It is often claimed that the modern study of incest is a completely new phenomenon, a phenomenon which stems from the modern trend toward sexual permissiveness and a general relaxation of morality and censorship. Those who hold these beliefs maintain that incest is a vulgar-almost unspeakable-sacrilege against both man and nature and society. But the facts, unfortunately, would appear to contradict this point of view.
Those who hold to this point of view would maintain that the modern obsession with incest and thus all works dealing with such incestuous topics are mere spin-offs of an insatiable modern sexual appetite. And these same people would maintain that the actual modern rise in the actual commission of incest is a general outgrowth of a liberalized sexual ethic and a degenerate modern morality.
Once again, however, this would be to ignore the facts of the matter of incest.
The fact is that incest is as old as recorded history. Many pundits and self-proclaimed analysts of the topic of incest maintain that the first recorded incest dates back to Biblical times. And the fact is that incest is present in the books of the Prophets in the Bible. Instances are too numerous to mention, but the affairs of Sodom and Gomorrah are familiar to any person who has read a Bible in its entirety. But the fact is again that incest has been occurring since even before Biblical times. The Greeks and the Romans all were known to have committed incest and many of the most sacred myths of both of these ancient people revolve around such incestuous sexual activity. We will ge to specifics in good time, but for here it would suffice simply to say that the. commission of incest dates back even farther than Biblical times and even farther than the era of the Greeks and the Romans. The fact is that the oldest cave dwellings known to man and the oldest writings on cave walls in the Paleolithic era of mankind's development show in graphic terms how incest was often committed between family members within these ancient Paleolithic tribes and cave communities.
Thus we can see the fallacy of much of the criticism aimed at modern movies, books and research projects which focus upon the act of incest.
Much of this criticism maintains that society has become "too liberal" or "too permissive" in allowing such a taboo subject to be treated so openly. The fallacy, I submit, is clear.
The fact is that the actual study and recording of cases of incest is no newer than the actual commission of incest itself. That is, we know that incest occurred in the most ancient and most civilized of ancient societies merely because these instances of sexual aberration were recorded for the edification of future generations as well as that present generation. Thus the "new obsession" with incest is no newer than the oldest cave paintings. And such a study and pattern of incest dates back far beyond that Great Book, The Bible, which in certain chapters deals so graphically with the sin of incest.
Thus the "new pre-occupation" with incest is no such thing at all. For as long as people have practiced sex, people have practiced incest. And the practice of incest is-likely to remain with us for as long as sex itself-and thus humanity itself-exists. From this point then we can see that it is the duty of a civilized society to understand those in its midst who choose to practice incest. Only though understanding and education can we as humans separate ourselves from animals: and it might be noteworthy here to add that all animals, including humans, practice incestuous sex upon occasion.
Edward Westermarck, in his famous work entitled The History of Human Marriage speculated and in fact postulated that members of the same family have an innate aversion to incestuous sex. That is, in Westermarck's words, those within the same family unit will instinctively have an aversion to incest and will in fact suffer from a horror of incestuous sex. (The serious student of this subject will wish to consult Freud's A General Introduction to Psychoanalysis as well as Freud's the Development of the Libido and Sexual Organizations. Despite Westermarck's assertions in the History of Human Marriage, Freud-while not totally in accord with Westermarck-draws some interesting conclusions on this subject in his further essay entitled Archaic and Infantile Features in Dreams)
As noted, Freud remarked that this horror of incest can drive human beings to being repulsed thoroughly by the fact of incest. But Freud and the later behaviorist psycho-sexual analysts of the human condition would strongly disagree with Westermarck over the origins of this aversion to incestuous sex. To be specific, most latter day psycho-sexual analysts now maintain that the human aversion to incest is a controlled response that is a function of our learning systems.
That is, we do not innately loathe the act of incest; rather society teaches us that incest is a taboo. Thus we learn that incest is not acceptable behavior.
Why do we bother with this point? If incest occurs, it occurs and why not let the matter go simply at that?
We concern ourselves with this point because this is the point at which we must begin in our analysis of those who commit incestuous sex. It is not enough to simply know that incest has occurred between, say, a father and a daughter, a brother and a sister or a mother and a son. We must know in addition why incest occurred. And to know this we must consider whether incest occurred despite an innate human aversion to incest or if it occurred because an individual failed to learn society's normal prohibitions against incestuous sex.
In 1913 Dr. John B. Watson wrote a book which was to become a standard college text in the sixty-odd years which have followed. The book, which is a familiar one to anyone in the psycho-sexual field, is titled simply Behaviorism.
In this work in 1913 Watson, coming on the heels of Freud, argued that psychology should not be considered to be a science of the mind. Rather, Watson stated, psychology should be re-defined as the study of human behavior. From this point then, from an analytical view of behavior, human beings can be analyzed in regard to their sexual and societal actions.
Naturally, being a new concept in psychoanalytical analysis, Behaviorism was a radical departure for the times. Almost all of the psychologists of Watson's time (See Freud's Introduction to the Psychoanalytical Sciences and Gerhard Zeitgeist's Man, Mind, and Psychoanalysis) felt they were dealing with mental processes in a word subject to consciousness and mental order. Watson thus fell into controversy and ultimately into repute. But adherents to the Behaviorist school of psychotherapy exist to this day. This is important here since these scientists have their own explanation for why incest occurs or fails to occur.
Yet at the same time, these latter-day behaviorists are at odds with both Westermarck and Freud. Let us explain exactly where these three schools of thought would stand on the delicate subject of incest.
Westermarck's theories we've already examined. Westermarck and those others in the Westermarckian school of psychotherapy (See also Dr. Enrico Paliermi's Within Human Society, originally delivered as a doctorate at the University of Rome (believe that incest is against the most basic aspects of human nature and occurs only among those who are totally disoriented from their most basic human instincts. Westermarckian psychotherapists contend that incest occurs seldom but should be treated as a serious psychotic disorder in those cases where it does occur.
Those in the Watsonian School of behaviorism, however, would differ. Watson (See also
About Behaviorism by B. F. Skinner) would contend that all human behavior is subject to the conditioning factors which have been exposed to the person in question. In other words, each individual is merely a product of the forces which have shaped and conditioned him or her.
The Watsonian theory then would contend that each person who is involved in incestuous activity would obviously have been exposed to some stimulus which encouraged the incestuous thoughts.
This theory is important so we will take a case in point. Let us consider the case mentioned by Dr. Clement Bond in a 1972 publication in Great Britain entitled Deviate Sexual Practices in the United Kingdom (Excluding India).
Dr. Bond, a lecturer at the University of Woodshampton, cited the case of a young girl who, at the age of sixteen, wandered into her father's bedroom.
The young girl, as subsequent interviews revealed, was a virgin at the time. Yet the girl was well past puberty at the specific time when she wandered into her father's room and started to prowl through his closets.
She smelled the tobacco scent of his clothes and the masculine cologne scent of his shirts. She picked through the scratchy tweeds of his suits and she examined his expensive underwear. In short, she began to examine all the masculine aspects of her father's dress. Later, when he returned home from his office, she watched him from a crack in the door as he undressed.
She intently studied his naked body, particularly his penis. She was excited by his mature muscular build. And understandably enough, states Dr. Bond, she began to regard him as something other than a father. That is, she began to think of him as a husky, virile male who lived beneath the same roof as she.
Dr. Watson in the original book Behaviorism states that, "the muscular and mental responses used in the sex act are...(invariably) the result of learned responses..." We can see how this applies to this particular case cited by Dr. Bond.
The young girl in question was approaching adolescent sexuality and was in fact in a prime situation to be responsive to stimuli of a sexual nature. (See Freud's Stimulus and Response.) The young girl thus responded to the masculine stimulus of her father's clothing and then carried the point further by wanting to see his bare body. Eventually the father completely represented sex to her. It was not at all surprising then that she attempted to seduce him.
The seduction was standard. In the absence of her mother she presented herself naked to her father, climbing into his lap as he sat in an easy chair. She reached to his penis and manipulated it until it was erect. Then, continuing to caress his penis so that he could not stop his own exposure to stimuli, she led him to erection and then had him lower his suit pants.
The young girl then sat on his penis, taking it into her, attaining full intercourse and leading both herself and her father to orgasm. What is important here is not simply that she and her father made love, but from the Watsonian point of view, this was the classic conditioning and response circumstance that led to intercourse.
In other words, from the Watsonian point of view, the girl was conditioned in her sexual response to her father. She did nothing other than react to the stimuli which she was exposed to when she prowled through his belongings. The act of incest thus can be seen as an end result of the conditioning factors which were at work upon the girl. Adherents to Westmarck's theories would maintain that the girl had suffered perhaps a psychotic break and was traumatized by viewing her father's naked body. But this, of course, would be to ignore the fact that the young girl went on her own free will to (I) prowl among her father's belongings and (2) to spy on him while he was undressing.
Let us consider now the third school of thought, that of Freudian psychoanalysis, before actually moving on to the five candid case histories which will form the bulk of this volume. Freud, of course, was deeply concerned with the inter-familial sexual relationships among human beings; so much so that the terms "Electra complex" and "Oedipus complex," while stemming from the classic Greeks are considered by many ill informed students to be Freud's emminent domaine.
Freud in his Basic Writings explained that there is within all of us certain subconscious incestuous yearnings. Within small boys there is the "Oedipus complex," based on the Greek myth of Oedipus and characterized by a son's longing to have sexual intercourse with his mother. Similarly, Freud explains, there is such a thing as the "Electra Complex" based on the Greek myth of Electra, the princess who married her father.
Where do these complexes come from? Most Freudians have an explanation which differs considerably from the explanations which the adherents of Westermarck and Watson would give for the commission of incest.
While Westermarck maintains that incest is against the very nature of humans and while Watson would conjecture that incest must stem from certain conditioned responses, Freud and the post-Freudians would conjecture that the drive toward the commission of incest is within the very nature of human males and females. (See again Freud's Basic Writings.
This theory, if true, would go a long way toward explaining why incest has always been with us and why it will probably always be with us. The fact is that human nature is one of the hardest of all matters to change. Human nature may have been altered by the passage of modern times, but most anthropologists maintain that man's basic nature (See R. F. Kennil-worth's The Nature of the Human Animal) has not evolved to a great degree since the neanderthal age. A study of human history would equally seem to confirm this theory.
Essentially then we will attempt to see incest through the possible explanations which Westermarckians, Watsonians or Freudians might offer. We would hope then to come to some conclusions about incest, some conclusion which might, in the midst of controversy and confusion, lend us a certain understanding of this long misunderstood and oft maligned subject. Understanding, after all, is what separates man from the other animals.
CASE HISTORY ONE
It was not too long ago that a young woman like Miss Marijane H. would never come forward and confess to the type of sexual conduct that my patient in this first case history admitted to. Incest has always been difficult to admit, particularly when it occurs between father and daughter.
Young Marijane H., eighteen years old, came to my offices on a bright spring day in May of 1974. Miss H. was very definite about what she wished to discuss.
"It's something which has been going on between my father and I," she said to me. "We've been doing something which you're going to say is immoral."
"How do you know ahead of time exactly how I'm going to react?" I asked her.
"You shrinks are all alike," she shrugged. "I know that what we've done violates society's rules. That's why I'm so uptight about it. That's why I have to discuss it."
"I'd be perfectly happy to discuss your problem with you, Miss H., " I said to her. "And I can assure you that I will approach your problem with a completely open mind."
"I think that's bullshit," she said.
"I beg your pardon?" I asked.
"What we've been doing is something that people rarely admit to doing. You're not going to like it at all. You're going to try to find something seriously wrong with us psychologically."
"Miss H., " I said to her, "I believe it's you who is now bringing a pre-conceived notion to these proceedings. Perhaps you should stop your analysis of this case and start telling me exactly what happened."
"We've been fucking," she said.
"You and your father?" I asked, looking up at her.
"That's right," she said. "See?" she asked. "I knew you'd think we were strange perverted people."
"I don't think that at all," I said. "The facts of the matter are that incest occurs frequently every day in the United States. The fact that you and your father have had sex is actually nothing uncommon."
"Holy shit," she said. "Now you're going to tell me that fathers and daughters fuck with each other all the time. Is that the line you're going to try to feed me?"
I looked at the attractive young girl. She was eighteen years old but had already developed into a mature, attractive and sensual young woman. She wore a short little yellow skirt which made her long tan legs seem all the more tan and which also made her long blonde hair seem all the more blonde. Her breasts were full and round, a fact which was readily apparent beneath the sheer thin cotton fabric of her blouse.
"I wouldn't try to tell you any such thing," I said to her. "But the fact is that incest has begun to occur more frequently in North America. No longer are many fathers and daughters ashamed of what they've done. Now many of them freely admit that they've had incest."
"Is that right?" she asked, her mood changing slightly.
"It is," I replied. "That's why it's important that you tell me exactly how you and your father happened to have sex with each other."
"I didn't follow that," she said. "Why is it important that I talk to you about what Daddy and I did?"
"Because," I replied, "as incest creeps into public view and as more and more people become involved in sexual acts of an incestuous nature, more and more people wish to know about the commission of incest."
"How do you mean that?" she asked. "What is there to know about incest? You screw someone who you're related to by blood. Isn't that all there is?"
"Hardly," I said. "You neglect the emotions of the situation. Wouldn't you say that you have a certain emotional attachment to your father?"
"Sure," she said. "Doesn't everybody?"
"Of course," I said. "But the fact is that such an emotional attachment can change under the emotional stress of incestuous sex. That's one of the most important aspects of what we're studying in this report."
"Oh," she replied.
"You see," I continued to Miss H., my attractive young patient, "sex is not something which can be isolated from the other aspects of a person's mind and body."
"What do you mean by that?" she pressed again.
"What I mean is that sex is both a physical and mental function. Many people see sex as a purely physical thing. Many people who put themselves in the position of community censors, for example, often react to sex in that way. That is, they don't interpret the emotional and psychological expressions of sex acts. These people see sex only on its simplest and most basic level-the physical level."
"Oh," she said. "I guess that's the way I like to look at it, though."
I asked Miss H. exactly what she meant by that.
"The level on which I find sex most enjoyable," she said. "That's the physical level. I like to go horizontal with my father. That's how I like to ball."
"I see," I said. "And how long has this been going on?"
"How long have we been fucking?" she asked. "Is that what you want to know."
"Yes," I said.
"About eight months," she said. "But we'd started to have sex a few weeks before that."
"I see," I nodded. "In other words you started to have sexual contact before you actually had sexual intercourse."
"Right," she said. "And as soon as that began I knew I wanted to have sex with Daddy. I knew that it was something I just wanted to do."
"Even though you must have known that society considers incest to be highly immoral?" I asked.
"I don't give a royal flying fuck about what society thinks," she said. "I'm liberated. I don't have to care about bullshit like that."
"What kind of sex were you having before you actually had intercourse?" I asked. "Petting? Necking?"
"Better than that," she said.
"Please tell me," I insisted.
"I was blowing him," she said. "And he was performing cunnilingus on me."
"I see," I said. "Oral sex."
"That's what it's called," she commented smugly. "Oral sex. Good oral sex."
"It pleased you?"
"Very much," she said. "Although like I said, it merely whetted my appetite for something better."
" 'Something better' being sexual intercourse? " I asked.
"That's right," she said.
"I'd like to know exactly how it began, Miss H., " I then said to her. "Before we waste any more time would you tell me about he initial sexual contact between you and your father?"
"Doctor,", she said, "it would be a real thrill for me to tell you. Every time I tell someone how it happened I get turned on all over again about that beautiful time when Daddy and I started to screw around."
"Please begin when you're ready," I advised. I waited for a few moments while Miss H. re-adjusted her short little mini-skirt. Then she related this story. ...
. . . I guess it was maybe about nine months ago when it began, doctor. I know it was a few weeks between the first oral contact and the first time he stuck his prong into my hot little vaginal slot. Well, here's what happened.
I was sound asleep one night in my own house, doctor, the house where I live with my parents and my two younger brothers. Normally I sleep very soundly, doctor, and never wake up in the middle of the night. Well, this night was different. This night I got up in the middle of the night. As it turned out, getting up in the middle of that night was to change my life.
I had been out on a date that night with a guy named Jimmy. Jimmy was a guy who was a real good looker and was well hung. He just had one problem, a problem which a lot of guys have: he used to come too soon.
That's a problem which many guys have, of course, doctor. More guys have that problem that any guy realizes. But facts are facts. Unless a guy can stroke my box for ten vigorous minutes with his fully extended prong, he has no chance whatever of satisfying me. There's nothing worse than having good foreplay and a good vigorous penetration only to have the guy gush his seeds out after merely a four or five minute stroke.
That's why my Daddy is such a good fuck, doctor. He can hold an erection for almost twenty minutes. And he's got a prick that could satisfy an elephant.
Well, I'm jumping ahead a bit, doctor. The fact is that I woke up in the middle of that night and there were two reasons why I woke up. Daddy and Jimmy.
You see, Jimmy had come too soon that previous evening. I had just been ready to get off a good hard orgasmic blast when Jimmy's penis erupted and spilled all of its juice down into my cunt. Now I've got nothing against a guy getting excited and coming, but a gentleman always waits until the lady has at least had a few good orgasms of her own.
Well, Jimmy never waits. He can't wait. And after fucking with him for several weeks I was getting pretty fed up .with having my pussy filled up with sperm but without having my own orgasms to go with that fill-up.
"Shit," I said to myself when I went to bed that night, "one of these days I'm going to impale my pussy on the bedpost. That's how horny Jimmy is making me."
Well, I didn't impale my cunt on the bedpost that night although I did give it very serious thought. I also gave serious thought to getting my trusty old vibrator out of the closet and dildoing myself with that, too. But I refrained from all of that. Instead I did what so many poor uneducated girls do. I simply went to bed horny, trying to lose my horniness by disappearing into a deep sleep.
It didn't work. Some nights it does work and other nights it fizzles. On this particular night, doctor, it fizzed badly but it still worked out well for me in the end.
You see, at about four o'clock in the morning I woke up and felt this terrible itch down there in my pussy. I knew what the itch was, doctor. It was pure unadulterated horniness, the kind of hominess a girl gets when she desperately needs to be fucked. I reached down to my pussy and I started to massage my clitoris. I moaned with contentment for a few seconds.
"Nice," I thought to myself as I worked over that clit with the cool soothing strokes of my finger. Only a woman knows exactly how the clitoris needs to be stroked. Men have no idea of how that magic little button must be treated.
"Very nice," I thought as my pussy got wet and started up toward the pre-orgasm plateau. I knew I could get myself up to that first level of excitement and then would be able to finish the job with that vibrator.
"Very nice, indeed," I thought to myself. And then I realized something strange.
There was a light on downstairs. Through the partially opened door to my room I could see that someone had left a light on in the downstairs living room. Either someone had left that light on or someone had gone downstairs. But why would anyone have gone down there at four o'clock in the morning.
I stopped what I was doing, got up out of bed, and went out of my room to investigate. I walked to the stairway that led down to the living room. I looked down to the living room and what should I see. It was my father, that big muscular man. He was sitting there all alone.
He looked very sad, doctor, and I thought that there might be something wrong. So slowly, pulling my short little silk nightie close to me, I walked down the stairs to where Daddy was.
"Marijane?" he asked. "What ... how ... what are you doing up at this hour?"
"I couldn't sleep," I said, looking at his powerful big chest through the open front of his pajamas. "And then I saw the light on down here."
He smiled and looked downward. "I couldn't sleep, either," he said. "I guess we both have problems." He looked back up with those sexy big blue eyes of his. "Maybe we both have the same problems," he added.
I looked at him and smiled. Then I realized that his eyes-my father's eyes-were looking me up and down. He was eyeing the little bumps of my nipples that were visible beneath my nightie. And he was equally looking at my long lean legs, those nice tan legs that I use to seduce guys in my class at high school.
"Does Daddy have a problem?" I asked him innocently.
"I do," he said. "A very serious problem."
"Should I sit down next to you?" I asked. "Maybe you'd like to tell me about it."
He looked at me and I looked back down at him. I was suddenly aware of what I saw beneath the trousers of his pajamas. There was a big rod rising up down there, a big phallus rising down between his legs. I began to wonder whether Daddy's problem had anything to do with sex. And one thing was clear: getting an erection was not the problem.
I sat down next to him and he wrapped his arm around me. He took me so firmly in that muscular masculine arm and he looked at me so sexily that I could feel my pussy starting to get warm and damp with desire.
"I would like to tell you about it, Marijane," he said to me. "And even more, I'd like it if you could do something about it. Do something and do it now."
"Gosh, Daddy," I said to him, feeling my pussy getting even wetter. "You know I love you. I'd do anything if it were real important for you."
"Anything? he asked.
"Anything," I said. "Daddy should know by now that he can count on his loving daughter for anything he wants."
"I'm glad you explained that to me," he said softly, "because I'm going to ask you to do something which may strike you as being very strange. But believe me, Marijane, it's extremely important to me."
"Anything, Daddy," I replied. "What I said was what I meant. Just tell me what you want."
"What I want," he explained slowly, "is a good blow job."
"Daddy!" I squealed. My pussy was hot with excitement now. The walls of my vagina were manufacturing that hot juice of desire and the juice was flooding forth so fast that I was afraid it was going to overflow from my pussy lips and flood all over the hair of my muff."
"Yes," he confirmed, "a blow job. That's what I want. It's what I've wanted for a long time now."
"From me?" I asked.
"From anyone," he answered. "I want a woman to take my penis in her mouth and suck on it. Have you ever done that for a guy?" he asked.
"I have, Daddy," I nodded frankly. "Two guys from the football team and three other guys in the senior class at the school I go to."
"Five times all together?" he asked.
"More that that, Daddy," I said candidly. "I've done it more than once for some of them."
"Very good," he said. He slipped his arm down around me and wrapped it around me down from my shoulder so that his hand came to rest on my bare tit. He felt my tit nicely and made it get all excited. I could feel the firm hard nipple on that breast and I was pleased that Daddy considered his little girl to be a sexy woman.
"Daddy?" I asked.
"What?"
"What about Mom?" I asked.
"What about her?" he asked. "A wife's duty is to blow her husband whenever he needs it. Isn't that so, Daddy? Or am I saying something wrong? "
"You're not saying anything wrong," he said, "but your question gets to the heart of the whole problem."
"It does?" I asked. "Why?"
"Your mother simply won't take me into her mouth, tool me and let me come," my father said to me. "I've been after her ever since we were married years ago. I've always wanted her to do it. And she never would."
"Poor Daddy," I said.
"Some women are like that," he said. "Some women just don't think that they'll like the taste of the semen in their mouths. I don't know why."
"Semen tastes good, Daddy," I said to console him. "It tastes good in the pussy and good in the mouth."
"I know that," he said, "and you know that. The trouble is that your mother doesn't know that. And she won't let me give her the chance to find out."
"Poor, poor Daddy," I commented again. And I knew now that I was going to have to do something good to console him, something which would make him feel much better.
I looked him straight in the eye as I reached my hand to his lap.
"Poor Daddy," I said to him aloud. "Is a suck off that important to you?"
He nodded. "Right now," he said, "a suck off is a very important thing to me. My lack of having a suck off is why I can't sleep at all tonight."
"Poor Daddy," I said again. I moved my hand around his lap and I started to rub my palm against that big hard rod that was poking up in his pants.
"Daddy," I said to him, "I don't think you should have to be that unhappy. You've been a good father and I think you should have anything you want."
" Anything? "he asked.
"Anything," I said. "Even a nice blow job."
"But who ... I mean, who would . , . ? "
"Daddy," I said to him tenderly as I continued to rub my palm against the big bulge in his pants and as he continued to fondle my boob, "when one girl in the family fails you, another girl should be sure not to."
"You mean...?"he asked.
"That's right, Daddy," I said to him. "If you just drop your trousers down I'll be glad to make that nice big cock of yours just as happy as it ever would want to be."
"Oh, Marijane," he said to me, "how can I possibly thank you?"
"Don't worry, Daddy," I said to him "I'll think of a way real soon."
"My dear little Marijane," he said to me, "I think you already know what you can do to please me."
"I moved my hand along his pajamas until I had reached into that front slot of the pajamas. I reached inside and felt that big long tool that was beneath the cloth slot. I began to rub my hand up and down the long shaft of his prick.
"Oh, Daddy," I cooed to him. "I had no idea that you were such a big, big man."
"A prick of that size scares your mother," Daddy confided to me. "She thinks it will choke her to have such a big organ in her mouth."
"It doesn't scare me, Daddy," I said to him. "It excites me to see such a handsome long tool."
"Well then," he said. "I guess you know what to do."
I didn't say anything more. I merely continued to caress that huge rod of his as he un-snapped the bottoms of his pajamas. Then Daddy helped me remove that skimpy little nightie that I wore over my firm young teenage body.
I wriggled out of the little night panties that I wore and Daddy pulled off the tops of his pajamas. I was nude and so was my father. He kissed me on each nipple and he rubbed his strong hand across my little bare bush.
"Soft," he commented.
"Me?" I asked.
"Your bush," he said. "Nice and soft. Just like your mother's used to be."
"Give me a feel, Daddy," I said. "Before I go down on you give me a nice feel."
He rubbed his finger through the crack of my pussy. The tip of that finger honed right in on my clitoris and started to bring the clit up to a firm hard peak. I almost started to purr at the feeling he was giving me down there. I thought back to how much I'd wanted my boyfriend to stay in there and prolong his come earlier that same evening. I knew that my woman-spring was wound up as tightly as it possibly could go. I knew it would take a good hard man to snap that spring and give me the orgasms I'd been craving for such a long time.
Daddy stroked my clitoris with that talented forefinger and brought me right up to that plateau of orgasm where every girl craves to be taken. My whole pussy, which still had some of my boyfriend's semen in it, started to pulse with desire.
"Daddy," I cooed to him as the two of us writhed naked together on that couch. "Daddy, after I do something to satisfy you will you do something to satisfy me?"
"Of course, dear," he said to me. "I'd give my loving daughter absolutely anything she wanted."
"Thank you, Daddy," I said to him. "That's all I need to know. Now you're going to have a nice big come in my mouth."
"Oh, Marijane," he cooed to me."
"Hang on, Daddy," I said to him, "you're going to come like you've never come before."
"Oh, shit," he muttered. "Go down on me! Go down on me! Go down! Go down!"
Daddy really liked what happened next, doctor. He held his legs wide apart as he sat on the edge of that sofa. I knelt down on that living room floor and I took the head of his penis between my fingers. I gave him a little lick on the tip of the penis and I ran my tongue in and out of the big hole on the tip of that big long tool."
"Semen," I giggled to my father. "There's already a little drop of semen on that penis tip."
"I'm going to come fast," he warned.
"Fast and hard," I said hopefully. "I like to feel a good hard gush of come spurting into my mouth."
"That's just what you're going to feel," he said. "In such a short time, too."
"That's okay Daddy," I said. "Just come when you want to. What I want is Daddy to enjoy his orgasmic blast."
Daddy relaxed completely on that sofa and I cupped my hands around those big hairy balls of his. I reached my mouth to the head of his penis and now instead of merely licking the tip I took the full head of that cock into my mouth.
"The underside," he said. "Lick the little spot on the underside."
I know-like any experienced girl knows-that men simply go wild for licks on the underside of their penises. I moved my mouth up and down on his prick and I ran my tongue up and down the length of that long blue vein on the underside of his rod. Over and over I stroked that long tool until it swelled up with the full hardness of desire and excitement. Then I continued to lick. I could tell how hard and excited Daddy was getting.
"Harder," he said. "Suck harder."
I sucked. I washed my tongue back and forth across the sensitive spot on the underside of his tool and I licked furiously. I tasted more semen as it formed on the head of that long hard shaft of his.
"Harder!" he grunted. "Harder still! And press on the balls!" Daddy was breathing hard now. His face was red and I knew he was going to have either an orgasm or a heart attack. I waited for the burst of come in my mouth.
"Please, Daddy," I moaned as I sucked and labored over his big tool. "Come, Daddy, come!"
I sloshed my tongue across his tool and I pressed my palms firmly around his balls just as he'd asked me to do. I could feel those solid balls against my palms and I was impressed by them. My boyfriend didn't have a pair of nuts like that. But my Daddy was a big virile male beast and my boyfriend-or my sad excuse of a boyfriend-was a little runt with an uncontrollable penis and a pair of tiny cubes where many men had big virile hairy balls which please women.
"Now!" Daddy grunted. "Press hard and suck!"
I sucked with all I had and I held those nuts of his as firmly as I could. The penis spasmed in my mouth.
"Suck!" he exclaimed, so loud this time that I was afraid it would awake my mother.
"Suck! Cunt! Fuck! Balls! Suck hard! Suck hard!"
Doctor, I'm not at all ashamed to admit what happened. That big penis of Daddy's spasmed hard and erupted into my mouth. I sucked as well as I could and I got gob after hot spasming come as it burst forth from that big hard dick of his. Over and over the hot gobs of semen spurted out of his tool as my mouth worked over it. The long shots of semen burst forth violently and I gulped them down my throat.
"Cunt-fuck!" Daddy exclaimed violently. "Cunt-fuck! My daughter! My own fucking daughter!"
I continued to work on that tool until I'd drained it. Daddy sure had had a lot of semen stored up in his warehouse for male juice.
"Blown," he finally muttered as those last few sharp orgasmic bursts sent seeds frothing up into my mouth. "Blown by my own daughter. Shit!"
Then Daddy fell silent. His frantic dick went silent, too, squirting its final few drops of come down into my throat, I drank it down greedily, doctor, knowing that I'd done something to please my father that my mother had never been woman enough to do. And that was it. I released his tool and let the limp penis flop back down onto his balls. I swallowed what was in my mouth and I tasted the womanly afterglow of having led a man to orgasm....
. . . "I see," I said to Miss H. as the attractive eighteen-year-old brought her story to a conclusion. "And that's how you brought your father to sexual gratification for the first time?"
"That's right," she said.
"And how did you feel afterward?" I asked.
"What do you mean?" she asked.
"What emotions did you feel?" I asked, moving nearer to one of the scientific focal points of this psychosexual research project.
"I don't understand the question," she stated simply.
"Well, Miss H., " I said to her, "I don't want to put words in your mouth, but some women feel remorse after having had sexual contact with a once-removed blood relative. Other women feel a sort of sexual excitement which is never experienced any other way. How exactly did you feel?"
"I felt proud," she said. "Proud and anxious."
"A novel reaction, Miss H., " I said. "Could you be more specific about what you mean?"
"Sure," she said. "I felt proud that I'd been woman enough to turn on Daddy with fellatio. Let's face it, doctor, some girls are miserable flops when it comes to sucking a guy off."
"I see," I said.
"Have you ever been blown, doctor?" she asked.
"My own personal sexual experiences should not be part of this interview, Miss H., " I said, "but you might correctly assume that any sexually active male has fellatio performed on him now and then."
"Well then," she said, "in that case you know what I mean, don't you?"
"How?" I asked.
"About some girls being flops with their mouths," she said. "It made me proud that I'd been successful and had made a virile man like Daddy come in my mouth."
"I see," I said.
"And at the same time I felt anxious," she added.
"Anxious how?" I pressed.
"Anxious to be satisfied in the same way," remarked Miss H. "Daddy said that he'd do anything I wanted to return the favor for me. Well, I knew what I wanted, and I knew Daddy was good to his word. So I was anxious for Daddy to make good on the deal. I could hardly wait, in fact."
(It should be noted here that the patient is using the word "anxious" to indicate the popular connotation of the word: that is, she refers to a state of anticipation which she found herself in. This is not at all to be confused with the Freudiam definition of "anxiety" as defined in Freud's Anxiety, Stress and Fear in Inter-personal Relationships.)
"And did he keep is part of the bargain?" I asked young Miss H.
"Of course," she snapped briskly. "Daddy wouldn't stiff me on something that important."
"I see," I said, glancing at my watch and noting that the assigned time for our first interview session had expired.
"In that case, Miss H., " I said, "I'd like to hear about what your father did for you."
"It was beautiful, doctor," she sighed. "I don't mind telling you about it at all. The first thing he did was to turn me over and put his great big-"
"Please, Miss H., " I interrupted quickly, "not yet. The time for this session has passed. What I'd like you to do is return in three days and tell me about this in greater detail."
"Three days?" she asked after a slight pause. "Shit. I don't think I can wait that long. Hell. I don't think I can live that long without telling you about it."
"I'm afraid you'll have to, Miss H., " I said. "I have to see another patient immediately. It's a serious case involving a mother who has seduced all four of her sons."
"Shit!" said Miss H., almost in awe. "How old are the boys? Just passed puberty?"
"Much older, Miss H., " I said. "All the boys are grown and married. They're all in their late twenties and early thirties. That's what makes the case so serious. There's adultery involved in addition to incest."
"Shit," she remarked slowly. "And I though I had troubles!"
In light of those circumstances I thus asked Miss H. if she might return in three days to finish her story of incest. Miss H. agreed. Just before leaving, however, Miss H. remarked that there had been one thing which she had wanted her father to do for her. According to Miss H., he had not disappointed her. He had given her what she had wanted.
* * *
When young Marijane H. returned to my offices three days later she was clad in a short pink hot pants suit and a pair of tight white boots which fit up her tanned legs almost to her knees. Miss H. was in a talkative mood for this second interview session at my offices.
"I believe at the end of your last visit, Miss H., " I said to her, "you remarked that your father hadn't failed to please you. Am I correct?"
"You are," she said.
"You said there was something that you had wanted him to do," I continued.
"That's right," she said.
"And he did it for you," I continued.
"Right again," she said.
"What was it?" I asked frankly.
"Cunnilingus," she remarked.
"Cunnilingus?" I asked.
"That's right," she said. "I'd always wanted to have my father do a muff-dive on me. He'd never done one and I'd never before dared to ask him for one. Now seemed like the perfect time. Don't you think so?"
"I wouldn't know without knowing more about what happened," I said to her. "Would you tell me what happened?"
"I'd be glad to," she said. And young Miss H. crossed her long tanned legs and told me the following story. ...
. . . All during the time that I'd been sucking on my father's penis I'd be thinking about how good it would feel to have that big tongue of his slipped up into my vagina.
Daddy is a very big man, doctor, with long arms, wide shoulders, a long penis and a frightfully long tongue. It's the kind of a tongue that fits very nicely into a girl's cunt. I'm not sure whether you understand what I mean, doctor, but let me assure you that any girl would understand what I'm talking about.
After I'd swallow his come I licked his penis a little more, soothing it after that big explosive orgasm that he'd had in my mouth. I let it slip back to its flaccid state and then I caressed his balls so nicely that he nearly dozed off. But Daddy wasn't finished for the night. Only half the battle was over as far as he was concerned.
"You're a little doll," he said to me. "And Daddy will do anything you want whenever you want. That's the deal we made and I'm going to stick to it."
"Honest, Daddy?" I asked.
"Of course," he asserted.
"Well then, Daddy," I countered. "I know just what I want and I know just when I want it."
"You do?" he asked, my hand still playing gently and lovingly with his tool."
"I do," I said.
"What do you want?" he asked. "And when do you want Daddy to do it for you?"
"What I want is cunnilingus," I said. "And I want it now."
"Cunnilingus?" he asked, his penis giving a twitch of excitement as he spoke the word.
"Right," I said.
"Now?" he asked.
"Now!" I affirmed.
"But . .--. ? " he asked, his eyes glancing to the stairway to suggest that my mother might come down and catch us in the middle of our love play.
"Daddy isn't going to try to back out on the deal, is he?" I pouted.
"No," he said, "but. ... "
"Don't talk, Daddy," I squealed, running a hand up and down the long shaft of his dick, "just take a dive. You'll like it every bit as much as I will!"
He looked at me for a moment and he began to smile. I gave a little wriggle to my hips and I held my legs apart. His strong hands then moved down toward my hiis and he started to pick me right up.
"Cunnilingus, huh?" my father asked. "Is that what my little girl wants?"
"That's right, Daddy," I said.
"Well," he said, "if that's what you want, that's what you'll get. Right here on the couch."
He picked me up with those strong hands of his and he tossed me down on that couch.
"Oh, Daddy!" I squealed. "You can be such a man. Not at all like my boyfriend!"
"My little girl doesn't want any skinny-pricked little high school kid in her cunt," Daddy said. "Not when her cunt can be treated to a big virile man!"
"Oh, Daddy! That's just what I think!" I exclaimed. "Have me! Have me with your tongue!"
"Open up those nice little legs!" he exclaimed back to me. "And I'll give you just what you want!"
He held my hips as he forced me onto that couch. I looked down to the little white area which wasn't tanned from the times I'd worn my skinny little bikini bottom. I could see the little white triangle and the little brown muff of pubic hair. And his face was coming closer.
"Daddy! Your tongue! Let me have the tongue," I pleaded over and over. I wriggled my hips and I gyrated my pussy until the whole slot was soaking wet with the juice of desire. And then I pleaded some more for that big tongue.
He pressed his face to my muff. The tip of that firm strong tongue of his shoved itself up against the top of my pussy crack and that tongue then darted against the hot hard little clitoris that rode high in the pussy crack. I never felt anything quite so good as that tongue touching my pussy for the first time. Then the tongue slipped down toward the vaginal opening. And Daddy began to lick.
Daddy slurped his tongue up and down the length of my pussy lips and he brought my vagina to a state where it was really frothing. I gyrated my hips again and pushed my muff firmly toward him so that the long tongue could press all the way down into me.
"Oh, Daddy," I cooed. "Oh, Daddy, that feels so fucking good, so fucking fantastic!"
He started to swirl his tongue in a circular motion within my pussy, doctor. His strong hands remained on my hips and held me firmly as I undulated. I could feel that womanspring of mine wind itself tighter and tighter, so tight that I thought it was absolutely going to burst.
"Shit, Daddy," I moaned next. "Push it in farther; push that long tongue in as far as it can go!"
I undulated even harder and I spread my legs so wide that I thought they were going to come apart like a wishbone. Daddy's tongue pressed at least five inches into me and started to lick me beautifully was down into my vaginal walls.
"Oh, Daddy," I sighed breathlessly. "Beautiful. Just fucking beautiful."
"Going to come?" he asked, speaking in a voice muffled by my muff.
"Yes, Daddy," I moaned. "Gonna come. Gonna come right now!"
Doctor, I sucked in my breath and I absolutely held on for dear life. My woman-spring wound itself so tight that it absolutely burst forth with a tremendous pelvic thrust which was my first orgasm.
"Oh, Daddy! Oh, shit! Daddy! Daddy!" I moaned over and over. That tongue of his was thrusting downward and into me over and over now, driving my poor pussy to an absolute frenzy of excitement as it pumped forth with orgasms.
"Oh, balls!" I barked out. "Oh, Daddy, yes!"
His tongue swirled around inside me with a deep swirling circular motion, a motion which moved my orgasming pussy onward with even more orgasmic blasts. I pumped and I pumped and I pumped, doctor. And each time I pumped forward my pussy let out with another long hard orgasmic blast.
. . . "I see," I said to Miss H. as she concluded the account of how her father performed cunnilingus on her. "And you obviously enjoyed this sexual attention."
"Enjoyed it?" she gasped, almost mocking my question. "Shit on toast, doctor, what kind of question is that? I orgasmed all over his mouth while he pronged me with his tongue. Doesn't that tell you whether I enjoyed it or not? "
"Indeed it does, Miss H., " I said to her. "It tells me that you were so excited on that first night that you had complete oral sex with your father."
"Right on," she said.
"But there's something else that it doesn't tell me," I said to her. "What?" she asked. "Genital sex," I said softly. "What about it?" she countered. "I need to know about full sexual intercourse, too," I said to her.
"Well," she said slowly, "we do that too. There's no secret about it."
"I know there isn't, Miss H., " I said to her. "But I need to know a little about these sexual habits. When did you first have sex with your father."
"Intercourse?" she asked. I nodded.
"I already told you last time," she said. "It was maybe five weeks after Daddy and I first exchanged orgasmic kisses to each other's crotch."
"How did that first instance of sexual intercourse occur?" I asked.
"Quickly," she replied. "My mother was right upstairs so we kind of had to rush things."
"It was in your home?" I asked.
"It certainly was," she said. "Daddy planked me right on the bed where he normally screws Mom."
"That didn't bother you?" I asked.
"Of course not," she said. "It made me feel good. We'd been wasting our time and energy for too long with this ridiculous mouth-to-cock and mouth-to-cunt stuff."
"You mean you began to not like it?" Tasked.
"I didn't say that at all," said Miss H. "What happened was that we both got tired of only doing orally what we really wanted to do geni-tally."
"I see," I said. "In other words you grew bored with oral techniques and-"
"Shit, doctor," snapped Miss H. quickly, "I don't know why you can't just cut the horseshit and stop talking in all that professional jargon."
"I'm not sure what's bothering you," I said.
"All that horseshit language of yours is bothering me," she said.
"I'm merely trying to lead to a better understanding of your condition," I said to her.
"You're trying to confuse me with a lot of bullshit language," she said. "Don't start talking in all these high-sounding terms about getting bored and all that. The fact is that Daddy and I wanted to jam our loins together. We wanted to fuck. Now what could be more clear than that?"
"Nothing," I said. "But why did you want to have sex?" I pressed with the patient.
"Why?" she asked, mocking my question. "Why does a rabbit eat a carrot? What a half-assed question!"
"You may not like the question," I said, "but I wish you'd answer it anyway."
"We fucked because we wanted to fuck," she said. "Daddy said that he wanted to feel his penis pressing against the delightfully soft inner folds of my vagina. And on my part, I wanted to feel that great big penis of his jammed into my hot little slot. So we fucked. We loved each other and we fucked."
"I see," I said.
"Do you?" she snapped. "At this point I don't think you see anything. I think you're the dumbest load this side of a pile of cow dung. That's what I think."
"You're welcome to your opinions, Miss H., "
I said to her. "But the fact is that it's you and not I who is in need of professional help."
"Oh, fuck," she said. "Here comes a wagon-load of bullshit. I can smell it already."
"You can already tell that you're not going to like what you're going to hear," I noted to Miss H. "Am I correct in that assumption?"
"You sure are," she said with an annoyed tone of voice. "It'll probably be the last time you're right all day."
"Your resentment against what I have to say, Miss H., " U remarked, "has a very simple basis."
"It does, huh?" she snickered.
"That's right," I said. "The basis is a defensive reaction."
"A defensive reaction to what?" she snapped.
"To the truth about your situation," I said. "You're essentially ashamed of what you've been doing. That's why you don't want to hear about it."
I told you the bullshit was on the way," she sighed.
"The fact is, Miss H., " I said, "that this is what any competent psychotherapist would tell you. You may like it or not like it, but there's very little that can be done to refute my analysis of the case."
"Bullshit," she grumbled. "Bullshit, horse-shit and cow-shit. I knew I should never have come here."
CONCLUSIONS ON CASE HISTORY ONE
Interestingly enough, this first case history can be analyzed both from the standpoint of behaviorists and the standpoint of Freudians.
To start with we should consider the theories of Dr. John B. Watson in Behaviorism when Watson considers his concept of effective stimulus.
Watson states that an effective stimulus is a stimulus which is strong enough to overcome normal response and resistance. In other words, most responses are learned and the product of conditioning. But despite how well certain human beings (or the human psyche) has been conditioned it is always possible that a new effective stimulus could overcome previously established resistance and move through to the psyche.
What Watson refers to as effective stimulus, however, is a stimulus which will have an immediate effect upon the person subjected to that stimulus. By immediate, Watson means immediate, happening as an almost instantaneous result.
Watson condemns the Freudian psychotherapists who maintain that a sensory impulse may be applied today and will take effect sometime in the distant future. Watson condemns this theory as nonsense and maintains that an effective stimulus must, by definition, produce an immediate effect upon the person subjected to that stimulus.
Freudians on the other hand would maintain that such an impulse registers on the subconscious and remains there. In Freud's famous work entitled Resistance and Repression, Freud explains that certain impulses which manage to slip past the learned resistance barriers to new stimuli and which are not repressed or suppressed by these resistance barriers often drift into the subconscious and become part of the person's psyche. The end result is clear.
The concept suggested by the stimulus drifts into the subconscious according to Freud and sits there latently until provoked in some other manner. (See also Dr. Martin T. Weltman's The Subconscious Human) In other words, the stimulus which has failed to become an effective stimulus in Watson's definition can become a very effective stimulus indeed within Freud's definition. In other words, according to Freud, the effect must not be immediate for the stimulus to be deemed effective.
During the American involvement in the Korean Conflict from 1951 to 1953 (See Psychological Warfare in Korea by Captain David G. Masterson) we were subjected to the sight of "brainwashed" soldiers who had been prisoners of war. These soldiers had been placed in situations where their minds had been "washed" clean of any previous knowledge. Then their reactions could be "primed" or "triggered" by a simple single stimulus, usually a single key word.
No one would doubt that such a stimulus was effective, but equally it would have to be admitted that the reaction was delayed. While not passing Watson's standards as an effective stimulus, such a primed word would definitely pass Freud's.
What does this discussion, tangential as it may seem, have to do with incest? More than initially might appear.
The fact of the matter is in case history one that the young woman involved, Miss H., was in an extremely vulnerable position sexually. Her affair with her steady boyfriend was leaving her sexually unsatisfied. Sexual satisfaction invariably breeds sexual experimentation. Thus Miss H. was in a position where she yearned to experiment.
This was coupled with her affection for her father. When she cared about him enough to want to perform oral sex on him, she placed herself in a position where-upon the mere sight and touch of his male organ--she was subjecting herself to a stimulus of the strongest sort; a stimulus which would have an effective reaction of both an immediate and delayed nature. The stimulus-which might be generally categorized as her father's virility-suggested to her that she have some sort of reciprocal sex with him immediately, which of course she did. But the stimulus also had its long range effect.
The immediate reaction was that Miss H. and her father had oral sex, successful oral sex at that, an act in which each led the other to climax. But similarly the seeds were planted for a long range sexual affair, one which sunk into Miss H.'s psyche as a conditioned reaction. In other words, when she eventually felt the urge for full sexual intercourse she would turn not to her boyfriend (who failed to satisfy her) but to her father, a male who seemed to be, in her words, "a more virile man."
One might do well to consider the experiments of Pavlov, the Russian behaviorist, on dogs. Dogs were trained in Pavlov's famous experiments to salivate when hearing their dinner bell. The exercise in training dogs to respond to a stimulus is the original experimental case in which motivation, conditioning and response became part of accepted psychological theory. The experiments now date back to the 1890's, Pavlov being a contemporary of Freud.
We can see, however, that Miss H. was conditioned greatly by the sexual stimuli offered to her by her father. Watson would have noted for us that Miss H. had been conditioned by the stimuli around her and-true to behaviorist theory-was a function of her personal experiences.
Yet similarly Freud would have contended that the desire to commit incest had been innate within Miss H. and had been primed by the stimuli which she'd been exposed to. Miss H., as a result of her conditioned responses, was subconsciously yearning for incest and thus incest occurred quite easily between her and her father.
The synthesis of ideas between Watson and Freud is then clearly explained and yet clearly delineated in this case history. Not all patients were involved in cases which can be explained by synthesizing the concepts of two schools of psychotherapy. The case of Mr. Herbert F., which follows, was one such case. The reader will perhaps be scandalized by the following involvement of a man with his daughter. But readers are to be reminded that tolerance and understanding are among our greatest human virtues.
CASE HISTORY TWO
Every man experiences temptation from time to time. The temptation may come in any form or shape, but often the temptation is sexual in nature. Such was the case of Mr. Herbert F., a used car salesman from Plymouth, Massachusetts. Mr. F. was unable to resist the temptation and ended up involved in a sexual affair with his daughter.
"How old are you, Mr. P.? " I asked the car salesman at the time of his initial visit to my offices. I was at that point looking over the pre-interview questionnaire which all patients must fill out. Mr. F., revealingly, had left blank the space in which he should have filled in his name.
"Do I have to answer that question?" he replied, glancing back at me as he lay on the red leather interviewing couch in my office.
I looked back at him and let my line of sight rise from those forms he'd filled out.
"Touchy about your age?" I asked.
He shrugged and remained silent.
"It's a yes or no question," I said to him. "I wish you'd answer. It's probably the easiest question that I'll be putting to you."
"I'm not touchy about it," he said. "There's nothing a man can do about his age."
"Then how old are you?" I asked.
"Forty-eight," he replied.
"And how old is your daughter?" I asked, glancing back down to that questionnaire.
"Sixteen," he replied.
'"Attractive?" I asked.
"Very," he said, a ring of authority in his voice.
"You've seen your sixteen year old daughter without her clothes on, I assume," I stated. "Am I correct?"
"You are," he said.
"In fact," I said to him, "you've been sleeping with her. That's the case, too, isn't it?"
"That's what I wrote down on those idiotic papers you handed me to fill out," he said. "What are you grilling me for when you have all the answers right in front of you?"
"I'm merely trying to discuss this problem with you, Mr. F., " I said to him. "You do want to discuss it, don't you? "
"Of course," he said.
"How many times have you had sex with your daughter?" I asked.
"I guess it's ... it's maybe about twenty times now," he said. "I don't keep a precise count."
"And how long has this been going on?" I asked. "Less than a year?"
"Quite a bit less than a year," he replied.
"How much less?"
"We've been fucking for almost a month," he said.
"I see," I said, looking up at him again and now getting an idea of the intensity of this sexual liaison. "In other words you've had sex about twenty times just in this one month? Is that correct? "
"It is," he said, pausing slightly and looking as if he wished to add something.
"Yes?" I asked. "Is there something more that you wanted to tell me?"
"Just.. . ?
"Yes?"
"I just wanted to say that you shouldn't blame me," he said quickly. "I ... I get so embarrassed about fucking my own daughter. But I'm not to blame. Honest. I'm not the one to blame for it."
"I see," I said. "I assume then that it's your daughter who's to blame."
"No," he said slowly. "It's not her, either." He then fell mysteriously silent.
"Is there a third person involved?" I asked pointedly.
"Oh, no, sir," said the used car salesman. "It's nothing dirty or perverse like that."
"Then who might be at fault?" I asked. "Surely someone must have been at the root of this affair at the beginning."
"I'm not so sure," he said.
"Could you explain that?" I asked.
"Sure," he said. "What I mean is that this whole thing just sort of happened between my daughter and me. No one really took the first step."
"Someone must have," I insisted. "Are you sure that you just don't want to own up to the guilt. Or perhaps you just don't want to assign guilt to your daughter. I'm sure she's a fine young lady and....""
"You misunderstand me, doctor," said Mr. F. "When I said that I can't be blamed for what's going on I meant something different than what you thought I meant."
"I see," I said. "What did you mean?"
"What I mean was that I can't be blamed for giving in. My daughter's body is ... well, it's simply the sexiest most wildly female thing I've ever seen in my life. What a pair of legs she has, doctor."
"I see," I said, taking notes quickly as Mr. F. spoke so enthusiastically about his sixteen-year-old daughter. "Is it just the legs?"
"like hell it's just the legs," he exclaimed. "What a pair of knockers she has! Huge soft breasts with lovely supple pink nipples and a gorgeous youthful uplift to those breasts. You don't understand, doctor; a man could give his left nut just to hold those tits in his mouth for a few minutes."
"Very interesting," I said. "Continue."
"Continue?" he said, repeating my words. "Well, hell. The cunt. I guess that's the most important part of any woman, isn't it? The cunt. The soft warm wet cunt!"
"Your daughter's is nice?" I asked.
"The nicest I've ever been in," he said.
"How many is that?" I asked.
"Maybe fifty," he said. "About forty before I was married and maybe ten since. Jenny's pussy is the nicest, softest, warmest and nicest tasting that I've ever been in."
"I see," I said.
"Her mother has a nice one, too," said Mr. F. "But her mother's snatch simply isn't as nice as it used to be. Jenny's pussy reminds me of the way her mother's pussy used to be. Back when her mother was younger."
"Interesting," I said.
"So what I mean is that I can't be blamed for giving in to temptation. Any man would have given in if he were in my position with my daughter."
"Don't you think some men might have stopped short of incestuous sexual intercourse?" I asked.
Mr. F. thought for a moment. "Maybe some prudes would have," he said. "Or some man who didn't have much in the way of manhood might have. But any man who was subjected to what I was subjected to couldn't have said no."
"What exactly were you subjected to?" I inquired.
Mr. F. thought for a second again before replying. It was as if he was formulating his reply.
"She offered herself to me," he said. "What?" I asked.
"She offered herself to me," he repeated. "She actually offered to let me fuck her."
"Your daughter?" I asked.
"Of course, my daughter!" he snapped. "Who the hell are we talking about, the Crown Princess of Prussia?"
"There's no need for sarcasm, Mr. F., " I said, "I'm merely making certain that I understand you completely."
"Understand?" he asked. "I'll tell you what I understood, doctor!"
Mr. F.'s voice now had risen in volume and was going at a higher pitch. He was quite agitated, obviously quite concerned with what he was about to reveal to me.
"She came to my automobile showroom and she wanted to be laid," he said. "That's exactly what happened. She came to me one day and she wanted me to slide my big hard organ into her hot little slot. So I did."
"Right then?" I asked.
"Right there," he revealed proudly. "In the back seat of one of the best used cars in the whole place. I balled her right on the spot."
"I see," I said. "Were there any other people in the showroom at the time?"
"None," he said.
"And you say that she came to you and told you that she wanted.. . , "
"-to be fucked," he said quickly, finishing my sentence for me."
"Can you give me the precise details?" I asked. "This is certainly intriguing."
"I'll give it to you exactly the way it happened," Mr. F. said to me. "It goes back about a month to this real hot day at the beginning of the summer."
"Please continue," I said to him. And Mr. F. told me this story of how he and his daughter began to have sex together....
. . . It was one of those god awful hot days about a month ago, doctor. It was one of those Saturdays when everyone gets to hell out of the city and heads for the beaches.
Well, on this particular day I was stuck at my used car dealership. I mean, someone has to mind the store while the customers might come in. So the two men who worked for me had the afternoon off and I was stuck there for the day.
Along about noon on that day I heard the door open to the inside showroom. I looked up. There was Jenny, that cute little dark-haired daughter of mine. She was wearing a tiny little pair of shorts and a little halter top which showed off the largeness and the shapeliness of her tits. I looked at her closely as she walked toward me. I eyed her long tan legs and the little wriggle that she had when she walked. For a few fleeting seconds I tried to imagine what she would look like naked.
"Jenny," I said to her. "What brings you down here on such a hot day?"
"You do, Daddy," she said to me, uttering a sexy little giggle as she spoke.
"Me?" I asked.
"That's right," she said. "It's so hot today that I came down here to see you."
I smiled. "You mean, you came down here to visit the air conditioning in the showroom."
"Not exactly," she said. "I came to see one of the cars."
I frowned, not really understanding what she was getting at. "I don't follow," I said.
"It's hot today, Daddy," she said, "and I just bought the tiniest little bikini I've ever seen in my life. I'm going to wear it to the beach and cool off that way."
"Oh," I said, still not completely understanding what she was getting at.
"To tell you the truth, Daddy," she said, "this little bikini is so tiny that it might also be a little too daring. Do you know what I mean?"
"I'm afraid I don't," I said.
She looked at me again and I could have sworn that she gave me a wink. She glanced away for an instant and I ran my eye down to her tits. I could see the hard little nipples beneath that halter top that she wore. Then for a split second I could feel my penis give a good firm twitch. I was really ashamed of myself, doctor, but I was getting hard over my own daughter.
"I'm wearing the tiniest little bikini I've ever seen," she explained, "and I'm wearing it under my clothes. I'm planning to go to the beach with it."
"Fine," I said, "but I don't understand why you came here first."
"I need a car," she said. "I need a car to get myself to the beach."
So that was it. She wanted me to give her or lend her a car so she could drive out to the beach. I took a second to think about it and then gave her my answer in no uncertain terms. It just couldn't be done.
"But, Daddy..." she implored. "You have to lend me a car. I have to get to the beach."
I shook my head. "I don't even know that you really have a new little bikini on for real," I said to her. "I haven't ever seen it."
She looked at me and gave her hips a little wriggle. Then she spoke.
"Okay, Daddy," she said to me. "If that's what you want to see, that's what I'll show you."
I didn't know what she meant. But she reached to her blouse, that little red halter blouse, and she unbuttoned it from the back. She pulled it forward over her arms and then yanked it off completely, tossing it across the showroom to where it landed on a car antenna.
She hadn't been kidding, of course. She was wearing a tiny little pink bikini top. It was so thin and so small that I was surprised that it was able to hold up and cover those ample breasts of hers. I could see that hard little pair of nipples naked beneath that bikini top.
"like the top half, Daddy?" she asked me as I stood there and gawked at her.
"Uh huh, I nodded stupidly. "Well," she said, "if you like the top, you'll love my scanty little bottom."
She unbuttoned her little shorts at the waist and she let them drop. Down they came, dropping all the way to the floor where she flicked them off her ankles and stepped out of them as I stood there and watched breathlessly.
I admired those long tan legs of hers, those trim legs that curved upwards past those gorgeous thighs where the fine little white hairs on her legs disappeared under that scanty triangle of cloth that formed the bikini bottom.
"like it, Daddy?" she asked.
I grunted, indicating that, yes, I did like it. She gave me a little giggle in return.
Then she turned around. "Look at this," she said, indicating the cleavage of her ass that was revealed. "Almost a full half of the crack of my ass is showing. This sure is going to be a popular outfit at the beach."
"Yeah," I commented. "I guess the guys on the beach will like it."
But my heart wasn't really in what I was saying, doctor. I was marveling at that tiny little suit and I was studying all those marvelous features of my teenage daughter. What a body, doctor. It was the type of body that could do fabulous things for a man's penis. A man could have a huge orgasm between those legs or between those tits. Or he could have one up that fair little ass or inside her warm little mouth. I was surely ashamed to find myself entertaining such thoughts, doctor. After all, she was my own daughter.
"Then you'll lend me a car so that I can get to the beach? " she asked hopefully.
"I'll what?" I asked. She'd asked me off guard while I was still studying her body.
"Lend me a car so that I can get to the beach?" she asked hopefully again.
I shook my head and tried to ignore that body. "No," I said again. "It can't be done."
She looked me up and down and gave me a sly smile. Then she snuggled right up to me again, letting me look directly downward into the huge gap between her two tits.
"Daddy," she said next, "do you know what one of the real problems is with this bathing suit?"
I gulped and asked what it was. "Look," she said.
She pointed to the area between her legs. The little patch of cloth that was supposed to cover her pussy wasn't doing its job very well. Little pussy hairs were spilling out of it.
"People can see part of my muff," she said, pointing to the way that her pussy overflowed from beneath her bikini. "How do you like that, my pussy is exposed to the public."
"I ... I guess you shouldn't wear something like that," I said to her.
She giggled and shook her head. "Daddy, you old Devil, you," she chided. "You just want to see my little bare bottom."
"No!" I said. "That's not what I meant."
"Sure, it is," she said. "You told me that I should take my bikini bottom off."
"I just said that I didn't think you should wear it," I said.
"Same thing," she said, reaching for the little snap on the side of the suit, the snap which would have let the bottom of the suit come undone and then fall off. "You want to see my little bare bottom. Admit it, Daddy. Admit it and I'll give you a free peep at my pussy."
"No!" I shouted again, looking all around to make sure that, no one was coming into the showroom.
"You don't want to see it?" she asked, a hurt expression creeping across her face.
"No," I said again. I was holding her hand to keep her from baring her pussy. .But all that time I could feel the softness of her flesh. My penis was going wild in my pants. It wanted to come so badly that it hurt. And I knew where my penis wanted to come. It wanted to shoot its load down there inside my daughter's warm little inviting cunt.
Tears began to form in her eyes. Incredibly, she began to cry.
"Now what?" I exclaimed. "What's wrong?"
"You're a beast," she sobbed. "You've insulted me like I've never been insulted before."
"I ... I ... what?"
"You're a big male beast," she said. "I'm leaving. I don't want to talk to you any more, Daddy!"
"I don't understand," I said. And that was the truth. I didn't.
She explained. She said it was the greatest of all insults when a girl wanted to show her nice pussy to a man and the man refused. She said that a girl's greatest gift was the gift of her pussy. And when a man refused to even look at it she said it was a terrible insult.
"But I'm your father," I protested. "I can't look at your pussy. It wouldn't be right."
She started to cry all the more. Then she started to scream. It was so loud that I was fairly scared that she was going to draw a crowd of people into my showroom-not to buy cars, but to investigate that awful screaming. I had to do something to shut her up, doctor, and there was really only one thing which would accomplish that.
I had to look at her pussy. I had to admire it and tell her how nice it was. And then I was going to have to get her out of my showroom someway before she caused me even more trouble than she'd already caused.
"All right," I said. "I'll look at it. I didn't mean to turn you down."
She kissed me on the cheek. "I knew you didn't mean to hurt my feelings, Daddy," she said. "I guess you're still a little old fashioned and didn't realize how important it is to look at a pussy when it's offered to you."
"I guess so," I said.
She reached down to her bikini bottom and started to unsnap it. Right there. Right out in the middle of my showroom. Could you imagine, doctor, if someone had walked in and had seen that going on?
"No!" I exclaimed.
Her eyes started to fill with tears again. I had to think of something quick.
"Not here," she heard me say. "Not right out in public. In a car. Here."
I led her to the closest car, a big old luxury sedan with a lot of room in the backseat. "Come on in here," I said to her. "This will be much better."
"Oh, Daddy," she giggled, "I didn't think that was what you wanted."
"What?" I asked, mystified again.
"The back seat," she said. "I know what you want to do in the back seat."
"You do?" I asked.
"Sure," she said. "Don't you think I've been in back seats with men before? I know what always happens when I get into a back seat with a man."
"What happens?" I asked.
"Something big pops up," she giggled. "And then that something big get slipped into my pussy."
"Well, there'll be none of that," I snapped. "Not between me and my own girl."
"Oh, Daddy," she cooed. "You can be so cute. That's what all men say when they lead girls to a back seat."
She cuddled up to me and pressed those magnificent big daughterly boobs up against me.
"Don't worry, Daddy," she said to me. "I know what you really want before you let me borrow a car. And I'll see that you get what you want."
Well, my little daughter had me so off balance by now that I really didn't know what to say to stop her. I climbed into the back seat of that car with her. I knew how hard my penis was and I was trying to hide that big erection. It just didn't seem right to be so big and so hard over one's own daughter. It didn't seem right, but that's what was happening.
I sat in the back seat of that car with her and again I looked around to see if anyone else had walked into the showroom. I would have hated to have been discovered at that point. Then I looked back to my daughter. My eyes nearly popped out of my head and my prick nearly popped out of my pants.
She had the top of her bathing suit off, doctor. She was completely bare at the breasts. I'd never seen such a fantastic pair of young tits in my life. They were large with wonderful pink nipples. And they were uplifted with a breathtaking curve. Fantastic tits, doctor. Utterly fantastic!
"Want to touch them, Daddy?" she asked me. "I know you like them."
"How ... How can you tell?" I gasped. I hated the way she was reading my mind so well.
"Two ways, Daddy," she said as she guided my hands up to her tits and placed each palm against one of her perfect hard nipples.
"I can tell by the way your eyes are popping out", she said as I started to pump my hands and milk those gorgeous big breasts.
"And I can tell the way your penis is standing up, Daddy," she added. "No man has a dick standing up like that unless he-likes what he sees."
"But.. . ? " I started to say.
"Don't try to give me any excuses, Daddy," she said to me. "I'm taking off the bottom of my bathing suit. Then we can take your penis out!"
"But ... but.. . " I couldn't stop stammering, doctor. I was acting completely like a fool. I was being completely passive and was allowing her to call all the shots with this strange afternoon encounter. But what could I do? My hands were pressing against two of the nicest tits that I'd felt in my life. I couldn't take my hands or eyes off them.
Jenny was doing all the taking off, though, doctor. She reached down to that tiny little bikini bottom and she unsnapped the side catch. Off it came. She pulled it off her little bottom and she revealed for me a dainty little triangle of pubic hair, a charming little muff that covered her vaginal crack. Again, I couldn't take my eyes off it.
"Oh, Daddy," she cooed to me. "I'm so proud. I'm so very proud right now."
"Proud of what?" I asked, still not knowing what had occasioned this whole encounter.
"I can tell that you like what you see," she said. "And I'm so proud that I'm pleasing to you. After all, a daughter should always be pleasing to her father."
"But Daddy has to please his little girl in return," she continued merrily. "That's why Daddy has to stick his finger in my cunt now."
"My finger.. . ? "
"In my cunt!" she exclaimed. "Here, Daddy. Do it just like I show you."
She grabbed my hand and pushed it from her right tit down to her pussy area. Here we were, father and daughter, having a passionate fling in the back seat of a car in an auto showroom. She shoved my hand toward her muff and my forefinger found its way through her vaginal crack.
"That's my clitoris," she cooed as she pushed my hand to her clit. "Rub it, Daddy. That'll really turn my pussy on if you give me a good rubbing down there."
I started to massage her clitoris softly and gently. I could feel the juice building in her pussy as I rubbed her magic little button. She swayed her hips back and forth as I rubbed and she started to coo little sighs of contentment. I knew I was doing things right.
"Oh, Daddy," she cooed to me, "that's just how I like it. That's just exactly how I like it!"
What could I do, doctor. She was tempting me more than any man should ever have to be tempted. I continued playing on one nipple while I massaged her clitoris with the other hand. That's when she unzipped my fly and helped my big hard penis spring out of my pants.
She took my tool out and she started to massage up and down on it with her hand. I could feel the sperm building up down there in my tool and I just kept wishing that I'd come to relieve that incredible feeling down there, that feeling of urgency and of wanting to come.
"Daddy's big and hard," she said to me. "That mean's Daddy wants something."
"Huh?" I grunted.
"Daddy wants to come," she said.
"Yeah," I said. There was no way I could resist any more. There was no possible way I could stop now.
"I'm going to give Daddy one of the best comes he's ever had," she said to me.
"Yeah?" I asked.
"Yeah, Daddy," she giggled. She leaned over and licked my penis as she held it between her thumb and forefinger. I nearly shot my seeds into her mouth. A man of less willpower surely would have come right then.
"In your cunt?" I asked. "Can I come in your cunt?" I begged her.
"Of course, daddy," she said. "A girl who withholds cunt pleasure from her favorite man would have to be some sort of lesbian. I never withhold cunt pleasure from any man I like."
"I'm going to fuck you?" I asked her, knowing exactly that that was what I was going to do.
"Of course, Daddy," she said. "I'm going to take a squat on your penis."
And then it happened, doctor. I fucked my own daughter right there in the back seat of that used car. Right there in the showroom on Standish Avenus in Plymouth. I never thought anything like that would happen to me, but it sure did on that afternoon. And that's the Gospel truth, too.
I sat on the back seat of that car and Jenny pulled down my pants. My prong was sticking up like a car antenna. My dear little daughter took it between her breasts and toyed with it there. Then she leaned over it and took it into her mouth for a final time.
Jenny sucked on her father's penis and worked her mouth up and down the long shaft. She would suck on the end and rasp her tongue over the sensitive spot on the tip of the penis. Then she would glide her lips relentlessly up and down the long penis shaft. She was driving me insane, doctor. This was more lip service than I'd had for years. I was fingering her clitoris the entire time, too.
Then she slung one leg over my body and worked her way into a position that straddled me. Her bare wet cunt hovered a few inches above my erect rod as she positioned herself in the back seat of that car with me.
"I've always wanted to meet my Daddy's big penis," she said to me just before I penetrated her.
"You have?" I asked.
"I have," she cooed. "I came out of that penis," she said to me. "It was that penis that created me."
"It was," I agreed.
"I always wanted to see where I came from," she said. "And now I want to sit down on that big tool."
With those words she lowered her cunt downward, doctor. I felt the wet warmth on my penis and then I felt my prong gradually sliding into that slick box of hers. It slid in several inches in one thrust. Then she started to rotate those warm wet rhythming pussy walls against my prick. And the penis slid the rest of the way into her.
"Pump, Daddy," she exclaimed. "Pump like you've never pumped before!"
I started to give her what she wanted. I held my hands firmly on her hips as I thrust my penis relentlessly upward and back in and out of her box.
"That's it, Daddy," she exclaimed. "Keep that powerful tool going down there!"
She undulated the walls of her young pussy against my huge whang and she bounced relentlessly up and down on my tool. Over and over I thrust my penis upwards into my daughter's warm spasming slot. I could feel the way she was orgasming. I moved my hands from her soft bare hips up to her hard little nipples. And I pressed my palms hard against those rock-hard pink nipples. I held on with all my strength.
"Orgasm, Daddy," she cooed. "I'm in the middle of an orgasm!"
"Are you?" I grunted.
"A big one," she snapped back. "A real big one."
She pumped up and down and throbbed all over my penis. I grunted ad pumped upward, feeling all that jaice gathering in my penis and getting ready for a big burst. I pumped madly and heard Jenny moan with delight.
"Come," she cooed at me. "Come. Come. Come!"
It wasn't that I had to obey, her, doctor, it simply was that I couldn't help myself from coming. The girl had conquered my resistance completely. The juice that had gathered in my penis started to jet loose. There wasn't anything I could do to stop it. Nothing at all.
My penis spasmed and burst forth with several tremendous long shots of gob. I could feel my dick spasm with a torrent of come. Gob after gob exploded upwards into her vagina, spasming and spitting as far up her cunt as I could possibly imagine. And I simply wouldn't stop coming.
"Oh, Daddy!" she squealed. "What pecker! I feel like I'm sitting on a hot garden hose!"
I kept pumping and said nothing. The feeling from that orgasm was cutting right through me. I'd never had an orgasm like the one my daughter was giving me.
"I feel like I'm sitting on a geyser," she blurted out next. "What a cock! What a cock!"
I pumped for as long as I could, doctor. I throbbed my penis up into my daughter's snatch for as long as I could and I got off a final long spurt of come. I drained my balls of every drop of sperm that I could possibly muster. And then the penis went completely flat. I'd fully shot my wad, doctor, and my flaccid dick slid slowly out of her.
She dismounted and held her vagina above my dick for a few seconds. I was still panting for breath.
"What are you doing?" I asked.
"I'm about to give you something back," she said to me. I watched her carefully.
"Something back?" I asked.
"Yup," she said. "Watch."
I watched. I watched her vagina as all the come I'd spurted off dribbled down and out of her slot. It came sliding out in one big heap and dropped all the way down back onto my penis. I looked at it as it slid around my balls.
"I'm finished with your sperm," she said. "You can have it back now."
"Thanks," I grunted.
"There's just one thing more I want," she said to me. I eyed that majestic young body with the fantastic tits, the lovely legs and the ever-so-comfortable cunt.
"What is it?" I asked her. "After that screw you can have anything you want."
"Promise?" she asked.
"Of course," I said.
"Good," she said. "I'm taking a car."
She hopped up and began to put on her bathing suit as a little bit of sperm ran out of her vagina and down her leg. There was no way I could protest any more. Not after that incredible fuck that my daughter had just given me.
Then she spoke again. "There's just one other thing I want to know," she said. "And I certainly hope Daddy knows the answer."
"What is it?" I asked, ready for anything by this point in the afternoon.
"Who's that woman who's been watching us?" she asked with a sly giggle.
I bolted upright almost as fast as my penis had popped up to an erection a short time earlier.
"Who? Where?" I asked, reaching down and trying to cover my wet sticky balls.
"Right there," said Jenny calmly. And she motioned to an older gray-haired woman in a green hat. The woman was standing near the entrance to the showroom. She had evidently been standing there for some time. She had probably seen everything.
"I ... I. ... " I started to stammer. "Madam! I. ... "
But the woman turned and hustled out of the showroom, leaving me with my pants down, my face red and my daughter bare-assed.
"This city is full of perverts," my daughter said to me bitterly. "Imagine. A voyeur in the middle of the afternoon. Disgusting, Daddy. That's really disgusting. That woman should really be ashamed of herself."
I said nothing further, doctor. I just sat there with my pants down in the comfortable back seat of that car. I was trying to figure out whether this whole thing was really happening or whether I was imagining it all.
I remained silent. Jenny dressed and took a car from the showroom, a car which she brought back a day later. I found used rubbers all over the car after she returned it. So I knew my daughter had had a good time at the beach.
But for that afternoon I remained silent. I actually dozed off after that vigorous fuck and didn't wake up until the night watchman came to work that evening and found me in the back seat of that car with my pants still down.
He shook me on the shoulder to wake me up.
"Rough day, boss?" he asked me. And then a dirty smile crossed his face as he began to laugh. I didn't face anything to him. After all he'd caught me with my pants down. I merely pulled them up, hid my red face and went on home. What could I do, doctor, it was nothing short of the most incredible day of my life. After all, how many men ever have a day when their beautiful daughter sits on their penis in the back seat of a good used car? Just answer me that, doctor....
...."That's not really the type of thing I'm prepared to answer, Mr. F., " I said to my patient as he brought that interview session to a close. I glanced at my watch and saw that we'd run over our allotted time.
"But isn't it an incredible thing to happen, doctor?" he asked. "Doesn't it border on the incredible?"
"Uncommon," I admitted, "but not incredible. Morals have changed considerably since we were young, Mr. F. You'd be surprised how many young girls these days, girls such as your daughter, involve themselves in odd sexual experimentation with either fathers or uncles."
"Really?" he asked incredulously. "But why would they do such a thing. I mean, incest is ... let's face it, it's pretty immoral, isn't it?"
"Many young people don't think so," I replied. "To the young, incest can be just another form of youthful experimentation with their bodies."
"Amazing," sighed Mr. F., lighting a cigar and reflecting upon my words. "Things have changed considerably since I was a boy. That's for sure."
"like it or not, Mr. F., " I said to him. "The world continues to spin. The best we can do is adapt ourselves to new situations and try to keep pace with the times."
"But incest, doctor?" he asked. "Is something as immoral as incest actually becoming in fashion?"
"It may well be, Mr. F., " I said, "because there's an awful lot of it being reported these days."
He shook his head again, pondering the situation before he spoke again.
"Well then," he finally said, "I guess that puts me right current with the times."
"What exactly do you mean by that?" I asked.
"You say a lot of it's fashionable and a lot of it's being committed," he said. Then he actually smiled. "Well, I must be a real fashionable used car dealer because I sure have committed a lot of it in the last month."
"I know, Mr. F., " I said as I nodded. "And I'd like to discuss it further with you at our next meeting."
* * *
I concluded my initial interview with Mr. F. and asked him to return again within a week to discuss his incestuous sexual behavior at a greater length. It was clear that Mr. F. and I had a lot to discuss:
"Mr. F., " I said to him as he assumed a position on my interviewing couch, "if I recall correctly you stated that you'd had sex with your daughter at least twenty times."
"That's what I said," he replied. "But that figure isn't right any more."
"It's not?" I asked.
"I'd say that the correct number would be closer to thirty now," he said.
"I see," I said, looking up at Mr. F. and maintaining a silence. I hoped that my silence would spur him on to speaking at greater detail.
He assumed a coy smile on his face. He looked back to me slowly.
"I guess you know how it is, doctor," he said to me as he looked over his shoulder.
"I'm not sure that I do," I said. "What exactly do you mean by what you said?"
"A week has gone by," he said. "Jenny and I have had sex maybe ten more times."
"I see," I said. "In a week?"
"I know," he said. "I know what you're thinking. You think that that's a lot."
"I'd say that it is," I agreed.
"I suppose you're right," he said. "Ten times in a week is a lot to fuck a daughter, particularly when you have to service the wife at least half that many times."
"Apparently you stay quite active sexually," I said to my patient.
"I try to," he said. "It keeps a man from getting old too soon. You know what I mean, I guess."
I noted Mr. F.'s allusion to his age again and I made a written note on the note pad on my lap. Then I looked back to the patient.
"How do you manage it so many times?" I asked him.
"You mean with both of them?" he replied. "It's not hard with Jenny, but working up an erection over my wife can be real torture these days."
"That's not exactly what I meant," I explained. "What I'm curious about is how, while you're living with your wife, you find so many chances to have sex with your daughter without being caught by your wife?"
"Oh, that?" he said. "That can be a pain in the ass. But as long as you've asked me about it I might as well explain."
"I wish you would," I said. "Don't you ever worry about getting caught by your wife?"
"All the time," he replied. "But the fact is that Jenny and I work quickly."
"Quickly?" I asked. "Is that fair?"
"Fair for who?" he asked.
"For either of you?" I answered.
"Why not?" he asked. "We fuck quickly and grab quick fucks whenever we can. Some times we do it practically right underneath my wife's nose."
"And she hasn't figured it out?" I asked.
"Not yet," said Mr. F. "And I doubt if she will either. Just because Jenny and I get a lot of quickies on the sly it doesn't mean that we're not careful about it."
"I see," I said, "in other words you both can get excited enough so that prolonged sexual intercourse isn't necessary to attain orgasm."
"Exactly, doctor," he said. "You've said it all with that."
"I see," I said, making a few mental notes as I jotted a few other notes onto my note pad.
"Does this make sense to you?" asked Mr. F. as I remained silent.
"It does," I said to him. "But I'd like to hear exactly how these 'quickies' work."
"In other words," said Mr. F., "you'd like me to describe a sample fuck for you."
"I'd be interested in hearing about that," I affirmed. "Please tell me about the most recent time you and your daughter had sex."
"I'd be glad to," he said.
"When was it?" I asked as I tried to lead the patient smoothly to that subject.
"To tell you the truth," he said, "it was just this morning. My penis is still all encrusted from it."
"I see," I said. "Didn't you have time to wash before coming over here?"
"I had plenty of time to wash," he said flatly. I waited for him to add to that statement, but Mr. F. said nothing further while I waited.
"Then why didn't you wash?" I asked.
"I don't like to," he said. "It's just a personal habit, but I don't like to wash after fucking. I like to have my penis in the same state that it exited from the pussy."
"Why is that?" I asked.
"It reminds me all day of the way I've been laid," he said. "It's refreshing to be able to think back on a screw from that same day."
"Mr. F., " I said, "I think we're getting a bit far from the actual subject. I believe you were at the point of telling me about the sex you'd had this morning."
"That's right," he said.
"You may begin any time you'd like to," I said to Mr. F. as he made himself comfortable on my interviewing couch. "I'm listening whenever you're ready."
Mr. F. fidgeted for a moment and then told me this story of how he'd most recently had sex with his daughter....
. . . It happened at about ten o'clock this morning, doctor. I was sitting at the breakfast table and I noticed that Jenny hadn't come down to breakfast yet. I turned to my wife and asked where she was.
"Upstairs and in bed," said my wife. "She hasn't gotten up yet for the day."
Well, doctor, that set me to thinking. I knew a secret about my daughter. It was something that even my wife, Jenny's mother, didn't know. Jenny was in the habit of sleeping in the nude. You know what that meant.
That meant that if she was upstairs in bed she was upstairs nude in bed. I could just picture that fantastic bare body between the sheets. I pictured myself lying on top of her and jamming my long penis into her hot little snatch. I though about all this for a few minutes as I sipped on a second cup of hot coffee.
"It's getting kind of late to be sleeping, isn't it?" I asked my wife.
"Why?" she answered. "Do you want to go upstairs and wake Jenny up?"
"Maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea," I said. "Why don't I go upstairs and get her up for the day?" I finished my coffee and stood up.
Well, doctor, it was just a good thing that my wife wasn't looking at me as I stood up. You see it wasn't just Jenny that I was getting up for the day: my penis was hard, too. Rock hard, in fact. Rock hard and ready for action.
I wished I had a nice pair of baggy pants on so that I could have hidden that rod. But instead I managed to get out of the kitchen in a hurry before my wife could notice that rod. Then I was on my way up the stairs to where Jenny was. I opened the door to her room and looked in.
There she was, lying still in her bed. I entered the room and closed the door behind me.
I was careful to make no noise. I walked right over to her bed and looked at her. Yes, doctor, she was nude just beneath one thin white sheet. I reached down to that sheet and I slowly pulled it down and off her fair young body.
Doctor, I can't describe how beautiful my daughter's body is or how much it pleases me. I took a look at it, long and fair and beautifully tanned. The little pink nipples were hard as she slept, hard on those soft white breasts which were never exposed to the sun.
I glanced downward toward her pussy area. I saw her firm flat stomach and the little area of white around her crotch, that patch of skin which, like the breasts, never was seen by the sun.
I studied her body for a few moments. Then I leaned down and planted a great big kiss on Jenny's left nipple. I figured that a kiss in that strategic spot would be enough to wake her up. I was right.
She opened her eyes and found herself lying there naked and staring up at me. She opened her mouth as if to give me a little squeal of delight.
"Daddy! What the-"
I held up one finger to my mouth and held my other hand to her mouth, trying to keep her silent.
"Daddy? I don't understand," she finally whispered to me. But when she glanced down at my crotch and saw the big erect tool I had standing up down there she began to understand. She looked back up at me and she smiled.
"Daddy?" she asked. "Is it time to fuck? Is Mom out of the house?"
"Mom's down stairs," I said to my daughter, "but she won't be coming upstairs for a while. We have a couple of minutes here to get in a good screw."
"Just the two of us, Daddy?" she asked, giving me a little giggle.
"How many does it take?" I answered. "Of course it's just the two of us."
"Good," she said as she opened her legs and showed me the pink inner lips of her little daughterly pussy. "That's just the kind of numbers I like."
She started to undulate her hips and I looked at that little triangle of pussy hair as she undulated.
"Come on, Daddy," she cooed. "Climb aboard for a quickie if Mom isn't going to come upstairs."
"Are you sure you're ready for it?" I asked.
"You know me, Daddy," she said to me. "Each morning I wake up with that special itch down inside my pussy. It's the itch of desire."
"I know it well," I said.
"If you don't climb on top of me and help me satisfy it," she said, "I'll have to go to the bathroom and dildo myself until I have my pleasure. So get moving, Daddy!"
She held those legs apart and kept her pussy spread wide open. I took down my pants all the way to my ankles, doctor, and I kept my shirt on. My daughter thinks it's sexy when a man can't undress completely to have sex. And besides, if I heard my wife coming upstairs suddenly I'd almost be able to dismount my daughter and get my pants up in time.
I climbed on top of her and moved right into place on her. I held my rigid prong straight out forward and I pokes it between the outer lips of her cunt.
"Ooooh," she cooed. "Daddy sure is hard this morning!"
"Just like every morning," I said.
"If Daddy's hard every morning," she said, "we can make this a regular thing."
I moved my penis into place and I pushed it. I could feel the long shaft pushing into her. I felt the wet warmth of my daughter's pussy against my penis. I gave it a firm hard shove and I could feel the big long head slide all the way down into her.
"Let's go, Daddy," she cooed. "Pump. Give it a good hard pump!"
I started to rhythm my penis briskly back and forth within that slot of hers. Over and over I stroked it as she arched her ass and wrapped her long tan legs around my trunk. I could feel the wetness and the excitement of her vaginal walls all over my prick. I pumped wildly into her as she arched her back and pumped upwards at me. Stroke after stroke after stroke, doctor. That's what it was.
"Oh, Daddy!" she whined as I powered that tool of mine into her cunt. "You're dick is as hard as one of the stick shifts from your used cars!"
"Stick shifts?" I thought. My daughter had been sitting on some of the stick shifts, otherwise she wouldn't have been making a comment like that. But the mere mention of the stick shifts like that gave me a whole different idea about fucking her. A whole different idea, indeed.
I moved my penis into first gear, pumping slowly and working up the friction against those wet pussy walls of hers.
"like this?" I asked my daughter as Jenny clutched my back and savored the slow sensuality with which I was pumping. "This is first gear," I informed her.
"First gear?" she asked.
"Yup!" I said, continuing that slow throbbing pumping motion that was driving her crazy.
"Oh, shit, Daddy," she yelped. "Shift to second! Shift to second before you strip my gearbox!"
The shift to second was instantaneous, doctor. I started to pump faster, increasing the acceleration as I stepped on the gas pedal. No energy crisis here, doctor, as I throbbed my dick faster into her slot.
"Third gear!" she insisted. "I'm going to orgasm. Step on the gas and give me third!"
I gave her third, all right, doctor, and I gave it to her hard right in the cunt. I was working up some good speed now and I could even feel the come brewing down there in my own gas tank, my balls.
"Coming!" she snapped. "I'm coming!"
She sure was. Her vaginal walls were spasming and her arched back was pumping and pointing her pussy upwards against my dick. She was going crazy with desire and I knew I could do one more shift of gears before my own tank exploded with a big orgasmic blast.
"What a cocksman!" my daughter exclaimed. "Let me feel your overdrive!"
I shifted to fourth, doctor, and I really let that girl have it. I battered her pussy with the fastest bit of acceleration I've ever been able to muster.
Over and over and over I pumped, doctor, constantly driving that penis down and back into her as I switched into my most powerful gear of all: fourth.
"Oh, balls!" she exclaimed. "You wouldn't believe the way I'm coming!"
She sure was. She kept spasming those vaginal walls against my prick until I simply couldn't stand it any more. I held my dick down there in her as long as I could. But I knew that my tank was going to boil over soon, jso I increased the speed and didn't touch the brakes.
"Here comes the crash!" I said. "You're going to feel it now!"
I gave her a few more strokes. Then my penis erupted with a huge long gushing come, a come that shot my hot seeds all over her pussy. I just couldn't stop coming, doctor. The seeds just kept flowing out of my dick. I must have shot off twelve or thirteen long hot gushes of come before my penis wilted and went still. But it wasn't just my dick that was in overdrive.
Her cunt was working overtime, too. Her pussy was squeezing and pumping as if there was no tomorrow. It ground upwards against my dick and pumped out of me my last drop of come. I pressed my dick down into her for a final time as it went limp. Then I heard my daughter give out with a long low grunt of satisfaction as I wriggled away from her and withdrew my penis.
"Oh, balls," she cooed as I withdrew and hurriedly rolled away from her. I had to get my pants back up so that I could be presentable to my wife. "Oh, balls, almighty, Daddy," Jenny cooed. "That sure was a good one!" .
"Glad you liked it," I grunted. I was pushing my sticky cock back into my pants and tucking in the tails of my shirt. I tried to straighten my hair, too.
"What a cocksman, Daddy," she cooed. She was lying there completely nude, doctor. She hoisted herself up on her elbows a little and I saw a bit of my sperm run down and out of her large wet vagina.
"Can we do it again later?" she asked. "A quickie on the fly?" she begged.
"Maybe this evening," I said, "after your mother goes to bed."
"Why not later this morning?" she asked.
"I have to go see that psycho-sexual researcher," I explained. "I'm due there in two hours. Remember?"
"Are you telling him about us?" she asked.
I just kind of shrugged and escaped through a lie, doctor. I told her that I was telling you about all sorts of things. I didn't say that it was just because of this incest thing that I'd begun to talk to you.
Then I heard my wife coming up the stairs so I hurriedly walked out of my daughter's room while little Jenny scurried around and put her clothes on. On my way out of her room I ran smack into my wife.
"Is she okay?" she asked.
"Why wouldn't she be?" I asked.
"I don't know," said my wife. "What took you so long?"
"I don't know," I said, shrugging again and trying to assume a look of innocence. "Sometimes Jenny takes some time to respond."
"Respond?" she asked, her eyebrows arching upwards. I'd slipped terribly and my wife had caught me, Now I had to hide what I meant.
"Respond?" she repeated.
"Sure," I said. "Wake up. You know? Respond to being wakened up."
"Oh," she said.
"What did you think I meant?" I asked.
"My wife merely shook her head and looked at me strangely.
"Oh, I didn't know," she said. "Sometimes ... well, dear, sometimes if. I didn't know better I'd think you were fucking that daughter of ours."
"Dear!" I snapped quickly to admonish her. "That's a terribly crude thing to say!"
"I know it is," she said, vanishing down the stairs again. "I shouldn't have said it. I'm sorry. Rut sometimes strange thoughts pop through my head."
I just sort of laughed nervously and let the whole thing go at that. And that's how it ended, doctor. My most recent fuck with my daughter. Just a few hours ago this morning. ...
. . . "I see," I said, listening intently to Mr. F. as he concluded his story. "And do you intend to make good on your promise? "
"Which promise is that?" he asked.
"You said something to your daughter about making love with her again tonight," I reminded him. "Was that just idle chatter or do you intend to do it?"
"That depends," he said.
"On what?" I asked.
"Well, my wife has to be sleeping soundly or it's just too risky," Mr. F. said. "Or if my wife wants me to make love to her just before I want to ball Jenny, well, I'm not a sperm factory, doctor. It can present problems."
"I'm sure it can, Mr. F., " I said, preparing to make a statement that I knew would alienate my patient. But I had to say what I was about to say. I felt sure that I was moving in on Mr. F.'s problem. I knew his response to my next statement would indicate whether or not I was on the right track. As it turned out, I most certainly was.
"I'm sure it can present a problem, Mr. F., " I said to him. "A man of your age and physicality would probably have a lot of trouble coming three times within twelve hours."
Mr. F. responded exactly how I thought he would. His face grew beet red and he took adamant exception to my statement about his physique and prowess.
"Hey! What the fuck are you talking about?" he bellowed. "That sure was a shot to the balls now, wasn't it?"
"Please relax, Mr. F., " I said calmly.
"How the fuck can a guy relax after a quick kick to the nuts like that? My age? My physique? What the fuck do you think you're talking about? I'm in better hape than any other used car dealer on the East Coast. And don't you forget it!"
Mr. F., as I'd expected, was furious. He was sitting up on the interviewing couch now and facing me. His face was the color of ketchup. I noted that Mr. F. should probably have his blood pressure checked by a family doctor.
"But a man of your age, Mr. F., " I suggested. "A man of your age should be careful in sex."
Now the patient was genuinely furious, almost of the brink of losing all self-control.
"I don't have to be careful about anything," Mr. F. ranted. "I'm as fit as I ever was. Just because I'm almost fifty, people think I'm over the hill. Well, I'm not. I can fuck with the young girls and it doesn't leave anything o be desired. Absolutely, nothing, understand that?"
"I understand quite well," I said calmly to Mr. F., attempting to pacify him again.
"Good," he snapped. "It's about time you understood something. I've done all the talking. Now you can do some of the understanding."
"What I understand, Mr. F., " I said to him, "is the basis of your incestuous behavior."
"What are you talking about?" he asked.
"I'm talking about you, your incest and your age," I said with as much understanding as possible.
"Look!" he snapped quickly. "If you're going to try to tell me that everything is wrong with me because of my age, I'm not going to sit hear and listen to-"
"Relax, Mr. F., " I said to him. "All I'm going to do is explain your acts in light of your age. There's nothing so wrong with that. I'm older than you are and I'm not worried about explaining my own actions in light of my age."
Mr. F. was silent and I was able to move toward my summation of Mr. F.'s case.
CONCLUSIONS ON CASE HISTORY TWO.
It is important in the case of Mr. Herbert F. to review two important works by Sigmund Freud. One should be familiar first with Freud's The Analytic Theory and then second with his equally important work entitled Anxiety.
The theories of the analytic form of psychotherapy and the theory of free-floating anxiety will form the crux of the analysis of this case. Those interested in why Mr. F. constantly sought to have quick sessions of sex with his daughter will wish to familiarize themselves thoroughly with these psychological concepts.
In Freud's The Analytic Theory Freud explains how modern psychoanalytical therapy is essentially founded upon transference, that is, upon the suggestion of one idea which transfers that particular suggestion to another. In other words, as we have seen in Case History One, an idea need not be stated to be conveyed. It can merely be transferred by one word which actually suggests and links its meaning to another word.
Let us hold that thought for a moment. We will return to it at the proper time. We should now consider the Freudian concept of free-floating anxiety and the way it pertains to the case of Mr. F.
In his research work entitled Anxiety, Freud considers this concept of free-floating anxiety. To define our terms a bit, we might simply begin by stating that anxiety is loosely considered to be a state of anxious expectation, a state where a person feels that something (good or bad) might be imminent.
There are, of course, many different types of anxiety. (See L.L. Bathgate's The Development of Stress and Anxiety in Modern Society) There are generalized anxiety complexes and there are anxiety complexes which attach themselves to certain situations or circumstances.
There is, as students know, neurotic anxiety which essentially represents a fear of some imminent development and there is psychotic anxiety which essentially represents someone's propensity to do or commit some act.
What we are dealing with here, of course, is anxiety which Freud referred to as free floating. It is a form of neurotic and anxiety. Mr. F. suffered from an acute version of it and it is, coupled with his age, what led him to commit incestuous sex repeatedly with his daughter.
As Freud explains in Anxiety, there is such a psychological disorder which is commonly known as expectant dread. This is a term which can be simply explained practically by its own terms. A person suffering from expectant dread suffers from a neurosis in which that person dreads an event which he or she expects to occur.
In the case of Mr. F., what was feared was quite obvious: it was his advancing age.
A man at the age of forty-eight is by no means old. Many men just come into their prime at that age. Yet in our youth-oriented society, many men are made to feel that their sexual prowess is imperiled by the advancement of years. That is, many men are made to feel that at the age of forty-eight (or even older) they are no longer attractive to young women.
Mr. F. developed a neurotic anxiety about his advancing age, an anxiety which did not exactly have anything else to pin itself onto. Mr. F. became anxious about his advancing age (his evident and defensive behavior in my office about his age would confirm this) and developed a serious case of expectant dread while waiting for advanced age to destroy his virility. Obviously, much of what Mr. F. feared was not a real matter to be feared at all. But this matters little to the person whom expectant dread afflicts.
(Refer also to Dr. Walter W. Veinnerman's work called Anxiety among the Middle Aged for several other case histories involving the effects of neurotic disorders upon those in their middle years. Then consider also Freud's The Sexual Life of Man.)
The expectant dread with Mr. F. assumed what Freud calls a free-floating position within his psyche. That is, Mr. F. became generally anxious about his advancing age. Yet this anxiety did not have anything to attach itself to specifically. It didn't that is, until Mr. F. began a sexual liaison with his daughter. It was at that time that Mr. F. was presented with an opportunity to allay the stress of his expectant dread and his incipient neurotic anxieties.
Freudian analytic therapy shows us that the expectant dread floated freely in Mr. F.'s psyche and then transferred itself upon the sexual questions specifically. That is, Mr. F.'s anxieties about aging focused their attention purely upon his sexual activity. He felt, as these subconscious thoughts transferred themselves from one concept to the next, that if he could perform sexually with a young woman and satisfy her sexually, he would be able to subconsciously deny that he was in fact slowing down in a physical capacity. Thus, the free-floating anxiety now transferring itself to the matter of incest, Mr. F. became genuinely obsessive about having quick sexual encounters with his daughter. (See Freud's Resistance and Repression, paying careful attention to the section on obsessive neuroses.) As long as these encounters continued and as long as they were pleasing, Mr. F. could think of himself again as a vigorous "young man."
Mr. F. of course was deluding himself in that his original anxieties were caused by false fears and his solutions were equally based on false premises. Fortunately, however, I was able to refer Mr. F. to a psychotherapist near him to help him come to grips with reality and sort out his problems. Mr. F. continues at this writing to have sex with his teenage daughter. But I'm informed that he is slowly responding to treatment.
CASE HISTORY THREE
To consider the case of Mrs. Rona S., a thirty-eight year old housewife and the mother of three children, we must refer to the works of Sigmund Freud before even considering the actual text of her case.
The case of Mrs. S. is one of the odder cases contained in this volume. Despite the fact that this volume seeks to consider the cases of fathers and daughters, this particular case is seen through the eyes of a mother, a mother who was stunned to see incest creeping through the good fabric of her family. She was, naturally, horrified to make this discovery ... and horrified all the more to find herself a willing participant in an odd incestuous union.
Let us first consider the words of Freud in his famous work entitled Archaic and Infantile Features in Dreams. In this short work, as in the further research report by Freud entitled Development of the Libido and Sexual Organizations, the great Dr. Freud speaks of "the horror of incest."
Is Freud here referring to the actual horror of the actual commission of the act of incest? We think not. Instead most modern psycho-sexual researchers believe that the "horror" that Freud spoke of was the learned and acquired horror with which we consider the act of incest. After all, incest in our society is one of the most forbidden of acts. Naturally one who is raised in a middle class system of values would look upon this most proscribed act as something to be looked upon with "horror."
But it is interesting to note that Freud was impressed with how deeply this "horror" has been learned. After all, in this bizarre case of Mrs. Rona S., Mrs. S. can be seen to be horrified by incest even after she herself enjoyed her participation in it. Let's avoid generalities, however, and consider this case on the actual testimony of Mrs. S.
Mrs. S., a housewife in a liberal suburb of Philadelphia, came to my offices in the early spring of 1974, complaining that her entire family life was being destroyed by the practice of incest within her family.
"That," I informed Mrs. S. calmly and soberly at the outset of our first meeting, "is a very serious thing to say. Are you absolutely certain that incest has occurred."
"Oh, shit, doctor," she replied. "I was afraid you'd start off with that attitude."
"What attitude?" I asked.
"The half-baked attitude that you've already begun with," she said. "That's what I really hate about you shrinks. You assume everyone is crazy as soon as they walk through your doors."
"I assume nothing of that sort," I said to her. "Why do you accuse me of that?"
"Because I told you that incest was happening in my house," she said. "And you treat me as if I'm imagining the whole fucking thing!"
I was a bit surprised at the woman's language. Her use of such a coarse vocabulary merely intensified the obviously strong feelings which she had about incest. She was, nevertheless, a woman of some good breeding and refinement. She wore expensive but not flashy clothes. Her skirt was short and revealed well shaped legs. Her expensive designer dress fit tightly, revealing a body that would be quite pleasing to her husband ... and, in her case, also to her two sons.
"I'm certain that you're not imagining the incest," I said, trying to set the proper tone for conducting a serious interview. "Have you seen an incestuous act committed."
"I have," she said.
"I see," I replied. "Between one of your children and another of the children?"
"No," she replied slowly. "I watched my daughter going at it ... with . , . with..."
"A son?" I pressed. "Incest between brothers and sisters is not altogether uncommon these days."
"No," she said quickly. "My sons, Kevin and Mike, were involved in something completely different although that, too, was an act of incest."
"Well, then," I asked, somewhat mystified by the cryptic manner in which Mrs. S. was approaching this most forbidden of all subjects, what exactly are you referring to? It was something involving your daughter, I assume. Was it with an uncle perhaps?"
"Hell no," snapped Mrs. S. quickly. "It was my daughter, Lynn, and Henry."
"Henry?"
"My husband," she said. "I saw the two of them balling. I caught them right in the act."
"Extraordinary," I said. "I'm very sorry."
"Sorry?" she asked.
"I'm sure it was an extremely traumatic experience for you, Mrs. S., " I said to her.
"Of course it was," she said, making herself comfortable on my interviewing couch. "But it was just what I deserved. There's no denying that."
"I'm afraid I don't understand," I said.
"You will," she said. "As soon as I give you all the sordid details you'll understand everything all too well."
"Would you like to begin to tell me about it?" I asked. "I'd like you to give me all the details on how you stopped them in the middle of an act of incestuous sexual intercourse. Please begin when you're ready."
"I just want to make one thing clear first," she added. "I don't want to mislead you, you know."
"What did you want to point out?" I asked.
"You said that I surprised them in the middle of the act," she said. "That's not right."
"Isn't that what you said ? " I asked.
"No," she replied adamantly. "What I said was that I saw them when they were in the middle of the act. But I didn't break in on them. That would have been rude, even though what they were doing was highly immoral."
I looked up at Mrs. S. and I studied her carefully. "You mean," I asked, "that you saw them copulating but you didn't interrupt them. You let them finish and then you made your presence known?"
"That's exactly what I'm saying," she said. "I wanted my husband to squirt his semen into my daughter's hot little snatch. I figured that he had already gone too far by penetrating her. I figured it didn't make a whole hell of a lot of difference if he came."
"I see," I said. I paused and studied Mrs. S.'s pre-interview charts. Then I looked up at her again and posed a further question which admittedly was jumping ahead a bit.
"And this," I asked, "this catching of them in the act also had some connection to an act of incest which you participated in? Is that correct?"
"Very correct," she replied.
"Mrs. S., " I said, "I can see already that this might be a very involved case. "I'd like you to begin telling me the details about it right away."
"It will be my pleasure, doctor," she said to me. "I've been keeping this horrible thing quiet for too long. I simply have to start talking about it."
"I completely understand," I said.
"In a way, doctor," she added before beginning, "it's a lot like having a bra that's two sizes too small."
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"I don't know," she replied, "but this incest story is something that I simply must get ff my chest."
"I see," I said. "Please begin."
Mrs. S. took a deep breath, fidgeted for a moment and then told me this incredible but documented story of how the act of incest perverted a fine American family....
. . . Imagine my surprise, doctor, when I walked in on my daughter and my husband and discovered that they were fucking! And it wasn't a simple matter of them giving in to a casual perfunctory fuck, either. They were doing it in grand style, doctor. And they were really enjoying what they were doing.
Here's what happened. I was home with my husband and my daughter on a day back in the fall of 1973. It was a Friday afternoon and my daughter, Lynn, was home from school. The boys, Kevin and Mike, my two sons, weren't home yet. I looked at the clock and I realized that I wanted to get to the supermarket before it closed for the day.
Well, when I announced to Lynn and Henry, my husband, that I'd be going out to the store I saw them exchange coy smiles. I kind of thought that something might be up. Well, the only thing that was up as it turned out was my husband's big fat extended penis! And that's something that's always up, doctor. Either for me or for my daughter!
I left the house and I went to the store, doctor, but I couldn't get off my mind that sly look that my husband and my daughter had exchanged when I said that I'd be out for a while. I'm not a suspicious woman by nature, doctor. Or at least I try not to be one. Well, I guess now I'm suspicious of everyone. But if you'd been through what I've been through recently, you'd be a little suspicious, too.
I was half way into town, doctor, when my suspicion got the best of me. I knew that thoe two back at the house were up to something. But what could it have been, I wondered. I knew that my husband and my daughter were close, but I never had any idea that they were so close that he was sticking his big fat prick into her vagina.
I stopped the car and when no traffic was coming I turned it around. I drove back toward our house, but I wanted to take them by surprise. I didn't want them to hear the sound of the car coming, so I stopped the car about a block away and walked the rest of the way.
I approached the house from the side and I came through the kitchen door. I listened carefully to see if I could hear what was going on.
I heard nothing downstairs in that living room. So I quietly began to move through the house. Eventually I heard something upstairs, up in the bedroom that my husband Henry and I snared.
What kind of sounds were they, doctor? I know that's what you're wondering. They were the worst type of sounds that I could have imagined. They were the sounds of the legs of the bed creaking. And then there were moans of satisfaction coming from a female.
What female? My daughter, damn it. It was my innocent little daughter Lynn. She was doing something in the bedroom with my husband. And I had a damned good idea what it was, doctor. A damned good idea!
I crept up the stairs as quietly as I could. I sneaked over to the bedroom door and I looked in. Well, doctor, I've always been a very moral woman and I don't like obscenity. I never used to use strong language or anything like that. I'd never even mention the parts of the body in polite conversation.
But now things are different!
I'll tell you exactly what I saw when I looked into that room, doctor. I saw my husband right in the act of mounting my little Lynn.
"Oh, Dad!" she was moaning to him. "That pussy lick was so heavenly. Did you learn to do that on Mother?"
"Yes," he replied to her, "I did. But your mother doesn't respond that well to pussy licking."
"She doesn't?" asked my daughter as she prepared to get fucked right there in front of me. And right on my own bed.
"No," she doesn't," replied Henry.
"But I thought all women enjoyed having their pussy's licked," said Lynn. "Isn't Mother normal like all the other women in the world."
"It's not that she doesn't like having her pussy licked," he said to her, revealing some of the innermost secrets of our marriage. "It's just that she responds better to other things. Every girl has her favorites, you know."
"What does Mom like?" she asked. "Come on, Dad, tell me. I want to know."
"Your mother-likes to be buttfucked," he said to her. I could feel my cheeks getting red and I could almost feel my ass-hole tightening out of fury.
"You mean she-likes to be fucked in doggie style position?" she asked.
"No," replied my husband, "that's not what I mean at all. What I mean is that she-likes to be fucked through her ass-hole. She-likes me to take her anally."
"Wow!" chirped Lynn as my husband moved right into place on top of her. She opened her legs widely to admit her father's penis to her pussy. I saw him push forward and I studied the look of contentment on her face as his long hard rod slipped into her slot.
"Oh, Wow, Dad!" she moaned as his rod slipped in. "Oh, wow, your dick is big today!"
"Feel good?" he asked.
"It sure does," she replied. "I don't know why Mom-likes it up her ass when a cock like that feels so good in the cunt. Mom must be loco!"
"Every woman has her favorites!" he replied.
And then she wrapped her legs around him, squeezing him tightly between her trim daughterly legs. She began to pump and he humped forward and back vigorously, giving her much more effort than he ever gave to me. A real two-timer that Henry was, fucking a mother and a daughter at the same time.
I looked in that room and I saw his bare ass bobbing up and down between Lynn's legs. Lynn was such an attractive young girl. It just didn't seem right to see an older man's ass rising and falling as he worked his penis in and out of her. Yet she liked what he, her father, was doing.
"Cunt," she uttered calmly. "Oh, cunt! Oh, cunt! Oh, cunt, that feels good!"
"Steady, Lynn," her father said to her. He started to pump briskly now. I knew him well enough and had been fucked by him enough to know exactly what was going on. He could feel the sperm down in his balls now. He was getting ready to spurt it all out into her cunt.
"Oh, Dad! You're such a big man!" she squealed. "I'm coming! I'm coming hard!"
She was really throbbing her pussy upwards at him now, doctor, battering his balls with it as she pumped upwards. It was an incredible sight to see a girl pumping so wildly with her own father between her legs. But that's what I was seeing. Right there on my own bed.
He ground his dick hard into her and I knew he wasn't far from coming.
"Feel it?" she asked him.
"I feel your pussy," he said. "Oh, my little Lynn! My little Lynn!"
He was kissing her all over now as he throbbed his big dick in and out. I knew he was on the verge of a come. I knew he was trying to prolong it for as long as possible.
"Feel the pussy walls," she whispered back to her father. "Feel them vibrating?"
He grunted. "I feel it," he said. "I feel them vibrating!" He pounded his dick relentlessly, not giving her a moment to let up.
"Feel good?" she asked.
"Real good," he answered. v
"Want to come?" she asked.
"Got to," he replied. "I got to come! Got to come hard right now!"
"Oh, balls!" he virtually yelled. "There it comes! I'm coming! I'm coming!"
They both virtually shrieked with delight, doctor. His penis spasmed and shot its hot wet load all over her vagina. I watched them grind their loins together and I even managed to keep peeping at them while they dismounted. Then, incredibly, my husband did for her what I'd been asking him to do for me for a long ime, He ate her out when they were finished fucking. Imagine!
Yes, just imagine the nerve of that man. He told me that he'd never eat a lady out after fucking her because he didn't like the taste of sperm. Then what does he do? He turns around and fucks my daughter and eats her out the first time she asks for it. Believe me, doctor, that incident will not be forgotten when it comes time for divorce proceedings.
Well, I tiptoed back downstairs and out of the house. I knew how furious I was, but I wasn't thinking about divorce proceedings yet. No, doctor, I was thinking of how I would get revenge on those two-particularly on my husband. Somehow I had the idea that he was behind all this.
When I returned to the house from the supermarket a few hours later I discovered that Lynn and her father were gone. They had slipped away from me for the afternoon, probably going to a hotel to fuck. The only other one home was Kevin, my older son, he was seventeen. I began to look at the boy's muscular young body and I began to get ideas, doctor. Ideas about how to get even with Lynn and Henry.
Finally I simply broke down and told Kevin what I'd seen. Kevin, a thoughtful boy, merely mulled things over. Then he said he was going into the next room to think. He said he'd be right back.
Frankly, I didn't know what he was going off to think about. I just sat in the living room thinking things over and trying to figure out what to do about the horny feelings I had down in my pussy. Then, a few moments later, I heard Kevin's voice.
"Mom?" he asked. "I think I know what the only solution is."
I looked up at the doorway. He had come down the stairs again and ... and he was stark naked! I couldn't believe it! My own son was stark naked and standing there in front of me. He was as bare as the day he was born, but he sure had a lot more hair down you-know-where.
"Kevin!" I shouted as I looked at him standing there nude. "Cover yourself up! You're seventeen years old! This is disgraceful!"
"I'm not embarrassed, Mom," he said to me. "Nudity is nothing to be ashamed of. It's a beautiful experience and it's all part of the love act.
"Love act? Nudity? Beautiful?" I screamed as he started to come toward me. "Have you popped your cork? What the hell are you talking about?"
"Look, Mom," he said as he reached both of his hands down to his balls and his prick. "This is for you."
I held my own hands to my mouth I was so stunned by what he was doing. He was holding his own balls in his hands and hoisting them up on his palms a bit, presumably to show me how big and well hung he was. I didn't need his help to see that, however. "For me?" I asked. "Kevin! Put that away. It's not right to pull out your whang in front of your mother. Not at your age, anyway!"
"Come on, Mom," he said as he moved a little closer to me. "Let's cut the bullshit. When you started to tell me about Dad and Lynn you started thinking about balling with me. Why don't you just admit it?"
"Kevin, this is disgraceful. Absolutely disgraceful! You should be ashamed of-"
"Oh, cut it," he said again, coming closer to me and showing me the big whang that he had. "Why don't you just admit it, Mom. My cock is probably bigger than Dad's anyway. This'll give you a good chance to get even with him."
"I don't think you're being very proper, Kevin," I snapped, trying to muster my. last line of resistance. "I think you're being very disrespectful of your father."
"What a pile of shit," he said. "Look. Take my cock in your hand. Then tell me whether or not you want it jammed up into your warm maternal cunt!"
I was shocked at his language, doctor. But I guess this was just going to be a big day of shocks for me. Even worse, though, was the way my pussy was reacting. I have to admit it, my pussy was getting pretty wet over the sight of that boy's dick. And what better way, I thought, to strike back at my husband and my daughter than to fuck with my son. So I told Kevin that I had something to show him. I dropped my skirt, opened my vagina and showed him my clitoris. Then I told him to start work on it.
"Mom, it's huge," he said to me as I glowed with the coming compliment. "It's the biggest clitoris I've ever seen," my son said.
"Thank you, Kevin," I answered.
"It's almost like a little toy penis," he continued as he looked at it and played with it with his finger.
"It is the female penis, you know," I cooed to him. "Now please be quiet, Kevin, and get back to your work."
Kevin sucked that clit of mine furiously and brought my whole body up to a peak of expectancy. I hadn't orgasmed yet, though. I was still waiting for that. I had been waiting since my husband had started to fuck Lynn. But I knew I didn't have much longer to wait. I reached down and I caressed my son's penis while he licked my pussy and sucked on my clit.
I made him turn over onto his back. Now that I had decided to fuck I wanted to use my favorite position. He obediently got onto his back and smiled as he lay there with his prick sticking up into the air.
"Are you going to sit on it, Mom?" he asked with a smile.
"I'm going to skewer myself on it," I said to him. And I wasn't lying.
At first I merely leaned over and kissed him on the penis for a final little taste of foreplay. Then I threw one leg across him and straddled his lower body. I held my pussy above my son's erect cock and then I lowered it. I greedily took that big erect prong into me and I sighed in satisfaction as I drew it in.
"Oh, Kevin," I moaned. "You don't know how good a penis can feel for a woman."
"Sure I do, Mom," he said to me. "I know how good your cunt feels wrapped around my stick!"
"What a sexy son," I said as I started to ride up and down on that stick. What a cock on my boy!"
He was beginning to move his hips upward into me as he stroked that cock up and down in my pussy. I alternated with his rhythm and brought my pussy downward with crashing descending strokes each time that he pumped upward. It only took a few seconds before my whole pussy burst forth in big orgasmic blasts.
I stroked downward like that on him for several seconds, doctor, and I was continually pleased when he continued to hold back his come. But finally I knew from the way his penis was growing that he wasn't about to hold it much longer. So I braced myself for his explosion.
I leaned downward on my son and embraced him fully, pressing my hardened nipples against his bare chest and throbbing my wet box downwards onto that big orgasming stick of his. Then I felt it. His penis trembled, lurched, exploded and jetted a long stream of hot gushing come straight upwards into my wet orgasming vagina. My son was coming so hard that he nearly launched me into orbit with that big hot roaring blast up from underneath me.
I kept throbbing downward, doctor, until I'd caught every drop he had to shoot. Then I simply slid off him and wilted onto the bed beside him, letting all that sperm slowly slide out of my vagina and onto the bed in a great big puddie that left a permanent stain on the bedspread. I was so tired and over-exerted from the fuck he'd given me that I actually fell asleep right there within the next five minutes. And doctor, I don't normally sleep in the afternoon., . .
. . . "Then you fell asleep after having sex with your son?" I asked Mrs. S. as she brought her story to a conclusion.
"I did," she said. "I know I shouldn't have, but I was so happy and satisfied that I drifted right off."
"And what about Kevin?" I asked Mrs. S.
"Kevin got up and got dressed again," said Mrs. S. "He went downstairs and was in the living room picking up my clothes when his brother Mike came home."
"Mike didn't discover you nude, did he?" I asked.
"Discover?" she asked. "No, he didn't exactly discover me nude. But Kevin told him that I was upstairs nude. Kevin sent the fifteen-year-old up to see me."
"What happened when he saw you?" I asked.
"He was very embarrassed," said Mrs. S. "But then he got interested in what he saw. So he came in and sat down on the edge of the bed. I invited him to give me a little kiss. The next thing I knew Kevin was back. Kevin told Mike what he had done and Mike wanted to do it, too."
"Did you resist he second boy?" I asked Mrs. S. as our interview came to a conclusion.
"How could I?" she asked. "I never like to play favorites with the boys. If a favor is done for one boy it should be done for the other boy, too."
"So you had intercourse with Mike, too," I said.
"I did, doctor, yes," she answered. "And I'm not sorry. It was Mike's first screw even though Kevin had been a young man of experience. It made me feel very sexy to have a virgin son fucking me."
"I see," I said to Mrs. S. "And what about the future of sex with the boys? If you made love to both of them this one time did you have to keep things even in the future, too."
"I try to keep things completely even, doctor," said Mrs. S. "And actually it's not hard to do. I have a certain technique that I use."
"What is it?" I asked.
"We make sandwiches," she said with a coy smile.
"Sandwiches?" I asked, losing her train of thought completely.
"That's right," she said. "Body sandwiches on a mattress. When I fuck with the boys I fuck with them both at one time. You know what I mean, doctor. The old melange a trois game or whatever those French call it."
"I see," I said. "In other words you're very involved sexually with your two boys."
"I screw with them in every way I can," she said. "Hell. To tell you the truth I'd almost like to stop. I know this incest thing isn't any more right between them and me than it is between Lynn and her father."
"Then why do you keep doing it?" I asked.
She shrugged. "I can't stop," she said. "And, hell, they deserve it."
"The boys deserve to have sex with their mother?" I asked, very confused by Mrs. S.'s whole line of thought and discussion, I looked at her carefully as she replied.
"No, no," she said in an irritated tone of voice. "That's not who I was talking about."
"Who were you referring to then?" I asked.
"Them!" she snapped. "Lynn and Henry."
"Your husband and your daughter," I said.
"None other," she said.
"For that one indiscretion on the bed?" I asked, looking at the way Mrs. S. twisted the wedding ring on her finger. I could easily see the phallic implications of the way incest had greatly disturbed her.
"That one indiscretion?" she snapped. "like hell. I hope I haven't led you to believe that I only caught Lynn and her father balling once!"
"How many times have you caught them?" I asked.
"More than I can count," she answered quickly. "Hell. If I told you some of the things I've seen them doing it would curl your pubic hair, doctor."
"Try me," I said.
"What?" she asked.
"You're on," I said. "We'll take a break for lunch and then I'd like to hear exactly what you're talking about."
"The things I've caught them doing?" she asked.
"Right," I said. "Will you tell me about this after lunch?"
"Sure," she said after a few seconds of thought. "I'll tell you what I caught them doing just the other day and I'll tell you something else important, too."
"What would that be?" I asked.
"I'll tell you," she said, "what I did that day to get even with them."
"I look forward to hearing about it," I said to Mrs. S. And at that moment we concluded our first interview session and broke for lunch.
* * *
"The fact is," Mrs. S. began quickly as we returned to my office after lunch, "that when my husband pulled this on me I should have responded with a good swift kick to his balls right on the spot."
"What are we discussing now?" I asked Mrs. S.
"What the fuck do you think we're talking about?" she snapped. "We're talking about the way my husband and my daughter and the way they're always fucking," she said. "What the fuck did you think we were talking about? My periods?"
"I thought we might be talking about something specific," I said. "Something specific that you caught them doing." I watched her and waited for a reply.
"That's what we are talking about," she said. "Fuck, doctor. I was thinking about this all during lunch and I've gotten pissed off all over again about this."
"Obviously," I noted.
"There's nothing funny about this," she snapped. "Nothing funny at all."
"Of course not," I said.
"I hope you're not sitting back there and laughing under your breath," she said. "Some shrinks do that, you know. There isn't much lower than laughing when incest is ripping apart an otherwise happy marriage."
"Of course not, Mrs. S., " I said. "Please be assured that you have my complete sympathy and understanding. But I would like to hear exactly what you're talking about. You could begin whenever you're ready."
Mrs. S. readied herself quickly and then launched into this following account of incest within her five-member family. Throughout her account of these sexual misdeeds, Mrs. S. spoke in a quick, exasperated voice. ...
. ... Doctor, it's bad enough to have a husband who cheats on you. It's even worse to have a husband who screws your daughter on the sly. But it's even worse when your husband does all your favorite things with that same daughter.
I'll tell you exactly what's got me so hot under the tampon, doctor. I'll tell you why that son-of-a-bitch husband of mine is going to have a knee in the cubs the next time I see him.
This happened about a week ago, doctor. It was the classic situation in which I catch him screwing with Lynn. I was at the bridge club where I go to play cards in the afternoon. All of a sudden I realized that my husband and daughter were home alone. So, right in the middle of a losing hand I sprung up from the bridge table and excused myself.
"Something wrong?" asked one of the girls.
"Hot flashes?" asked another.
"Change of life discomfort?" asked another with a smile that was trying to be understanding.
"It's nothing serious girls," I explained. "I just got my period and I want to get home before I wreck my panties."
"Oh," they said in unison. "We understand."
Sure, they thought they understood. But would they ever have understood if they had known what I saw when I snuck into my own house, tiptoed up the stairs and peeped into my own bedroom again?
It was Lynn and Henry again, of course. My daughter and my husband, going at it full speed and with him getting ready to slam his big hard cock into her. But this time it was the way in which they were doing it that outraged me.
You see, doctor, for some time my husband and I have worn some special garments when we make love. I have, for example, a bra with a space cut in it for the nipples to poke through. Similarly, I have a pair of black lace panties with a whole big area cut away at the crotch so that I can wear those lovely lace panties and get fucked at the same time. And I have a wonderful pair of feathered garters that hold up a long pair of lovely black lace fishnet stockings. I wear those stockings while fucking, doctor, because my husband-likes having me wrap my long legs around him while he's penetrating me.
Well, what did I see when I looked in that bedroom, doctor? I saw Lynn dressed up in all my best bedtime clothes. And this time they'd gone one step farther. Lynn was wearing all of my things and she'd tied my husband down to the bed. She'd tied him down and then tied a silk scarf to his erect penis. This was too much, doctor. I'll describe exactly what I saw.
Lynn's fair young nipples were poking out of that black bra with the holes at the tits. Her fair little brown patch of pussy hair was clearly visible at the cut-away crotch of my pair of panties.
On her legs? Right! My feathered garters holding up my fishnet stockings. She was even wearing a tight little pair of boots with nice high heels. Sure it was a kinky scene, doctor, but my husband, strapped down to that bed, was really grooving on it. I had only one regret, doctor. I wanted to be the female in there doing that to him. I had the worse temptation to take a flying leap into that room and land knee-first to his balls on that bed.
But I didn't. I was too fascinated by what I was seeing. So I just stayed there carefully concealed and watched the father and the daughter going at their incestuous business. Disgusting, doctor, truly disgusting!
Do you know what she'd done? My daughter had taken a bunch of belts and had strapped my husband down to the four corners of the bed. His wrists were tied to the top of the bed and his ankles were tied to the other corners. He was lying face up, of course, and she'd even tied that silk scarf to his penis, knotting it so that when she squatted down on his penis the knot would rub against her clitoris.
"The belts," my husband said to her. "they're tight. Almost too tight."
"They can't be too tight, Dad," she said. "Just lie there. You'll like this."
She climbed onto the bed with her father. Then she started to kiss him on the side of his right ankle. I could see the look of blissful agony on his face as her daughterly lips moved slowly up his leg toward his penis, stopping only around his knee for a little lingering nibble.
"Oh, God," he moaned. "This is too much. Too fucking much!" He was loving everything she was doing, doctor. And she was rubbing her bare nipples against his flesh as she worked upwards toward her father's penis.
I watched her carefully, doctor. She assumed a squatting position on his knee and then she pushed her mouth to his penis. Sure, that scarf was knotted around the base of his penis, but she still had plenty of room to perform fellatio on him. She took the head of his rod into her mouth.
"Oh, Lynn," he moaned. "Oh, sweetheart. Oh, yes. I love that!"
She was moving her lips up and down the long bare shaft of his penis. I knew the expression on his face, doctor. He was in heaven over the lip service that his daughter was paying to his big extended rod, "Too much," he kept saying over and over. "Too much. Can I come in your mouth?"
"You have to come in my pussy, Dad," she'd counter. But she kept running her tongue's tip up and down the long blue vein on the underside of his penis. My husband was being tortured so exquisitely by my daughter's oral talent! I don't know how he was able to hold back his come.
"Are you sure I can't?" he asked. "Are you sure I can't come in your mouth?" He was panting now, almost breathless in his anxiety.
"No fair coming anywhere except in my pussy," she cooed to him in her faithful daughter's voice.
"Let me have the pussy," he begged. "Drop it down on my rod."
He was outright pleading with her now, doctor. But all she'd do is keep licking and keep giggling. Then she untied his hands.
Finally she moved up right on top of her father. She straddled his penis, doctor, and she spread apart the crotch of those lace panties. She spread it so that she could take the penis into her without having to remove the panties. Then he reached up and pushed his palms against the bare nipples that were exposed through that cut-away bra.
"Now?" my husband begged as his daughter straddled him. "Now? Finally?"
"Does Dad want his little girl's pussy?" she asked him, giving him a little wink and a wriggle of the hips at the same time.
"I got to have it," he begged. "Let me have the pussy before I come too soon."
She leaned down as he continued to play with her breasts. She gave her father a huge sloppy kiss on the lips. Then she brought down her pussy quickly on his penis. That big shaft slipped into her pussy and he started to move it upwards as well as he could with his ankles still lashed to the bed by the belts.
She rode up and down in his dick, doctor, pumping first slowly and then briskly as she ground her pussy downward against that knotted silk handkerchief. She kept wriggling her ass and moving those long stockinged legs on her father's body. I watched intently, my feelings alternating between a blind rage and a raging desire in my own pussy. After all, here was my daughter in all of my sex clothes. And what was she doing? She was satisfying my husband, her father, in my bed. I heard him start to yelp. His hands were on her hips. He was pumping vigorously and the two of them were locked in an impassioned embrace as they ground their loins together.
"Orgasm!" I heard her squeal. "I'm having an orgasm!"
"Me, too!" he grunted. "Coming! I'm coming!"
And then they both began to grunt and bellow, doctor, letting the world know that each of them were in the exquisite throes of orgasms. It was more than I could take, doctor. I had an itch down in my pussy that only my sons would now be able to tend to. I silently wished that Lynn would fold my clothes neatly before putting them back in my drawer. I had always told her to leave things the way she found them. That went for clothes as well as for fathers and husbands!
I was madder than a cow going through change of life, doctor. And I knew once again that incest would be the cure for incest. I knew what my husband and daughter were doing behind my back and if they wanted to play like that I could. As for me, I'd have the boys.
So I waited until Lynn and Henry had disappeared again. Then I decided that I'd treat myself to a nice big comfortable sandwich. I'm sure you know what I mean, doctor. Each boy would be a slice of bread. And I'd get to be the big piece of meat in the middle. It started almost as soon as I could be alone at home with my two sons.
I called the boys into the big bed in the bedroom that my husband and I share when he's not off in a motel with little Lynn. And I explained to the boys that it was going to be the night for a good "sandwich."
"Oh, boy!" exclaimed Mike. The younger boy was always very enthused about fucking me. Kevin liked to fuck me, too, but he was a more subdued boy. Instead of showing how enthused he was by shouting his joy at the top of his lungs, Kevin would react in a more subdued way. He would merely get hard and build up a good big orgasm for me.
Well, doctor, as soon as I announced the sandwich the boys were ready for it. I undid my blouse and showed them my bare tits. Then I watched them pulling down their pants. It was always so cute to see a pair of brothers trying to please their mother so nicely.
Mike was the first one to get his penis out, but Kevin was the first one to be completely naked. As I lifted my blouse off my body I felt Kevin crawling onto the bed with me. His young hands were already pulling at my skirt to get it off my body.
Mike followed him onto the bed. Mike and Kevin pulled at my skirt and had it off me in a few more seconds. The boys looked at that furry brown triangle which appeared beneath my panties. And then one of my two sons-I'm not sure which, pulled my panties down my legs and off me. I was naked with the rest of them.
"Come on,' boys," I said to them. "Your mother wants her fair share of foreplay. How about one boy on each tit?"
This is something that I simply loved, doctor. As I lay back on my bed Kevin snuggled up to my left tit and pushed his face to it as he held it in his hands. He played with my nipple with his tongue. He licked and he slurped. And then his brother pushed his face to the pink nipple of the other breast. And Mike did the same thing as his brother. I had each boy fondling with a boob.
"The clitoris," I moaned to the boys. "Don't forget the very big clitoris which is waiting for you down there. And don't forget the back door, either."
My boys knew how to thrill me, doctor. At first each of them pushed a free hand to my slot and there were about ten fingers running all over my vagina. At times one finger of each of them would be making circling motions around my clitoris. But eventually it was just Mike's hand which was left to the clit and the vagina. Kevin's hand had tucked itself underneath my bottocks and was attempting to stimulate my back door.
Attempting? Succeeding is more accurate, doctor. Kevin's probing forefinger had pushed its way right up to my litle brown hole. The tip of the finger had slipped right through it and I was being penetrated from the back. Some women can't stand that feeling, doctor, but I absolutely love it when the boys stimulate my anus. Any woman who has never had her ass diddled like that just doesn't know what she's missing.
As one boy played with my anus like that the other boy played with my clit. They each rubbed their mouths, lips and tongues against my nipples. I could feel their hard rods pressing against me and to the best of my abiliy I rubbed my bare legs and hands against their rods.
Then I instructed Kevin to get underneath me. He did. He lay back on the bed face up with his prick sticking in the air. Gently I lay back on top of him, letting him rub that big penis of his right against the small of my back while his balls pressed against my ass cheeks.
"Okay, Mike," I then said. "Your turn. Mount up!"
As I retained my position lying on my back on my son, my other son crawled on top of me. I opened my legs to him and showed him the big wide crack between my legs. "Come on, Mike," I said to my fifteen-year-old boy, "Mom wants you to put it right .in there. Be a good boy and put it to Mom that way."
Mike wanted it in there just as badly as I did. So he crawled on top of me and moved that big long prong of his right to the slot between my legs. Then he pushed. He shoved that long organ directly into my slot and he began to pump. He moved that prick of his back and forth and, while I balanced on my other son, I managed to wrap my legs upwards and around Mike's comfortable young body.
As he rubbed his penis back and forth inside me I squealed with the delight of having two penises so close to my genital areas. I moaned and moaned with the thrill of it all, doctor. And I pumped briskly on Mike's prick. Mike always liked to see how long he could hold his come, doctor. But I always get a devilish thrill out of seeing how fast I can make him ejaculate. It's not hard with an inexperienced boy, you know. I love my son very much, doctor, but you've got to remember that I'm the only one that he's ever fucked.
I brought Mike to a speedy orgasm and I felt that penis of his bending, twitching and unloading inside of me. I rotated my pussy all around and I squeezed that boyish body of his as he came. I wanted to draw everything out of him that I could possibly get. And with a few good squeezes, I did. ...
. . . Mrs. S. paused at that point and for a moment I thought she was concluding her story. I asked if there was more.
"Of course there's more," she said. "That wasn't much more than half of it."
"I see," I said. "Continue."
"The next thing I did was let Mike catch his breath for a few seconds. Then, after Kevin had been frantically pumping his balls and prick up against my backside areas, I got up off him as soon as Mike withdrew from me."
"And then?" I asked Mrs. S.
"And then I had my younger son, Mike, lie face down on the bed, but in a position so that he was lying over two of three pillows which were tucked under his crotch area."
"What was the purpose of that?" I asked.
"I wanted his body to be humped up, doctor," she said. "I wanted him hunped up like that for the second part of the sandwich. You see, when he was humped up like that I lay across him face down. That way my ass was sticking in the air and that way my other son, Kevin, who was just aching to come by now, could mount me from the backside."
"Did he?" I asked.
"He sure did," said Mrs. S. "He got up there on top of me and pushed his penis into the pussy lips between my legs. It was right up front underneath, almost like getting ass-fucked. His penis pushed deeply into me since his penis was sliding into an area which his brother had already moistened and loosened up. The head of his rod pushed so far into me, doctor, that it was actually pressing against my cervix. He pumped rapidly and came after about five minutes of rapid-fire stroking. He made me orgasm during the whole time, but at no time did I orgasm the way I orgasmed when he ejaculated."
"Were you particularly thrilled with his orgasm?" I asked.
"I certainly was," Mrs. S. replied. "It was a massive come and the prick was so deep inside me that I could feel all of those hot seeds spattering against my cervix. When a girl feels a big puddle of come being left down there she has no choice but to get off a huge orgasm."
"Thank you, Mrs. S., " I said. "I have just one final question for you."
"Yes?" she asked.
"It would seem to me that if you and your sons were making sandwiches like that you might have been tempted to practice certain anal techniques. For example, have you ever had one boy's penis in your vagina while the other son's organ was inserted in your rectum?"
"We tried that a couple of times," Mrs. S. confessed. "But frankly I didn't like it that much. I like to get both penises in my vagina where they can spurt off their comes. I like taking all that sperm into me. I feel that the sperm belongs there. It's natural that way. And besides, even though I like a thin little finger down there in my back door a penis can really fill up an anus, almost to the point where it's uncomfortable."
"Thank you, Mrs. S., " I said. "Let's discuss your case."
CONCLUSIONS ON CASE HISTORY THREE
Mrs. S. had come to me for a professional assessment of her actions. Having listened to her carefully I was ready to share with her my views on her case.
I handled the most pressing point first. Did I think she was doing something harmful for her or the boys? While I was unable to give a flat yes or no answer to a question of that sort, I went to the most important point involved within the question. I told Mrs. S. that I considered it unfortunate that she would have to seek partners other than her husband for sex. I told her that I hold the marriage and the family as sacred units of Western society and I deplore any trends which threaten these venerable institutions.
However Mrs. S. was faced with a fait accompli in the fact that her marriage was already in sorry shape. No husband who is away as much as he is home can possibly expect his wife to remain fully faithful to him. It is simply not fair to the wife to ask her to be fifty percent wife and fifty percent widow. Thus, within the context of her situation, it was not surprising that Mrs. S. turned to other forms of sex.
Was there harm in turning to her sons? While I will never give incestuous relationships a carte blanche endorsement, I nevertheless feel that within Mrs. S.'s situation she handled her situation very well.
From a human standpoint it is easy to understand how she yielded to her son's amorous advances. And seeing satisfaction for herself and a clean sexual education for her sons, it is equally easy to see why she allowed the affair to continue.
Her incestuous relationship with her sons was based partially on candor, honesty, frankness and physical need. She did not deceive her sons in her relationship with them and she did indeed often state how much she loved and cared for her boys. Thus although the relationship was incestuous and although the boys were committing a societal taboo of having sex with their mother, the relationship seemed in all other ways to be a healthy one. For that reason there seemed to be little harm for any of the participants.
I cautioned Mrs. S. that my opinion was subject to revision. If, for example, the boys were not interested in having sex with other women, I would consider this an adverse effect. Similarly, if Mrs. S. refused to permit her boy to become interested in other females (and thus take an eventual normal position in society) I would consider this a fairly dangerous sign on her part. But as long as she in no way hindered her boys from assuming the traditional sexual roles that they desired and as long as all three parties continued to operate with frankness and affection, I had to admit that I saw Mrs. S.'s relationship with her sons as about as healthy an incestuous relationship as could be hoped for, were it not for the unfortunate fact that the entire motivation for the affair was a form of revenge which Mrs. S. was intent upon having against her daughter and husband.
This, of course, represented a most serious aspect of the incestuous affair between Mrs. S. and her sons as well as between Mr. S. and his daughter.
In two of Sigmund Freud's most famous works, The Meaning of Symptoms and Wish Fulfillment, the subject of competitive intercourse is discussed.
What is at issue here is the damaging aspects of these dual incestuous relationships and how they are slowly destroying the marriage of Mr. S. to Mrs. S. The damaging aspects are those of illusion (See also Dr. A. E. Wurberger's The Psychotic Adult) and competive sexuality.
Freud explains in The Sexual Life of Man that a certain theory of competitiveness is taught to all infants within western society. This competitiveness overlaps into sexuality and is included within the Freudian concepts of the Oedipal and Electra complexes; that is, young boys and young girls learn to compete for the favors of their parent of the opposite sex.
With this competitive spirit ingrained in us, it is not surprising that Mrs. S. reacted in the manner that she did when faced with incestuous sex occurring between her husband and her daughter.
Mrs. S. watched these two go through their incestuous motions several times. But in a normal spirit of competitiveness she herself reverted to incest as a form of competing. That is, in addition to avenging herself upon her husband for his sexual misdeed, she also sought to compete with him by seducing her own sons.
At the outset of this case history we referred to Freud's remarks in Archaic and Infantile Features in Dreams as well as in the other work entitled Development of the Libido and Sexual Organizations. The reference here was to the "horror ,of incest" which Mrs. S. felt but which she suppressed enough to actually commit incest herself. It is a measure of Mrs. S.'s competitive spirit and her desire for revenge that enabled her to overcome this Freudian concept of the "horror of incest."
It is impossible to tell exactly why Mr. S and his daughter committed incestuous sex. It might suffice only to note that their pattern of behavior is-unfortunately-increasingly common these days. Yet here, since we have only learned of their behavior through the words of a third party observer, we can draw our conclusions only from what we've heard.
The conclusions, however, are clear. Incest-both father-daughter and mother-son-was tearing at the fabric of the marriage of Mr. and Mrs. S. It was reaching a point of no return, a point where the family would have to break up.
Mrs. S.'s behavior in seducing her two sons was based on her feelings of competitive sexuality. But it was also based on the illusion that the seduction of the two boys would change her situation in some way. Obviously, any such action based on a false premise or an illusion of any sort is doomed to the most abject of failures. And so it was in the case of Mrs. S., as readers will see.
Dr. Orestes J. Pappas, in The Joy of Modern Marriage, conjectures that any serious domestic dispute which is left to simmer beneath the surface will only end in an even more serious conflict. The Pappas book is a layman's volume of popular marital psychoanalysis, of course, but the truth of this conjecture is clear in this particular case. This dispute, this incestuous involvement in the S. family, was left to simmer. Thus when Mrs. S. lost her temper one evening and confronted her daughter and her husband about their incestuous affair, there was a point of vehemence which left very little room for turning back.
While proper psycho-sexual counseling might have been able to save the S. marriage, such professional help was not available in time. Thus a violent conflict erupted within the S. marriage, with Mrs. S. making good on her already often promised knee to her husband's groin.
Mr. S. went into psycho-sexual therapy thereafter and, with his daughter, moved out of the house. The boys and their mother remained in the house and continued to have sex. One cannot see much brightness in the future of the 'S. family. A sad comment indeed, but an accurate comment on the danger of unbridled incestuous relationships.
CASE HISTORY FOUR
There is very little question that incest, for most Americans, represents a form of sex which is looked upon as evil and somewhat degenerate. And, of course, the fact is that incest is a long way from what nature probably intended. There are, after all, biological impediments to incestuous inbreeding (See Alexander Morris
Fitzroy's Incest: A Biological Explanation of Consequences, an address given before the National Academy of Scientists in 1958).
However, incest continues to occur for as many reasons as there are participants in incest. Occasionally, however, I come across a case where incest has been indulged in out of a desire to cure a particular person of a sexual habit which was considered much worse.
I will not introduce this case any further, but will merely present the words of Dr. Leonard W., a university professor at one of the country's best known Eastern universities. Dr. W., a professor of Marketing Analysis, took a calculated risk when he coerced his daughter to have sexual intercourse with him. And while he found pleasing the actual act of having sex with his daughter, Dr. W. was even more pleased with the results of his actions. This is Dr. W.'s story.
I glanced at Dr. W.'s pre-interview questionnaire as he presented himself to my interviewing chambers. Dr. W. was a dark, well dressed man who wore a tweed suit which was slightly on the baggy side and who smoked a briar pipe.
"You don't mind if I smoke, do you?" he asked as he made himself comfortable on my couch. "I'm not really used to being interviewed like this."
"I remind you that this is a research project," I said to him. "It doesn't necessarily have to lead to psychoanalysis. And I don't mind if you smoke."
"I suppose you want to hear about the incest," he said. "In the interest of science, of course."
"Of course," I replied. "You as an educated man should appreciate our interest in incest from a scientific standpoint."
"Naturally," he said slowly, puffing thoughtfully on his pipe. "So much of the material around about incest is ... well, smutty. Do you know what I'm referring to?"
"I am," I said.
"My seduction of my daughter," he began, "my virtual rape of her, wasn't smutty at all."
"I see," I said.
"No, doctor," he continued, "I had thought things out well in advance and I figured that it was what I had to do for her. I had no choice."
"You had to?" I asked.
"Very definitely," he replied. "For her sake."
"For her sake?"
"That's right," he said. "I had to cure her from something that was much worse. I'd seen a lot of this other habit around the university and I didn't like it. I didn't want my daughter to be involved in the radical fringes of an extremely perverted sexual movement."
"I see," I said. "How did you know she was involved in this sort of thing?"
"I saw her," replied Dr. W.
"I see," I said.
"Frankly, I'm very much in favor of every person's personal privacy. I wouldn't want to see any limitation to anyone's First Amendment rights to freedom of thought, speech, expression and sexual proclivity."
"Agreed," I said.
"But when it comes to my daughter," he continued, "it's a whole different ball game. As her father, I'm in a position to have to protect her from something which I think is a moral outrage."
"I see," I said.
"So the fact is that although I spied on her, I was doing it in her own interest. I had to protect her." Dr. W. paused and then continued. "Doctor," he said, "I may be an important professor of Marketing, but I'm also a father. In other words, I have a responsibility to my university and to my very own daughter. Don't you agree?"
"Tell me exactly what you saw her doing," I said. "I'd like to know what you saved her from." I had no intention of answering Dr. W.'s question on whether or not I agreed either with his motives of his actions. The fact is that I didn't, but at that point in the interview it would have been futile to develop a point of heated discord.
Dr. W. filled his pipe again and then told me this story of what he'd seen and what he'd done. ...
...My daughter's name is Lolly, doctor, and she's a very sweet impressionable young girl. She's seventeen and a senior at a local high school not far from the college where I'm on the faculty.
Lolly's a pretty bright girl for her age and she's always up on the new trends, particularly the trends for young women. In addition, she makes a lot of friends among the girls in my classes at the university. There's nothing wrong with any of this, of course. I'm just telling you this so that you understand why I made her commit incest with me.
. One of her girlfriends at the university was a big broad-shouldered girl named Wanda. Well, Wanda was in one of the Marketing classes that I taught. She always wore men's suits and neckties. Pretty soon I had the whole thing pegged pretty well, doctor. Wanda was a dike. No question about it.
But Wanda was friendly with my little Lolly. I knew there was trouble brewing, doctor, but, well, to use the expression that the students like to use, the shit didn't hit the fan until one evening when Wanda came over to my house.
"Did you want to talk about something in one of my classes? " I asked her.
"No," she said in that flat husky voice. "I wanted to talk to Lolly."
"Oh," I answered. And I sent her upstairs to where Lolly was in her room. I didn't think much of it until about ten minutes later. Just what were they doing up there, I wondered. I had to take care of my daughter, doctor, so I went up there to take a look.
Well, the door was closed. I could hear something going on on the other side of the door, doctor, but I couldn't hear voices and I couldn't really see anything.
So I stooped down like a real peeper and I peeped through the keyhole to that door. Well, did I ever get an eyeful. It was right then that I knew I was going to have to do something to cure my little Lolly.
Lolly was naked on the bed. I looked at my dear little daughter's bare body for the first time and I admired her dainty little muff and the beautiful trim little pink nipples that she had. Her body was trim and tan and her legs were long and gorgeous. She was lying on the bed completely naked. From the angle from which I was looking I could even see the little pink inner folds of her vagina.
"My daughter!" I thought in admiration, forgetting that the other girl was present in that room, too. "Growing up to be a real good looking female. Some guy's going to be really lucky when he-"
I stopped right in the middle of my sentence, doctor. I saw another naked female body now. Only this one wasn't firm and delicate like Lolly's. Nor did it have those tender young breasts or the marvelous young shape of a young woman in the bloom of her youthful femininity.
No, doctor, instead I saw the fat, flabby body of that other girl. Wanda. The dike. She was naked, too, and she walked toward the bed where my little Lolly was.
"Ready, Lolly?" she asked.
"Really," said my little daughter. I couldn't believe that I was seeing through that keyhole. It simply defied belief, doctor. I knew that some radical things were happening on the campus lately and I knew that there were some sort of man-ish women in the campus feminist movement. But never did I think that my own little girl would be getting dicked in her own bedroom by one of my best coed Marketing students.
I kept watching, doctor. There was nothing else to do. Plus, it wouldn't have been philosophically sound for me to burst in before they'd even done anything. So out of my respect for philosophy I had to let them go.
Wanda climbed onto the bed with Lolly and the two girls kissed. They rubbed their breasts together and I saw how they each made the other's nipples get hard. Wanda's breasts looked like a big fat udder while Lolly's tits were still delicate even when they rose to firm hard points.
They kissed each other and then they started kissing downward on each other's body. I saw their mouths and faces disappearing toward each other's crotches, doctor. And that's when I made another discovery.
My penis! I was erecting over what I was seeing. I'm not proud of it, doctor, but sure as hell, I was getting hard over watching my naked daughter making love with another woman.
I consoled myself with a bit of clearly thought-out logic, doctor. I told myself that when I looked at my daughter in that situation I was not seeing her as a daughter, but rather as a female with a nice body. Thus I was thrilled with the sight of those marvelous young breasts. And thus I was equally thrilled with that lovely little pussy. So thrilled that I wanted to stick my penis. Well, yes, doctor. I'll admit it because I 'don't want to lie. I had forgotten all about the fact that she was my daughter. I was only thinking instead that Lolly sure had ... well, she sure did have a nice little cunt. And it was a hell of a shame that some dike was darkening her cunt with her face.
And that's what was happening, of course. Wanda had pressed her face to my daughter's muff and was at present sticking her long penis-shaped tongue into my daughter's pussy, lapping all up and down and savoring the fine flavor of my daughter's vaginal juice.
And what was my little Lolly doing in return for her dike partner? Well, she was doing exactly the same thing in return. She was licking Wanda's big smelly pussy, drowning her face in Wanda's big black hairy muff.
Naturally I was furious, doctor. But I made a promise to myself in the interest of scholastic fairness that I wouldn't let this interfere with my giving an objective grade to Wanda at the end of the semester. I might, however, make the whole Marketing course more difficult for the entire class, however.
That, however, wasn't entirely what was on my mind at the time. What I was really thinking about as I stared at my daughter's pussy was how good my penis would feel in a nice little snatch like that. I kept thinking about that and eventually I felt a certain feeling down there in my nuts.
Hell, doctor, I was getting so excited over what I was seeing that I felt that I could have an ejaculation. So, to sort of ease the situation a bit, I reached down to my zipper, took down my fly and reached in for my dick.
"Oh, Wanda, yes!" I heard my daughter coo. "Oh, Wanda you know how to massage a clitoris!"
"Of course I do," replied that big muscle-bound bull dike. "Only a woman knows how to tool with another woman's body. That's why lesbianism is the only answer for the modern girl. The only real answer!"
"Oh, Wanda, yes!" cooed my lihhle Lolly again. "Oh, Wanda, make me come again!"
"Sure, sweetie," said that big dike. And then she jammed a pair of fingers into my daughter's pussy.
They were diking each other furiously by now, doctor. And before I even knew what I was doing I had my penis out of my pants and I was stroking it.
Now let's face it, doctor. It's not a very mature thing at all for a grown man, much less a Marketing professor, to be stroking his meat. It's even worse to be stroking it outside his own daughter's bedroom door. But, well, I'm not in the habit of doing it very often and these were very extenuating circumstances.
I kept imagining my penis inside that bare little pussy of my daughter's. I imagined how good it would feel pushing around inside there with my daughter's nubile young body moving around beneath me. I kept thinking about that as the sperm began to rise up in my dick.
I closed my eyes, doctor, and I eliminated that big bull dike from my thoughts. Instead I pictured myself giving my daughter a good hard ride in a bed. I could see her wrapping her bare legs around my middle and I could imagine the warm pulsating walls of her vagina against the hard shaft of my penis. I held that thought and I pumped my rod furiously against my closed palm.
Then I came. I came in hard hot spurts and I caught the juice in my palm and continued to stroke. I pumped my hand wildly against my throbbing organ. I was still stooping over in a position to see through that keyhole. In the last moments as my penis shot out its last few gobs of come, I opened my eyes slightly and saw that Wanda still going at it with my Lolly.
"Damn that bull dike," I cursed to myself, doctor. "My Lolly is too sweet a girl to get mixed up with lesbians. Someone will have to show her how sex should really be!"
I held that thought as I rubbed my sticky hand against the wall and pulled up my pants, "Someone?" I kept asking myself as I wandered back downstaris, the image of my daughter's beautiful bare pussy still paramount in my mind. "Who's this someone?"
I guess my conclusion was obvious, doctor. I was Lolly's father and thus ethically and legally I was the one who should be teaching her right from wrong. I knew that for her lesbianism was wrong and heterosexualy was right. But how was I to teach her a lesson like that?....
...."How were you to teach her something like that?" I asked Dr. W. as he concluded his first interview session at my office. "I can appreciate what a ticklish problem you had on your hands. What did you do?"
"The only thing I could do under the circumstances," the professor replied.
"You seduced her?" I asked.
"I guess you could call it that," said Dr. W, "Actually, she really wasn't in much of a frame of mind to be seduced. I sort of had to. ... "
"...To what?" I asked Dr. W. as his voice trailed away slightly.
"I sort of had to use force on her," he said. "She wouldn't give in easily to a seduction so I had to take her by force. It was that or not at all."
"I see," I said.
"Around the university, one of our mottos is 'experience is the best teacher', " said Dr. W. "I wanted to teach my little Lolly that a man's penis could be a lot more pleasing than some fat old woman's tongue."
"And did you succeed?" I asked.
"I'll tell you exactly what happened," Dr. W. said. "I think the operation was a complete success."
* * *
Dr. W. and I broke at that particular moment in the first interview while I handled an emergency telephone call from a fifteen-year-old boy who had just had sex with his older sister. The young boy was afraid that he would catch a disease from an incestuous act. I had to speak to the boy calmly and assure him that disease and immorality did not necessarily go hand in hand.
Later that same day Dr. W. returned to discuss at greater length the problems he had of an incestuous nature with his daughter.
"Let me ask you one question at the outset, Dr. W., " I said to the college instructor. "How many different times have you had sex with your daughter?"
"Oh, just once, doctor," he answered quickly. "I'm not sexually perverted or anything. I didn't even have sex with her for the sexual thrill. So this incest thing isn't something which I'm trying to do on a permanent basis."
"I see," I said.
"Once was enough. Once made the point that I was trying to make."
"And what exactly was that point?" I asked.
"It was the point that a penis is more pleasing to a woman's genitalia than a tongue is, particularly if the tongue is coming from another woman."
"In other words you wanted to break your daughter of the lesbian habit?" I asked. "Isn't that what you're trying to get across to me?"
"It is," he said.
"Would you tell me how you did it?" I asked.
"I'd be happy to, doctor," said Dr. W. And he then launched into this account of the first and only time to date that he'd had sex with his daughter. ...
....In educational circles, doctor, we have many theories about learning and about how learning is re-enforced and accomplished. One theory is that as soon as a mistake is made it must be corrected. In other words, the student who has erred must be shown that he or she has erred. Then the correct way must be indicated immediately.
I like to think of my daughter as a type of student, doctor. And subsequently I had to apply this theory of learning to her case. You see, she had obviously learned how to have sex with another woman. Now I had to show herimmediately-that there was a different way to have sex, a way which most normal women consider much more pleasing.
I knew also that I was going to have to prove this point right away. I was correcting a mistake, so to speak, and in order to correct a mistake I had to show my little Lolly the correct way of doing things right away.
So the next evening I arranged to have my wife put of the house. I put a condom in my pocket and I went upstairs and knocked on Lolly's door.
"Yes?" I heard her reply.
"Lolly," I said as I came through the door and closed it behind me, "I've come here to talk about something very important. And I need to talk right now."
"Can't we talk tomorrow night, Daddy?" she asked. "I have a lot of work to do tonight and-"
"Is it anything like the work you did last night?" I asked her, looking.her squarely in the eye. I could feel my penis take a little twitch when I thought of that bare soft little muff of hers.
"Daddy?" she asked. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Oh, no?" I asked. I reached to my shirt and started to unbutton it in front. "I think you know what I mean," I said to her. "You have a terribly short memory if you don't know exactly what I mean."
She shook her head to indicate that she still didn't know what I was talking about. I knew I was going to have to inform her quite bluntly.
"On the bed there," I reminded her. "With that bull dike who's in one of my business classes."
"Daddy!" she squealed, her face practically turning white. "Daddy, how did--? "
"Never mind how I know," I said to her, "the fact is that I do know." I reached to my pants and undid the belt. Then I tossed off my shirt and let it flop across her dresser.
"I know," I said, "and I intend to do something about it. Any good father doesn't let his daughter become a lesbian. Not without a struggle," I said.
"Daddy! What the--? "
"Undress!" I commanded to my daughter. "I'm going to give you something that no dike could ever give you!"
"Daddy! What the?"
"What is it?" I ranted. "Is that what you want to know? It's a good hard prick in the pussy! That's what it is! That's something that no dike will ever be able to slide into you!"
She sprang to her feet and tried to evade me. But I blocked the door and grabbed her wrist.
"Daddy!" she shrieked. "What's gotten into you!"
"It's not what's gotten into me," I roared. "It's what got into you last night."
"Daddy!"
"And it's what I'm going to get into you right now! A big hard cock!"
She looked down and saw that I'd erected and had pulled my cock out of my pants.
"Daddy! Put it away!" she squealed. "Don't make me touch your penis!"
"You'll touch it," I roared, "and by god, you'll have it in you! This time after you've fucked you'll have a nice load of come in your box!"
"Daddy! You're crazy!" she howled.
"I'm doing this," I shouted, "because I love you! If you weren't my daughter I wouldn't do this for you!"
She continued to struggle, doctor, I had no choice about what i did next. I grabbed her by the body and I turned her onto the bed. She was face down and I had my pants down completely now. I started to tear at my daughter's clothes.
I ripped off the blouse that she wore and then I tore away her skirt. That left her with nothing but her little panties since she, like most modern young girls, didn't wear any bra. I grabbed those panties and I pulled them down, baring that nice fleshy litle white ass of hers.
I had her face-down on the bed, doctor, and I knew what my responsibility was. I moved into position on her backside and I pointed my penis toward her vaginal slot.
But it wasn't right that I'd go in bareback, doctor. I'm a thoughtful father who-likes to do what's right for his daughter. So I reached to my pants pocket and I pulled out that condom.
"Will you put this on my penis for me or do I have to do it?" I asked her.
"Daddy, you're crazy," she yammered, still trying to struggle away as I held her down with one hand.
"In other words I have to put the rubber on by myself," I said.
"You can screw yourself with your fucking rubber," she snapped.
"That's no way to talk to your father, Lolly" I said sternly as I unrolled that condom onto my penis. "You better watch your language. A firl is never too old to have her ass paddled by er father!"
"Sorry, Daddy," she said contritely. "But I don't want you in my pussy."
"Well, you're going to ge me in your pussy," I said. "And you should be thankful."
"About what?"
"I'm saving you from a dreary life of lesbianism," I told her. "Now hold still. I'm coming in!"
Well, doctor, she wriggled and she kicked like I figured she would, But let's face it, I'm much stronger. I can overpower a girl of her size any day. And besides, I was doing my fatherly duty in giving her a good firm penis between the legs. Somebody had to show her the difference between right and wrong. And I was that someone.
I slid my penis forward and it slid between the lips of her vagina. I was pleased to feel that the vagina was wet down there, wet enough so that the penis didn't encounter much resistance as it tried to go in. I gave a little shove forward and then began to work the big fat prong back and forth.
"Please, Daddy," she begged for a final time. "It's not right. It's not right for you to do this."
"It's a lot more healthy than the way you were getting it from that dike last night," I said. And when Lolly couldn't answer that I pushed my penis in further. Now it was in all the way. I began to stroke.
I rhythmed my penis briskly back and forth as I held onto my daughter's hot wriggling hips. I still had her pinned face-down on that bed and I was really powering it to her from the backside now. Over and over I stroked. She began to resist less. She began to like it.
I stroked firmly back and forth and now she started to pump her pussy backwards at me with the same pace.
"Oh, Daddy," she finally started to moan. "Oh, Daddy, your cock feels so big."
"like it?" I asked.
"It feels good," she moaned.
"Then orgasm," I commanded. "Orgasm before I come myself."
She pumped backward now as briskly as I was pumping forward. Our bodies were throbbing together with that same pulsating force that any two bodies made love with. Over and over we jammed our loins together. Her ass kept pressing back to me and my balls swung wildly as I battered her pussy with my long hard prong.
"I can't hold it much longer," I warned her.
"Come, Daddy," she said. "I'm coming now."
"Now?" I asked.
"Now, Daddy. Both of us. Together! Oh, shit, together!"
Well, doctor, that's how it happened. I held her firmly and butt-fucked her as hard as I could, pressing my penis as deeply down into her as I possibly could shove it. Over and over I pumped. And when the seeds started to spurt from my long peter I pressed it as far into her as I could.
"Oh, Daddy! Oh, Daddy, you're coming!" she moaned.
And I sure was. She could feel all of my hot come as it squirted out of my prick and down into her box. She loved the feel of all that hot juice as it flooded her pussy. She pumped wildly and made me drip every drop that I could possibly work up for her.
Eventually we dismounted, doctor. I pulled my whang out of her and she slid forward and lay on the bed on her stomach. Her vagina made a farting sound as she moved.
"Oh, Daddy," she moaned. "You were so right. "A penis does feel better than a fat old dike's tongue."
"I told you so," I said. "And you're lucky I took the time and trouble to convince you."
"What would I do," she said, "without my dear, dear daddy?" And then, out of appreciation, she took my penis in her mouth and licked it completely clean....
. . . "And that was the only time you ever had sex with her?" I asked Dr. W. "That's right," he said.
"Was your orgasm enjoyable?" I asked. "How exactly would you describe it?"
"Describe what?" he asked. "The ejaculation I had in my daughter's box? "
I nodded. "Can you remember it?" I asked.
"I remember it very clearly," he said. "It was a very sharp intense orgasm. But un-like most of the sharp intense orgasms I've ever had, this one lasted much longer. I must have gotten off twelve or thirteen good hard spurts."
"That many?" I asked with some surprise.
"That many," he affirmed. "Do you know what it's like, doctor," he asked as he puffed on his pipe, "when you haven't had an orgasm for almost a month?"
I nodded.
"Well," he said, "that's what it was like."
"Thank you, Dr. W., " I said. "There will be no further questions."
CONCLUSIONS TO CASE HISTORY FOUR
The incestuous union between a father and a daughter is, of course, one of the rarest forms of relationships between a parent and a child.
There can of course be as many reasons for an incestuous union to exist as there might be a number of different forms of relationships between a parent and child. Freud discussed the relationships between fathers and daughters in Development of the Libido and Sexual Organizations as well as in Archaic and Infantile Features in Dreams. Yet the fact of the matter is that this particular case involving Dr. W. and his daughter brought two unique circumstances into play to form this incestuous union.
For example, after speaking to Dr. W. twice at length, I am convinced that much of his motivation in forcing sexual intercourse upon his daughter was out f a severely sincere wish for her not to become a female homosexual. (See Fredrich H. Jungfrau's The Adult Female Homosexual in Contemporary Society.) Dr. W., while not correct in wishing to force his own opinions upon his daughter, was obviously under the impression that his daughter would be much happier as a heterosexual than as a homosexual. Naturally, a bit of youthful experimentation among young women is both healthy and permissible, but the involvement between young Lolly and the girl named Wanda was bordering on a full fledged lesbian affair.
Thus the first circumstance of Dr. W.'s involvement was his desire to not have his daughter become a lesbian. But also involved was his attraction to his own daughter as a sexual object. Proof of this involvement was conveyed by Dr. W.'s admitted fascination with his daughter's genitalia.
Thus within the psyche of Dr. W. there was formed a certain conflict of interests. On the one hand Dr. W. wished to enjoy his daughter sexually. On the other hand, he wished to see her protected sexually.
When conflict strikes the psyche some sort of compromise must result to avoid a deeply paranoid or schizoid reaction. Freud discusses this problem in The Paths of Symptom Formation and contends that the mental anguish from this sort of inner conflict can drain a person of physical and mental energies until such an accommodation can be worked out.
Dr. W., an educated well-meaning father, managed to work out this problem very easily. He would protect his daughter and cure her of her lesbianism by having sex with her. But forcing sex upon her, to his way of thinking, was also his way of satisfying the very real incestuous desires that he now felt. The compromise, of course, dictated that he only have sex with the girl once. Dr. W. obviously believed in the old axiom, "Once a philosopher, twice a pervert."
Can the success of Dr. W.'s forced sex be measured? In one way it can be. Lolly is no longer interested in having sex with women.
Since having sex with her father, Lolly is now interested only in having sex with men. And a lot of them. Dr. W. reports to me that Lolly attends on-campus parties and often has sex with more men than she even knows the names of. She has, according to her father, increased her sexual diet to an almost insatiable level. "But fortunately," adds Dr. W., "she's no longer attracted to women."
Dr. W. terms himself as "eternally grateful" and pleased that his daughter is, thanks to the forced incest, "a completely normal young girl with a healthy sexual appetite." It would not be proper for me here to comment further on my own assessment of Miss W.'s newly discovered sexual penchants. Instead we will pass on to Case History Five where we will encounter a young woman with even stranger sexual habits.
CASE HISTORY FIVE
Miss Rona P. came to my offices in the early summer of 1974] She had heard from a personal friend that I was involved in a research project involving incest. She felt that she had a few words to offer.
"I ball my old man," she said casually when we first met. "I ball him till he's blue in the face and can't come any more."
Miss P. then lit a small cigar, puffed on it, and awaited my response.
"Your father?" I asked, making sure that she and I were both talking about the same matter. "You have sex with your father, is that right?"
"That's what I said, doc. I ball him."
"Does he force you?" I asked.
"Nope," she said. "I do it because I like to."
"I see," I said. "In other words you have a pleasing sexual relationship with hin."
"That's close to the truth," she said. "I ball a lot of guys. Usually I'm screwing with at least five or ten on a steady basis. I have a big turnover, doc. But that's the way I like it."
"I see," I said again, fascinated by the young woman who sat before me in my office.
"I'm a modern woman," she said to me. "If I see a guy who looks like he might have a good cock tucked in his pants I just make the scene and screw him. What's so shocking about that. Men have been trying to screw every good looking girl they see for years. Well, I just turn the tables. I ball every guy I'll take a liking to."
"And that includes your father?" I pressed.
"Sure," she said. "The old man is the number one guy in my life. I've always been pretty fond of him."
"Is he any good in bed?" I asked.
"For a man of his age," she replied, "he's outstanding. There's no doubt about that."
"How old is he?" I asked.
"Forty-two," she said. "And his penis measures seven and seven eighths inches upon full erection."
"Is that a guess or a--? "
"It's a precise measurement," she said. "I got him to get it up for me one day while I had a ruler in my hands. The old man is well hung, no question about hat."
"And you measured his penis accurately with a ruler?" I asked as I jotted down a few notes.
"Sure did," she said. "Look," she said as she puffed on that small cigar and crossed her legs. She wore a tight, short blue miniskirt, dark glasses and short blonde hair. Her manner was as aggressive as was her conversation and her sexual habits.
"Look," she repeated, "a ruler did the trick for the old man. But I've had guys who I'd need a yardstick to measure. I think you see what I mean, huh, doc?"
I did understand what Miss P. meant although I was convinced that she was somewhat given to exaggeration. Yet Miss P. stated that she had had-sex with over seventy men in her life and I had no reason to disbelieve her.
"May I ask your age, Miss P.? " I asked.
"I'm eighteen," she said. "And as far as you're concerned it's Ms. P." She puffed again on that small cigar. "I'm an independent woman, doc, and you better recognize that or I'll cut this interview short right now."
I assured Rona P. that I would address her as Ms. P., although for the purposes of this interview she will remain-in print-Miss P.
"Let's talk about you and your father," I said to her. "How often would you say you'd had sex with him?"
"I don't keep track of things like that," she said.
"Can you give me an estimate?" I asked. "Maybe twenty times," she said. "Over the past two years."
"That long?" I asked.
"Sure," she said. "Look. I started fucking when I was fourteen. Yet I celebrated my fifteenth birthday by having my fifteenth man. I'd always been kind of curious about my father. So by the time that I was sixteen I decided to try him."
"Curious?" I asked. "Try him?"
"Yeah," she said. "When I was a kid I read that Greek thing about the girl who fucked her father. What was her name? Electric or something?"
"Electra," I said, correcting her.
"Yeah, that's the one," she said. "Well that started me thinking about fucking my father. Way back then So when I was older and after I'd fucked a few other guys I started thinking seriously about doing it."
"But why?" I asked.
"Curiosity mostly," she said. "I wanted to know what he was like. Look, some girls are curious about how black men are as lovers. So these girls go out and fuck themselves a few black men. I wanted to know what the old man was like. So I fucked him."
"Was it hard?" I asked.
"What? His penis?" she asked. "Sure it was hard, hard as a railroad spike. What kind of question is-"
"That's not what I wanted to know," I said, clarifying the question. "I wanted to know if it was difficult to have sex with your father."
"For shit's sake, no," she said. "I just lay there and he fucked me. No sweat."
"Was it difficult to get him to agree to have sex with you?" I pressed. "That's what I really want to know. Were there, for example, any hesitations on his part about committing incest. Not every father would do it, you know."
"Oh, he was kind of surprised," she said. "But I seduced him pretty quickly. There was no big rape scene if that's what you're asking me."
"Would you care to describe it?" I asked.
"I wouldn't mind at all," she said. And Miss P. then gave me this account of how she first seduced her father. ...
. . , . like I said, doc, it was when I was about sixteen years old that I first balled with the old man. Well, I knew I wanted to do it and I'd managed to get into bed with every other guy I'd set my sights on, but I did have the idea that Pop might give me a tough time, He's a very conservative guy, doc. Very straight. Very religious. He's an investment banker and you know how straight most of those guys are.
It was a few days after my sixteenth birthday. It was really very easy. I was thinking hard about how I might seduce the old man and quickly break down his inhibitions before he really had a chance to say no.
I figured that he'd have a lot of hang-ups about screwing with his own daughter. But I figured that if I seduced him quickly and by surprise, he wouldn't have a chance to get out those hang-ups. So I knew I was going to have to work a quick shock effect on him. Well, doc, I can seduce any mart I put my mind to seducing. I've got all the right equipment, physical and otherwise.
I waited until my old lady was out of the house. It was an evening when she was gone for a while and while the old man was downstairs alone reading the evening stock market prices. I went up to my room, took my daily pill, and got ready for a bit of action.
The first thing I did, of course, was to strip completely naked.
I considered going downstairs nude, but I figured that he'd get over that shock too quickly. I had to do something that would absolutely captivate his attention, something that would make him unable to take his eyes off me. I had just what I needed to bag a really straight investment banker.
You see, doc, investment bankers love kinky sex. It's their soft underbelly. They deal with so much straight stuff that it's a real kick for them to do something out of the ordinary ... as long as someone else does the suggesting.
So I pulled open the bottom drawer to my bureau and I took out a garter belt. I clamped it around my hips and let the garter snaps hang down my legs to the top of my thighs. There I hooked the snaps onto a pair of high white stockings, stockings which rose in their silky luxury all the way up my legs to just about three inches below my bare pussy.
The garter belt was white lace, doc, and the stockings were a matching white. My skin was nice and soft and white, too. The only colors my father was going to see were my blue eyes, my blonde hair, my little brown triangle of pussy hair and the little pink nipples that I had on each tit.
Downstairs I went, wearing only that garter belt holding up those white silk stockings. The old man was hiding behind the evening paper at the time. He didn't even see or hear me coming down the staircase.
I moved right up close to him to a spot where he'd see me as soon as he put down his newspaper. Finally I spoke to get his attention.
"Hey, Pop," I said.
"Mmmmmm?" he asked, not really paying any attention.
"Hey, Pop," I repeated. "I want you to see my new outfit."
"Uh huh," he nodded. I just wasn't getting through to him. The financial page was winning.
"Stocks may be down," I said, "but your penis is going to rise through the roof as soon as you take a look at your loving daughter!"
That took a few seconds but it got through. Down went the paper. "What?" he asked. Then he saw me.
He dropped the newspaper and nearly swallowed his tongue. His eyes were looking like they were ready to blast off and pop out of his head.
"What the--! "
"like it, Pop?" I asked. "Your little girl is sweet sixteen and ready for fucking! Come on, Daddy-o! Let's see you get up the phallus for your sweet little girl!"
"Rona, I-"
He was trying to protest. So I attacked him.
I nipped at his chin and his neck as I climbed on top of him on that chair. In trying to push me away he had to grab me. And in grabbing me he put his hands all over my breasts and my hips, I wriggled into his lap and I felt his hands go over my pussy and my ass.
"Rona! Rona! What's this all about?" he exclaimed.
"It's about time for a fuck!" I exclaimed. "Come on, Pop, don't be a fag. Stick me with your stinger!"
He was still struggling with me in that chair and I knew he had certain inhibitions about fucking his own daughter. But I continued to explore him with my hands while he continued to move his hands all over me. And he was genuinely transfixed by my outfit: the garter belt and the stockings always turn on the straight banker types!
I reached to his belt and undid it. When he pushed his hands down there to protect himself I grabbed his hands. I pushed one hand to my bare right tit. I pushed his other hand to my bare muff, allowing his fingers to push through my pubic hair and feel the moisture between my pussy lips.
"Come on, Pop," I said. "You've been screwing people down on Wall Street all week. How about giving me a little screwing, too. Let me feel those fingers!"
He held his hands in the. places I'd pushed them. I wrestled him out of that chair and onto the floor. He was lying on the floor when I managed to get his pants down and pull out his prick. It was standing up like a lighthouse, doc. Hard and proud. Just right for a loving daughter to have a seat upon.
"Rona, I don't understand," he began to tell me. "I don't know why-"
"Don't even tell me about it, Pop," I said to him as I felt his fingers start to explore my pussy regions. "I've wondered what kind of penis created me for a long time. Now I'm going to find out. Just sit tight, Pop. I intend to skewer my pussy on that railroad spike you've got!"
Pop didn't put up much of an argument past that point, doc. I yanked his pants down to his knees and I ran my fingers up and down the length of his penis. He continued to play with my tits and my pussy and my vagina kept making more juice.
I was straddling him now, doctor, my pussy was above his chest and my long stockinged legs spread wide apart.
"Here's the start, Pop," I said to him. And I moved backwards and sat down on his penis.
He started to pump upwards immediately, holding his hands on my hips and my garter belt as I rode that dick of his. I moved rhythmically up and down on it until L felt it getting harder and harder. Pop pressed his hands to my tits and then held each cheek of my ass firmly as I leaned forward and embraced him. He was all set to explode and so was I....
"Did you?" I asked Miss P. as she brought her story to a pause.
"Did I what? Explode? You bet I did, doc. The sperm flew up into me and his cock made my pussy contort with some of the most delightful orgasms I've ever had. It was one bitching good come, doctor. Both of them. His and mine. Made me want to fuck him again even though he was a bit old for me."
"And evidently you did," I noted.
"What? Fuck him again?"
I nodded.
"Sure," she said. "Several times. like I told you before. Each time we try to do something a little better or a little different. That's why the sex stays good between us."
I asked Miss P. to break for a few moments while I tended to another patient who'd been waiting in another interviewing room. The other patient was a woman who had to be interviewed before her husband came home that evening. That particular woman had been having a sexual affair with her own daughter and, for obvious reasons, did not want her husband to know. Miss P. agreed to return to my office for a few more minutes later that same day.
* * *
"Just before we broke, Ms. P., " I said to her upon her return to my interviewing chambers, "you stated that you're always doing new things with your father. I think you said that this was what keeps your relationship fresh."
"That's the gist of what I said," she replied. "Why? Does that sound strange?"
"Not at all," I said. "But it does intrigue me. Can you tell me the type of new thing that you might do?"
Miss P. smiled. "It's always new things between us," she said. "You know, things that the old man and I have never done before."
I nodded. I knew what she meant but I still wished to hear about it.
"Old sex tricks for a couple of young dogs," she slyly laughed. "Are you sure that you want to spend time listening to something like that?"
"If it pertains to incest," I reminded her, "I want to hear about it. Okay?"
"Suit yourself, shrink," she said. "If you'll listen I'll talk." Miss P. then told me about an incident which had occurred three weeks earlier, the most recent time that she'd had sexual contact with her father. ...
. ... The fact is, doc, that my old man had never had a woman sit on his face. And he'd never fucked a girl through her back door, either. So the time came a few weeks ago when I figured it was time for Pop to have both thrills. After all, he wasn't getting any younger. Damn it, doc. For that matter, who is getting any younger?
Mom was out of the house as usual. That's the way it always begins between Pop and me. Mom was out of the house and I was in my room doing my homework. Pop came and knocked on the door. I knew he wanted to talk. So he sat down on my bed and he started to gab.
"You remember what we were talking about the other day? " he asked.
"What exactly was that?" I asked. Shit, doc, I talk to so many people about so many things that I can't be expected to remember it all.
"We were talking about sex," he reminded me.
"So what else is new?" I asked. "What exactly did we say?" I had genuinely forgotten.
"I was telling you about those two things I'd never done with a woman," he said. "Remember?"
"Oh, yeah," I said after thinking for a moment or two. "You said that you'd never fucked a woman through her ass-hole and you'd never had a woman plop her pussy down right smack on your face."
"That's it," he said.
"Yeah," I said. "I remember. So?"
"Well," he said, starting to beat around the bush a little. "I'm kind of tired of waiting for all those things. How about it right now?"
"Here? Now?" I asked.
"Got a better time and place?" he asked. "I'll bet my penis will feel real nice and tight up my little girl's back door. What do you think?"
Pop sure could twist a girl's arm, doc. It just so happened that I felt like getting a prick up the ass. And as for getting a big tongae in my pussy, that didn't sound so bad, either. So the next thing I knew Pop and I were undressing each other. Our clothes were soon off and we were involved in a frolic nude on my bed.
Pop lay back completely flat. His penis was standing straight up like any healthy man's does stand. I licked his dick for a few minutes and I fondled my father's balls while he fingered my pussy. Then I swung a leg over his body as I faced away from him. I held my pussy right over his face.
It was a backwards squat onto his face, but he loved it. I lowered my cunt into position slowly and he opened his big mouth. Suddenly I was aware of that tongue of his coming up to meet my big wet pussy.
"Lower it," he said. "Bring it right down on me.
I plopped my cunt right down onto his mouth, doc. I sat my pussy right down onto his face. I felt that tongue of his lapping upwards into my pussy, twisting all around in there and giving me some wonderful pussy vibrations. I liked it so much that I leaned forward and took his penis into my mouth at the same time as he was licking me. And there we stayed for almost ten minutes, doc, locked in the inverted lovers' embrace. It was dynamite, doc, dynamite!
I finally heard him trying to talk. I had or-gasmed repeatedly into his mouth. "Don't make me come," he was saying. "Not yet. Not until I get in your back door."
Well, I could have let him come in my mouth very easily, but a girl doesn't get her father in bed every day, so I sort of wanted to do whatever he wanted. So I hoisted up my pussy and pulled it away from him. I let his penis flop out of my mouth even though it was still standing up hard and proud. Then I helped him spread lubricating jelly all over his penis.
"Know how this is done?" he asked me.
"Of course," I said. "I wasn't born yesterday. I was laid yesterday, but not born yesterday, Pop!"
Pop thought that was funny. Then I got on all fours on that bed, pushed my head down onto a pillow and got very comfortable, and waited for the penis to come in through the back door.
I didn't have long to wait, doc, even though that big organ sure was worth waiting for. Pop assumed a doggie style position behind me and shoved the big head of that penis into my ass-hole. He heaved forward with a little push.
"Oh, Pop," I moaned. "Oh, you feel so big that way!"
"I am big," he said.
"You sure are," I said. "I'm ready now. Let me have all of it. And I mean every inch of it!"
Well, doc, I demanded it and I got it. He shoved that big hunk of beef all the way into me and I got almost eight full inches of Pop right up my lazy river. Was it ever heaven! I got that marvelous full feeling that you get when you have a prick up your ass. Then Pop reached around me and tooled with my clitoris while he smoothly moved that greased penis back and forth in my back door. Heaven, doc, heaven!...
. . . "You enjoyed it then?" I asked.
"You're not kidding, shrink! I orgasmed real hard when it finally came time to have the orgasms. Pop's dick felt like a hot fireplace poker back there. And he just wouldn't quit with it. I couldn't understand how he could hold his erection that long. After all, I had had his dick in my mouth for a good ten minutes before he came."
"Impressive," I said.
"You bet your sweet ass it was impressive, doc," said Miss P. "I'll tell you something else. I screw with a lot of guys but some of them I keep coming back to just because they're so good. Pop is one of those. We may do new things all the time, but Pop's always got some sort of surprise for me. A real talented cocks-man, he is. I sure am a lucky-assed girl that he's my old man."
"I see," I said. "I imagine that you've had many other enjoyable sexual encounters with him, too."
"I already told you that I'd had almost twenty," retorted Miss P. "Don't you listen, shrink?" '
"Sure, I do," I said. "But what I want to know is whether there were any particularly enjoyable encounters you might have had with him. Would it be asking too much' to ask to hear about something like that?"
Miss P. thought for a moment before replying. Then as a smile crossed her young lips I spoke again.
"Yes?" I asked. "I knew there must have been something. What was it?"
"It was an all day session of fucking that Pop and I had about a year ago," she said. "Mom was away visiting a sister who lived out in New Jersey. So while Mom was away, Pop and I fucked until I thought his penis was going to fall off."
"An entire day?" I asked, attempting to be sure about what Miss P. had said.
"A whole day," she affirmed. "Evenmore, actually. You see, we began on a Friday night at about eleven. Pop humped me in the standard stomach-to-stomach style before I went to sleep."
"In your own bed?" I asked.
"In Mom's bed actually," she said.
"Continue," I urged.
"Then the next morning when I woke up Pop came in and licked my pussy until I was ready to screw again."
"And did you?" I asked.
"You bet, shrink! I sat down on his balls and felt his penis erect up to my pussy. Then I hopped up and down on it for almost a half an hour until he came. Then during the afternoon we sixty-nined each other to orgasm."
"And that must have done it," I suggested.
"Done what?" she asked.
"Satisfied you both?" I asked.
"like hell," she said. "Those were just the appetizers before the main course."
"I see," I said. "Then there was more?"
"You bet your sweet ass there was," she said. "That evening we did a good hard fuck in doggie position. You know, me down on all fours and Pop pricking me from behind."
"In the vagina, correct?" I asked. "Not in the anus."
"Right," she said. "In the pussy. It was a real good fuck with lots of orgasms. That finished us for the day. We slept together in Mom's bed and then got up early on Sunday morning to finish off the orgy."
"What did you do?" I asked.
"We fucked stomach to stomach on the living room rug and then again outside on the back lawn. Dynamite, doc. Simply great!"
"And then were you satisfied?" I asked.
"No," she said, "but we had to stop then. "Pop's penis was sore from all that wear and tear. And Mom was due home soon. So we had to quit anyway. Well, we'd had some fun, I guess. Looking back on it, it wasn't bad at all."
"Thank you, Miss P., " I said then. "I have no further questions."
"Good, shrink," she said, "because I don't have anything else to say.
CONCLUSIONS TO CASE HISTORY FIVE
It is quite interesting to consider the incestuous aspects of Miss P.'s case for the simple reason that Miss P. and her father appeared to have committed incestuous sexual intercourse without being fully aware of the incestuous implications of what they were doing.
Let us examine the case closely. And let us bear in mind what Sigmund Freud wrote in both Transference and Resistance and Repression on the subject of obsessional neurosis.
In Resistance and Repression and in Transference Freud notes that within the psyche of each individual there are constant battles of anxiety-complexes, hysterias and neuroses. There are, in other words, constant internal struggles within each human, struggles of instincts and struggles of sexual desires.
Freud explains that two proclivities can meet on a common ground within a person and their instincts might run against each other, creating what Freud terms a serious countercharge within that person. When this happens (See also Anxiety by Freud as well as The Psychosis of Stress by Dr. Jerome Levine) the lines of resistance against each instinct are drawn. And similarly, each conflicting instinct attempts to repress the other..
Obviously a pitched battle like this within the individual can be a terrifying ordeal. And yet, as in an actual war, when one instinct finally wins out over the other, the result is that the victor all but annihilates the vanquished. Thus the prevailing emotion is enhanced and becomes all the stronger within the individual.
How then does this apply to the case of Miss Rona P., her incest and her otherwise promiscuous sexual behavior?
It can be theorized that Miss P. suffered from one of these counterchanged emotional battles, probably over whether or not she would suppress her sexual drive in the way society normally dictates or if she would give free rein to her sexual drive. Obviously, from what Miss P. revealed in her interviews at my office, this former emotion won out. And Miss P. gave herself completely to free and wandering form of promiscuous sexual activity.
Within the confines of her newly molded sexual behavior (See Watson's Behaviorism, particularly the section entitled Personality and the section entitled Are There Any Human Instincts?) Miss P. began to wonder about her father as a sexual object. Her normal behavior pattern was simply to have sex with any man she became curious about. Thus when she became curious about her father (See Freud on incest in The Sexual Life of Man and The Development of the Libido and Sexual Organizations) she simply reinforced her previously established behavior pattern by seducing him.
It was not actually a matter of committing incest to her. Rather, what Miss P. was doing was simply having still another man about whom she was curious. She was, in fact, motivated more by an obsessionally neurotic sex drive than by a drive to attain incest. Interestingly, too, Miss P. was aware enough of what she was doing to plot to seduce her father in a manner which he would not be able to resist. If Miss P.'s behavior in this case does not show premeditation, it definitely does show obsessionally neurotic sexual tendencies.
The incest then was barely a part of Miss P.'s problems. Her real problem was her uncontrolled sexual appetite which I warned her would lead to greater problems much later in life. I thus advised her to enter a period of psycho-therapy to help come to grips with this problem.
Miss P., however, was unreceptive to that idea. She rejected my opinion and denied that she had any problem at all. She then stalked from my office, never to return. Sadly, there was nothing I could do for a young woman who did not wish to be helped.
CONCLUSIONS ON THIS VOLUME
Having considered these five cases which represent an intriguing cross section of daughters and fathers who have had sexual intercourse, it strikes us that the commission of incest is often based on an assortment of motives or psychological motivations. Similarly, we might be able to draw the conclusion that the theories of the once highly regarded Edward Westermarck are badly in disrepute today. Fathers and daughters would-as Freud contends-seem to have at least a frequent pre-disposition to have sex with each other. We draw this conclusion simply from what we have observed.
Westermarck, of course, argued that the opposite was the case. Not only did he maintain that members of the same family would not actively seek to copulate, they would actually seek to avoid any form of sexual contact at all. This is not true in this modern times and it was probably not true in Westermarck's era It most-likely was never true at all, despite the fact that Westermarck is still held in high regard by many anti-Freudians.
Pavlov argued in his famous thesis called Conditioning and Response, which is now a basic text for certain advanced college psychiatry courses, that the strongest human habits are not the habits which are in any way instinctive, but rather the habits which have been learned and are then conditioned and reinforced by frequent repetition. Yet Pavlov also concedes that the second strongest habits are those which are instinctive. When considering the topic of incest, this theory leads us to some interesting speculation.
While Freud argued that the drive toward incest was instinctive in small children (and the subsequent "horror of incest" described in The Sexual Life of Man was a societal habit), it can also be seen that the incest habit, once practiced, is frequently reinforced by repetitive commission.
We have seen this in the case of several of those interviewed in this book. Only one of these subjects had intercourse with a child only once. Most had sex twenty or more times, a sexual practice which is easily able to be considered a habit.
Thus what we are dealing with here with some of these patients is a strong habit which may be instinctive but which also has been learned and reinforced.
Let us explain in greater detail since this point may be tricky.
Sexual habits beyond the basic sex drive are learned habits. In other words, when the patients in this book learned to practice incest they were learning to practice a habit which had once been considered to be a suppressed desire. And yet this habit which they were learning and which they constantly were having reinforced was also an instinctive habit, a habit which then became part of their personality with a double bond of reinforcement. That is, it shared the strength of a learned habit with the strength of an instinctive habit. Thus is it any wonder that incest was a particularly difficult sexual habit for these people to break away from since it had been so firmly reinforced in such a doubly unique manner.
It should be noted, too, that many patients find it difficult to stop their incestuous practices for still one more reason. That is, incest is simply more exciting than many other forms of sex. And why is it so exciting? Simply because it is so forbidden! Many fathers and daughters have remarked that they enjoyed incest particularly because they knew it was something that they shouldn't ever be doing.
Freud discusses this psychology in Totem and Taboo, his famous work published in Austria in 1916. For many people there is an unmistakable psychological excitement in defying the conventions of society and doing what is definitely forbidden. Anther recent example of this would be the widespread use of "soft" narcotic drugs such as marijuana. Many habitual users don't even enjoy the drug. They merely use the drug because by its use they are "thumbing their noses at society," they are doing something exciting that is forbidden and they are, in effect, "getting away with something."
Richard L. Solomon in Traumatic Avoidance Learning has written that the most volatile zone of sexual excitement in the human mind is not the genital region, but actually the brain.
In other words, according to Dr. Solomon, it is the brain which issues the excitement signals to the rest of the body. The body, in other words, cannot respond without the signal from the brain to start with. In other words, many brains issue a decree that incest will be exciting and thus it should be practiced. Then the body responds to the brain's message.
This point is interesting purely because it shows that much incest probably is committed purely because incest is a rare and proscribed form of sex. If incest were not a taboo (See Freud's famous Totem and Taboo again) it would probably be more widely practiced. Yet precisely because of this taboo upon it, some people commit incest who never otherwise would have committed it.
In other words, we might conclude that because incest will never be widely practiced, it will never be stamped out completely, either. Thus, because incest will never be eradicated completely from our society, we should strive to understand those few who do sexually partake in this most unconventional form of sex.
I stress this point because those who commit incest must be understood since they will always be among us. Understanding is the key to coping with this sexual minority which is in our midst. And understanding is what this volume is at least partially about.
Man is separated from the animals by his ability to reason abstractly and by his ability to communicate and understand. Man has been able to suppress his baser instincts from time to time through history and has been able to rise to surprising levels of tolerance and edification. This is why we must now strive to understand those who commit incest just as we would strive to understand any other minority group within our society.
Understanding is not only the key to sexual happiness, but understanding combined with communication is also the key to societal harmony. Tranquility within our society has been limited throughout the recent past. It is to be hoped then that the same understanding which is now being given to other minority groups will now be given to the sexual minority groups, such as those who commit incest.
Man has, after all, come" a long way since he and the apes descended from common ancestors. Yet there is a longer way to go, and sexual and societal understanding will be the guideposts to the proper path.
BIBLIOGRAPHY
Chester, William; Incest in North America, Potter-Regan, New York, 1946 de Grazia, S.; Errors of Psychotherapy, Double-day, New York, 1952
Durkheim, Emile; The Nature and Origin of the Taboo, Lyle Stuart, New York, 1963
Ellis, Albert; How to Live with A Neurotic, Crown, New York, 1957
Ellis, Albert; The Folklore of Sex, Grove, New York, 1961
Ellis, Albert; Reason and Emotion in Psychotherapy, L. Stuart, New York, 1962
Ellis, Albert; The American Sexual Tragedy, Lyle Stuart, New York, 1962
Ford, Clellan; Culture and Sex, Hawthorne Books, New York, 1961
Frazer, J. G.; Totemism and Exogamy, Macmil-lan, London, 1910
Freud, Sigmund; Anxiety, Norton, New York, 1938
Freud, Sigmund; An Outline of Psychoanalysis, New York, 1939
