exploring again, this time slipping under that short skirt of mine. My muff was bare of course since he'd already taken my panties from me.
His one hand held the left cheek of my ass while the other hand pushed right up against my bare pussy. I wriggled slightly and although he was a few inches away from me, my son's penis stood up so hard that I could feel the hardness bulging under his pants. Without really knowing what I was doing, I reached down to my son's belt and I unbuckled it.
As I undid that belt, a few of his fingers slipped between the lips of my vagina.
"Wetness," he said to me very tenderly as he explored down there. "You're all wet already."
"You'd be wet too," I said, "if you had a sexy son who was always trying to fuck you."
"Not always, Mom," Chipper said with a smile. "This is just the second time." He kissed me on the lips again and the tip of his finger brushed the head of my clitoris. "The second time," he added, "but I swear it'll be even better than the first time."
"Oh, Chipper," I moaned to him as his fingertip teased and tormented my clit. "I don't see how it can be possible."
"Doggie style lets me push in as far as I can possibly go," he informed me. "That's how it's possible."
As that one hand played with my clit the other hand loosened the snaps of my skirt. Seconds later my skirt slid off me and dropped to the floor. I was bare bottomed, wearing only the disheveled shirt and bra that partially covered my top. My vagina was thrilled to be bare again and even more thrilled to be played with by his knowing fingers. As he continued to tease my clit I reached to that big bulging fly of his.
I unzipped his fly quickly and I reached in there, barely pausing to unbutton the top of his pants as I passed by. I reached through the front slot of his underpants and I pulled out that big tool of his. Then I began to stroke it.
"Just as big as last time," I said. "If not a little bit bigger. You're huge, Chipper. You're huge!"
I stroked his rod and he continued to tease my pussy with those light rubbings on my clitoris. My pussy was soaking wet by now and I really wanted a cock in there. The idea that I was committing incest was far from my mind now. I guess I could honestly admit, doctor, that I was out of control because of my physical desire. And I mean completely out of control.
I let my son take my bra and blouse off my body and I was then completely nude. He pulled his own pants down and off and then slipped out of his underpants and his shirt.
"Come on, Mom," he then said to me. "Get into doggie style position. You know what I mean, get down on those hands and knees and keep those legs apart."
I did what he wanted, doctor, but it just wasn't my fault. I just can't be blamed for my actions. After all, he had my body so turned on that any woman in my place would have wanted to fuck the first big prick that came her way.
I got down on all fours and I waited for my son to please me. Then he got down on his knees behind me and I could feel the hard head of his prick pushing against the cheeks of my ass. He moved that prick around and I responded by moving my ass from right to left, giving my son a moving target to shoot at.
"Give it to me," I panted to him. "Let me feel it inside my crack.
He gave me what I finally asked for. He pushed his dick between the folds of my vagina as he mounted me from the rear. He shoved his dick completely into me and then started to push.
That long cock of his sloshed into my wet box. He held me firmly by the hips and started to move that dick of his briskly back and forth. I could feel his balls swinging wildly and banging up against me as he shoved his dick in and out. I felt my pussy brewing for a big orgasm and I gasped and sighed in delight as that long tool of his banged back and forth.
"That's it, Chipper!" I squealed. "Really pump pump it in and out of me!"
I was delighted with the driving pulsating action of his cock. In and out it pressed. I continued to moan and sigh in delight and I felt my pussy starting to work up a good series of orgasms.
"That's it," I moaned. "I'm coming! I'm coming!" My whole pussy exploded in the delights of orgasm as he pumped back and forth. I hadn't been fucked doggie style for months. And oh, did that ever feel good down there!
He let his penis drive back and forth at jack hammer speed. The prick throbbed and started to grow as he continued to pump his balls and prick up against my big welcoming motherly slot. I pounded my pussy backwards on him and I knew his penis was growing for a big burst of orgasmic bliss. I knew it and I pumped my pussy hard and felt my orgasms explode. Then I started to feel him come.
His penis shot off with a tremendous gushing torrent of sperm. It flew out of his prick and spattered all over the pink inner walls of my vagina. And as my son's penis squirted its seminal load down into me I got off the biggest orgasms I'd had so far. It was a big pulsating rip that tore through my whole body.
"Oh, shit, what a son!" I yelped as that dick of his exploded in those long spasming torrents of come. "What a spasming dick! And what a son for a cocksman!"
I ground my pussy backwards against his prong until it shot its full load and went soft inside me. I leaned my ass back against him and I ground my slot against his rod until I was satisfied that I'd drained his balls of every drop they had to offer ...
... "And that was the second time you had sex with the boy?" I then asked Mrs. G.
"That's right," she said. "I was seduced again."
"Without going into elaborate details," I then said, "can you tell me about the third time?"
"It was very similar, doctor," she said. "I was in my bedroom changing clothes when Chipper happened to be looking at me from the hallway. He saw me naked and came in after me."
"Why hadn't you closed the door?" I inquired.
"I just didn't think of it," said Mrs. G. "A woman can't think of everything."
"Did you know he was close-by when you began to change?" I asked.
"I did, doctor, yes. But I didn't leave the door open on purpose. I just forgot about it."
"I didn't say or suggest that you did leave it open on purpose," I said to her. "But what happened after he came into the room?"
"I tried to hide my muff from him," she said. "I held up a magazine in front of my pussy as he walked toward me. But it didn't work. He pulled the magazine away from me and tossed it away. It flew out the window as a matter of fact."
"And then you made love?" I asked.
"We did," she said. "I resisted again. I tried to fight him off. But when I saw what a big prong he had I just lost control of myself again. I sat right down on that prick as he lay back on the bed with his rod pointing in the air. He made me sit right down on it. I didn't put up much of a fight, doctor, but it sure wasn't my idea!"
"Thank you Mrs. G.," I then said to the thirty-six-year-old housewife. "I have no further questions."
CONCLUSION TO CASE HISTORY TWO
I agreed with Mrs. G. that there might have been a mistake of intentions during the first incident in which her son was led to have sex with her. The boy was asked what he had learned at camp and his mother firmly insisted that he demonstrate."
But also I cited the well known Chicago psychologist George Herbert Mead and his work entitled On Social Psychology. In the late Dr. Mead's final chapter, The Objective Reality of Perspectives, Dr. Mead explains how a subject can delude herself into believing a certain reality to be the case that reality is known in the subconscious not to be the case. Thinking one thing and outwardly espousing another may be the starting point of chronic schizophrenia (See Wolfgang Kohler's Gestalt Psychology as well as Freud's The Paths of Symptom Formation) and should thus be avoided at all cost. Thus I felt it essential to lead Mrs. G. to the actual reality of her situation and lead her away from dangerous delusional ideas.
The fact is that the boy, her son, did actively take the role of the seducer. He had learned how to function within this adult role and it was a role which he played again at his mother's request. So it is not possible to say that Chipper was seduced by his mother. It was in fact he who seduced her.
It was similar in the other two instances which Mrs. G. described. Always she was the passive partner who put up at least a "token" resistance. This word token is important here because it aptly sums up this case.
While the first sexual encounter might have been laid to misunderstanding or curiosity, it is virtually impossible that the same thing would happen again (twice) if the female partner in this case were not acquiescing to it. In other words, it was my opinion that while Mrs. G. was nevertheless not taking the role of the seductress she was willing to be seduced just as long as she was able to put up this token resistance.
Why was she acting this way? The answer is clear.
Mrs. G., like many women of her age and generation, feels that having sex with a son or other close relative (i.e., a brother or an uncle) is a perverted thing to do. There is still the traditional stigma attached to incest in these people's minds. And nothing will erase that stigma.
With incest being such a taboo to these people, it is virtually impossible that they would be able to accept the conscious knowledge that they are seeking and enjoying this incestuous form of sex. Thus these people create myths that they can live with. In The Sexual Life of Man, Freud discusses such myths.
One of these myths was the myth that it is the "other" party who is responsible for the seduction. This is the myth that Mrs. G. chose to live by. This is the rationalization for her committing incest three times. Mrs. G., in short, was unable to accept reality which I attempted to deal with.
I informed Mrs. G. of my theory on her case and I explained things to her as carefully as I could. The woman was outraged by my indications that she actually enjoyed and in some ways sought out incest. She threatened to leave my office on the spot.
I explained to her that her threat to leave my office was systematic of the flaws in her character. I indicated that again she was unable to accept reality and was attempting to flee from it by leaving my office ... just as she fled from the reality of incest by fabricating a rational excuse for why she had committed it three different times.
It was at that point in the interview that Mrs. G. became uncontrollably angry and stood up from the couch. She cursed me and my profession and angrily informed me that I had completely misinterpreted everything she had said. She further accused me of fabricating a theory around the very innocent facts that she had given me.
Unfortunately, Mrs. G.'s reaction to my analysis was completely predictable in accordance with the analysis that I had made of her case. Mrs. G. had taken on an extremely defensive psychological position since she did not wish to have to admit either to me or to herself that she had actually enjoyed the illicit acts which she had shared with her son. Thus her vehemence in denying her enjoyment of incest was simply in keeping with her defensive tactic of blaming her son for the occurrence of incest. And like the rest of her defensive psychological mechanisms, her verbal defense of herself simply could not stand the test of logic.
Why was Mrs. G. so defensive about admitting to her enjoyment of incestuous sexual intercourse? I believe there are two reasons. The first is almost self-evident. The second is not quite so readily apparent.
First, there is the incest taboo. It is understandably difficult to consider any case of incest without taking into account the factor of the incest taboo. In a society such as ours where incest is so thoroughly proscribed as an immoral degenerate act, we must consider what societal pressures bring to bear on a mother who actually does commit incest with her son.
The mother must feel a certain sense of guilt. Guilt is often an integral part of the commission of the act. (See Robert A. Harper's Psychoanalysis and Psychotherapy: 36 Systems) Guilt is a ponderous thing to weigh upon the human consciousness and a woman like Mrs. G. who is not ready to ignore such guilt must find ways of dealing with it. One such way is through the various psychological defenses which were so evident in this particular case history.
And second there is the matter of what Freud refers to as "family relationships," relationships in the intra-family structure. Freud discusses these relationships in his Archaic and Infantile features in dreams.
But what is important here is Freud's assertion that we all attempt to slip comfortably into the proper family roles that each of us might find. That is to say that a mother who functions properly in the mother-child relationship will seek to cling to that role and remain in it as long as possible. This, many psychologists agree, is why it is often difficult for a parent to accept the fact that his/her children have become adults. Accepting such a fact presupposes the need for the parent to move to a parent-adult relationship with he or she who has previously been the child in a parent-child relationship. (See Dr. Eric Berne's Games People Play.) The parent, fearing the loss of the comfort and familiarity of the old relationship, often balks at the prospects of the new relationship. The result can be a serious trauma for the parent.
Similarly, Mrs. G. in this case subconsciously knew that she had upset the old relationship which had existed between herself and her son. But she balked at accepting the new relationship. The result, of course, was her purely defensive pattern of delusionary thinking which would not fully acknowledge that she was fully involved in a full-fledged sexual affair with her son. I have often commented that incest is not good for mental health. This particular case would vindicate that suspicion.
CASE HISTORY THREE
Young Jerry A., fourteen years of age and a student in the ninth grade in a public California school, was referred to me by the concerned parent of one of his friends.
"Jerry," I said to the boy, "I'm not sure why you've been sent to me. Is it because of any sexual misconduct on your part?"
"No, sir," said Jerry. "I didn't misbehave at all. I haven't done anything wrong."
"I see," I said as I looked at the boy. His hair was long and moderately shaggy. He wore jeans and a green army fatigue jacket. His attire was similar to many others of his generation, yet the boy was able to speak to me cordially and not resent my questions or my insistence on answers.
"Why exactly are you here then?" I asked as the boy flicked one fingernail against another. "Is it because of any sexual fantasies you might have been having?"
"Nope," the boy said. "I don't have any need for fantasies. I have sex with a woman. So I don't have to imagine things. I have my fun in real life."
"I see," I said as I began to sense movement in the proper direction. "And is it because of these sex acts you've been having that you've been referred to me?"
"Indirectly," he said.
"Indirectly?" I asked, repeating his answer as a question in itself. "What do you mean?"
"It's because of the things I've been doing with my penis," fourteen-year-old Jerry said. "It's because of the things that someone else has been doing with his mouth."
"Oralism" I asked, genuinely confused by the boy's line of explanation.
"Not oralism," he said. "Talking. I'm here because a shit-assed buddy of mine talked too much to his old lady. Now do you follow me?"
"I'd like more details," I said. "Will you give them to me?" I watched the boy patiently as I asked him to explain with better detail. He remained patient.
"All right, look," he said. "I was having some sex with a certain woman. It was a woman who was very close to me. Very dear to me. She seduced me, I guess, but I don't mind. It was her idea that started it and I'm sure not going to stop now. But I should never have opened my mouth about it, that's for sure."
"Opened your mouth to whom?" I asked.
"My pal named Arnie Potvin," said Jerry. "I told Arnie about it and he went and shot off that big mouth of his to his old lady, his mother. Then she went and shot off her mouth to you. And that's how I got here."
"I see," I said. "It would appear that Arnie's mother didn't approve of a boy of your age indulging in sex."
"That wasn't it at all," said Jerry.
"It wasn't?" I asked.
"Nope," said Jerry. "She knows that her own kid has banged a few females in the pussy from time to time. What old Mrs. Potvin didn't like was the woman I was fucking. She didn't think it was right."
"Continue," I said. "What woman were you having sex with?"
"My Mom," said Jerry. "I was giving her some of the thrills of her life with this nice big cock I've got."
There was obvious pride in Jerry's voice. The boy was obviously taking a certain amount of glee from the fact that he'd had sex with his own mother. As he spoke his hand went to his crotch area and he patted himself on the genitals.
"I've got a nice big hunk of meat in there, doctor," said young Jerry. "Mom found out the direct way. Mrs. Potvin had to find out second hand."
"How did your mother find out directly?" I asked. "Was it your idea?"
"No, sir," said Jerry quickly. "The fact is that I was real scared the first time it happened. I would hardly have started something like that myself."
"I see," I said. "Then tell me how your mother happened to arrive at the idea."
"She didn't," said Jerry. "I don't think it was her idea either."
"I'm confused," I admitted. "It must have been the idea of one person first unless it happened purely spontaneously."
"It was spontaneous," said Jerry as he moved some of his hair back behind his ears. "But it wasn't Mom or me who thought up the idea."
"Was there a third person involved?" I asked.
"Yup," said Jerry.
"Who?"
"Dad," he said. "My father started things off one night when he couldn't handle Mom. I guess you could say that Dad had to call in some reinforcements," Jerry laughed and he patted himself on the crotch again. I found that gesture to be particularly crude and self-serving. But I said nothing about it to the boy. I was more interested in getting at this odd story which he seemed to be on the brink of telling me.
"I suppose you remember this particular night fairly well, Jerry," I said to the boy. "Am I correct?"
"It's the first time I ever balled a woman," he said. "It's the type of thing I'd tend to remember. How about you, doctor? Do you remember the first hot wet cunt that you ever got into?"
"That's not within the scope of this interview," I replied calmly to the boy. "What I'm interested in is incest, sex acts between boys and their mothers. Are you willing to speak candidly about your own involvement?"
"Sure," he said.
"Are you willing to tell me about your father's role in this?" I asked. "It would appear that he played an integral part in this incestuous relationship."
"I'll tell you all about it," Jerry said. "What do you want to know about?"
"I want to know about the first incidence of intercourse between you and your mother," I said to the boy. "I want to know all the details about how and when it happened. Can you tell me about all that?"
"Of course I can," he said. I allowed the boy to take off his greenish gray fatigue jacket and relax on the couch with just his jeans and shirt. His boots were caked with mud and were actually flaking particles of dirt onto my leather couch. But in the interest of science and not willing to risk offending or antagonizing the boy, I didn't mention that his boots would be preferably on the floor. Instead I let him speak. These are his words as they appear in the tape recording of my interview with the fourteen-year-old student ...
... I can remember it very well, doctor. It seems like just the other day when Dad had to call me in to finish off the hot unsatisfied pussy that Mom was sporting one late spring night.
I was lying in my bed drifting off to sleep when I heard voices down the hall. It was Mom and Dad talking. I listened to them talk and then I heard footsteps coming toward my room.
I was lying in my own bed minding my own business when I heard my father come to my door. He opened the door, reached inside and put the room light on.
"Jerry," he said to me. "Get up."
I sat up in bed. "What is it, Dad?" I asked, thinking something was wrong. "What's going on?"
"Don't ask questions right now," he said to me. "Just come with me."
"Where are we going?"
"You're coming into the bedroom with your mother and me," Dad said to me. "Now hurry up. This is very important."
Well, doctor, I was pretty confused when I got up out of my bed and followed him. I didn't know what he'd want me to be doing for him at that time of the night. It was an hour at which everyone should be asleep ... or at least in bed.
Dad was just wearing a pair of underpants, a big baggy boxer-style pair of shorts. I was wearing a pair of pajamas and Mom, when I saw her sitting on that bed in my parent's bedroom, just had a lace nightie on. I took a good look at Mom as she smiled to me as I entered the room. Her face was very attractive yet very anxious, as if she were anticipating something important. I took a second look at her and saw her big boobs were revealed by that sexy little nightgown of hers.
"Shit!" I thought to myself. "I can see why Dad married her. She's sure got a nice set of knockers!"
"Hello, Jerry," Mom cooed at me when I came into their bedroom. "How's my favorite little man tonight?"
"Who me?" I asked. Dad made me sit down at the edge of the bed. Mom was on one side of me and Dad was on the other. I was surrounded and I was beginning to think that they hadn't just called me in there to kiss everyone good night.
"Yes, you." Mom said as she wrapped her arms around my shoulders. "You're my favorite young man, aren't you?"
"If you say so, Mom," I said nervously. I didn't know why that arm was folded around me in that particular way. There was something very different about the way she was holding her arm around my shoulder- She had never done it in this way before.
"If I say so?" she asked. "Will you do anything on my say-so?" she asked.
"I guess I would Mom," I said. "Within reason, of course."
"That's a very fine attitude to have," my father chimed in from the other side of me. "And it's a particular valuable attitude to have right now."
"It is?" I asked.
"It certainly is," he replied. "You see, Jerry," he continued in his most fatherly tone of voice. "You're growing up now, and you're becoming a man."
"I guess I am," I said, not really knowing what else to say. I shrugged and looked at each parent. They looked at each other as they spoke to me, and they seemed to exchange furtive grins back and forth.
"And now that you're becoming a man," my mother said to me as she continued on the same train of thought, "you're going to have different duties then you've ever had before. You are going to have to accept the duties which go with growing up and being a man."
"Duties?" I asked. "What duties are they?"
"Well, Jerry," said my father as my mother's hand started to toy with my ear lobes and the hair at the nape of my neck, "I guess the most important duty is the duty that men have toward women."
"Oh," I said quietly with a moderate amount of embarrassment. "You mean the duty to make a woman happy?"
"That's right," said my father triumphantly. "The duty to make women happy. That's exactly it. That's one of the duties that you have as a man."
"And it's one of the first duties you have to learn about, Jerry," my mother said. "Because that's the duty which women will insist upon."
"I understand," I said.
"That's why you have to learn about that duty when you're very young, Jerry," my father said. "And that's why you're going to learn about that duty tonight. Right here. Right now."
"Oh," I said again. "Well, I think I understand, Dad," I said. "Now if I can just go back to be-"
"Not so quickly," he said to me, grabbing my shoulder as I tried to get up from that bed. "I'm not sure whether you completely understand what this duty entails."
"What does it entail?" I asked.
"It entails doing the thing which makes all women purr like big contented cats," said my mother as I turned to look at her. Her one arm was behind my back at the time. The other was placed on my leg, half way between the knee and the left nut.
"And what's that?" I asked.
"That duty," said my mother, "is the placing of your hard penis into the spot where it will please the woman most. You have to put it into that little slot between her legs. That's what women really like, Jerry."
"That's what makes them yowl like cats when they want it and purr like kittens when they get it," Dad added. He always had an excellent way of explaining things.
"But ... but ... but how can I learn that tonight?" I asked in a flustered voice. "I mean, how can-?"
"You and your mother are going to do it together," said my father. "And I'm going to watch."
"Me and Mom?" I gasped. "Do what? It?"
"Of course," said Dad. "You're going to fuck. Mom's going to let you put your penis inside her vagina. You're going to rub it back and forth until you ejaculate. What could possibly be easier or pleasanter than that?"
"But ...!"
"Have you ever fucked before?" Mom asked.
"No, Mom, never!" I exclaimed. "And that's why I don't think I should now! I think that-"
"But your penis is probably ready to fuck, isn't it?" she asked. "Do you get big hard's every once in a while?"
"Sometimes, Mom, but-"
"Well, if you get big hard erections," my father suggested, "then you probably have wet dreams, too. Tell me honestly, son, do wake up in the early morning with big puddles of sperm all over the sheets?"
I guess my face was really red by this time. I didn't know whether to say yes or no. So I tried to answer evasively. "I guess maybe sometimes I do, but-"
"Sometimes?" Dad asked me, his tone of voice implying that he knew it was more than just sometimes.
"All the time," my mother replied for me. "Just about every morning when I make his bed I find scum marks all over his sheets. You should see his pajamas. The crotches are all crusty on just about every pair he puts into the laundry."
"Mom!" I exclaimed in extreme embarrassment. "Please! I-"
"Well if he's having wet dreams he's probably playing with his prick also," said my father. "Is it true, Jerry?" he asked. "Are you playing with your meat these days?"
"Dad, I-"
"Answer the question," Mom insisted. "I know there's a big pile of sex magazines and sex books under your bed. Do you use them when you play with your penis?"
"All right," I finally admitted. "I do."
"Well, then!" my mother exclaimed in triumph. "That's all we need to know."
"About what?" I asked.
"About your penis and your sex development," she said. "If you're old enough to play with your meat then you're old enough to give me a big hunk of beef!"
"Mom!" I cried out.
"Don't act like a baby, Jerry," said my father sternly. "It's your manly duty to make women happy through the discreet use of your penis. And tonight's the night for you to start."
"But with Mom?"
"Why not?" he asked. "Your mother wants to be satisfied. So we've invited you in to satisfy her. I'm just going to watch how things go."
"But Dad?" I asked. "You're married to Mom. Why aren't you the one to put your penis into her and give her some satisfaction."
"Normally I do," said Dad. "But ... well, I'm suffering from man's most serious problem tonight."
Dad hung his head a little as he told me about that problem I figured it must have been an awful one.
"Golly, Dad," I asked. "What is it?"
"He won't erect," my mother blurted out. "Your father hasn't been able to get an erection for almost two weeks now."
"Shit!" I said as Dad's head hung a little. "I get hard so often that I can't even control it. If I didn't beat my meat twice a day I wouldn't ever be soft. It would just be one big aching stick all the time."
"That's because you're young and vigorous, Jerry," said my mother. "And it's because your father is getting along in years. Hell. He'll be thirty-seven next month. That's over the hill. A man slows down after twenty-five or so."
"Jeepers," I said, looking at how ashamed and embarrassed my father was. I felt sorry for him. But my mother was holding me very tightly with her arm now and I was starting to get excited from talking about sex like that.
"And because you happen to be so young, vigorous and ready to go," she said to me as she gave me a soft warm kiss on the cheek, "I'm going to let you into my little honey pot tonight. Your father is going to watch because it might excite him enough to let him get hard, too. But the main thing is, Jerry, that you and I are going to make torrid love!"
As she said that she moved her hand up from my thigh right to my crotch. She rubbed my balls as I tried to hold my legs together for protection.
"Don't cover up, Jerry," she said. "Loosen those legs. I know what's in there and if you don't bring it right out I'm going in after it!"
I released the tension that held my legs together. Mom reached through the frontal fly at the crotch of my pajamas. She reached in that and wrapped her small feminine hand around my tool. She flicked the tip of her finger across that long blue vein on the underside of my prick and she made that big prick rise up to its full hardness.
"Mom," I gasped as I started to breathe hard. "You're the first woman to ever touch me down there."
"I may be the first," she smiled, "but I won't be the last." She pulled my long hard organ out of that frontal slot on my pajamas. The big prong leaned out of there and stuck out a full six or seven inches. "There will be many more females after that prick," she said as she admired it, "just as soon as the word gets around about how handsome it is."
"You really think so, Mom?" I asked hopefully as she rubbed up my prong and made it ache with the desire to come.
"I certainly do think so," she affirmed. "Jerry, I'm a good student of penises because I've seen a lot of them in my time. Yours is an excellent one even if it were on a full grown man. You just wait till you're twenty, son. By that time you'll really have a whopper down there."
"Gosh, Mom," I said. "It looks pretty big to me already."
"It is big Jerry," she said in return. "And that's why it's essential that you use it right now to assert your ability to fulfill your male chores."
She unsnapped the waist elastic on my pajamas and the whole crotch area of those pajamas opened up. She moved both her hands inside those pajamas and she started to caress my balls and my prick. She rubbed me nicely down there and thoroughly excited my entire genital area.
"I think you ought to get undressed," said Dad to Mom. "You should show the boy your body before you ask him to make love to you."
Mom smiled to Dad. Then she looked back to me.
"Jerry?" she asked. "Would you like to see your mother naked?"
Well, doctor, I was already hard now and even though it was very embarrassing I wanted to do whatever I needed to do to please my parents and satisfy the feelings of horniness which I had down between my legs. So I answered accordingly.
"Sure, Mom," I replied. "I'm just dying to see all your stuff. Are you going to show me?"
Mom blushed like a little girl. I figured it was a coy little act because any woman cock-wise as she is doesn't blush when it comes to putting the goods on display. Mom's got it and she likes to flaunt it.
Mom pulled away the front of that nightgown and I watched the soft laced silken material fall away from those big breasts of hers.
As the gown slipped down off her I saw the two big nipples that rode like reddish caps on the tips of her jugs. She seemed very proud of her breasts when she showed them to me. She thrust them out slightly and shook them for me to admire.
"Ever see jugs like that, son?" My father asked as I eyed those two big knockers that Mom was showing off. "When you get a little older," Dad continued, "Mom will let you have one of her specialties, a breast roll."
"What's that?" I asked Dad.
"That's when I put a penis between my boobs and roll the boobs back and forth against the shaft of the penis," Mom said with that sexy low voice of hers. "It can usually make a man come in about sixty seconds. She paused and then continued. "But your father has gotten used to it," she says. "And now I can't even use it to make him get hard anymore."
That shut Dad up. Mom went back to her strip show. She pulled the sheets away from her and she showed how the nightie was all down around her hips and pussy now.
"Don't be surprised when I slide out of this," she said to me in a soft and understanding maternal voice. "But I don't have any panties on underneath."
My prick gave a slight wriggle when she told me that.
"I never wear anything when I expect to get fucked," she said. "I was hoping that your father would be able to satisfy me tonight. But he can't, Jerry. So I guess it was you who I took my panties off for."
Mom slid that nightie completely off her body. She drew it away from her and I saw the big dark triangle of pussy hair that was revealed by her stripping. She showed me her bush and she smiled cutely as I stared at it.
"Do you like it?" She asked me.
"Real nice, Mom," I said as I tried to flatter her. I had never seen a live woman bare down there before. I had seen pictures so I knew what to expect, but the sight of a good rich pussy was something of an unexpected treat for me. I stared at it and then reached to it with one hand. I took my pajamas completely off and I was nude with my mother on the bed. Dad pulled down those boxer shorts of his and I saw his prick dangling with his balls. Yes, he was still limp. But evidently he was planning to sit on a chair at the bedside and watch me service my mother. Well, if that was what he wanted, who was I to argue?
Mom settled back on the bed and she instructed me on what she wanted. "The first thing I always like, Jerry," she said to me, "is to have my tits licked. You used to suck on them very nicely when you were a baby. Let's see if you retained your technique."
I sure didn't know what I was doing, but I leaned forward onto her boobs as she held them with her hands. The nipples were standing up excitedly and waiting for my mouth. I leaned down to her left tit and I pushed my affectionate lips to my Mom's left gland. I kissed it gain and she nearly squealed with satisfaction. When things started to go that well I moved my hand up to her other tit and milked it with my fingers as she writhed her tits around beneath me and enjoyed the nice feelings I was giving her.
"That's the boy, Jerry," she said as I moved up and down those tits of hers. "That's the good boy."
Mom was very content with what I was doing. I could tell that from her voice. Dad was completely silent. He sat by the chair beside the bed and he watched me intently. I wondered how many fathers were in the habit of watching their sons making love to their wives. As I glanced at Dad out of the corner of my eye I looked between his legs to where his genitals hung.
They weren't moving. Not yet. I thought that Dad might have erected by this time, but obviously I was wrong. Dad was still hanging as limp as a snake asleep in a tree.
I was watching Dad intently when Mom's hand reached up and moved my hand from her right nipple.
"Was I pinching?" I asked, afraid that I might have hurt her with my fingers.
"No, dear," my mother whispered to me. "You're doing just fine. But I want my clitoris stimulated."
"The clitoris?" I asked, searching my mind In some sex manual I had read where to find it. But in the pressure of the moment I had forgotten where it was. "The clitoris?" I repeated. "Oh, yes. The clitoris."
"Do you know where it is, Jerry?" My mother asked me with that soft and loving maternal voice of hers.
"Sort of," I answered. "I sort of know roughly where to look for it."
"It sounds like I can be of a little help," Mom said. "You just hold out your index finger and I'll find the clitoris for you. It's really very easy."
She took my hand as I continued to kiss her boobs with my lips. But my right hand was pushed down into that wet fur between her legs.
"Keep that forefinger out," she said. "And hold your breath until you find the little 'man in the boat'."
"The man in the boat?" I asked.
"That's what we girls call our clits," Mom informed me. "It's just a little bump in there with all the ocean of wetness. It feels like a little man in a boat."
She slid my finger between the upper lips of her pussy. The tip of my finger pushed its way between those lips and then glided through the wet inner folds of her pussy lips. Then the tip of my finger came to rest on a little bump.
"Is that it, Mom?" I asked.
Her hand fell away from mine. She started to moan. "Caress me right there, Jerry," my mother whispered to me. "Oh, caress me right there and I'll suck you off if you want."
I didn't argue with Mom. I started to rub my finger back and forth on that spot that she had indicated. My finger rubbed briskly and she held her legs as wide apart as she could. The tips of my fingers circled that clitoris and felt around in the other wetter reaches of her vagina. Then the fingertips circled back to the clit and started to rub that sensitive little knob again.
I worked on that knob until I had made her whole lower half throb with delight. Then I immersed my fingers into the lower part of her vagina. I inserted two fingers completely into that vagina and I twisted them slowly around. I knew Mom would like that and she certainly did. She gasped and sighed and squealed with the pleasure I was giving her.
"Oh, Jerry! Oh, my son!" Mom gasped to me. "Give me penis! Pull out your fingers and give me the penis!"
I moved my fingers back and forth again for a few more seconds. Then I withdrew them.
"Mount me!" She begged. "Get up on top of me and shove your dick in. "Please! Jerry, please!"
Mom held those legs apart as wide as she could. I crawled on top of her in precisely the way that all the sex manuals say to. I moved my penis toward her hairy slot and I probed around with it. But I couldn't quite find the proper hole.
She reached down beneath me and held my penis in her hand as I continued to try to get it in.
"What an inexperienced little cocksman," she giggled to me. "You can't even find the slot."
My penis started to wilt in embarrassment. I know Mom hadn't meant to humiliate her son, but with Dad watching me it was a terrible feeling to know that my penis wasn't going into the proper hole. But Mom felt it softening down there and she realized that she'd said something wrong. So, to correct things, she said something right.
"Inexperienced, maybe," she cooed, "but hung like a bull." I started to erect again. "What a penis!" She cooed as it continued to grow hard in her hand. "Hard as a rock!" She continued. It erected quickly to its full hardness.
"Oh, shit, you're so big!" she finally gasped. "Oh, Jerry! Push it in!"
She moved the head of my penis right to the proper slot and I gave a shove. It sailed right in. I gave a further shove and I felt the warmth and wetness of my mother's vagina as it completely enclosed and enveloped my penis. It was my first taste of pussy. And boy, was it ever a rich full taste!
I moved my rod and I pressed it all the way in after drawing it back out. I pumped back and forth with my buttocks riding her hard. My ass rose and fell vigorously as I pressed my penis in and out of Mom.
"Oh, Jerry! Oh, Jerry, I love you!" She squealed. "Oh, Jerry, you're making me orgasm! Don't stop stroking!" She pleaded. "Don't ever stop stroking!"
I stroked as hard as I could and I felt the sperm brewing down in my shaft. I knew I couldn't hold it much longer so I tried to slow down the pace. I didn't stroke as hard as I'd been stroking. And Mom didn't go for my slow-down tactics.
"Don't slow it down," she gasped. "Hump! As fast as you can until you come. Hump! Hump!"
I did what she wanted. I pumped my penis briskly back and forth in her vagina and I felt the sperm squirting upwards in my shaft. She could feel my penis getting ready to ejaculate and she wrapped me firmly in those long legs of hers. She squeezed my trunk with those legs and I wriggled my penis inside her vagina. I thrust my organ repeatedly and then I came.
My penis gushed forth with a long throbbing torrent of come. It came shooting out of my shaft as the penis twisted and lurched with orgasmic bursts that rocked all the way through me. I continued to stroke for many seconds, doctor. My orgasm wouldn't stop. I think it took me several seconds to get all that sperm out of my balls. And by the time I did I had pumped myself completely out of breath ...
... As Jerry concluded his story I noticed that we had run over the properly assigned time that I had allowed for his interview. I thus was only able to ask him a few brief questions before concluding my interview with him until a second meeting.
"Am I correct in assuming your mother liked what you'd done for her?" I asked the boy.
"If you're question is asking whether I did my 'duty' well," he replied, "the answer is yes. Mom said she really liked the way I stuck it to her."
"And was she completely satisfied?" I asked. "The incestuous sex satisfied her?"
"She said it was satisfying," Jerry said with a slight frown of confusion, "but she also demanded more."
"More?" I asked. "She wanted to take your virginity twice on the same night?"
"It wasn't me the second time," Jerry replied casually. "You see, Dad got real excited watching me fuck Mom. By the time Mom and I were orgasming, Dad was back in business."
"His phallus was erect?" I asked.
"Rock hard," said Jerry with a smirk of pride about his father. "Rock hard and very big. As big as mine, for example."
"Did your parents have sex then?" I inquired.
"They did, doctor," said the boy. "And they said I could stay and watch them. So I did."
"Which position did they employ?" I asked.
"It was an odd one," said Jerry. "One that I had never thought of up till that time. But they said it was a good position. They said in fact that it was the one they used when they conceived me."
"We only have a few seconds remaining, Jerry," I said to the boy. "Tell me quickly. Which position did you watch your mother and father copulate in?"
"Mom lay on her side with her back to Dad. Dad lay behind her. Then Mom lifted her upper leg in the air and Dad slid his big penis into her vagina from underneath and behind. Then they lay on their sides pumping and grinding for two or three minutes. Then Dad came and Mom uttered a low squeal of delight when she felt the sperm jumping out of his penis into her pussy."
"And by that time I imagine the whole family was satisfied," I said to young Jerry.
"Yes," he said slowly, "but in many ways that was just the beginning of this incestuous stuff with my mom. She still does just what my father made her promise not to do. She comes around and she makes me-"
"I'm sorry, Jerry," I said to the boy, "but it sounds like we're getting into a whole new subject."
"Don't you want to hear about it?" I was asked by the boy. He looked up at me from where he lay on the sofa.
"Certainly I do," I said to him. "But I'd rather hold it until a second interview. If you have something major to tell me I'd prefer to have the proper amount of time to hear about it."
"Okay, doctor," he said. "I'll hold my water for the next time. But this is something really weird and really incestuous. If you're at all interested in incest you'll want to hear about this."
"Does it concern you and your mother, Jerry?" I asked.
"Yup," he said with a grin. "It does."
"In that case, Jerry," I said to the boy, "We'll start right there in our next interview session."
ii
Before going on to the brief interview which I held with Jerry A. on his second visit to my offices, I feel obliged to make one important note in his case.
The practice of two parents involving a child in their sex acts is not new. This practice, which was first known to occur during the era just preceding the decline of the Roman Empire, has been seen on and off in the United States for many years. It is just now coming out into the open and several cases of such practices have received widespread publicity in newspapers and mass media recently.
There are many reasons for such practices, but the most common reasons are those which were evident in the case of Jerry's parents. I will explain briefly.
Two people who are married to each other and who are continuing to excite each other sexually will rarely turn outside their marriage for sexual stimulation or fulfillment. Or to phrase the problem differently, people happy with the partner he/she is married to will feel no need to draw in a third partner into the sex act within the marriage.
Obviously, Jerry's parents were having their troubles. Mr. A. was unable to erect over his wife. Either she was failing to reach him sexually or he was making no effort to be reached. Thus the solution suggested itself to Mr. and Mrs. A. in the same way that it has suggested itself to thousands of other couples: the teenage son would come in to serve as a stimulus for both parents. The mother would actually have sex with the boy while the father would watch. Thus the parents are spared the embarrassment of having to go outside the family for a third person to engage in sex with.
I do not wish to editorialize, however I disapprove wholeheartedly about the wisdom of such practices. I have grave doubts whether incest is wise in many cases (just as I am certain that in certain cases it can very definitely be wise or unwise). But to involve a child in viewing the failure of the father to erect is to endanger what may already be a tenuous father-son relationship. Young boys look to their fathers for a model which to grow into. It is very difficult for a boy to attempt to emulate a man who has trouble erecting and who has trouble satisfying his wife. Yet this practice of "calling in the son" to satisfy the mothers seems to be spreading in the United States. Let's hope it is simply a passing fad among some of the more unorthodox parents.
To continue with Jerry's case, however, we can see in specific detail how this involvement of a fourteen-year-old boy into his parent's sex life was beneficial to none of the parties involved. Consider what Jerry told me when he returned to my office for his second visit.
"Jerry," I said to the boy, "I'd like to pick up just where we left off a few days ago. Do you remember this weirdly incestuous thing you were going to tell me."
"Of course I remember it," he said. "I told you it was something big, didn't I?"
"You did," I said. "And you said that it involved you and your mother."
That's right," he said. "My father was kind of left out of things, even though he set everything in motion."
"How did he set things in motion?" I asked the boy as young Jerry crossed his legs on the sofa. The boy was wearing a T-shirt and a clean pair of jeans on this visit. He still had the bothersome habit of picking his fingernails as he spoke. It was the only nervous habit which gave away to the otherwise calm image that Jerry successfully projected.
"After that first time I was involved with my parents," Jerry explained, "I sat there and watched Dad as he ate Mom out after fucking her. I guess it's a pretty crude thing to have to admit, but that's what he did. I saw it. And I was sure glad that he didn't eat me out of there fourteen years earlier.
Well, doctor, I'm trying not to get sidetracked. The gross facts are that I saw and participated in all the things I've mentioned. And then I went off to my room for the night to have a good night's sleep. And believe me, I slept well because Mom had given me such a vigorous fuck. But as I said, things were really just beginning.
You see, the next morning while Mom was downstairs fixing some breakfast for the rest of us Dad came by my room to talk to me. I could tell from the look on his face that he meant business. And as soon as I saw him I had a pretty sound idea of what he might want to say something about.
"I guess you enjoyed that lay you got last night of your mother," he said to me.
"It was good," I admitted. "It was sure a lot nicer than having to beat off over those magazines under my bed."
"I'm sure it was," he said to me very carefully, "and I guess I owe you a debt of thanks, too."
"You, Dad?" I asked. "How?"
"Watching you perform helped me get hard enough to fuck your mother, too," Dad said to me. "And that's something I haven't been able to do for a while. So you were a big help to me, too."
"I'm glad, Dad," I said innocently.
Dad looked around and spoke again. I could tell that he still hadn't gotten to what he really-wanted to talk about.
"Right now your mother is a very content woman," he told me. "She was fucked by two different males last night, you and me. It always makes a woman very happy when she gets to get two different penises into her in one fucking."
I nodded and understood what he was talking about.
"So right now she's not the problem, Jerry," Dad said. "But you are."
"Me?" I asked. "What did I do wrong?"
"Nothing," Dad said. "You didn't do anything wrong. In fact it's what you did right."
"What?"
"The way you fucked her," said Dad. "You did it very well. She orgasmed hard and really enjoyed getting some young cock down there in that thirty-five year old bush of hers."
"And so?" I asked.
"And so if I'm not careful, Jerry," Dad said, "you're going to become a threat to me. Imagine. A threat right here under my own roof."
"I won't become a threat to you, Dad," I promised. "Honest I won't."
"That's very nice of you to say, Jerry," he said to me firmly but understandingly. "But words can sometimes be meaningless. That's why I have to explain something to you."
"What's that?" I asked.
"It's very simple, Jerry," he said. "I'm simply going to make a little promise to you. If you ever go near your mother's muff again without my suggesting it first, I'll kick you out of my house on your ass. Is that clear?"
I gulped. "Yes, sir," I said calmly to my father, stifling my sudden shock at the vehemence with which he'd made his promise. "I understand."
"Good," he said to me. "In that case we never need to discuss this again."
"No sir, we don't," I agreed.
I had every intention of sticking to that promise that I'd made to him. I figured my parents must have been boozed up that night and not really have realized what they were doing when they called me in to take part in the fucking with them. So I figured that I was lucky to have gotten one good balling off my Mom. I chalked it up as a nice experience and I figured it would be the last time that I'd ever have sex with her. So I'd had a one night stand with my Mom. Big fucking deal. No one would ever know besides the three of us. And as I said, I figured Mom and I would never meet again as sexual partners.
Well, I was wrong. Mom had this weird yen that she'd never been able to satisfy with my father. So naturally when she couldn't satisfy it with him, she silently and secretly turned to me.
I remember how it happened. It was on an afternoon when Dad was out playing golf with his pals from work. I was sitting right in the downstairs playroom of our house. I was watching a baseball game on the television. And right during the seventh inning stretch I heard a female voice behind me.
It was more than a female voice, it was Mom's voice. And as soon as I heard it I could tell the seductiveness of it. I knew she had something on her mind as soon as I remembered that Dad had gone for the afternoon.
I turned around and took a good hard look at Mom. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. I had never seen my own mother in such a wild mod outfit.
"Mom!" I said as I turned. My eyes-and yes, my prick-were popping to attention. "Mom, what's going on?"
"Nothing much," she said. "I just thought I'd start dressing on the young side a little. I like my sonny boy to think of me as a young swinging mother."
Young swinging mother? Shit, doctor. She was wearing a see-through blouse which had laces all over it but which easily revealed the big nipples which she had under that skimpy little blouse. I'd seen pictures of strippers who wore more than Mom had up over her tits.
But the best part was down below. Under that laced ping see-through blouse, she wore the tightest pair of white hot pants that any mother ever put on. And they looked sensational on her. She had all the right curves and those hot pants even showed the little mound where her pussy was and the indentation where the crack of her ass was.
Her legs were sleek and tan and she wore high white boots which rose up her legs right to the knees. My eyes ran up and down her legs and took in the full view. I just couldn't believe what Mom was wearing.
"I guess my little Jerry might be wondering exactly why I'm wearing something like this," Mom said to me. "And I can't blame him. I'd be suspicious, too." She took my hand as she stood by me and she made me get up from where I was sitting.
"Let's just go to the couch over there, Jerry," she said, "and I'll explain the whole thing."
She took me to a couch on the side of the playroom and she turned off the television as she walked past it. "The entertainment that you're about to get is better than anything you'll find on the tube, Jerry," she said. "In fact, dear," she continued, "I think you should spend less time with the idiot box and more time with your mother's box. Do you read me?"
I told Mom that I was beginning to understand. She sat me down beside her on that couch. I peeked through that see-through blouse of hers and I saw those ruby colored tits of hers standing up to their full erection. And as I lowered my gaze and looked where those hot pants fit so closely around her crotch, I could feel my own penis rising with desire ... despite the promise that my father had made to me.
"Now, Jerry," Mom said, "I have a little confession to make to you. There's something that I've always wanted to do, but which your father has never let me do."
"Does it have something to do with sex, Mom?" I asked her.
"My little Jerry catches on quickly," she intoned. "Yes, dear, it has something to do with sex, Sex between you and me."
"Oh," I said flatly, remembering my father's oath to kick me out of the house if he ever caught me messing around with my mother again. "Did you want to do something?" I asked.
"Yes, dear," she said. "I want to do a little something with you. And it's something which will be just as nice for you as it will be for me."
She opened her blouse completely. Instead of letting me see through that thin material, she opened the blouse so that I could look directly in at her tits. My penis was getting harder and harder as I looked. And then she reached down to those hot pants and undid the little belt that was at the waist.
"Be a good boy," she said to me, "and undo that zipper for me." She indicated the zipper to those tight confining little shorts. I moved my hand right down there to her crotch and I slowly started to move the zipper downward.
"These shorts are so tight and confining," she said with a giggle and a whisper. "They're so tight and confining that I just can't wait to get them off. After all, I never even bothered to put panties on underneath them."
I lowered that zipper and saw that she was telling the truth. First I saw the top of her big triangular patch of pussy hair. Then I saw the rich fullness of the whole bush. But by the time the zipper was completely down she was ready to show me the whole thing.
"A woman is always more comfortable when she's naked," my mouthful mother said to me. So she stood up and wriggled those hot pants down her legs and off. Then she slipped out of that skimpy blouse, too. She stood stark naked in front of me with only those white boots remaining on her body. I was staring right at those magnificent breasts with those ruby-colored nipples and then I stared at her big bare bush which was within an arm's reach for me.
"Are we going to fuck again?" I asked, praying that my father wouldn't walk in just as I was mounting her.
"Jerry!" She said with faked outrage. "Must you always jump to conclusions? The fact is that we're going to do something special, something that I've never been able to do with your father."
"What is it, Mom?" I asked. I could feel my prick aching in my pants. I was ready to risk being caught by Dad now. After seeing those lovely tits and that comfortable vagina that Mom had I was ready to risk things just to get off a good firm ejaculation. "Can't you tell me what it is before we do it?" I asked.
"Of course, Jerry," she said. "I'll tell you as soon as you get undressed."
As I began to unbutton my shirt and undo my belt, Mom spoke.
"You see, Jerry," she said to me, "ever since I was a girl in high school I have had a craving for cock." She paused and then continued. "I don't mean just getting cock stuffed into my vagina, I mean cock. To lick and to suck."
"Oh," I said as I took off my shirt. I pulled my pants and shoes off. All I was left with was my underpants. I listened as she continued.
"What I've always wanted to do was perform fellatio, Jerry," she said as she looked down and saw the head of my prong peeking its way through the slit fly on the front of my underpants. "I've always liked to have the feeling of a good mouthful of sperm. I like the taste of come, Jerry. That's why I like to suck on a nice big cock and get a mouthful of a man's seeds."
"Uh, huh," I said as I felt the twitching down at my crotch. I looked at those big boobs of hers and I wondered what a breast roll would be like. I could almost feel the exquisite thrill of being allowed to come right between her tits.
"But the problem is that your father has a hang-up about being sucked off," said my mother. "Back before he met me a girl was attempting to blow him. She had just puffed his dick up to its full state of erection when there was a knock on the door to the room they were in. The girl nearly jumped out of her G-string, Jerry," said Mom. "And she bit your father on the head of the penis."
"Shit!" I thought, closing my legs in reaction to what she'd just said. "That must have hurt like hell!"
"It was very embarrassing for your father," Mom continued. "He had to go to the hospital and explain to the nurses what had happened to his penis. And ever since then he's had a fear complex about his dick. He won't let any girl put that dick in her mouth. He's afraid that there could be another accident and that he'd left as half a man."
"Gosh," I said.
"And that's where you come in, Jerry," she said hopefully. "That's why I stand before you nude today."
"Why?" I asked, failing to see why she'd seemingly jumped from one sentence to another.
"Because I want to suck a nice handsome dick," she said. "Your dick, Jerry. Your dick."
"You're going to suck it?" I gulped.
"That's right, Jerry," she said. "I want you to take down those underpants and then lean back on the couch and relax. Mommy is going to perform fellatio on you. She's going to suck that nice peter of yours until it comes."
"Gosh, Mom," I gulped again. "I don't think that's going to take too long. You've already got me pretty excited."
"That's just wonderful, Jerry," she said. "Simply wonderful. Now take down those underpants."
As I sat on the edge of that couch I took my underpants down, slid them down of my legs and kicked them off. I looked up at my mother's bare tits and pussy as she stood there in nothing but those high white boots. She in turn was staring down at my erect penis.
"Oh, Jerry," she said. "You have such a handsome big organ it's going to be such a delight to suck it off."
Mom made me sit back on that couch with my legs spread apart and with my feet and legs hanging down to the floor. My prong was standing proudly erect from my groin.
Mom got down on her knees in front of me. Immediately she leaned in and gave me a kiss right on the tip of the penis. Then she used her tongue to lick up and down the underside of the shaft of my dick.
"You really are a lucky boy," she said to me as she fondled my balls. "Not everyone gets born with as big a prick as you have. And the bigger the prick, the more of a man you'll be. It just adds up that way."
She leaned in against me again and she pushed her bare nipples against my legs as she cupped her hands beneath my balls. She toyed with those balls for a series of several seconds. And then she took the entire head of my penis into her mouth again.
"Oh, Mom," I sighed. "That's just beautiful. Just plain beautiful!"
She held her warm mouth and lips around that big hard organ's head and she moved her tongue daintily across the hole on the head of the penis. Then, as she continued to hold that penis between her lips and her tongue, she glided the tongue downward and went to work on the most sensitive spot of my body, the spot just below the big crown on my penis.
"Mom, yes," I moaned just as she had been moaning when I fucked her. "Mom, don't stop. I'm going to come if you keep doing that!"
She didn't stop. She merely uttered a sexy giggle when I told her she was going to make me come. I guess it made her feel very much like and attractive young woman-which Mom really was-to know that with a few little sexy moves of her mouth she could make a big penis like mine get excited enough to come.
She began to steadily move more and more of that prick into her mouth. At first she had just held the few inches of the penis head in there. But then she sucked in more of the shaft as she constantly worked her lips up and back on that rod. Pretty soon it was halfway into her mouth. Then three quarters of the way. And then it felt as if Mom had somehow taken the whole thing into her mouth. I can't describe the feeling, doctor. I was so turned on and so excited that I don't know how I withheld my come as long as I actually did.
She continued to lick up and down the long blue vein which ran the length of my penis's underside. But as much as she worked on that vein, the way she was really turning me on was by wrapping that warm wetness of her mouth around the whole shaft and by concentrating on that wonderful spot beneath the head of my penis. Within a few more seconds I could feel the sperm gathering in my balls and getting ready to climb up the shaft of my penis and burst loose into her mouth. I felt a tingle. Then I felt that deep sense of urgency down in my penis. My sperm shot up with a big hard rush. And the next thing I knew was that I was coming in Mom's mouth. She sucked marvelously, doctor, pumping all my seeds out for as long as I had seeds to shoot. She drew every drop out of me, doctor, making me a very contented boy and a very loving son ...
... I listened to Jerry's story until its finish. But I had long since exacted my feelings on Jerry's case. Thus, as soon as Jerry concluded his story to me, I was able to discuss with him my own feelings on his case. Later I discussed the problem with his parents and the headmaster of Jerry's school. I spoke in the terms which follow.
CONCLUSIONS TO CASE HISTORY THREE
It is at first difficult to analyze Jerry A.'s case in that he was at first only the passive partner to the incestuous relationship which developed in his family. The subject which I most needed to talk to in order to get to the heart of Jerry's case would have been Mr. A., Jerry's father.
It was, after all, Jerry's father who lured him into an incestuous union with his mother. It was his sudden impotence, oddly stimulated and cured by the presence of his own son in the conjugal bed with Mrs. A., which had accounted for Jerry's being invited to have sex with his mother. In other words, Jerry was the passive partner in this incestuous triangle, but it was Mrs. A. who was the most singularly active partner. Thus it would have profited me greatly to have been afforded a chance to speak to Mr. A. I mentioned this to Mr. A. He categorically refused to speak with me.
I felt, however, that a student of this particular case might refer to Freud's writings on impotence as contained in his Basic Writings. Impotence has two functions. It functions both as a cause and as an effect. We must examine it in this light in order to fully analyze the incestuous occurrences of this particular case history.
Consider the topic of fixation, particularly as interpreted by Freud or as treated in Reason and Emotion in Psychotherapy, the excellent psychology text by Albert Ellis.
Fixation occurs, according to most Freudian exponents of psychology, when a concept is taken into the brain and is allowed to progress only to a certain point. Most concepts come into the brain and are developed to full maturity. Then they pass through the brain and continue on, either to be abandoned or to be developed into a higher state of thought.
But the casual factors in fixation are somewhat akin to the fuller grips with in the following case history. With a fixation a person develops and idea, lets it pass through the brain to a certain point and then-for reasons which may remain completely unknown-that concept fixes itself in the mind at a particular point. It remains there and becomes, to define our own terms, a fixation.
This happens frequently with incest. It also happens frequently with fathers in regard to their sons.
To take this particular case in specifics, it was quite obvious that Mr. A. had an incest fixation which might have stemmed from the latent desires of his youth. Mr. A. obviously obtained a certain form of sexual gratification from watching an incestuous act between his son and his wife. It is evident from the manner in which young Jerry told his story about his father that the father, erecting upon watching his son and wife engaged in intercourse, received an adequate amount of sexual stimulation to arouse his own sexual desires.
Obviously this is a facet of voyeurism as much as it is a facet of incest. The fact is that incest is a sexual deviation which is not entirely an active activity. That is to say that those who engage in incestuous activities often like to do so only in a "third party" manner. That is, they wish to act as spectators instead of actual participants.
What about Mr. A.'s erection or his lack thereof? It is a proven medical and psychological fact that ninety-eight percent of all impotence suffered by American males is attributable to psychological rather than pathological or physical problems. Thus we might conjecture that something was troubling Mr. A., something which either bothered him enough to make him fail to erect or something which made him fail to erect on purpose.
I would submit that this latter suggestion may be very much on target in the case of Mr. A. I believe that he intentionally failed to erect for a totally subconscious reason which he himself was perhaps not aware of. It is entirely possible that Mr. A. could have had an incestuous fixation from his youth, a fixation which made him regret that he had not committed incest himself. This is the type of fixation which stays with a man throughout his adult life and subsequently will manifest itself in one form or another sooner or later.
Thus, wanting to engage in incest, Mr. A. roused his own son and asked his son to perform sexually with his mother. I don't feel that I have to go into the ramifications of such an action or digress into the inherent psychological dangers for the boy. Such matters are self-evident in such a case, although the results of such a problem might not be visible for years.
What is not worthy of note here is the point which was previously made about Mr. A.'s apparent impotence. I refer to the cause and effect factor which I previously mentioned. It is clear by now that his failure to erect was possibly caused by a deeply seeded psychological fixation upon the act of incest. And Mr. A. at least subconsciously knew that if he failed to erect for a long enough period his son Jerry would be called in to take his place as a sexual partner for his mother. Thus the failure to erect was possibly converted into an asset for Mr. A. in that it evoked a scene beside him in the bed that he had always fantasized about.
Let's consider the effect factor, however. As a result of his allowing his son to make love to his wife, Mr. A. suddenly realized that his son had become more than an adequate replacement for his own sexual company. Obviously Mr. A. could consider himself in the same sense that the father of Oedipus might have considered himself. Oedipus, readers will recall, "killed" his father and then married his mother. The result of this lesson might not have been lost on Mr. A. and he might have considered himself sexually "killed" if he allowed his son to take any more liberties with his wife.
As is often the case, however, a habit that is pleasurable reinforces itself psychologically I don't feel that readers will need any review on the psychological concept of reinforcement, but good texts such as Reinforcement In the Learning Process by I .G. Moorehouse are readably available. In any event, the incident of incest between Jerry A. and his mother was initially rewarding enough for both to wish to have further sexual contact. Thus Jerry's mother came to him and offered to perform fellatio upon him. Jerry, like most males in a similar situation, had gotten over the initial fear and shock of incest (See Freud's The Theory and Fear of Incest) and readily accepted her offer. By the time I concluded my second interview with Jerry, the boy admitted that he had several more interludes with his mother. This is a problem within the A-family which is continuing at the time of publication. Considering the growing storm brewing between Jerry's father and Jerry who now are both vying for the sexual attentions of Mrs. A., I feel justified in suggesting that it is just such a dangerous situation that society seeks to avoid when it proscribes incestuous sexual relations.
CASE HISTORY FOUR
While the first three case histories in this volume have dealt at length with some of the broader and more common aspects of the underlying roots of incestuous behavior between mothers and sons, it would equally be beneficial for the reader to consider these final two case histories. In these two case histories I wish to approach some of the equally important but lesser known aspects of incestuous behavior. In this first case history I would like to consider the case of young Billy F., thirteen, a boy who has repeatedly had sex with his mother.
I include young Billy's case history in this volume because his case very easily typifies a case involving the concepts of inhibitions and regression, two concepts which often lead young adolescent boys to have continued sexual encounters with their own mothers.
Billy, a blond youth with a sturdy build and a nicely developed young body, was referred to my office as an outgrowth of his speaking with a doctor at the private school where Billy was enrolled. The doctor, a man whom Billy trusted thoroughly, had heard Billy's odd tale of sexual conduct and misconduct. The doctor believed Billy and referred him to me for further consultation.
"Billy," I said to him on his first visit to my offices, "I know why you've been sent here. I want you to know that I'm your friend and I'm here to help you with your problems."
"I ... I really don't have any problems, sir," Billy replied.
"Really?" I asked. "Doctor M-told me that there was something that was troubling you. Something involving girls."
I could see Billy's face become crimson. The boy was quite obviously nervous and angry.
"I should have never told him," the boy muttered. "He's a liar. He said he wouldn't tell anyone. But he lied. He told you."
"Dr. M-is a close friend of mine, Billy," I assured the boy. "He only told me because he thought it might help you if I talked to you."
There was a pause. I could see that I would have to do better to get through to Billy.
"You see, Billy," I said to him, "I talk to a lot of young guys who have gone through things just like you have. Guys who have had strange sexual things happen to them. Even strange sexual things that involve their mothers."
"Really?" He finally said.
"Sure," I said. "I never could repeat any of their stories without their permission, but I'll bet I could tell you about boys just like you who have done much stranger things with their mothers than you've done."
"I doubt that," he said boldly.
"Why do you doubt that?" I asked.
"Because of what I did," he said. "Nothing could top that."
"I'd have no way of knowing about that," I said, "unless you tell me exactly what you did."
Billy thought about it for a moment and then decided he would talk to me. This is his story ...
... I'm thirteen years old, doctor. Almost fourteen. That's getting pretty old. I mean, I've got a pretty good cock developed now, doctor, and I'm getting old enough to know how to use it. Know what I mean?
Well, a lot of the guys in my class at school beat their meat. You know what I mean. They beat off. Pound. Masturbate. In any way that they can have their big comes. Usually they come in their own hands or on sheets or on towels. Well, I used to do that, too, but I don't any more. I fuck my mother instead and it's a whole lot nicer.
Here's what happened. Back when I used to masturbate with the other guys I used to get a picture of some broad and I imagine that I was sticking my penis into her slot. I'd imagine the warm moist folds of her vagina slipping around my erect rod. I'd briskly massage my penis as I'd imagine my penis slipping deeply into her. And then I'd brace myself and imagine the thrill of delivering my hot spermy load way down deeply inside her pussy.
I imagined doing that so often that it just wasn't fun to imagine it any more. I knew I'd have to go out and actually do it, doctor. Beating off just wasn't going to be any fun anymore. I had to deliver my load into a nice warm pussy in order to really satisfy myself.
So I went cruising for some pussy, doctor. I can tell you one thing, doctor, it's not easy to find pussy when you're fourteen years old. The girls your own age won't part with their cherries for another year. The younger ones are still too tight to even get into. The older ones go to bars when they want to get laid and at my age I'm not even old enough to buy a drink.
Some of the girls in their late teens or early twenties would be good, but when you go up to them in a store or oh the street and ask them if they want to screw they just laugh at you and won't take you seriously. I even pulled my pecker out in a store and flashed it at one girl just to show her that I meant business. But all that did was have her call the store manager who boldly threw me out. One time I proposed fucking to one of my mother's friends. She turned me over her knee and paddled my ass. That actually wasn't bad. I came because she spanked me so hard.
Well, finally I found a girl I could fuck. Julie was her name. She was a college girl home on vacation and she worked at a newsstand in town. She was nineteen, five years older than me. But I started talking to her where she works and I told her that I'd already banged twenty girls. She thought that I must have some incredible cock to have accomplished so much so soon. So I invited her back to my house when I didn't think my mother would be home. I told her that I'd give her a good demonstration of that magnificent cock of mine. So that same night she came over to my house.
Well, shit, doctor, I wasn't going on much more than hot air and a lot of nerve. I knew how to fuck only from reading books. But I was determined to penetrate this college girl's pussy. I figured she would make a nice easy conquest for me. And she almost did.
Well, when she came over to my house I had no idea that Mom was going to be home early. I got Julie to come up into my bedroom and she began to undress immediately. She was that kind of girl, doctor, the kind who doesn't want to bullshit around. She just wants to grab a quick fuck and go about her business.
Well, Julie took off her clothes and stood stark naked in front of my bed. My stick came popping up like a compass needle suddenly released to point to the north. I took off my pants and the nineteen-year-old girl snuggled onto the bed next to me. I felt her bare nipples with my hands as she pulled down my underpants and placer her hands on my penis. Her hands were very warm, doctor, and I was getting very excited. She helped me take the rest of my clothes off. Then I examined her bush and found that it was soaking wet. This was a girl of experience, doctor, a girl who must have been laid countless times on her college campus. She was a real veteran of the bedroom, a girl who really had had her bedroom experiences!
Doctor, this may sound hard to believe but there was another girl of experience present at that moment. It was my mother. Mom had come home early and quietly from wherever she had been. She had heard the talking in my room and she had tiptoed to the door to see what was going on. She had opened the door about an inch and she was peeping in on us as Julie worked over my prong and as my fingers were getting wet from Julie's vaginal lips.
Mom didn't say anything, of course. She just watched. She stood there silently peeping at the door as her little boy began the process of spilling his seeds.
Julie was working her hand vigorously up and down my penis, doctor. "Julie," I moaned to her as I felt the desire build up in my rigid young organ, "take it easy. Take it easy or I'll come too soon," I protested.
"A veteran of as many lays as you claim to have had shouldn't have any trouble with premature ejaculation," she chided. "I like to handle a nice cock. I like to touch it and suck on it. I also like to stick it between the wet outer folds of my vagina."
I continued to feel up her cunt, doctor. I was getting so hot and anxious between my legs that I knew I was going to have trouble controlling myself. I knew it and I warned Julie. But she wouldn't listen to me. For heavens' sake, doctor, do you know what she did? She put her mouth to my penis and gave me a kiss down there! She rasped the tip of her tongue right across the hole on the tip of my spout and then she took the whole head of my hard rod into her mouth. She licked and lapped on the sensitive little spot beneath the head of my penis. She built up the desire down in my penis to a point past which I knew I'd never be able to hold it.
"Julie, please!" I squealed as I massaged her bare clitoris with a free finger. "I'll never be able to hold my seeds!"
"You better!" She said. "After the buildup you gave me, you'd better be able to hold those seeds for an hour and a half!"
Well, doctor, I nearly came right then. But for some reason my gaze drifted over to the door. I saw how the door was open about an inch. And I saw my mother was peeping in on us. Here I was about to get laid and she was watching!
Doctor, sir, there was something awful exciting about that! I don't know what it was, but to have one's Mom watching you all nude and getting your cock sucked was something I hadn't bargained for. Julie moved her mouth away from my penis and then moved on top of me so that my prick was trapped between her two big fleshy boobs.
"Hold on, Billy dear," Julie cooed to me. "I'm going to give you what I give to all my boyfriends. A breast roll."
She rolled her boobs all over my erect prong. I watched my mother watching me from that doorway. And my cock started to gush.
It spurted its warm seeds between Julie's boobs. The first gush was a tremendous rushing rip of sperm, so hard that it would have shot five feet across the bed if it hadn't hit Julie in the chin first. The next spurts gushed out almost as hard. I must have had ten or twelve good hard rushing gushes of come. And Julie was complaining the whole time.
"What a turkey!" She squealed. "What a stiff! You're nothing more than a big heap of bullshit! I don't think you could lay a rug! I've never seen anyone come so fast!"
She was pissed as hell. I can't say that I blamed her, either. She jumped up and began to dress. Premature ejaculation can sure get a guy in trouble ...
... My thirteen-year-old interviewee was extremely upset by this time. His voice was cracking into a sob as he described how not only had he failed in his initial attempt to make love to an older girl, but he had been seen and humiliated by his mother as well. I could already see the inhibition and regression stage being set in his young psyche.
"Billy," I said to try to comfort him, "I wouldn't get too upset about it. Most boys can be artful on their first attempt at making love."
"But I fucked it up so badly," he said. "And because I fucked it up so badly I can't ball anybody but my mother now."
"What? I asked.
"That whole episode with Julie," he said, tears now streaming down his face, "has really messed me up, doctor. I can't fuck girls now. I have to fuck my mother instead."
I was so intrigued by what Billy was saying that I wanted to continue this line of discussion as soon as possible. Seeing, however, how upset the boy was, I suggested that we take a brief break. I invited the boy to accompany me on my lunch hour and we went out to where we could enjoy a hamburger and milk shake. Over this hour I managed to calm the boy and further win his trust. Thus when we returned to my offices after lunch we were able to calmly and rationally pick up where we had left off.
ii
"Billy," I said to the boy, "before we broke for lunch you had said something about not being able to have sex with girls as a result of that first instance of premature ejaculation. Is that correct?"
"Yes, sir," he replied.
"And this has something to do with your mother, too?" I asked.
"That's right, sir," he said. "She's the only one I can fuck right now."
"Was this the result of just what you told me about?" I asked. "Or did something further happen?"
"It ... it was something else," he stammered. "Something that happened after that time that she peeped on me."
"I see," I said. "Will you tell about it?"
The boy said he would. This was his account of what had occurred ...
... I knew my mother was downstairs when Julie walked out and left me. Mother didn't say anything about what she had seen. Not for a few days. But meanwhile Julie was shoot-ting her big mouth off. I'll tell you something, doctor. I thought Julie had a real big slot between her legs, a really huge crack. But it wasn't half as big as her mouth. She told everyone about how I'd shot my seeds to soon and had come between her tits.
Well, stories like that get around. Pretty soon none of the other girls I knew would even consider balling with me. There had been one or two who had been considering screwing with me. But after they heard what Julie had to say they didn't want anything to do with me. They all called me Billy Too-oon, the Boy Who Can't Wait to Come. It was awful, doctor. Soon every girl in the county had heard about it and no one has fewer girlfriends than a guy who can't hold his seeds long enough. Pretty soon the stories were even getting back to my mother. That's when she began to talk to me about what she had seen.
She called me down to the downstairs playroom one day when only she and I were home together. She made me sit down on a bed next to her. Then she wrapped her arm around me.
"Billy," she said, "I've been hearing some stories about you. Stories about how you come too soon."
I took a deep swallow. "Gosh, Mom," I said. "I thought you'd seen everything."
"I did," she said. "I saw enough to know that the stories are true. That upsets me. I'd hate to think that a son of mine can't control his peter."
My cheeks were crimson with embarrassment. "Golly, Mom," I said to her as she tightened that arm around my shoulders. "It was my first time."
"That makes no difference," she said. "You're thirteen years old. That's old enough. If you're a big enough boy to draw your gun you'd better learn how to shoot."
"Gosh, Mom," I said. And then I noticed how her skirt was riding high up her long shapely legs. And I looked again to the buttons on the front of her blouse. I saw that the blouse was completely unbuttoned and her big rich boobs were naked underneath. I saw her bare tits and even the bare pink nipples on each time. I was beginning to forget that she was my mother. Instead I was aware of her femininity and the warmness of her body. I could feel what was happening down around my dick. I was starting to erect. The big lustful phallus between my legs was stiffening up and was getting ready to shoot.
"Have you been trying to fuck other girls since that unfortunate incident with that little bitch named Julie?" She asked.
"Sure, I have, Mom," I admitted. "But ... but they won't even let me put my hands on their tits."
"And why not?" She asked.
"Because I come too soon," I explained. "My reputation precedes me everywhere. No girl wants to hop into a bed with a guy whose seeds spill too soon."
"Well, Billy," she said to me as she placed her hand on my knee, "if you don't mind my saying so, I think you're getting the shitty end of the stick. So to speak."
"What do you mean, Mom?" I asked.
"I think any boy in your position with Julie might have come too soon. It was just your misfortune that Julie can't keep her lips together any more easily than she can keep her legs together. And we all know how difficult that is for that little slut Julie."
Mom and I exchanged a smile. Then she really shocked me. She mover her hand up my leg slowly until it was actually right on my hard swollen cock. Then she leaned forward and gave me a big sloppy kiss right on the lips.
"My little loving son," she said to me. "I think that if a mature experienced woman showed you just what to do you wouldn't have one of those nasty premature comes."
"No, Mom," I gulped. "I don't think I would."
"In that case, Billy," she said to me, "I think we should both remove our clothes."
Mom didn't give me much of a chance, doctor. She reached for my belt and undid it. She opened up my pants and reached in to where my penis was. She pulled down my underpants and let my huge hard rod spring free from those confining underpants. Then she began to stroke it for me, massaging that underside in a tender way that only a mother would be capable of.
"The secret to massaging a penis, Billy," she said to me, "is not to overdo it. A massage should be soft and special. But girl should never overestimate a man's ability to hold his rod. After all, what good is a rod if you can't ejaculate when you want?"
Mom and I were soon naked as we took each other's clothes off. I saw her big bare boobs and I played with them, pressing my bare palms against her nipples and then occasionally flicking my tongue across each of those big hard tits. At the same time I pressed a hand to that bare patch between her legs and I found what all the textbooks on fucking had always told me to look for: the clitoris! It had never occurred to me, of course, that I would someday be rubbing my fingertip against my own mother's clitoris.
With Julie I'd been worried about being able to hold my come. And I knew that I'd become quite inhibited with other girls, too. There had been so much talk about me that I knew I'd be reluctant to even try fucking some other girl. That's how worried I'd be about my premature comes. But with Mom there was no such worry. I could be a little boy with her and be perfectly at ease. I knew that with her I'd be able to hold my come for as long as I had to.
"Billy," Mom then said to me, "there are lots of different ways of fucking, but I think we should do it in the most traditional way."
"Stomach to stomach?" I asked.
"Yes, Billy," she said. "A young man who is learning how to fuck will eventually have to master all the basic positions. But he must always have a thorough knowledge of the most basic of all positions."
Mom lay back on the bed and she removed me from where I was sitting on the edge of that bed. She lay back comfortably and gave me a smile as she caressed my balls with her fingertips for the final time before our fuck.
"Remember, Billy," she said, "just concentrate about stroking nicely. Don't worry about when your sperm will fly out. The only thing you have to be concerned with is pumping and stroking."
Mom let her hand slide away from my dick and then she opened up her legs. I saw the crack between her legs open up and she showed me the pink inner lips of her pussy. She even reached down there and spread her pussy lips apart. She showed me her clitoris and she made me give her a kiss right on that clitoris before I could slide my dick into her slot.
"A good lover always gives his lady a kiss on the clitoris before he slides his dick in," she said to me. "Now that you've placed your kiss down there you can start in with your dick."
Mom started to undulate her hips on that bed. I climbed on top of her and I was conscious of how clumsy I was. Sure, I'd read just about every manual ever published on how to fuck, but there's nothing that can substitute for experience. I moved into the proper place and I tried to slip my shaft into her. But all I did was press the head of my cock up against her clitoris.
Mom grinned and reached down to my tool. "This is one doorstep that a boy often has trouble getting in for the first time," she said. "But when he finally gets in, nothing can get him out."
She held my dick in her hand and she slipped it right between the lips of her vagina. Then I gave a forward thrust with my hips. My dick slid forward nicely, gliding right between the warm walls of her vagina. I could feel the welcome wet warmth of the inner folds of her pussy. I started to stroke back and forth and then she wrapped her arms and legs around
I pumped vigorously, doctor, and managed to bring my mother up to a plateau where she had a long hard series of orgasms. She gripped me tightly between her legs and kept rhythming her pussy upwards onto my shaft. I managed to grind my penis downward into her and I was proud of being able to hold my erection hard for somewhere between five and ten minutes.
Finally I gasped out a few words to Mom. "Mom," I pleaded. "Can I? Can I come?"
"Now," she whispered to me. "Right now!"
I let go, doctor. I felt my penis spasm loose. It ripped out with gush after gush of hot foaming come, come that spattered all downward into her warm receptive pussy. I kept pumping and stroking and grinding my way downward into that hole of hers. She held her legs so tightly around me that they nearly squeezed all my breath out. But all she did was keep squeezing until she'd taken from me every drop of sperm that I could possibly muster. After that I managed to drip a few final drops of come into her. I kept trying to get more sperm out until my penis ran absolutely dry ...
... Young Billy concluded his statement at that moment. I looked at him for a few seconds before I asked a few final questions to terminate our interview.
"And have you been able to successfully have sex with your mother since that first time?" I asked.
"I have been," he said.
"And what about other females?" I asked. "Any success there?"
"None," he said.
"Have you tried?" I asked.
"Sure I've tried," he said. "But it just doesn't work. So few girls will even take a chance with me. And when I actually get my pants down and get my peter out, I find ... I find ..."
"What?" I asked, anxious that he deal with something which obviously was of considerable concern to him.
"I find that I can't hold a hard for them," he admitted, tears again welling in his eyes.
"What exactly happens?" I asked.
"One of two things," said the boy with a faltering voice. "Either I come too soon again or I lose my rod completely. Shit, doctor," said the boy, "this is why you got to help me. I just can't seem to fuck anyone except my mother. Hell, I must be a faggot or something!"
"Don't get overly upset, Billy," I said to comfort the boy. "Your problem is a common one. Modern socio-psychiatry will be able to help."
CONCLUSIONS ON CASE HISTORY FOUR
It is genuinely unfortunate that a likeable young boy like Billy would be afflicted with such serious psycho-sexual problems as were present in this particular case. With a better turn of luck, Billy might never have had that unfortunate incident with the young woman named Julie. Had she not created the concept of a problem of premature ejaculation, Billy might never have suffered the consequences of a severe "inhibition regression" complex.
I would, at the outset of a discussion of this case, refer the reader to certain further texts which will more fully explore this problem, its causive backgrounds, its effects and its possible cures.
I would most strongly, for example, refer the reader to the chapters dealing on inhibition in On Becoming a Person by Dr. Karl Rogers and similarly the reader should refer to Personality: A Clinical Eclectic View by Frederick Thorne and published by the Journal of Clinical Psychology Press. The concepts of regression and inhibition are essential and integral not only to our understanding of certain cases of incest, but also to our further psychological inquiries involving neurosis and psychosis.
Sigmund Freud, of course, was one of the pioneers in the analysis of inhibition and regression. Readers might wish to review Freud's writings in his essay entitled Aspects of Development and Regression; Aetiology.
In consideration of the case of young Billy F. we must consider the Freudian explanation of the development of the libido-function. That is to say, the development of the sexual drive in an adolescent human.
Freud postulated that every human process was a series of developments. That is to say, that as a human ages that human will develop his capacity for breathing, lifting, eating and the rest of the bodily functions until that human has reached the full functioning state of adulthood.
Occasionally it happens where some physical functions are arrested or halted before adulthood. In some humans these functions develop more slowly than others. And similarly, in many humans the psychological or mental functions will not develop as rapidly as in others. One such psychological function is that libido function. In every individual the sex drive develops at a different pace and each of us would reach maturity after a different stage of development.
This, of course is normal development. What we are concerned with in this case of Billy F. is not normal development but rather neurotic development. (See Freud's General Theory of the Neurosis.) owing to the general tendencies of a differing nature in various biological processes it must necessarily be true that not all of the maturing processes will be complete at the same time. But all continue to mature. This is what we have discussed in normal development. However, owing to the complexities of the human brain, there will occasionally be mental processes and personality developments which will be arrested in the early developmental stages. When these mental processes are arrested-or halted-we think of them as being psychologically inhibited. That is to say that they have been inhibited from further growth and development. And the facet of the personality develops what is commonly known as an inhibition.
And similarly, when this facet of the personality has nowhere further to advance onward to and develop into, it begins to move in reverse. Psychologically speaking we say that it regresses. And we thus have a full psychological regression.
Let's turn specifically to the case of Billy F., our thirteen-year-old subject. It is a commonly accepted psychological fact a thirteen-year-old boy or girl is in a physical state of development which is more advanced than the ensuing mental state. That is to say that a thirteen-year-old has begun to acquire certain physical attributes of an adult while not having yet acquired that accompanying emotional attributes.
Billy, being a perfectly normal young man, was in a position where from what he said it is evident that he had passed physical puberty and wished to function sexually as an adult. This is evident from his frequent statements having to do with his desire to have sex with a woman. His sexual urges were more than simple desires, it might be noted. They were outright urges of the strongest sort, very little different from the strong sexual, urges a normal adult male might feel after a difficult day at work.
In short then, we can see how Billy's mental processes remained that of a child while his physical urges were that of an adult. Billy's problems, however, stemmed from the fact that his physical development continued past the unfortunate point where-due to that most unfortunate experience with the girl named Julie and her subsequent gossip-his psychological processes became inhibited.
To use the analogy that Dr. Freud used in explaining this neurotic problem, we could consider the problems of a migratory group of people. Let us imagine a group of people migrating from Europe to the United States. As happened in all the great migrations, the largest mass of people would land on the east coast of the United States. Many would stay there. Others would continue on to perhaps Illinois or Missouri while still others would continue all the way to California.
During migration, those who ran into crisis or subsequent trouble along the way would return to the safest previous base of immigrants. In other words, if problems were encountered in the Midwest, some immigrants would return eastward. They would, in short, regress rather than progress in their journey.
This analogy, as originally illustrated in Freud's A General Introduction to Psychoanalysis, perfectly illustrates Billy's problem. It fully analyzes why Billy felt he could safely have sex with his mother while he could not successfully have sex with other girls.
The problem was this. Billy F. had by the age of thirteen safely progressed to the point where he had a stable mother-son or parent-child relationship. Billy felt safe and comfortable at that stage. But in his attempt to move onward to a fully adult relationship and function in a role as a sexually free adult, Billy had met frustration, failure, and-even worse-ridicule. Billy thus regressed quickly back from the further developed step of having sex with non-related females. He regressed-like Freud's immigrant example-back to his nearest safest base. And that safe base was to revert back to a child-parent relationship.
This relationship, however, afforded Billy an opportunity to be accepted as an adult by his mother. She afforded him also the chance to progress sexually even within an essentially regressive relationship. Thus it is no surprise that Billy accepted this new situation and did subconsciously wish to progress from a relationship which afforded him such safety. And thus it is equally not hard to understand why Billy actually wished his development to be inhibited at that particular point.
The inhibition, of course, was two-fold. There was first his mental inhibition about progressing onward to a more developed emotional and sexual state. But secondly there was his further inhibition concerning other females of his own peer group. Billy, due to his initial frustrations as a sexually functioning male, now felt inhibited in front of females due to his initial failures. It was an inhibition which manifested itself outwardly, but was directly attributed to internal neurotic conditions. Thus incest occurred between Billy and his mother. And thus, to everyone's great misfortune, Billy was forced to enter extensive psycho-therapy to return his developing young instincts back to a stable steady course.
CASE HISTORY FIVE
In The Sexual Life of Savages, the anthropological and sociological work by Bronislaw Malinowski a concept is developed which is later taken up by the French researcher Claude Levi-Strauss in The Family. Essentially the concept involves the idea of the nuclear family, the existence of society in units based on family relationships. Essentially, the family unit would be the nucleus of the social structure.
This concept, in addition to the Freudian concept of "expectant dread" and "free-floating anxiety" (See Freud's Anxiety) go a long way toward explaining why Mrs. Ethel C, thirty-seven, and a housewife in Florida, seduced her son Tommy and forced him into the actions which the unfortunate boy endured.
"I make no secret about it," said Mrs. C. on her initial visit to my offices. "I fuck with the boy. I'm not ashamed of it. There's no reason to be ashamed. Shit. I'm proud. I'm thinking of founding an Incestuous Liberation Group to help other incestuous mothers come out of the closet. Hell, every mother who has a son from time to time considers what it might be like to fuck with him."
"Think so?" I asked.
"I know so," she said. "I've talked to other mothers. Many have admitted trying on their sons' underwear or trying to sneak a keyhole peep at their penises."
"And you've actually had sex with your son?" I asked.
"I have," she said. "More times than I can count."
"How old is he?" I asked.
"Fifteen."
"His name?"
"Tommy."
Mrs. C, an attractive blond woman had come to my offices in a stylishly short dress which, being of sheer material, afforded me the occasion to notice that she had emulated today's younger women by not wearing a bra. Indeed, as it turned out, much of Mrs. C.'s thinking had been on the young side.
"And in your talks to these other women," I asked, "have any of them ever admitted having also had sex with their sons?"
"No," she said. "But one woman I know, a neighbor, admitted that she just recently put her hand on her college son's cock at the dinner table one evening."
"What happened?" I asked.
"The boy thought it was a mistake," she said. "But it wasn't any mistake. She put her hand there because she wanted it there. She wanted to feel her son's balls to see how big they were."
"I assume that's something you already know about your own son?" I asked.
"I know the size of everything," she said. "His penis hangs limp about four and three-quarter inches. When it erects I'm a very lucky woman."
"Why?"
"Why do you think?" She asked. "From that four and three quarters it erects up to over a full powerful seven incher. Show me a woman who has a son with a seven inch penis and I'll show you one happy woman."
I asked Mrs. C. to describe exactly how she and fifteen-year-old son Tommy began to have sex together. Mrs. C. gave me the following account of what had occurred ...
... I can remember back a couple of months ago, doctor, before this all began. I can remember seeing just what was happening to the fabric of this great country of ours.
I would watch the news every night and would see the permissiveness and immorality of so many people. People in high places were crooks and the average man or woman in the street was immoral six days a week and then a church-goer on Sunday. It just seemed to me, doctor, that our whole society was falling apart.
Then I took a look around my own neighborhood in Florida. Everywhere I saw couples swapping. I saw wives cheating on husbands. I saw husbands cheating on wives. I saw kids taking dope and I saw their parents going overboard with the booze. Problems everywhere, doctor. That's what I saw.
Fortunately I knew there was a way that I could keep problems from creeping into my own house. I knew there was a way that I could keep my own marriage and family together even in the light of the rampaging permissiveness that was taking over the country. I just knew I could.
How was I going to do it, doctor? I was going to do it by seducing Tommy. I would lure my son into my bed and I would have sex with him. We would ball and screw vigorously. And I knew that this was what would hold together my family.
You see, doctor, I have the whole thing figured out. This immorality and permissiveness which is taking over our country is all because of sex.
Now I know that sounds strange so I want the opportunity to explain. What I'm trying to say is that it's because that sexual things have come out into the open that there is so much immorality around. People feel no shame any more. People do things out in the open which they never would have done at all before all this permissiveness. I'm talking specifically about men and women, doctor. I'm talking about the way men are always going outside of their own homes to fuck.
Husbands do it, doctor. You know that. Husbands are always looking to get pussy somewhere else. And sons do it, too. The reason so many kids are in trouble these days is because they all go out and look for pussy and cock where it just isn't safe to get it. Well, I wanted to keep my husband and my son from having to go cruising for pussy. So I decided to give out just as much as I absolutely could right in my own home.
That was no problem for my husband. I keep him so supplied with pussy that I can't imagine him ever getting up an erection for anyone else. As soon as I think he's ready to get hard again I satisfy him before he takes his rod elsewhere. That's called preventive medicine, doctor. And it works.
But with my son it was a different problem. I knew he was old enough to be looking for pussy because I had seen the bottom drawer of his closet. It was laden with all these pictures of naked girls, pictures which he was obviously using to jack himself off with. Well, as soon as I knew about that I knew I would have to swing into action and seduce him. I knew I would have to let him have pussy in the comfort of his own home before he went looking for it in some place that he should actually stay away from.
So I confronted him. I went to his bedroom one day after school, when his sister was out of the house and while his father was still at work.
But before I went into his bedroom I went to mine. There I made down the bed and I undressed. Then I slipped into my most sheer and daintiest nightgown. I kept my pussy and my tits bare underneath it. Then I went to Tommy's bedroom and knocked on the door.
"Yeah?" He shouted as I knocked.
"It's Mother, Tommy," I called out to him. "May I come in for a minute?"
"Just for a minute, Mother," he called back. He told me that he was on his way out to play baseball with his friends. Well, I have seen some baseball bats in my life, but I've never seen anything the size of his penis when I got that to stand up like a big bat!
I opened the door and walked in. "Tommy," I said to him. "It's time that you and me had a little talk."
I smiled to him. He looked up and saw my attire, or lack of attire, and when he saw that my tits and my muff were bare beneath my slinky negligee he nearly came in his pants.
I saw his eyes bug wide open as he looked me up and down. He was so shocked that he didn't know what to say.
"I-I-I don't understand," he managed to stammer.
I walked into his room and walked over to him. I stood just far enough away so that the firm hard peaks of my tits were barely touching his chest. Then I held my hands and wrapped them around his shoulders. I leaned forward and gave him a kiss on each cheek before I gave him a kiss on the lips.
"Poor boy," I cooed to him. "You don't understand at all, do you?"
He shook his head. I took his hand. "I think we should sit down together and talk," I said to him. "Right here on your bed."'
I got him to sit down with me. I held his hand. I managed to glance down at his crotch as he managed to glance down at my bare breasts beneath my nightie. I could also see that his eyes were sneaking peeks toward my crotch. That was a good sign. He would be easy to seduce. But the even nicer sign was the sign that was obviously popping up at his crotch. My son was erecting. Oh, was he ever erecting!
"I'm getting messages, Tommy," I said to him. "That's why I've come this afternoon. I've come to get you to come."
He was still baffled. He told me he still didn't understand. "Messages?" He finally asked.
"That's right, Tommy," I said. "Messages. And do you know where these messages are coming from?"
"Where?" He asked.
"From your penis, Tommy," I said to him. "From that big manly penis of, yours. I've gotten so many messages from it that I'd like you to show it to me."
He covered his cock with his hands. But I wasn't having anything as prudish as that. "Come on now, Tommy," I said to him. "Don't play hard-to-get. Mother wants to know how big you can get it."
"Pretty big, Mother," he gulped. His face was as red as a beet.
"Let's just see," I insisted. And I reached to his zipper, pushed his hands away and pulled down that fly.
What a cock my boy had, doctor. Just an unbelievable cock. I told him that I had received messages of desire from his big penis which by now was pretty well swollen up into a giant erection. But he still wasn't getting the hint.
"The message I'm getting," I said to him, "is via your penis and via those magazines and pictures in your closet. Your dick wants to come. Don't deny it."
He sat there next to me as I handled his rod. I was rubbing my hand up and down the underneath part of his dick, keeping it nice and hard. "I know you masturbate secretly," I said to him. Didn't your Daddy tell you that masturbation was an immoral act?"
"Aw, Mom," he said slowly, genuinely embarrassed by now.
"Masturbation is all part of the immorality in present society," I said to him. "And I don't want such immorality in my own home."
He was still looking at me oddly as I continued to stroke his cock. "I don't want you to be an immoral boy outside of our home, either," I said to him. "That's why I want you to take your pleasure right here in this house."
"Take my pleasure?" He asked.
"That's right, Tommy," I said. "And today Mother is going to supply that pleasure."
I reached to the lace on the front of my nightie. I undid the loose knot that was tied there and the entire front of that nightie spread open. Out came my bare boobs. Out also was my bare pussy area, a nicely trimmed silky little area of pubic hair, an area that compared favorably to the girls in all those pictures of his.
"Tommy," I said to my son, "my bed is made down in the next room. I'm going to get in it. If you want to be a real man, you'll follow me, climb on top of me and then fuck me. Do you understand that?"
He nodded. I stood up. My nightie opened completely and I moved my arms so that it slid off my body, landing at the floor at his feet. He sat there with his baseball shirt still on and his pants down to his knees. His prick was sticking up rigidly.
Completely nude, I walked away from him. I knew he was watching my fine trim ass as I walked away from him, out his door, and then down the hall to my bedroom. I snuggled into that nice warm fresh bed of mine, doctor, and I waited to see if my son would follow ...
... Mrs. C. paused at that moment to light a cigarette.
..."Did he follow?" I finally asked her when the pause became interminable.
"Of course," she said slowly and coolly. "Doctor, any man who has seen me naked from any angle would follow me into a bedroom. No question about it."
"And your son came into your bed?" I asked.
"He came into the bedroom about a minute after I had," she said. "He had taken off all his clothes and was walking with his balls swinging freely and his penis standing up at a full erection. That's when I knew I would save him from the immorality and permissiveness that's creeping all over the world today."
"How was your lovemaking session with him?" I asked.
"Fabulous," said Mrs. C. "He came into that bed under the covers with me and unfortunately he knew exactly what to do to please me."
"Unfortunately?" I asked.
"Of course unfortunately," she said. "He already knew. That means he'd already been making other women. I didn't get to him any too, soon, doctor. You can believe that. He pushed his penis into me and we throbbed together in a long orgasmic lover's embrace. He pumped and stroked and brought my pussy up to a fabulous series of orgasmic bursts. Simply tremendous, doctor. It was as if ... as if ..."
"As if what?" I asked.
"It was as if his penis belonged down there in his mother's slot. And I believe it did. I was saving my boy from sinfulness, doctor. No matter what anyone says, that's what I was doing."
Intrigued as I was with Mrs. S.'s testimony, I was forced to break into it at that moment to handle an emergency telephone message. It seemed that a former patient of mine, a man in his forties, had just made love to his twenty-year-old daughter. Since the sexual relations with his daughter had been successful and had been pleasing to both, the man wanted to know whether it would be "all right" to seduce his sixteen-year-old daughter, too. I advised him to come in for a thorough discussion before any such action. With that matter settled, I was able to return to Mrs. C. and, despite an interruption of over a half an hour, pick up where I had left off.
ii
"Don't you feel, Mrs. C," I asked the attractive blond woman after our unfortunate interruption, "that you might have contributed to the general permissiveness by seducing your son?"
"Why would I feel that way?" She asked. "That's one of the silliest half-assed questions I've ever heard."
"Well, to start with," I said, "incest is against the law in Florida, Equally, it's against the proper codes of conduct prescribed to by almost every ethical standard in this country."
"I believe in what's known as 'situation ethics'," snapped Mrs. C. quickly. "If something fits at the time, I do it. Incest was the right thing at the right time. I had to save my son."
"Save him from what?" I insisted.
"An immoral life," she replied heatedly. "I did it that time and I've done it several times since. Sometimes I have to surprise him with quickie sudden lays."
" 'Quickie sudden lays'?" I asked incredulously. "To save him from immorality and permissiveness?"
"Precisely," she said. "Sometimes it even happens in front of his friends. Would you like to hear about it?"
"Definitely," I said. And Mrs. C. then explained ...
... Part of being a good parent, doctor, is being able to set a good example when necessary. Sometimes it's very hard to set a good example. Sometimes it might even embarrass your or daughter when you're trying to set that example. I know, for example, that time last week when I forced Tommy to fuck me in front of his best friend was a time that kind of embarrassed him. But Tommy was getting in with the wrong crowd. I don't want to overuse the words, doctor, but I had to set the right example for him.
You see, Tommy has a friend named Andy. Andy is a little guy with short dark hair, glasses and the personality of a weasel. I don't like Andy at all. He has all the warmth of a coiled cobra. So I had to set an example for Tommy right in front of Andy.
Andy was trying to lure my Tommy out to this drive-in hamburger joint where they would pick up girls. I walked by Tommy's room that afternoon a week ago and I could overhear them talking. Actually it was Andy who was doing most of the talking. Tommy was doing the listening.
"I guarantee it to you," Andy kept saying to my son. "All you have to do is spend a few minutes at this joint. The sluttiest broads from all over the state come her each night to get laid. A guy who can't score at this place couldn't score in a bordello. It's just that easy."
I listened for Tommy's reply. And I was horrified when I heard my son reply that he was actually thinking of going to such a place.
Well, I was madder that the March Hare! I felt like barging into my son's room and giving him a good swift knee to those big nuts of his. But that wouldn't have solved anything, doctor. And besides, there's already too much violence in the world. So I knew that the way to change his mind was in a more peaceful and loving way. You know the old saying that a way to a man's heart is through his stomach? Well, that's not true, doctor. The way to a man's heart is through his penis!
I quickly went into my bedroom and slipped into a tiny little pair of bikini panties. I nearly put on my sexiest bra but I simply didn't have time. I wanted to get back to Tommy's bedroom before he and that weasel-faced little prick named Andy took off and went out cruising for some sluts.
I stood in front of the mirror in my bedroom and I admired my almost nude body. All I had on was those little orange bikini-style panties. My muff was visible through them. I knew that within a few minutes I wouldn't even have them on. But, doctor, these are the days when a mother might even have to lower her panties occasionally to save her son from immorality and permissiveness. There's nothing in this world worse than the awful promiscuity which so many of these teenagers today practice.
I went directly from my bedroom to my son's room. I walked through the door and stood there in all my physical splendor. There was a stunned silence as I interrupted that snake Andy in mid-sentence. I cupped my palms under each of my boobs and offered them up to the boys for their close inspection. My nipples got hard with excitement as the boys stared at me.
"I don't know about you, Andy," I said softly, "but Tommy doesn't have to leave the comforts of his own home in order to get his full share of pussy. Do you, Tommy?"
Tommy, red in the face, shook his head from side to side. "No, Mother," he replied.
"Andy," I said to that little fart-assed friend of my son, "Tommy is a very good son to his mother. So in return his mother rewards him. Don't I, Tommy?"
"Yes, Mother," my son said.
"And how do I reward you, Tommy?" I asked as I moved closer. My boobs had a nice bounce to them as I strolled forward. My ass wriggled alluringly for the two boys and I hooked my thumb into those bikini panties and I pulled them down to almost the top of my bush.
"You reward me with pussy, Mother," my Tommy said.
"Shit," muttered Andy. "If I didn't see it for myself I wouldn't believe it."
"You should go home, Andy," I said to the little runt. "You should go home and talk your mother into serving up the same goodies that I serve up for my Tommy."
"Shit," he replied. "I just can't believe it. It's all a big fake."
"Think so, asshole?" I said to that little turd.
"Yeah," he said.
"Well then hold onto your meat, you little shithead," I said to that little bespeckled sap. "You're about to see me make some mighty nice music with my son. Loin to loin!"
Doctor, that little bugger Andy sat there with his eyes popping out like a dead fish. I guess that horny little fucker had never seen two people going at it the way my son and I went at it.
As soon as I came close to my well mannered son he leaned forward and gave me a kiss on the crotch. Then I pulled down those panties and kicked them off with my ankle. I kicked them away in such a way that they flew across the room and hit Andy in the face while they were still warm.
Andy stared at my beautiful naked body as my son embraced me and started to apply tender kisses to the area of my clitoris. Then Tommy raised his head as I lowered my tits. He sucked on each tit for a few moments, raising them to the huge hard peaks which almost announced my arousal.
"Come, Tommy," I said to my son as I sat down on his bed with him. "Let's get those awful clothes off you."
"Sure, Mom," he said to me. And within a few seconds he had pulled his shirt off while I had removed his pants and underpants. His penis was standing up like a lightening rod. Andy nearly passed out when I went down on my son and applied a solid three or four minutes of intensive sucking and licking on my boy's penis.
"Mother?" Tommy finally asked. "I have a question."
"Yes, son?" I asked.
"Can we do it doggie fashion this time?" He asked.
I smiled and gave him a special lick on the tender spot on the underside of the penis.
"You just want to show off for your friend," I said as I caressed his balls and nibbled softly at the head of his dork. "You just want to show of how well you can fuck in different positions."
"No, Mom, honest," he said to me. "I feel like doggie fashion today. Please can we do it doggie fashion?"
"Of course, Tommy," I said. "You know how I love doggie fashion every bit as much as you do."
Well, doctor, doggie fashion it was. Right in front of Andy's unbelieving eyes and glasses. I got down on all fours on that bed and my son mounted me doggie style from the back. My pussy was as wet as the Panama Canal by the time he shoved his dork into me back there. He held me by the hips and spread my buttocks apart. Then he sent that huge hard rod of his into me from the backside. It felt like a red hot railroad spike the way it went in ...
... "And was it pleasurable?" I asked Mrs. C. "Did you enjoy having your son make love to you in front of another boy?"
"It's not a matter of enjoyment," Mrs. C. said stiffly. "I was trying to save my son from sin and promiscuity. By fucking him right there that afternoon I set a good example. I showed him that he didn't have to go out and pick up some slut in order to get laid. It was a very healthy and very moral thing that I did."
"I'm sure it was, Mrs. C," I said. "But how did you feel about it. Did you gain any physical satisfaction out of it?"
"Are you kidding?" She asked. "Look. Here I was on all fours. Completely nude and with my ass spread apart. Then here's my handsome well hung son sending his skewer into my slot from the backside. He humped me and he pumped me until my pussy was exploding with orgasmic fervor. I could feel his balls swinging wildly and knocking against my ass. It felt like his dick was ten inches long, it was reaching so far into me. And the best thing about it all was the content feeling I was getting in my pussy while I watched Andy, all alone, watching what we were doing while a big lonely bulge at his crotch slowly developed."
"In other words," I said to Mrs. C, "you enjoyed it."
"I always enjoy fucking my son," she said.
"Does it give you enormous physical pleasure?" I asked.
"It gives me mental pleasure," she replied.
"Of what sort?" I asked.
"I'm saving part of society," she replied. "I'm helping my son live a clear unsullied life. Some parents teach their children to drink and smoke at home so that the kids don't have to go out and do it in cars or at parties. Well, I'm teaching my son to fuck at home. That way he'll keep his dick in his pants at the times when he might be tempted to take it out."
"Do you really believe that?" I asked.
"Of course I do," she snapped. "With the exception of the times I've lured him into bed my son is completely pure."
"Would you like him to stay that way?" I asked.
There was a long pause. "I wouldn't mind," said Mrs. C. "Maybe it would give him a better life if he did stay pure except for when he fucked me."
"Thank you, Mrs. C," I said. "I have no further questions."
CONCLUSIONS TO CASE HISTORY FIVE
The concepts which form an integral part of the analysis of this case are elusive ones. We must define precisely what we are talking about before we go ahead and discuss this most unusual case and psychotic delusions of Mrs. Ethel C.
We have already established the concept of the family unit as the nucleus of what we know as society. This concept of using the family unit as the very basis for social order and societal perpetuation is a concept which is most basic to most European and American societies. The only egregious exceptions to this concept would be found in certain oriental-style cells functioning in North America and in certain of the new communes which can also be found in the United States and Canada. In these latter cases, the cases of communes, the family unit is replaced by a communal unit. That is, the larger society is the family unit as a whole. Incest, of course, in this circumstance would be once removed from the instance of incest in the more traditional nuclear family.
Bronislaw Malinowski discusses this concept of the nuclear society and the family unit as the nucleus of society in his 1972 work entitled Sex and Repression in Savage Society. In this work and in The Sexual Life of Savages, another work similarly concentrating on sexual mores among primitive peoples, Malinowski not only takes up the concept of this nuclear society, but also postulates that exogamy-the practice of sex outside of marriage-is merely an extension of the incest taboo. Malinowski claims that the institution of a family unit classifies sexual relationships on exactly the same basis as the institution of a society or clan. We may let this point pass here, but it is worthy of note since the concept was picked up by Edward Westermack in his own later works.
Westermack who disagreed with Freud contended in The History of Human Marriage, that there is an innate disinclination to mate between members of the same family. Westermack therefore explains the incest taboo as the institutionalizing of something which might be in the same category as homicide. That is, incest is something which civilized people are simply not inclined to do under any circumstances.
Freud, of course, was quite clear and lucid in his disagreement. In Freud's The Development of the Libido and Sexual Organizations the concept of the Oedipal desire was fully explained. Freud claimed that the development of a sexual attraction by a son for his mother was an essential part of the developing sexual nature of the young male. Freud, as we have previously discussed in this volume, saw the Oedipal myth as a clear manifestation of the most basic and primal instincts of the average young male, that is to say that every developing normal male has these incestuous desires towards his mother. Society, as we have seen, has placed prohibitions on these desires and in the case of most males, these desires are outgrown and never acted upon. There are cases, however, where these desires are not suppressed. These childish desires come to the forefront and, as we have seen, incest occurs.
It is these latter examples which disprove Westermack's theory that there is an innate disinclination to mate between members of the same household. Such mating can and does occur. In the time Westermack was writing such instances were virtually unknown. But in the 1970's almost half a century after Westermack, society has become more candid even about that which hitherto was completely taboo even to discussion. We now know of more cases where incest occurs. And, because we are now open to serious discussion on a subject which was prudishly ignored in the past, we are now able to form educated opinions and formalize our analyses on this hitherto undiscussed subject.
Let us consider then the specifics of Mrs. Ethel C.'s case. Mrs. C. was a woman, as the opening of her initial interview reveals, who was very much concerned with society propriety, order and social morality.
Mrs. C, as we learned from her own words, was very much obsessed with what she considered permissiveness in our open society. It is obvious that most of Mrs. C.'s consideration of permissiveness and immorality was based upon-and misinterpretation thereof-certain manifestations of the liberalizing of society. Mrs. C. was correct in her assessment that society is freer now and many things of a sexual nature are now out in the open while they would have been, at the time of her youth, relegated to the proverbial space in a closet of secrecy.
Mrs. C., however, was not able to control her own thoughts and instincts in a meaningful rational way. In many ways, although her fears may have been based upon real happenings, her fears took a delusional form. She developed, in considering the dangers posed toward her son and family by permissiveness, an anxiety level which bordered on the psychotic. The problem, however, can be best explained by borrowing the Freudian concepts of "free-floating anxiety."
We are, of course, familiar with how a neurosis develops. We are familiar with how a problem can play upon the subconscious and disturb the psyche until, without the patient's knowledge, the problem has begun to inflate itself to a subconscious problem of extreme difficulty.
This can take place within anyone's mind. But those who are to begin with generally nervous or anxious people are particularly prone to such problems. Such was the case with Mrs. Ethel C.
Mrs. C. was a woman who had about her always a general apprehensiveness. She, like many other people whom the reader might be familiar with, was a woman who always assumed the worst was going to happen. Such people are often, according to Freud explains in his essay entitled simply Anxiety, such traits are characteristic of a greater problem.
The actual psychological condition is known as "expectant dread" or "anxious expectation." And the condition is symptomatic of a "free-floating anxiety" complex.
Simply stated, Mrs. C.'s anxieties would float freely in her negative mental state until they found a subject to attach to. In this particular case, the anxieties floated freely within Mrs. C.'s fear of permissiveness. But when she considered the dangers of her son becoming involved with such permissiveness behavior, the anxieties drifted quickly to this topic of her son. She quickly developed a fixation concerning his welfare and a psychotic obsession regarding her motherly duty to protect her child from what she considered to be an inherent evil within society. Mrs. C, therefore, thought she was actually doing her maternal duty in protecting her son at the time when she seduced him.
The occurrence of incest between Mrs. Ethel C. and her son might be considered a textbook case of how irrational thinking breeds irrational action. Mrs. C.'s anxiety level was so high and floated so freely among her fears that it was inevitable that eventually her thoughts would turn into irrational acts.
Incest, of course, was an irrational action in this particular case. And as in most cases where incest occurs, it cannot be viewed as having had any beneficial effects for either participant. Rather, it can only be viewed here as the somewhat pathetic and ineffective attempt of an unbalanced mother trying to save her son from a nonexistent evil. It was clear then that Mrs. C. would eventually have to undergo a fairly thorough amount of psychotherapy to rectify what I considered to me an extremely serious condition of mental instability which existed at the time of her seduction of her son.
CONCLUSION
It has been our fortune by now to have considered an interesting cross-section and assortment of motives and psychological motivations for the commission of incest. We have seen unfortunately that the once highly regarded theories of Edward Westermack do not necessarily hold to be true. Mothers and sons would seem to have a disposition toward mating with each other, just as Freud suggested many years ago. The number of cases studied in this volume was of course much too small to use toward any meaningful statistic which could be applied toward incest within the general population. But it nevertheless follows that far fewer mothers and sons are willing to talk about their commission of incest than would be inclined to remain silent on the subject. We might thus be able to speculate that the actual instances of incest within the United States far exceed whatever one's logical statistical expectations might be. But again, we have no way of actually knowing.
Within this volume we have seen in some cases that incest has not necessarily been a harmful occurrence. Similarly we have seen in other cases how incest has been the result of completely irrational fears and desires. In these cases incest can be seen to have had its harmful effects, just as almost any action would have its harmful effects if the mental basis behind that action was an irrational process.
What we have come to by way of conclusion can be drawn out of these preceding points. The overriding conclusion to be made is that while incest may occasionally be an affair of the flesh, it is largely a psychological phenomenon. Therefore, when incest occurs, it must be treated as such.
In these cases, for example, we have seen that often the first desire toward incest is sparked by a specific visual or physical suggestion of sex between mother and child. A mother might notice the child's developing body or the son in turn might for the first time notice his mother's attributes as a woman.
But in the moments that follow a certain thought process must take place. Within each of these patients there has been evidence that the incest taboo-i.e., the societal prohibitions against the commission of incest-has been learned. Thus the mind will have to countermand these mental restrictions. This is what stops most incest from occurring. But in the cases where it does occur, it is the mind's rejection of the incest prohibitions which allows the body to follow the mind's desire.
It is an axiom of physics that with each physical action there must be an equal and counterbalancing physical reaction. In a sense this theory holds true for the mind, also. For each mental process there must be a reaction to that mental process, one which balances or in a further sense offsets that first mental process. I note this procedure because it is quite apropos here.
Many patients casually referred to or at least implied that there had been a certain thrill involved in committing incest, a thrill which many people obtain in doing something which is "forbidden." This is how the mind makes up for doing something which it believes is possibly wrong. It is a subconscious form of rationalization. (See Traumatic Avoidance Learning by Richard L. Solomon and consider the section on avoidance theory and rationalization.) The mind in a sense says, "you can't do that ... but wouldn't it be thrilling if you did?"
It can be easily seen then that an age-old theory among psychologists has held true. Essentially that is that the most volatile erogenous zone within the human body is the human mind. It is in the mind that action begins. And it is in the mind that physical stimulation exists. If the mind has been programmed by society to believe that incest is standard behavior on the part of a boy toward either his mother or sister, the mind would probably accept that concept and incest would be neither rare nor taboo. Instead it would be a common part of our culture.
I stress this preceding point for a reason. I wish to make it clear that incest must be considered with a completely open mind. Incest is one of the medical, psychological and sociological topic to which we come with firmly established preconceived notions or opinions. We must shelve these notions and opinions and consider incest for what it is. That is, an act of sexual gratification between two people-usually of the opposite sex-who have chosen to manifest their love through the giving and returning of physical pleasure. Incest then is love between a male and a female which instead of being expressed on a purely platonic and spiritual level is expressed on the "forbidden" physical plane.
Thus those who indulge in incest often continue to do so. Initial incestuous contact between mothers and sons has been seen to follow a specific pattern. That is, as noted also in S.E. Lehman's A Study of Incest in North American Society and as touched upon by J. P. Bordeleau in his Incest: The Last Sexual Frontier (translated from the French), once incest occurs successfully between two people it often repeats itself. The cases, as can be seen from these five case histories, of a single non-repetitive incident are rare where both partners are not pleased after the initial incestuous act.
There must be a reason for this. According to John Leonard Kenman in The Taboos of Sex, there is a reason.
Simply stated, the reason is that a penis inserted into a vagina will usually be as pleasing an experience for the owner of the penis as for the owner of the vagina. This reason may appear to be self-evident and an oversimplification of the facts. However this fact is stated here because it explains why incest can often occur as a general pattern of behavior in certain circumstances.
A boy in bed with his mother and engaged with her in general sexual activities will often enter such a situation with a good deal of trepidation. He soon learns, however, that his mother can be an enormously satisfying female in the fully sexual sense. The penis will be satisfied and it will announce to that boy's mind that incest, far from being the awful proscribed activity that society has always claimed it was, is a fully pleasurable and valid sexual experience. There should be no surprise to this matter, but there is. The simple fact is that there is no physical harm from an act of incestuous copulation. The only harm that exists inherently in incest-and there is much danger on this point!-Is mental harm. Psychological harm frequently accompanies incest. And that, of course, returns us to our original conclusion. That is, incest is very much of a psychological phenomenon in all its many aspects.
We see then that incest is an act of immorality only because we, functioning as a society, say it is. Incest has always been repressed by the rigid restrictions which society has placed upon its practice, and yet incest has always existed and even flourished in the outmost secrecy. It would seem that throughout world history and from one generation to the next the appetite for incest remains small but undiminished. There will probably always be the taboo against incest, and yet there will probably always be incest, also. People will always take a certain thrill in doing something which is so thoroughly condemned by almost every code or ethic of behavior. We, as citizens, will never be able to do anything to stop the unfortunate practice of this bizarre form of sexual expression. Thus we must educate ourselves to the reasons why incest is committed. If we are to cope with a problem we must first understand that problem. And if we are to understand it, we must first be exposed to the words of those who have engaged in this act. Hopefully the words of these five case histories have contributed to the reader's understanding of the incest problem in America today.
BIBLIOGRAPHY
Chester, William; Incest in North America, Potter-Regan, New York, 1945
de Grazia, Sebastian; Errors of Phytotherapy, Doubleday, New York, 1952
Ellis, Albert; How to Live With a Neurotic, Crown Pub., New York, 1957
Ellis, Albert; The Folklore of Sex, Grove Press, New York, 1961
Ellis, Albert; Reason and Emotion in Psychotherapy, Lyle Stuart, New York, 1962
Ellis, Albert; The American Sexual Tragedy, Lyle Stuart, New York, 1962
Eysenck, H. J.; Uses and Abuses of Psychology, Penguin Books, London, 1963
Eysenck, H. J. (Ed.); Handbook of Abnormal Psychology, Basic Books, New York, 1961
Ford, Clellan S.; Culture and Sex, Hawthorne Books, New York, 1961
