American women have come to grips with the fact that incest is exciting. Our nation is changing and our sexual attitudes are in the forefront of change. No longer are women content to sit back and have men come to them. And no longer are women content to be the passive unaggressive sex object of the American male. The American female is becoming the sexual "hunter". She is seeking out the men she wants to sleep with. And increasingly, she is seeking out her brothers, her sons and her father.
In this second of two highly candid and deeply researched volumes about incest in America, I present for the reader's consideration the actual words of five normal, happy, sexually fulfilled American women.
Other than their nationality and their sex, these women enjoy one common bond: incest. In their own words, these five women, speaking perhaps for hundreds of thousands of other women, tell why they seduced men within their family. These women tell why, even though their husbands may have pleased them, they had to tarry in the bedroom with their brothers, sons or fathers.
Having been a psycho-sexual analyst for well over two decades, I have long wished to document my findings on the incredible rise of incest in America. Throughout the 1960's American women came to my offices and informed me that they entertained latent incestuous desires, usually directly toward their sons. More often than not, these women resisted temptation. As much as they would have liked to fulfill their fantasies, they did not.
But then with the advent of the 1970's came the liberation of the American woman. No longer did she had to passively retain her traditional role. More and more women decided to speak their minds and fulfill their fantasies. If a mother of thirty-five wanted to experiment with a fourteen year old boy, what better boy to begin with than her own. Thus as freer women became more numerous in the United States, so have the instances of incest increased dramatically.
Americans, and American women in particular, have developed a new and much more permissive attitude toward incest. In this anything-goes era American women have cashed in on the new permissiveness. The results will be found in the following pages.
This volume will concentrate on mothers who have seduced their sons. While there are numerous different styles of incestuous relationships possible for American women, it seems from the interviews I conducted that the mother-son pattern of incest is the most popular form that women seek. (For what men seek and for the actual feelings of men who have been on the receiving end of incestuous overtures, I urge the reader to study Volume One of this report. The men I interviewed pulled no punches. They spoke their minds and told me just how they feel about making love to their sisters, nieces and mothers.) So while the other patterns and combinations will obviously turn up in these pages, it is the most traditional form that will be most thoroughly focused upon here.
The interviews included in this volume were conducted in different parts of the country from late 1970 to early 1972. I spoke with almost two hundred American women who had committed incestuous acts. Their ages ranged from twelve to fifty-seven. And while their social and financial backgrounds did cut across all sectors of American society, I was surprised to discover how many of the "typical American housewives" whom I met had indulged in incestuous sex. Housewives left at home all day by their husbands, it seems, will think up some fun for the afternoon when their sons get home from school. Take, for example, Case History Two, Mrs. Buehla T. who had five sons to choose from. She chose, I might add, more than five times.
It is hoped that a thorough reading of this book will lead the reader to a more thorough understanding of the attitudes and the changing times which our country is confronted with at this critical social period. No single book or pair of books could possibly cover the entire expanse of incestuous sexual behavior in America. But it is hoped that these candid and shocking admissions of incest will lead the reader to a greater understanding of the American woman. The reader hopefully will derive a more thorough perspective on what the American woman wants, seeks and needs. And hopefully the reader might use this information to his or her advantage in his future dealings with American women.
Right now the American woman wants, seeks and feels she needs incest. It is a rising trend. These five candid women here tell why incest is a must.
CASE HISTORY ONE
"Doctor," said Mrs. Ruth L. on a bright spring afternoon in 1972, "my husband wouldn't piss on me if I were on fire."
"What exactly does that mean?" I asked.
"That means that he won't do anything for me. He thinks I'm his little household slave and pet. Well, I'm not."
"No woman should be," I said. "But how does this all relate to this incestuous affair you admit to having with your son?"
Mrs. L., an attractive woman in her mid thirties took a deep draw on a cigarette before answering my question. She was a very intense woman and a particularly attractive one, too. When she presented herself for the first time in my office she wore a bright floral-patterned red and yellow dress which had a high hemline. As Mrs. L. lay on my interviewing couch and spoke for the benefit of a tape recorder, the hem of her dress lay just six inches below the top of her legs.
She revealed, in addition to her other attractive assets, a good deal of her long shapely legs.
"My husband is the cause of the whole incestuous affair," she repeated. "He drove me to it. Just by being the bastard that he is."
"If you don't like him," I suggested, "shouldn't you consider a divorce?"
"I'd be afraid to try to divorce him," said Mrs. L. "My husband knows a lot of sharp lawyers. I'm afraid he'd get custody of Brian just to spite me."
"Who's Brian?" I asked. "Your son?"
"Brian's my son, my lover, my friend and my dearest cocksman of all times," said Mrs. L. wistfully. She paused, dragged on her cigarette again, and continued. "Brian's the source of all my happiness, doctor. When my son's penis slides into me the whole world is bright and sunny again. That's why I won't divorce my husband. The bastard would try to get Brian from me."
"It sounds as if your husband suspects your relationship with Brian," I said.
"Suspects? Hell, doctor," said the attractive dark-haired woman as she crossed her legs and looked back up at me. "He doesn't suspect, he knows."
"How does he know?" I asked.
"I've told him," said Mrs. L. proudly, "and I've showed him."
"What exactly did you show him?"
"I sat him down in a chair and had him watch Brian strip me and fuck me. He hated to watch it. It was totally emasculating for him. Just what he deserved."
I made a few handwritten notes on Mrs. L. before I spoke again. I then asked Mrs. L. if she would recount exactly how and why her affair with her son began. I also wanted to hear about the incident when she actually let her husband watch her incestuous sex act with her son. But I wanted to save that for a second interview. In the course of serious psycho-sexual analysis, all events must be taken in their proper chronological order.
"Let's go back to the beginning," I said to Mrs. L. "Will you tell me about the first time you allowed your son to put his penis in you?"
"I'd be proud to tell you about that," she said.
"Was it your idea?" I asked.
"It was," she said. She then snuffed her cigarette into the ashtray at the side of the interviewing couch. A few moments later, after she lit another cigarette, she told me this odd story of family sexual intrigue....
...Doctor when I said that my husband wouldn't piss on me if I were on fire, I meant it. He won't do anything to please me. And it's been that way for the last five or six years even though I'm just about hitting the sexual stride that all women get during their early and mid thirties.
Let me give you an example, doctor. Back about a year ago when I first started to screw with my little son I offered to perform fellatio on my husband. He accepted the offer.
My husband lay back on the bed in our bedroom and he took down his pants. I took down all my clothes and I let him finger me right on the clitoris for several minutes. It was good. I liked it. It turned me on, just as a rubbed clit would turn on any healthy woman.
He always liked to touch my private parts before I gave him an orgasm. It helped arouse him. It helped him to get his prick to inflate. I always let him touch me around the clit, across the rectum and up and down the pussy lips. He's my husband so I figured my body was at least partially his toy. I've since changed my mind about that.
After his rod had swollen up to a sizable length I brought my body down to it. I squeezed my breasts around my husband's long penis and I even pressed the hard nipples against the very little spout on the tip of his rod. He started to breath hard when he felt me do that. I knew my husband had a fixation with my nipples and my lips as well as with pussies in general. So I knew I was doing the job on him that he liked to be done.
"Oh, Ruth," he moaned to me as I pressed my firm nipple against that sensitive spot right on the vein on the underside of the penis. "You're such a good wife. You know I love that."
"Of course you love it, dear," I said to my husband softly. "That's why I do it for you."
I squeezed his big swollen penis between my rod a few more times. Our marriage had been kind of rocky recently. I knew that a few good tricks were often all a man needs to rekindle affectionate urges for his wife. So I was giving my husband the special treatment.
I released his penis from the spot where I held it between my breasts. As I straddled his knees with my bare hairy pussy right on his knees, I brought my mouth gently down on my husband's penis.
I took the big swollen head of that enlarged organ into my mouth, bringing my lips down on the big crown and moving the lips back and forth. My husband started to moan. I felt his penis give a little wriggle right in my mouth.
"Make me come," he muttered to me. "Make me come."
Having a penis in my mouth was making my own pussy hornier than a bull moose in mating season, doctor. It was bad enough that he'd touched me in the anus and on the clit. But having his penis in my mouth had really set the sparks off down inside me. But in any event, I remained where I belonged, with my mouth on his penis.
I sucked on his rod and I moved my hands to his crotch as I ground my vagina into his knee area. I licked the tip of my tongue up and down the long blue vein at the underside of his prick. And I held his balls with one hand while I wrapped the fingers of the other hand firmly around the shaft of his cock.
I could feel his penis was swelling up to its normal hard tense state that it always assumes just before he comes. I darted the tip of my tongue again across that sensitive area just below the head of his rod. His penis responded.
"I'm almost there," he moaned to me. "I'm almost ready to come."
I applied firm pressure to his balls and I sucked harder, trapping the head of his penis between my swirling moving tongue and the flat upper roof of my mouth.
"Cunt!" he yelped as his prick began to spasm. "Shit! Balls! Fuck!"
I moved my tongue firmly across his organ. Suddenly his penis came alive like a hose which someone had just turned on full blast. The first gob of come that shot out of his penis flew fast out of his nozzle and hit me right in the back of the throat. It nearly gagged me. But as the spurting gushing flow of hot fresh come continued, I sucked hard on him, just like a little naked girl sucking on a great big straw.
I drew every drop of sperm up out of that big orgasming rod of his. I sucked it all up and swallowed the warm foaming juice with two loud gulps. I knew it always particularly satisfied him when I swallowed his semen. It made him feel like more of a man.
I tooled the prick between my lips until it went completely limp. Finally he tapped me on the shoulder.
"That's it," he said. "You got it all."
"Every drop?" I asked proudly as I let his limp tool slip from my mouth and bounce to its resting place back down on top of his big hairy nuts.
"All of it," he moaned. "Every last sperm."
I was proud of what I'd done. I dismounted him and curled up next to him. Then I assumed an inverted position beside him, snuggling my pussy up to his face.
"What's this?" he asked.
"Silly," I said as I gave my bottom a little wriggle, "it's my cunt. I think you've been previously introduced."
"What are you pushing it in my face for?" he asked idiotically.
"Because I want it serviced," I said. "Do I have to spell it out for you."
"How can I service you?" he asked. "You just took my erection down your throat."
"You can jam your thumb into me and let me ride on it," I suggested. "Or you can stuff your face right up to my patch and thrust that long wriggling manly tongue of yours down into me."
He yawned. I was getting pissed.
"But no matter what you do," I said, "I've got a burning urge down in my pussy. The clit's tingling as if it had fleas. I want it satisfied."
Again he yawned. I was getting shot down after all the work I'd done on him. My husband was quickly becoming a candidate for a floating instep to the balls.
"Sorry, honey," he said as he sat up on the bed. "I'm real tired after that workout you gave me. I don't think I'll be able to take care of you."
I couldn't believe it. You see what I mean when I say my husband won't do anything for me. I took a kick at his nuts but the lout got up from the bed just a split second before my foot would have landed on target. He. never even knew I kicked at him.
"What the hell am I supposed to do?" I called after him. "I've got a pussy here that's hotter than an elephant in heat!"
"Why don't you dildo yourself by sitting on the bedpost?" he called back to me. "Or else why don't you wait for Brian to come home. The boy should be told the facts of life pretty soon anyway. Why don't you show him instead of telling him about them."
My pricky husband laughed and began to dress. He was on his way out to go bowling with his balls.
"If you stay quiet and be a good wife," he said on his way out the door, "I'll bring home one of the bowling pins. You can sit on it."
"Save it," I told him. "You can stuff it and the other nine pins up your ass. Certainly they'll all fit up there at once."
He laughed as he went out the door. And that was typical of what he's like as a husband, doctor. He takes, takes and takes but never gives. He wants sexual kicks from me but will never dish them out in return. Well, it just so happened that this particular day was the last straw as far as he was concerned. He'd pulled many stunts like this but I swore that I'd never let him pull one again.
I decided that I'd have to have a new lover. And I wanted it to be someone he'd know, someone he'd resent for fucking me. And yet as I sat there in that mussed up bed with a hot soaking pussy I knew that it would also be convenient if the new lover were close at hand. I needed a strong male right at that moment, for example. That's when the idea dawned on me that incest was the answer.
Brian!
Of course. My son would be my lover. The boy was only fourteen years old at the time. He was just old enough to really start learning about the facts of life. Oh, he knew about periods and how a woman has to go on the rag for five days a month and we'd told him what his tool was meant for. But as for an actual demonstration ... well, it was my guess that Brian was still pure.
"Shit!" I thought to myself as I sat in that bed with the longing urge burning down between the folds of my vagina. "I guess that today's the day to pop the little fellow's cherry."
The idea of screwing with my own son turned me on all the more. It was bad enough that my cunt was already soaking wet. The idea of having my own little boy on top of me pumping away with his virgin tool made me so horny that my pussy started to ache. That's when I heard the door open downstairs. Brian was home.
I got up from the bed and went to the closet. I took out a bathrobe and wrapped it around me, being careful to pull it tight so that my fourteen-year-old son could notice my boobs and my trim figure. As I pulled the sash tight around my waist I was pleased that I had no clothes on underneath. It was just the way I wanted to be: nude for my son with only one sash to undo.
"Brian, dear?" I called out as I heard the boy downstairs.
"Hi, mom," he called back to me. "Any food here?"
I went downstairs and followed the boy into the kitchen. He looked very surprised to see me in just a bathrobe. Not half as surprised, of course, as he soon would be.
"Of course there's food for my little darling," I said to him as I flicked on the kitchen light. "If you don't see what you want, just ask. I'll make you a nice meal if you want. After all, you'll need all the energy you can get."
"How come, Mom?" he asked.
"Because you and I have to talk about something very important," I told him. "And after our discussion we're going to do something together which will require a vigorous physical effort on your part."
"Gosh, Mom," he asked, "what's it going to be."
"Just eat up," I said as I fixed the boy a sandwich. "We'll discuss it after you eat."
Brian gobbled up his sandwich as I sat there and watched him at the kitchen table.
I was amazed what a young man my son was becoming. He was only fourteen but he was beginning to get a man's features. He was shaving every two days now and he was starting to sweat up his clothes the way a grown man does. His voice had become a bit lower just in the last few weeks. And, happily, I had been finding come stains on his bed for the last few months. I figured the stains were from nocturnal emissions or from masturbation. Either one was fine with me. It meant his penis was old enough to sow seeds into a woman ... a woman like his mother.
Brian gobbled a sandwich and then took a big piece of cake with a glass of milk. I watched him eat. As I watched I let my eyes take a close look at his body. I could see the firm young legs almost ready to burst out of those tight jeans he wore. And the muscles he was developing in his young arms and chest were enough to make any mother's vagina tingle a bit. But what really turned me on was when I looked to the crotch of his jeans. I noticed something that I'd never quite realized before.
His balls and his cock were clearly visible beneath the tight crotch of those tight jeans. I looked hard. His balls were big and his penis hung down like a big sleeping snake on a pair of boulders.
He looked at me quickly and actually caught me looking downward at his cock.
"Gosh, Mom," he said with an embarrassed tone of voice and with cheeks turning red. "What are you looking at me down there for." Brian closed his legs tight to shut off my view of his balls.
"Looking where?" I asked boldly, calling the boy's bluff. I stared him straight in the eye.
"Where?" he asked, repeating my own question. "Down ... down ... aw, Mom, you know where."
"I do not know, young man," I said to him in a stern maternal voice. "So you better tell me."
He was genuinely embarrassed now because he thought that he'd imagined something lewd which hadn't really happened at all. He was silent. He couldn't answer me.
"Besides, Brian," I said to him, "I'll thank you not to look at my legs the way you've been looking at them."
"Mom," he protested, "I haven't been looking at-"
I cut him off in mid-sentence. I was sitting on a kitchen chair with the hemline of my robe riding far up above my knees. He couldn't look up my robe to see the pussy, but he wasn't far from seeing it either. When I made that accusation his eyes went instinctively to my legs. I'd made him do what I'd accused him of doing.
"You're looking at them right now," I asserted. "And you can't deny it."
"Yes, but I-"
"No excuses, Brian," I said. "It's important that you not try to look up mother's robe right now. She doesn't have anything on underneath. It wouldn't be right for a son to see her bare fluffy pussy."
"Mom!" my fourteen-year-old son squealed to me in horror.
"And it's not nice to try to look down my top, either," I said. "It wouldn't be right for a boy to see his mother's nipples, would it?"
"Mom! Please!"
"My nipples are just as bare as my pussy is, Brian," I said to him in a soft, calm, motherly voice. "It wouldn't be right for a boy to see anything like that unless he'd been invited."
His cheeks were a blazing crimson by that time. I had my little son off balance and confused. I knew it was time to set in the for kill ... or the seduction, if you'd care to call it by its proper name.
"Brian," I said to him when I saw he was finished eating, "your father's away for a few hours. He went bowling. So I think while your father is out of the house we'd better go up to your bedroom and have our discussion."
"Mom, I-"
"No discussion, Brian. Come with me."
I led him up the stairs to his own bedroom. I walked in front of him as we mounted the stairs. I made a point to hold my robe tightly around me and to move my ass from side to side as I walked. I knew that it would make any fourteen-year-old curious, even about his own mother.
We entered his bedroom and I sat down on the bed. Brian, very confused,, just looked at me quizzically.
"Come sit next to me, Brian," I told my son. "It's time for our discussion."
Brian's not a stupid boy. He knew there was something going on that was different from anything that had ever happened between us before. But he obeyed his mother like a good boy. He came over and sat next to me on the bed.
"Brian," I said to him, "do you know what I've been finding on your sheets?"
He blushed. He immediately knew what I was talking about. He nodded.
"Come stains," I said, answering my own question. "You've been coming in your sleep, haven't you?"
"I-I'm sorry, Mom, I can't help it," he said. "I try to clean the sheats after I come, but-"
"There, there," I said, comforting my son by wrapping my arm around his strong young shoulders. "I'm not worried about the stains. It's not the stains at all. It's what the stains represent."
He hung his head. "I know," he said. "It's something dirty, isn't it."
"Not at all, Brian!" I insisted sharply. "Sex isn't something dirty. Sperm flying out of a penis is something beautiful because that's what satisfies women."
He remained silent.
"The problem is, Brian," I continued, "that you must learn how to direct that mighty little cock of yours."
"Direct it?"
"To its proper use," I said. "You see, that's what the wet dreams represent. That's what's beautiful."
I was talking around in circles. He didn't understand me yet. "Brian," I said to him, "if you're old enough to have wet dreams you're old enough to use the penis in its right and proper way."
"You mean...?"
"Yes, Brian," I said to him as I placed my hand on his leg just a few inches above the knee. "You have to learn how to use your penis for fucking."
He gave out with a loud gulp. I continued.
"Have you ever fucked a little girl?" I asked my son.
"No, Mom," he said, shaking his head. "I've been a good boy."
"I'm sure you have," I said to him. "But pretty soon the little girls at your school are going to want to have you insert your penis into them. If you've never done it before you'll be a washout when you're finally called upon. It will wreck you socially and you won't get any more offers for your penis."
"Golly," he said breathlessly. "What can I do?"
"You have to learn how to screw, Brian," I said to him. "You'll have to learn from a patient older woman who loves you and is willing to teach you how to fuck."
"Golly," he said dejectedly, "I don't know of any older women who love me enough to let me put my watering can into them."
I hugged him a little tighter with my arm. I also snuggled next to him so that my big left boob was pushing right against him.
"I think you're overlooking someone, Brian," I said to him. "I know of an older woman who's willing to teach you."
"You do?" he asked. "With her own body?"
I glanced down to his jeans. I could see that the big sleeping snake had awakened. There was a big loaf down at his crotch. His penis was begging to break free.
"Who?" he asked. "Who'd do that for me."
"Your mother, Brian," I said softly. "Who else?" I leaned to him and kissed the boy right on the lips. Shyly and horrified, he pulled away.
"Mom, no!" he wailed. "That's not natural."
"It is so!" I insisted. "All mothers teach their sons sex. That's the only way boys could possibly learn about it."
"But I've never heard of such a thing," he protested.
"That's because grown up people don't discuss things like that," I told him. "But believe me, Brian, most boys have their first sexual experiences with their Moms. Would I lie to you about something as important as that?"
"I guess not," he said slowly.
"Well, then," I said, setting in on him before he had time to unscramble all the ideas I was tossing at him, "as long as we've come to an agreement it's time for you to make the big plunge. Undo my sash."
"But-?"
"You heard me, undo it!"
Brian reached to the sash around my waist. It was the only thing which kept my robe closed. With his fumbling childish hands he undid the knot on the front. As my robe opened up my pussy was absolutely crazed with desire. I could not possibly get that virgin penis of my son inside my vagina fast enough.
The robe opened up. Brian's eyes nearly popped out of his head when he saw my great big breasts poke bare and free from beneath that robe. Then I watched him as his eyes drifted down to the big patch of fur between my legs.
"See the patch, Brian?" I sang. "See those vaginal lips underneath? That's where you came from and that's where you're going."
"Oh, Mom!" he cried out. I could tell he was getting turned on. And why wouldn't he? I'd kept my figure nicely and my boobs still had a youthful uplift and bounce to them. What boy, blessed with such a pretty and sexy mother, wouldn't have gotten turned on?
I stood up and let the robe slide completely down and off me. I stood nude in front of my fourteen-year-old son. His eyes were popping out of his head and his prick was popping out of his pants. That was as good a time as any for that prick to get the freedom it was lunging for.
"Now I've shown you my body, Brian," I chirped to him. "It's time for you to show me yours."
Brian protested but I told him that he absolute-ly had to obey. Then he began to strip for me. I sat on the bed as he stood in front of me and disrobed.
First he pulled his shirt up over his head and dropped it on the floor, letting it land right on top of my bathrobe. He then turned his attention to his belt as I admired the way his young body had begun to broaden at the shoulders. As I looked at him carefully I noticed that his young chest had even begun to sprout a few hairs.
He unbuckled his jeans as my pussy cried out for the penis that was about to be revealed. He unzipped himself and pulled down his pants. He stepped out of them and stood before me with nothing on except a pair of white cotton briefs.
"Brian," I said to him. "Your cock is practically poking a hole in those briefs. You must be excited."
"I ... I feel like I'm going to come," he whined.
"Don't you dare come yet," I told him gently. "You have to learn to control your peter or girls will never like you. You'll have to control it and not come until you've given my pussy an ample amount of stroking."
Brian sheepishly pulled his cotton briefs down. As the briefs passed by his crotch my son's handsome young penis sprung quickly out of that white cotton restraint.
"Oh, Brian!" I said in genuine surprise and envy. "You've got an absolutely massive tool."
"Mom, please, I-"
He was still very shy. He stepped out of his underwear and was completely bare in front of me. I reached to his hips and held my hands against his with his penis bobbing and erecting just inches from my face.
"Brian, you must never be embarrassed to show your penis to a woman," I told him. "It's a handsome tool, one that any woman would be proud to have in her. I think it's going to create as much pleasure for me as it is for you."
Brian smiled shyly. I looked up at his nervous face and I winked at him. "Brian," I said, "in just one minute we're going to fuck. But first I want to ask you something. Do you know what fellatio is?"
He shook his head.
"Then I have to show you," I said.
Just as I'd done for his father a few minutes earlier, I took my son's penis into my mouth. It seemed bigger to my touch than his father's tool had been. I concentrated on licking the underside of it and sucking on the great big thick crown which capped his rod. I moved my lips back and forth. I could feel my son's penis wriggle with delight as I moved my wet lips back and forth against his big vein. His hands came to rest on my head.
"Oh, Mom," Brian said with a cracking voice. "That feel so good."
"Of course it does, dear," I said to him as I released his penis from the soft warm captivity of my lips. "But no more for you now. You'll come too soon if we're not careful on your first time."
I climbed back onto the bed that he'd slept in ever since he was a small child. I lay out completely nude on it and my son looked longingly at my prone body. His penis was still long and hard, just in the state I wanted it.
"What now, Mom?" he asked.
"Normally you'd have to finger me to turn me on," I told him. "But not today. Today my vagina is so wet and turned on that it couldn't take one more stroke of stimulation. I just want my young man to mount me. Mother needs a prick whammed up her slot."
The boy clumsily crawled on top of me. But I was ready and willing to be as kind a teacher as I was a mother. I grabbed him with my hands to steady him and I held my legs wide apart for his penis. He was a very big boy down in the genital area, with great big balls all covered with hair even at the ripe young age of fourteen.
"Down, Brian," I told him. "Push down."
He relaxed and brought his penis straight down. I felt the big thick head of his organ poke down into the big wide slot between my legs. He gave a thrust forward and the great big long shaft started to slip deeply into me.
"Oh, Brian, yes!" I whispered into my son's ear. "Oh, your mother loves it."
"It feels great, Mom," he said in return. "It's the nicest thing my penis has ever felt."
I wrapped my long legs completely around my son's midsection and I wrapped my arms around his upper half. His bare young white chest pushed hard down on my big wobbling breasts and I began to move around beneath him.
His penis pushed deeply into me, just as deep as his father's ever had. But somehow my son's penis was special. It was beginning to give me the prelude to an orgasm. Instinctively, Brian was starting to stroke back and forth.
Within a few more seconds Brian was vigorously pumping his penis in and out of my warm slot. I was moved instantly to orgasm. I banged up and down on his prick and felt my whole motherly vagina blast forth in the greatest orgasms I'd ever had. Brian's penis was on the rise. He orgasmed me intensely before his own great big penis throbbed to its full length, spasmed and exploded its rich young load of hot gushing seeds way down into me.
I could feel his penis spasm back and forth and I could feel those hot gobs of come as they flew into me. I savored every drop that my son was able to shoot into me. I held him rigidly and even when both of our orgasms were over I wouldn't let him withdraw. Even when my son's penis was limp in me, it felt good....
...The attractive Mrs. L. crumpled her empty pack of cigarettes as she lit her final smoke. She stopped her testimony at that point and turned to me.
"That's how it happened," she said. "That's the whole story. And I couldn't tell you about anything more today, anyway. I'm out of smokes."
"No matter," I said. "Your testimony has been most enlightening. I think our next meeting will be, too."
Mrs. L. inhaled deeply and then blew a long stream of white smoke out from between her lips. We agreed that her next interview, a shorter one, would deal with her husband's discovery and witnessing of the incestuous affair Mrs. L. had initiated with her son. It was to prove a most illuminating second session.
* * *
I reviewed the notes made on Mrs. L.'s first visit before I met her a week later on her second journey to my offices.
Mrs. L. had initiated an incestuous affair with her son which had continued steadily over several months. By the time Mrs. L. came to my offices she and her son had had sex in almost every conceivable position except for anal intercourse which her teenage son was mystifyingly squeamish about.
But when an affair of this nature continues, there must be a reason, just as there must have been a reason for the very initiation of it. The two reasons involved here might be considered before the reader moves on to the actual text of Mrs. L.'s shocking second interview.
First, why did Mrs. L. have sex with her son. The most obvious answer is out of sexual need at the time. Mrs. L. was massively frustrated at the particular moment when Brian came home. She was also frustrated, according to her testimony, over the last months and even years of her marriage. Thus she sought a partner who would not only appease her at the moment but also who would be a virtual insult to her husband. Her son was the logical choice. As she herself explained, "my bastard husband got cuckholded right under his own roof without any outsider coming in."
Second, why did the affair continue? (It continues still, even at the press time of this volume.) Simply because every day it continued was an added insult to the man she disliked. The fact that Mr. L.'s wife was making better love with her son than with him was a daily insult to Mr. L. That was exactly how Mrs. L. had planned it.
How did Mr. L. come to witness what was going on in his own house? Mrs. L. described that event in her second interview, just as we'd planned.
"I wanted my prick husband to see it happen," she said to me as she chain smoked cigarettes again. "I wanted him to see that my pussy wasn't his territory any more and I wanted him to see that his own teenage son was more of a man to me than he was."
"So you showed him the actual act?" I asked. "You let him watch?"
"Exactly," she said. "But I wanted him to watch from a spot he couldn't interfere from. That took a little doing."
Mrs. L. described what she did. It was one of the oddest yet cleverest sexual schemes ever described to me....
...After I'd been making love with my son on a regular basis, I began to poison his mind as best as I could about his father. I didn't tell any lies, doctor. Just the truth. That was enough.
By the time my son had become accustomed to coming to me for his sexual gratification, I had filled Brian's head with all the true stories about how my husband abused me and failed to satisfy me. Brian never said a word to his father about any of these things. But by the time I wanted to use Brian to get back at the old man, I knew Brian was ready to go along with me.
My plan was very simple, doctor. I told my husband that I had a new lover and that I wouldn't be needing the services of his flabby old penis any more.
My husband reacted with the expected comment. "Bullshit!" he said. "You'd never be able to get anyone interested in that middle aged pussy of yours. My cock is the best cock you'll ever be able to get now."
"Nonsense," I said arrogantly to him. "I have a virile young man to give me orgasms now. He's young enough to be your son."
"Maybe he is," chortled my husband. "If I thought Brian was old enough to get his prick up I'd be worried."
"You'll see," I said to my husband. "And I mean that quite literally. You'll see."
My husband then went into his shower, just as I'd known he would. He was walking right into my trap and he hadn't the vaguest idea.
You see, doctor, I needed a place for my husband to be able to see me fucking but from where he couldn't break free and get at us. So I did a little work around the house. A little home improvement, you might call it.
What I did was to go into his bathroom and tamper with the door to his shower stall. That shower stall had a nice big strong door made out of a clear but durable fiberglass. You could see right through the shower door in other words. You could see both in and out. The door could be opened from the outside or from the inside. Well, it could until I fooled around with it.
I fixed the door to his shower so that it would open only from the outside. Once he pulled the door closed behind him and went into the shower, the door would lock. And I mean lock. King Kong couldn't have kicked it open from the inside.
So when my husband went nude into that shower that day and closed the door behind him, he'd locked himself behind a sheer piece of fiberglass that he could see in and out of.
By the pleasantest of circumstances, when he looked out of that stall he could look through the bathroom door and see the beds in our bedroom. Need I say more, doctor? Here's exactly what happened.
When my husband went into that shower and closed the door behind him I knew my planning was working perfectly. I then used the opportunity to show my husband what I wanted him to see. As he began to lather up in the shower I went and got Brian from his room. Brian, who was expecting me at the time, was wearing only a scant little pair of bikini briefs that I'd purchased for him. The briefs had sort of red and blue alternating stripes and they clutched his balls tightly, making him out to really have a husky pair of gonads ... which of course he did have.
"Brian, dear." I said to my son. "It's time. Let's go."
I took my son by the hand and led the fourteen-year-old through the upstairs hallway and right over to the bedroom where my husband and I slept. Then we went into that bedroom.
"Is Dad in the shower?" Brian asked me.
"Yes, dear," I explained. "He's locked in just as I planned. Now we can show him what we want to have him see."
I unhooked my bra quickly after stepping out of my dress. Then I pulled the bra off and then kicked off my panties, standing naked with my son. Before he took down his own little striped bikini briefs, he embraced me and pushed his young face to each of my nipples, sucking them affectionately. My son seems to have a fixation about my breasts, doctor. But I guess it's normal for a boy to be concerned with his Mom's boobs. Isn't it?
When I was completely nude and when Brian was pushing those sexy little wet lips of his right to my tits, I rubbed my bush against his crotch to start the turning on process.
Instantly when I rubbed my pubic bone against his crotch his own penis began to spring to life. I could feel the big hard dork as it popped up from within his briefs. My vagina, feeling that, started to ooze.
"Brian," I giggled to my son as he played with my breasts between his lips, "let's hurry. We want Dad to see us."
I tried to pull away from my son, but it was difficult. He pushed his hand right between my legs and began to rub my pussy vigorously, poking one of his fingers through to my clit. His fingertip stroked incessantly across the sensitive head of my clitoris, creating more joy down there than any woman could be expected to hold.
"Brian," I moaned again. "Please! You're getting too good at that." With a masterful effort I managed to pull myself away from him. I knew however that it wouldn't be for long.
Brian pulled those briefs of his down and let his great big penis come erecting out of his crotch. His organ was fat, long and handsome, just as it always is. The mere sight of my son's staff with its husky big nuts swinging beneath it was enough to make my nipples harden into a stone-like state. But then I took Brian's hand and led my nude son into the bathroom where my husband was showering.
With my husband standing nude behind that clear shower door, Brian and I stood nude, arm in arm, on the other side. Then I tapped on the door to get my husband's attention.
"What the hell is it?" he answered. "You know I don't like to be disturbed in the shower."
"I want you to meet my lover," I said boldly to him. "Then I want you to watch us fuck!"
He cleared the water and soap away from his eyes and looked out at us.
"Holy shit!" he said. He saw me standing there with my son. Brian's penis was erect, as were my nipples. "Ruth! You pervert!" he roared. And he reached to that inside shower doorknob to try to open it. But the doorknob wouldn't budge.
"You're locked in, dear," I said to my husband in my cattiest voice. "You'll just have to stand there and watch until I decide to let you out. Hope you enjoy the performance as much as I'm going to."
"Ruth, you're a bitch pervert!" he thundered at me as he pounded on that fiberglass door and tried to break free from his wet captivity. "You could go away on a sodomy rap for seducing a fourteen-year-old boy!"
"He's not a boy," I called back. "He's the first man I've ever had in this house."
My husband kicked at the inside of that door until he hurt his foot and started to jump up and down on it. Then he was forced to quietly watch Brian and me as we sat down on my husband's bed and began to kiss. I pushed my bare breasts to my son's chest and out of the corner of my eye I saw that my husband, standing in that shower stall, had a huge erection at his crotch. Well, I figured, this is one time that the bastard is going to have to satisfy himself with plain soap and water.
My son and I kissed passionately on top of the bed. Our mouths opened to each other and my long darting tongue poked between his lips so that I could explore again the inner sanctums of his mouth.
I felt my nipples vibrating against his young body as his mouth broke from mine and as his lips began to kiss the side of my neck and work downward.
I began to lie back as my son kissed the area just below my Adam's apple. He was kissing his way downward on my body. When a son does that to his mother, only one place can be the final resting place of his tongue.
He kissed the area between my breasts as my husband leaned against the clear shower door and watched the proceedings in astonishment. His penis was sticking right up against that door. Had I wanted to look at it I could have seen it very clearly.
But I was occupied with better things than my husband. It made me feel good to know the bastard was watching us, but I was more concerned with getting my son and myself satisfied. I cupped my hands beneath my breasts as Brian licked the area between my tits. I offered my nipples to him the way other women might offer their sons a piece of melon.
"Do you like them?" I asked my son as I cuped my hands beneath my breasts.
"Oh, Mom," Brian replied in a breathless childish voice. "They're so rich and full and ripe. I just think they're tremendous. A tremendous set of boobs!"
"Oh, Brian," I cooed to my son. "You know just how to please a woman."
He moved his mouth from between the breasts right to my nipples. He alternated from one nipple to the other, squeezing and kissing with his big wet lips. Finally he began to concentrate on the left nipple while his hand toyed with the right one.
I heard a bang in the bathroom and then another yelp of pain. My husband had kicked that door again and hurt his foot in the same place. Brian and I laughed about his father's plight. Dear old Dad was genuinely comical the way he'd walked right into such a well planned trap.
Brian then started to move his lips lower on my body again. He kissed his way right down the fine line of fine hair at the center of my tummy. He moved down to the navel and blew warm air into it, stopping also to french it quickly with his tongue. Then his mouth moved onward.
I could feel the boy's breath as he neared my pussy. The tip of his nose nicked the tip of my bush. Then his whole hot mouth was brushing across the top of my pussy hair. Then my son took one sexy long hot slurp of my vagina, running his tongue from the clit all the way down toward the rectum, and then tried to tease me a little more.
As I held my legs wide apart hoping for him to plunge that big warm tongue of his directly into my crack, Brian instead started to circle my pussy with his mouth by kissing all around my inner thighs, just inches from my muff.
"Oh, Brian, that's not fair!" I yelped as he did that. It wasn't fair. The way he was going he was going to make me orgasm before I could even let his penis come in. That wouldn't be right. I wanted to orgasm beneath my son's penis right when my husband was watching most intently.
I wriggled a trifle more and my son's mouth pressed right into my muff. His big long tongue slipped between the lips of my vagina and he started to swirl it within me, caressing the inner walls of my vagina with his flat side of his tongue.
I moaned to him and moved my position on the bed until I had brought my head around to his genitals. As my husband watched and as Brian continued to massage my clitoris and vaginal canal with his tongue, I took the big thick swollen head of his penis into my mouth.
I moved my lips back and forth on it until it was as hard as a railroad spike. Then I moved my tongue up and down that long blue vein on the underside. It turned my son on so much that he was practically trying to shove his whole chin into my gaping slot.
My son and I lingered sweetly over our sixty-nine as my husband cursed at us from the shower. He was furious that we were fucking. The fact that we were enjoying it so much and taking our time about it made him even madder.
Then, as I felt my son's penis start to rise toward its maximum length, I knew it was time for the insertion. I let Brian's penis slip from my lips and I pushed his face gently away from my pussy.
"Be sure you mount me in view of Dad," I cooed to Brian. "That's the whole point of fucking right now."
I lay out on the bed with my legs apart and my head propped up on a pair of big fluffy feather pillows. Brian, my son with that incredibly hard erection, crawled right up on top of me.
As I opened my arms and legs for my son he kissed each of my nipples as he got up on top. Then he brought his mouth up to mine. His lips smelled of the pussy he'd been licking. But that didn't bother me. I think boys are sexy when you can taste that they've been muffdiving.
Brian's penis slipped into me. He moved the head of it back and forth at the entrance of my vagina, spreading the rich sticky wetness all around the opening of my slot. Then, as my husband pounded on that shower door again, my dear little Brian shoved me another good hard thrust of cock.
This time his penis shoved all the way in for the full score. I gasped in happiness as I felt that long shaft push its long thick frame down into me.
"Oh, Brian," I grunted. "Piston me! Really piston me!"
I felt Brian's young loins start to accelerate and drive his cock deeply down until it whammed up against my cervix. Then his loins would rise and fall again as he'd repeat that wonderful plunging motion that just torments this mother's poor vagina.
He orgasmed me hard. I felt my nipples contracting and spasming and tightening again as they rode against his chest. His penis would not stop. Since I'd taught him to fuck he'd learned every little move and thrust which I loved. I orgasmed hard and during one of my best blasts I opened my eyes and stared at my hard-pricked husband standing in that shower. My husband wasn't banging on the door any more trying to get out. Instead he'd worked up a heavy lather on his penis with soap and water. As far as I could see, he was jerking himself off.
Brian's penis exploded with a come that could have shot all the way through me and flooded out my rectum. Doctor, I'm not the type of woman who makes a lot of noise while fucking, but my son's penis made me start to squeal like a teenage girl getting her hymen popped.
His hot gobs of come spurted way down into me and I could feel every long lovely gush that my boy got off. It was heaven to make love with my son in front of my husband, doctor. And my intense orgasms proved it....
...Mrs. L., chain-smoking still, brought her story to a conclusion at that point. I spent the remaining time of the interview session asking her a few pertinent questions.
"What about your husband's later reactions?" I asked her. "How did he feel about what had happened?"
"There wasn't much he could do, doctor," Mrs. L. explained. "He said he wouldn't fuck me anymore and I told him that that was fine. I didn't want to fuck him and I already had a new lover."
"Then what did he say?"
"He said he'd go out and ball with every hooker and stewardess he could find. I told him that he might just as well since he already was doing it anyway."
"It sounds then that you got the best of him," I then suggested to Mrs. L.
"Doctor," she replied. "Did the Indians get the best of Custer at Little Big Horn?"
"Thank you, Mrs. L.," I said. "No further questions."
Obviously Mrs. L. had used incest as a tool to destroy her husband in return for the way he had destroyed her marriage, at least according to her version of the story. Mr. L. was a broken man by the time that he was later released from that shower. What he had witnessed was too demoralizing for him to fight back. Instead he remained nasty and irritable within their marriage. But he refused a divorce since he wanted to deprive his wife the excitement of living alone with their son.
How did incest add to Mrs. L.'s sexual fulfillment? She testified that the concept of incest was always in her mind as she had sex with her son. She explained that the extra illicitness linked with incest was something which often stimulated her to extra orgasms during the actual sex act. But it was also clear that Mrs. L. had committed incestuous sex with her son primarily for tactical and logistical purposes. Incest was merely an extra and exciting part of the act.
To get an idea of what incest can fully mean to a woman, however, one must consider the situation of Mrs. Buehla T. of Case History Two. Mrs. T. is a happily married woman who had (in the full sense of the word "had") five sons. Her story follows. And among women with so many boys in the house, the type of story is not uncommon.
CASE HISTORY TWO
"I was married young, doctor," Mrs. Buehla T., thirty-four, said to me on her initial conference at my office. "I had to get married, if you know what I mean."
"You were pregnant?" I asked. "That's right," she said. "It was from fucking with my boyfriend out behind the bushes after my junior prom in high school."
"You became pregnant on that night?" I asked. "It was very romantic," she said with a sigh and as she reminisced about her past. "I was wearing a long gown for one of the first times in my life. My boyfriend had a tuxedo on for the first time. He liked the looks of me so much and I liked the looks of him that we stopped dancing and started fucking."
"Early in the evening?" I asked. "It was about nine in the evening," Mrs. T. recalled. "We'd been dancing for about an hour. Then my boyfriend whispered a suggestion in my ear and I said yes. We escaped from the chaperones and went out to those bushes behind the house where the dance was being held. I couldn't get completely undressed because I had that gown on. And he couldn't bother to take all of his clothes off either."
"Then what happened?" I asked.
"He just let his pants go down to his knees, baring his crotch and revealing that exquisitely big stick of his. Then I pulled my panties down and off while I pulled the hem of my skirt up over my waist. That gave him a clear shot at my pussy."
"And then you made love?"
"In a few minutes," she said with a sigh. "He fingered me for a few minutes and then he kissed my pussy. I was only seventeen at the time. It was the first time a guy had kissed my pussy."
"Did you enjoy cunnilingus?" I asked. "Even your first experience with it."
"Oh, yes, doctor," Mrs. T. said. "How could any normal woman not love cunnilingus? It's one of the grandest things that can happen to a woman. Sometimes I like tongues even more than I like penises."
"Continue," I urged.
"There's not much more to tell, doctor," she said. "I got down on the ground. I even still had my stockings on. My bare ass pushed against the ground. I was only nude from between my thighs and my belly button. But that was enough. My boyfriend was on me like a big cat, pronging me with that long dick of his. I remember how hard he came. I could feel sperm tingling in my cunt for hours afterwards."
"And that's how you became pregnant with your first child?" I asked.
"That's right," she said. "That little fling out behind the bushes made me pregnant with young Chuckie. He's seventeen now."
"And he was the first of the sons that you've had sex with?" I pressed.
"That's right," she said. "It all began about a year ago."
"And am I correct in assuming, Mrs. T., that after little Chuckie was conceived you married your husband."
"Yes," she said slowly, "but I'll lay it on the line to you, doctor. I married my husband but I didn't marry little Chuckie's father."
"You didn't?"
She smiled. "I know you must be surprised," she said. "A lot of people are surprised when I tell them this story and reveal that little Chuckie isn't my husband's son. I didn't want to marry the guy who banged me with little Chuckie. He was only my number two boyfriend at the time. I married someone else."
"I see," I said. Mrs. T. continued. "I was just balling with Chuckie's father for two reasons. One he had a good prick and I wanted to feel it inside my slot. And second, since the guy who I later married was afraid to try to fuck me, I was trying to make him jealous. I wanted him to know that if his rival could get some pussy off me so could he."
"Did he take the hint?" I asked.
"He sure did," Mrs. T. said. "By the next morning my husband-to-be had discovered my 'indiscreation' of the previous night. I told him that if he were man enough he'd try to get even by making me ball him twice on that next evening."
"Did he?" I asked.
"He screwed the daylights out of me with that strong young prick of his," Mrs. T. said. "A month later when I missed my period I realized I was pregnant. I counted back and realized it was the first guy who'd made me pregnant. So I just told the second guy that he'd done it. He married me and he's never suspected a thing in seventeen years."
"Interesting," I said. "But can you tell me whether this has anything to do with incest?"
Mrs. T. smiled. "Everything has something to do with incest," Mrs. T. said. "I'll explain it all to you."
I listened as Mrs. T. told her story....
...I remember when my first son Chuckie was very young. You know, maybe about five or six years old. He was a handsome little boy then and I remember several times when I'd see him naked.
That's only natural, doctor, for a mother to see her son naked. But I found it particularly enjoyable.
I can remember days when my husband was at work when I got the boy-and his other brothers later on did the same thing for me-to play with my nipples and my vagina. He couldn't satisfy me sexually, of course. But as a mother it thrilled me to have this little person whom I'd created playing with my nipples and my vagina.
Sometimes, when my husband permitted it, we let the boys sleep naked in our beds with us. That was lots of fun. We'd even let them lie there naked with us while we were fucking. We wanted the youngsters to understand sex from childhood. We wanted them to understand that sex was something beautiful, not something sleazy that people shouldn't be looking at.
Well, doctor, there was one aspect to the whole thing that I wasn't being completely open and candid about. There was one deep dark secret that I was keeping to myself, other than who Chuckie's real father was. What I never told anyone was that I had incredible and unrequited fascination with the young penises that my five sons had.
I guess it's silly and maybe it's even a little bit sick. But I was just inebriated by the young cocks those boys had. I liked to touch them down there and I liked to fondle them. When the boys were too young to understand I used to kiss them down there and lick their young wangs with my tongue or lips. I couldn't get enough of those young penises.
What was the result of my fixation with those young rods? Very simple, doctor. I knew that sooner or later I was going to want at least one of my boys to fuck me. It was that simple. There was just no way that I was going to survive in the same house as five strong young penises without sampling some of the merchandise.
That's why I guess it was inevitable when I finally got Chuckie, the first of my sons, to ball me. I'll tell you exactly how it happened.
Chuckie was sixteen at the time. I remember that the other four boys were tucked safely away in bed one Thursday night. I was up late watching a mystery movie on television. My husband, who had to get up early the next morning to go to work, was already in bed, too. He was snoring so loud that he sounded like a cross between a buzz saw and a lawn mower.
As for Chuckie, he had been out on a date with this very pretty young girl named Susie. Susie had stopped by the house earlier that evening with Chuckie before they'd gone out on their date. Little Susie, who was sixteen also, had been wearing a tight little sweater which I could actually see her nipples through. All the young girls these days have stopped wearing bras and I know that it drives the boys crazy. I've noticed for example that since the local schools have allowed the girls not to wear bras to school, my sons come home and masturbate more. Well, Susie also was wearing a tight little pair of orange hot pants that did everything except expose her little charms. I didn't mind, but I began to wonder whether my innocent little Chuckie wasn't going to get some pussy off her that night.
Actually, I knew my Chuckie wasn't as innocent as he looked. I found a pack of three rubbers in his desk drawer in his room one time. I kept track on them to see when and if they disappeared.
The rubbers just stayed right where he'd hid them right up until that night. Then, as Susie waited downstairs and talked with me, Chuckie went up to his room. After he'd left with her again I went up and checked on the rubbers. They were gone.
Want to know how all this added up to incest, doctor? Here's how.
I was certain that Chuckie was probably going to use all three of those condoms on her that night. So I waited up and watched television until Chuckie came home. I wanted to see the smug satisfied look on his face when he came back in the door.
But I got a surprise. When he came back in he wasn't so smug or satisfied any more. In fact, he looked downright dejected.
"Hi, Mom," he said to me quickly as he came in the door. "I'm going up to bed."
I could tell. Something had gone wrong on the date. Then I figured it out. He hadn't gotten laid, even though he had expected to. No wonder the poor boy was disappointed. Anyone who looks forward to screwing and then gets stiffed would be disappointed.
I watched my handsome sixteen-year-old son walk up the stairs. For some reason I started to get those old feelings back about fucking with my sons. And some strange bit of women's intuition began to tell me I should follow young Chuckie up to his room.
Without his noticing me I walked up behind him as he went upstairs and went to his room. He left the door open as he went into his room and lit the room light. Then he reached into his pants pocket. He pulled out a small red packet which I immediately recognized as the rubbers he'd kept in his drawer. Then he took his shirt off.
When I watched him reveal his handsome strong young chest and as I considered the fact that he carried rubbers with him, could feel my vagina begin to cry out with longing. I was ashamed of myself to admit the feelings that I was having. Back when the kids were young it was okay for me to fantasize about fucking with them. Back then it was just a vague dream. There was no reality to it. But now ... well, now it was not only possible but increasingly probable. As I looked at the muscles in his powerful chest and arms I was again ashamed of the urgent feeling down in my vagina. I was ashamed, but I wasn't exactly running away from him either.
He sat on the bed with a dejected look still on his face. I knew the moment had come for me to make my move.
"Chuckie," I said to him as I stood at the door. "From the looks of things your date didn't go too well tonight."
He was surprised that I was there. He sprang to his feet and tried to act like everything was okay.
"Gosh, no, Mom," he tried to say cheerfully. "Everything is fine. Just fine."
"Now, Chuckie," I said as I entered the room and closed the door behind me. "You know as well as I do that that is a big crock of shit. Isn't it?"
He'd never heard me talk like that before. But I was about to start treating my sixteen-year-old son as an adult, so why shouldn't I speak to him like one?
"Mom, I don't know what you're talking about," he tried to say. "I-"
"What's that little red packet?" I asked, motioning toward the packet of condoms that he'd tossed onto the desk to his left.
He grabbed it and stuffed it in his pocket. "Nothing, Mom," he tried to say. "Just a ... a good luck charm. It's nothing."
I held out my hand. "Give it to me," I said coldly.
"But, Mom, it's-"
"Give it!"
He slowly reached into his pocket and took out the packet. He handed it to me. His face was the color of the sails in the sunset as I took the packet of rubbers from him.
"Golly, Mom," he said as he hung his head. "You really know how to embarrass a guy."
"Embarrass? Bullshit!" I said. "You act as if I'd never seen these before." I looked at them closely. "However, I am a bit ashamed of you. You'd think that if you were going to go out and screw you'd buy the good expensive brand of rubber. These things are about as usefull as putting an empty ballon over your peter."
"Mom!" he whined.
"And as for a good luck charm," I said as I counted the three condoms out of the pack, "you ought to go back to carrying a horseshoe. These obviously didn't bring you much luck tonight because you thought you were going to get laid and you didn't."
He gasped. Boys always think that their mothers are innocent do-gooders who sit around all day thinking of housework and planning to make peanut butter sandwiches and spending five days a month sitting on their rags. Well, doctor, that's a myth. Moms know what's happening and they know about the penis action that's available to them. Chuckie found that out that particular night. And he found it out in a very enjoyable way.
"Chuckie," I said to him next. "Why don't you just admit it. Your girlfriend stiffed you."
He sat back down on the bed. As I looked at my son's crotch I could see how his penis was hard within his pants. I marvelled at the way it pressed up within his fly. Obviously the boy took after his father. He had a sizeable chunk of meat down there.
"Okay, Mom," he said. "I guess you guessed it.
I wanted pussy from Susie tonight. But she wouldn't give it to me."
"Did she let you do anything?" I asked my son as I sat down next to him on his bed.
"She was tighter than fish pussy tonight," he said to me. "I wanted her to kiss my penis and she wouldn't do that. Then, as a last resort, I asked her if she'd give me a handjob. Do you think she'd even do that?"
"Nope," I guessed.
"Right," my teenage son complained. "She wouldn't. She wouldn't even jerk me off with her hand."
"Disgraceful," said I. "If she were a daughter of mine I'd tell her a thing or two. How is she ever going to get a man who pleases her if she won't even give out a few samples of her feminine work?"
"She's a nice piece of ass, too," he continued. "She's got the body I'd like to get into. But she's stingy with it. She wouldn't let me do anything."
He sighed and continued. "Every girl as least gives out handjobs," he whined again. "Hell. I've been out with her twice before. It's not as if she hardly knows me or anything like that."
"Poor Chuckie," I said to him. "I think that girl was very unfair to you. Your poor penis must be screaming for a come. And your balls must be aching with all that juice they brewed up but weren't allowed to shoot out."
"Golly, Mom," he said slowly. "You guessed it. You really understand what a guy wants and needs."
"I certainly do, Chuckie," I said to him. "It's very obvious that you need a good taste of cunt!"
"Mom!"
"And where your girlfriend failed you, Chuckie," I said to him as I started to unbutton my blouse, "I want you to know that your mother is not going to fail you."
"Mom!" he roared again.
"Don't get upset, Chuckie," I said, "I've been planning to get you in bed with me for a long time. I think that tonight's the night when you really need it."
The color of the boy's face went from flaming crimson to ashen white within seconds. He realized that I was deadly serious about his penis. I wanted it. I opened by blouse and he looked in and saw my pink laced bra covering my big bosoms.
"I'm still a very young woman," I said to him.
"Thirty-three is among the best ages a woman can have. See this laced bra?"
He nodded as I took off my blouse and showed him the expensive bra that covered and held my jugs.
"The bra matches the pink panties, Chuckie," I said to him. "And the panties cover one of the nicest pussies that you or your brothers will ever taste or sample. At age thirty-three my pussy packs a wallop that could satisfy a bull."
"Gosh, Mom," he giggled as he watched me unbuckle the belt which held my skirt up, "did you ever try to do it with a bull?"
"I had a dog once before I met your father," I answered him honestly. "But right now I'm not concerned with bulls. I'm concerned with my son. Take down your trousers."
"M-my trousers?" he asked.
"Don't play shy," I demanded. "You've probably shown your prick to dozens of girls by now. There's no shame in showing it to your Mom."
Chuckie slowly took apart the buckle at his belt. I was far ahead of him. As he slowly worked on that belt buckle I opened my own skirt at the waist. I lowered it and took it off. Then I slid my stockings down as the boy pulled down his own fly.
I saw he was wearing a pair of red boxer shorts under his pants. There was a big slit at the crotch of those boxer short, a slit that his penis was bulging under and was practically ready to pop out of. As he pulled his trousers down his legs and off I removed my stockings. Then, clad only in my pink panties and pink bra, I sat down next to him.
He had only those boxer shorts and his socks on. I leaned over to him and kissed him on the cheek.
"Chuckie," I said to him slowly, "does your penis need satisfaction?"
"It's been so hard for so long that it's really aching, Mom," he said. "I really needed pussy from Susie tonight. I was counting on it."
"You won't be disappointed, Chuckie," I answered. "You'll get better pussy than Susie could have given you. The pussy you'll get from me is cockwise and experienced. It's not the common type of pussy that a boy normally has to be content with."
My son wrapped his arm around my shoulders. I virtually melted in my son's strong arms. "Mom," he said. "How can I ever thank you."
"Fucking is its own reward," I said to him. "Write that down and don't forget it."
He turned fully to me and our lips met. We kissed deeply. It was a passionate kiss that few mothers ever can experience with their sons. It searched me deeply and my pussy was watering from it.
"Chuckie," I whispered. "Feel me."
His hand went down to those pink silk panties of mine. His exploring young fingers slipped beneath the panties and were soon prowling through that rich bush of mine. I moaned as my son continued to turn me on enormously. His forefingers prowled deeper into the vast expanses of my bush until his longest finger-that handy center one-found its way to my slot.
"Oh, Chuckie," I moaned to my son. "Just another inch and you'll have your mother's clitoris."
His finger searched forward another inch. Then it firmly came to rest on that little lump which was swimming in the upper regions of my vaginal crack. His firm fingertip pressed against the clit and soon was swirling around it with deep soothing motions. It made me think of my husband and my other four sons. What a lucky woman I was to have six penises available right beneath my own roof.
"Chuckie," I mumbled to him deliriously after a few minutes of his sensual rubbing down in my private area. "This just isn't right."
"What's not right?" he asked.
"What we're doing," I said, teasing him a bit. "It's just not right to do this."
"But Mom," he said as he almost began to draw his finger away from that magic little spot.
"It's not right to do this with our underclothes still on," I said. "They should be off so that we can see our bodies. Seeing is almost as good as touching and feeling, you know."
He smiled and he kissed me on the lips again, his tongue pressing through his lips until my tongue came out to meet his. Then we went to work on the few little patches of cloth that had covered us.
I let my son unhook my bra from behind my back. Then as my bra slid down my arms and off my big breasts I turned to show my boobs to my son.
"Shit, Mom," he said with a big contented smile. "They sure are big."
"Of course they're big, dear," I said to him. "When it comes to boobs, the biggest are usually the best."
He stood up and hooked a thumb into the waist of those red boxer shorts of his. Then he pulled them down. I saw that big mat of coarse hair beginning to appear and then I saw the whole mass of my son's genitalia.
"What a fine looking young man," I remarked to him as he showed me his big rod and the balls which swung beneath it. "A very handsome young man."
"Now what about you, Mom?" he asked as I sat there with bare breasts but still with my panties on. "How about showing me your pussy?"
I winked at him and slowly began to take off my panties. Through the sheer material of those panties he had been able to see the dark triangle where my tuft was. But he became all the more excited when I actually pulled those panties down.
His penis rose and twitched when he actually laid eyes on my bare bush. But I didn't let that big tool of his just hang there unattended. I moved my hand to it and started to stroke his penis across the underside of the phallus. Chuckie liked that. He told me so.
Well, doctor, I was so wet that I couldn't wait much longer for my son to become my lover. I pulled the blankets down and off his bed and I got in. I lay on my back with my big wobbling boobs facing up to tempt him. I reached up to my son and pulled his strong young teenage body down on top of me. He came down with his lips pressed to mine and his penis resting against my thigh.
He stimulated my clitoris a bit more and then it was time for penetration. I lay there with my legs apart as my son moved his hard manhood from my thigh to the big wide slot between my legs. The head of his penis started its way in. Then he whammed the whole shaft into me and began to pump virgorously as I lay there with my ass arched up to meet his thrusts.
His long hard prong whammed vigorously in and out of me. I was going crazy with the way he was fucking me. Normally by husband starts me off slowly and works on up to the more frantic and fast thrusts. But my son had started out at something like three pumps a second. It was the first time in years that I'd enjoyed the vigor of a teenage boy. My bush and slot went crazy beneath my son's sharp pulsating thrusts. I was orgasming within a few seconds after starting. And when Chuckie's penis finally gushed its hot spermy load into me, I was able to blast my pussy off into a long lovely sustained orgasm, an orgasm which shook my body from top to bottom and which made my nipples as hard as little ice cubes. That's what a good cocksman my son was....
...Mrs. T. fell silent as she concluded her story about the seduction of her oldest son. Due to tight scheduling on that particular day I already had another patient waiting-a middle aged man who liked his two teenage daughters to ride naked on his back while kicking him in the ribs with their heels-and had to conclude Mrs. T.'s appointment almost immediately. She did, however, agree to return for a second appointment before answering a few final questions in the seconds that remained in our first session.
"Let me ask you this, Mrs. T.," I said to her. "What appealed to you most about having sex with your son? Was it the fact that you'd realized a long latent fantasy? Or that you were doing something illicit? That he was a good lover? Or perhaps that you just enjoyed having a vigorous young man again?"
Mrs. T. smiled at my question. "Doctor," she replied, "I don't like people to put words in my mouth but I think you've just done it."
"What do you mean?"
"I liked all that stuff that you just mentioned. Every bit of it."
"There must have been one particular thought which kept recurring to you during intercourse," I pressed. "Perhaps something having to do with the size of your son's penis? The way his bare young loins were tucked into yours. The way his balls might have rubbed against you during vaginal penetration?"
She was silent for a few more seconds. Then she answered. "Now that you make me think about it," she said, "there was one thought which kept recurring to me. Yes. Yes, now that I think about it I remember one thing that made it so genuinely exciting."
"Would you tell me what that was?" I asked.
"As Chuckie's penis was gliding in and out of me," she explained, "I was thinking how good it was to feel a young teenage boy inside me again. It was a new challenge, doctor, to be sure. But it was more than that. I realized that I was going to be able to make up for lost opportunities."
"Lost opportunities?" I asked.
"That's right," she said. "You see, I only screwed with three boys up until the time I was married, and one of them was the guy I married. And since I got married young, at age seventeen, I didn't get to do what most girls get to do?"
"What's that?" I asked.
"Most girls go on fucking rampages between the ages of seventeen and, say, twenty-two. Most men don't realize this. Most men get duped into thinking that their women are loyal and not promiscuous. But that's not so. I know girls who were friends of mine who screwed with over seventy or eighty men during that period of their lives."
"And you resented missing out on it?" I asked.
"I did," said Mrs. T. "I was married and had a child for those years. But when I got Chuckie to fuck me I was instantly struck with a brilliant realization. I knew that it was soon going to be time for me to set things even. I was going to have my series of young men when I was in my thirties. That's when all the other girls were married and couldn't get younger men any more."
"And this 'series of young men' that you mention...?"
"My sons," she said proudly. "All five of them."
"A final point of information, Mrs. T.," I said. "How many of the boys have you had sex with at this moment?"
"Three of the five," she replied.
"Have you ever had sex with more than one boy at once?" I asked.
"Of course, doctor," she said with a demure smile. "A mother likes a little challenge, you know."
"Very good, Mrs. T.," I said. "At our next session I'd like to hear about any group sex acts you've had with the boys. Is that agreeable to you."
Mrs. T. confirmed that it was most agreeable. Our interview concluded there. The best part of her testimony, in her second interview, was yet to come.
* * *
Incestuous sexual instincts, while latent in millions of women, can surface through many causes. One such cause was the one demonstrated by Mrs. T. I shall explain.
Incestuous acts are often triggered by other desires. In the case of Mrs. T., at least two strong factors were at work.
First, Mrs. T. was swept away by the sexuality of her son at the particular moment when he came home dejected from his date with young Susie. She had spent the evening contemplating his making love to a young girl. Those thoughts were enough for Mrs. T. to consider her own son anew as a male sexual object. That, in turn, triggered the second and more latent cause of her incestuous behavior.
As Mrs. T. herself explained, she had long had both the desire to sleep with her sons (as typified by the way she admitted to having toyed with their penises when they were young) and the resentment at having missed the sexual variety which other women appear to have enjoyed in their late teens and early twenties.
Through her son Chuckie, and later her other sons, Mrs. T. began to come to grips with her feelings. She suddenly became aware that she could not only enjoy the physical love of vigorous young males which she thought she'd missed out on, but she could also enjoy her sons as lovers.
Once Mrs. T. had seduced Chuckie at age sixteen she had established a trend within her family. And the trend was quite clear. She phrased it quite succinctly on her second visit to my offices.
"I plan to fuck all five of them," the thirty-four-year-old woman said. "It'll take time and understanding, but sooner or later I'll get all five."
"You've had the three oldest already, isn't that so?" I asked.
"It is," she smiled. "I've had all the different combinations of those three, also."
"Combinations?" I asked.
"Sure, doctor," she said. "You told me that was what you wanted to talk about today, isn't it? Group combinations."
"Please explain further," I urged.
"Well, when I say that I've had all the possible combinations of the three of them I mean that I've had the three of them alone, all three at once, Chuckie with Mark, Mark with Johnny, Chuckie with Jonny and Chuckie with Mark."
"Ah, now I understand."
"I can't wait till the younger two boys get a little older, doctor. Are you good at math?"
"Fair," I answered. "Why?"
"Just think what having five sons means to a woman like me who thrives on working it in different combinations. There are eight different combinations. There are eight different possibilities available now that I'm fucking with three of them. But when I'm fucking with all five, doctor, I figured out that there will be no less than one hundred and thirty different combinations. Can you imagine that? Do you know how long it will take me to work my way through all those. It'll carry me right into my old age."
"Interesting," I said.
"And do you know which one I'm most anxious to try?" she asked. "Which?"
"The combination where all five boys screw me at once, taking turns until everyone has come in me at least twice. Will I ever be a happy woman that day!"
"Let's talk about the present possibilities," I suggested. "The three boys you now have sex with are Chuckie, Mark and Johnny?"
"That's right."
"Their ages?"
"Chuckie is seventeen. You know that. Mark is fourteen and Johnny is twelve."
"Only twelve?" I asked, a bit surprised.
"I suppose you think he's too young, doctor," she said defensively. "But let me assure you of one thing. If a boy is old enough to get it hard, he's old enough to get it in."
"Would you tell me about any sexual act you participated in which involved all three boys at once?" I asked.
"I'll tell you about the big one we had about a month ago," she said. "Around the house, the boys and I refer back to it as 'The Third Coming'."
"May I ask why?"
"Because that was the time Johnny, the twelve-year-old was initiated to our little family fucking club. He was a virgin up until then. He was the third boy I've had so we called it 'The Third Coming'."
"And you initiated him in a group act with the others?" I asked, genuinely intrigued by Mrs. T.'s excessively permissive yet laudably frank behavior.
"I did," she said confidently. "I figured he might have some inhibitions about sex. But boys like to do what they see their older brothers doing. So when Johnny saw Chuckie and Mark balling Mom, he was more than anxious to join in the fun. He figured it was just something natural and affection which a boy does to his mother ... which it is."
"Would you describe the entire act for me?" I asked. Mrs. T. then began her account of a triple seduction....
...From the beginning, doctor, I knew that the youngest boy was going to be the hardest to get into my happy little triple play. Chuckie had been fucking me for eleven months already and I'd seduced fifteen-year-old Mark about six months earlier. But getting a boy of twelve to go along with things was going to be much more of a challenge.
I can't remember why I picked the particular day when it happened, other than the fact that I was intensely horny that day. I felt like more than just a balling by Chuckie and I felt like more than just Mark by himself.
I could have had them both at once, of course, but we'd just done that two days earlier. I don't like to ruin a good thing by taking too much of it. As for my husband, I'd blown him and then fucked him in cat position the night before. It was good, but it left me with an appetite.
So there were two possibilities. I could have my husband join in with my two older sons. This was tricky since my husband had no idea that I was screwing with his son and step-son. There was a very strong possibility that he would have been very old fashioned about the whole thing and would have made a scene. So that possibility really wasn't very good.
That left me with no alternative, doctor. I had to break new ground in the virgin forest again. I had to include little Johnny in a triple. Any woman would understand that considering my situation I had no alternative but to do what I did.
Johnny was in his room playing with some table football game when my pussy sent out its signal for fresh young cock. I went into Johnny, sat down on a bench next to him and began to talk.
"Johnny," I said to him, "something big is about to come up."
"It is?" he asked.
"It certainly is, Johnny," I said to him. "You're about to learn about something which is going to make what you're playing with now boring."
He let his hands rise from what he was doing. He looked at me curiously knowing that I had more to explain.
"Do you remember the conversation we had a few weeks back?" I asked.
He lowered his eyes as if I'd suggested something lurid or hush-hush. "You mean ... about how people ... how they-"
"Fucking, Johnny," I said. "The conversation about how people fuck."
He nodded. "Do you have to tell me something more?" he asked me.
"Tell you?" I said. "No, I have nothing to tell you. I do, however, have to show you something."
He looked at me again with curious young eyes. I returned his gaze and looked at his young body. I knew he was old enough to get erections because I'd seen them bulging uncontrollably under his pants. So I knew he was ready to start fucking. The thought of that boy's virgin tools excited me however. It was just what I needed on this particular day. A nice fresh young virgin boy.
"What do you want to show me, Mom?" he asked.
"To start with, Johnny," I said to my third son, "I want you to obey me to the letter. Believe me, what I'm going to show you is in your best interests. So you have to do exactly as I say."
"Okay, Mom," he said quietly.
"What I want you to do, John," I said to my son, "is disrobe."
"Strip?" he gasped.
"That's right," I said. "I want you to take your clothes off and then come into my bedroom with your little penis all bare."
Like most boys on their first incestuous experiences, little Johnny was embarrassed. I tried to put him at ease.
"Both of your older brothers will be there, too," I said. "And I wouldn't think of asking you to do anything that they haven't already done."
He still looked very shy. I leaned forward and gave him a great big kiss on the lips, using my tongue for the first time as I kissed him.
Then I got up and slinked to the door of his room. "I'm counting on you to obey me," I said softly to him, thrusting my bosoms prominently out in front of me. "It's very important. Be in my bedroom in five minutes. Nude."
He stammered but managed to ask me a question as I left. "Mom?" he asked. "Are you going to be naked, too. The same as me?"
"Of course, dear," I said. "That's the whole point. Now hurry and take your pants off."
As I closed the door behind me I could tell that he was very nervous and confused about what was happening. But I knew my son. I knew he'd be where I'd told him to be.
Meanwhile, I went to Chuckie's room. Chuckie was a boy with an intense sexual drive. He takes after his mother, I guess. All I had to do with Chuckie was show him my pussy by raising my skirt. When he saw my big bare muff down under my skirt he was ready for action. I told him to go to my bedroom and disrobe. He went there immediately.
Then T went to find Mark. Mark, a handsome brown-haired boy of fifteen, was sitting downstairs at the time, reading a book required for school. Mark is the brightest of my five boys. He's also very independently minded. Often when I ask Mark to do something he resists intentionally. Mark's not the type of boy who you can just command into the sack. You have to use a bit of psychology on Mark.
Mark sat there and continued to read when I sat down on the big arm of that easy chair he was sitting in. I carefully thought about my strategy. Then I began to talk to Mark.
"Mark," I said to him, "I'll bet you didn't hear what happened at Jerry Logan's house last night."
Jerry Logan was one of Mark's best friends. I had his attention immediately.
"What happened?" Mark asked.
"Well," I said slowly, "Jerry's Mom came home early last night and she discovered Jerry and his sister in the living room."
"His sister? Trixie?"
"Trixie is a very immoral girl," I said teasingly to my son. "She seduced her younger brother."
"Wow! Did she?" he asked. Mark was excited since his little friend Jerry Logan was only fifteen and his older sister, a college girl who liked to fuck a lot, was twenty-one.
"She certainly did," I said, telling a nice big fib in order to get Mark into the proper mood for fucking. "When Mrs. Logan came home there was Trixie down on the bearskin rug in the living room. She was nude and had her legs wide apart."
"Where was Jerry?" my excited son asked.
"Right where you'd suspect he'd be," I said. "He was right on top of his sister, plunging that big long penis of his in and out of his sister's sloppy wet vagina. She was grinding and pumping back and forth while her brother tooled her pussy."
"Wow!" he gasped again in a breathless voice. "That sure makes a guy horny."
"Does it make your peter stand up, Markie? I asked. "Does it excite you to hear how your young friend's penis plowed in and out of his big sister's vagina?"
"It sure does," he said with a smile. "Look."
He motioned down to his crotch. I looked where he pointed and I saw a big surging bulge beneath his fly. He giggled when he saw me look at it.
"Mother knows what you've got in there," I said in a teasing voice again. "And mother can read your mind."
"What am I thinking, Mom?" he asked, a big smile creasing his turned-on face.
"You're horny," I said. "Mother made you horny by telling you a little tale of seduction."
He giggled again. I moved my hand to his fly and began to unzip it. He didn't stop me. I flicked the fly down and snaked my finger through the slit of his underpants. I wrapped my finger around the head of his penis and pulled the penis right out of his pants. His cock was erecting all the way up. It was hard as it came out and harder still after it came out.
"Like that?" I asked with a smile. I rubbed the moistened tip of my finger slowly across the underneath of his penis. He liked that. He sat there in the chair completely enraptured. Then I opened my legs as I sat next to him. I allowed him to look all the way up my skirt to where he could see my panties against my crotch.
"If your penis is interested," I said to him, "you can bring it up to my bedroom right now. I'm having a little party for all my sons who'd like to come."
"To come?" he asked.
"To come," I affirmed, making myself very clear. I got up from where I sat beside him and I walked back up the stairs. Just as I thought he would, he followed.
When I got back up to my bedroom, Chuckie was already nude on my bed with his limp prick sitting right on his big hairy balls.
I came through the door and blew Chuckie a kiss. I slipped out of my shirt and skirt and stood there in my bra and panties, looking over my son and that flaccid hunk of meat positioned at his crotch.
"Gosh, Mom," he said to me. "You've sure got a good figure."
I patted myself on the tummy, holding my stomach flat in. "How can you appreciate it when it's not even nude," I said to him. "I've got to get my clothes off."
I was moving over to the bed when Mark came through the door. "Markie, dear," I said to him as he came into the room. "Help mother with her bra."
Markie came up behind me and unhooked my bra behind my back. The bra slid forward down my arms and I tossed it off. Chuckie, leaning on one elbow, peered from the bed directly at my nipples as I stood there. But he couldn't see me for long. Mark's hands slid around me and cupped themselves over my big boobs as he hugged me from the back.
I could feel Mark's hard meat sticking against my buttocks. I moaned with delight, knowing I was the object of such affection from my sons. Mark kissed me at the base and the side of my neck. And I let him take each of my nipples between the thumb and forefinger of each hand.
He toyed with my nipples and held his firm meat to me as I watched Chuckie's rod erect fully, pointing right at me and glistening with a little drop of sperm right at the nozzle. Then Mark, still hugging me and working over my tits from behind, started one of his hands on the move.
The hand moved from my nipple down past my navel. It slipped under the panties I still wore and it poked its way through my pubic region.
"Don't agonize me, Markie," I said to him. "Pull the panties down."
With the boy's help my silk panties slid down from my hips, past my pussy and down my legs. They dropped to my ankles and I stepped out of them.
But as I was stepping, Mark's hand returned back to where it had been. He was still tooling one of my nipples with' one hand, but the other hand was deeply engrossed in my pussy.
Two fingers were throbbing directly against my clitoris. He was rubbing briskly back and forth on the head of that little female penis of mine. I loved the feel of it. And I loved the idea that one of my sons was watching me from the bed while the other boy was tooling my clit. I started to pull the boy with me.
"Please, Markie," I said to my fifteen-year-old son as I walked forward, pulling him with me. "On the bed. Let's all get on the bed."
I pulled Mark to the bed with me and I sat down on that bed. Chuckie kissed one of my nipples while Mark remained at work at my genitals. He was trying to twist his little anxious fingers down toward my vaginal canal. He was doing a good job of it, too. There was juice stemming from that canal and he was doing an excellent job of spreading the juice around and lubricating my pussy for me.
I kissed each of my boys on the lips as they frantically went to work on their mother's body. All four of their young hands were at work all over me. Their hands were moving around so quickly that I had difficulty even keeping track of whose hand was where.
One hand was pressed against my nipple on the left side while a hand from another body was working on the right nipple. My pussy got an urgent feeling when I felt all those hands at work on me. And to satisfy that urgent feeling was a pair of fingers.
I think they were Mark's fingers because from the time his hands started to touch me till the time I sat down on that bed, I don't remember his hand straying from my pussy area at all. I wriggled my pussy a bit and ground my vagina against those fingers as they alternated between my clit and my vaginal slot. The fingers were driving me crazy. Then one of those dear little devils stuck a thumb up my ass.
I don't remember which boy it was who was giving it to me in the ass with a thumb. Both boys knew I like something stuffed in my back door, but by now I'd lost complete track of who was where on me. Worse, one of them had pressed his face to my nipples and was sucking a good half of my left breast into his big mouth.
I think it was Mark who was doing that, doctor. Or was it Chuckie. I honestly don't remember, but I do know that it wasn't Johnny.
You see, just as the goings on the bed started to swing in a frantic gear, young Johnny came through the door to the bedroom.
The twelve-year-old boy was completely nude, just as I'd asked him to be. He looked at me on the bed with his two older brothers and he was speechless.
Speechless, doctor, does not mean that the boy had no reaction, no opinion about what was happening on that bed. He voiced his reaction without speaking. How? His penis started to erect.
Up, up and up it came. I saw the brown fur around the boy's young balls and I saw that big loaf of his start to rise up as he saw what was happening.
Right when I laid my eyes on his young balls for the first time, whichever of his brothers was in my snatch managed to slip his two fingers all the way in and around. I loved the feel of those loving twisting fingers of whichever son was doing that. I began to orgasm on his hand while my twelve-year-old, Johnny, took a mental picture of his mother that I'm sure he'll never forget.
"Gosh, Mom." Johnny said as he watched his brothers playing with my nude body, kissing and touching me all over. "Are you and the other guys fighting?"
"This is how love is made between adults," I gasped to Johnny. "You just watch what your brothers do because your turn is coming up very quickly."
Johnny stood there and watched as his brothers continued to kiss, lick and fondle all the delicate and sensual parts of my body. Their tongues and fingers were all over me, including the fingers that were tucked down into my slot. As those fingers continued to twist, my pussy's appetite for penis increased. I fondled Mark's penis until it was huge. Then I told the boy that I wanted him first.
As Chuckie rolled to the side and let his brother have full custody of my body, Mark began to move his face down to my muff. He kissed my wet pussy before doing anything more, knowing that I insist on a kiss for mother before entry of the penis can be permitted.
Then I held my legs wide as Mark's young body moved on top of me and fit neatly between my legs. I had to reach down to his hard penis and steer it into me, but once the firm big head of that prong was inside my pussy, my fifteen-year-old son was able to slide it the rest of the way in with one good firm thrust.
I felt that contented full feeling down in my slot when Mark's penis slid into me. I could feel the long hard shaft pushing back and forth in me and within seconds the boy's rod was shoved so far into me that it felt like it was hitting my cervix and bending back.
Mark's loins started to pump frantically as he drove his penis in and out of me. We wriggled back and forth and actually managed to roll onto our sides. I was lying on my side with one leg up while Mark's penis was shoving its way in and out of me between my wide open legs.
But as I lay on my side with my back to Chuckie, Chuckie was hit with a sudden bit of inspiration.
Chuckie poked his finger to my rectum. My tailpipe opened up for him and my second son pushed his finger up my ass. I was getting it from both ways now. I only wished that young Johnny would take a flying leap, land on us, and let me suck on his penis while his two brothers were working on me from other angles.
Chuckie began to throb his finger in and out of my back door with roughly the same motion that Mark was pushing in and out of the front. I was orgasming hard on Mark's penis now and he was pushing his penis firmly into me. Within a few more minutes I felt Mark's penis harden to full erection and then begin to spurt wildly inside me.
The come flew out of the boy's penis with long satisfying gushes which shot way back into me. I could feel the warmth of his sperm as it shot into me. And as his prick contracted back down to its limp flaccid state, Chuckie gave a few final twists of the finger at my back door.
My pussy was just getting into the swing of things, however. I was lucky that I had three sons on this particular day because I was massively turned on.
I rolled away from Mark and let his limp wet rod slip out of me. Mark lay on the bed gasping for breath, something like a fish floundering out of water. His mother had drained him of both sperm and energy.
"Now, Chuckie," I said to my seventeen-year-old who had been working on my back door. "It's time for you to have some fun, too."
I gave Chuckie a kiss on the lips as I rolled over to face him. He pressed his one hand against my pussy and flicked his fingers through the wetness of it. His other hand wrapped around me and held its palm flat against my buttocks. Then my hard nipples pressed against him and he felt them firmly pointed against his bare chest.
"Don't forget, Chuckie," I said to him. "You have to kiss the patch before you can penetrate it."
The idea of kissing the patch before entering it was a new idea that I'd introduced to the boys within the last weeks. I liked the idea because it not only felt good but it forced the boys to show the proper respect for their mother before fucking her.
I held my legs apart and lay back flat on the bed. Chuckie moved down to my vagina and planted a long wet kiss way down inside me, teasing the inner vaginal lips as he did so. Then his lips rose and kissed their way upwards on me, playing with my navel, kissing each nipple and then rising to my lips where I could taste my own pussy on his lips. It always tasted a little saltier after one of the boys had already come in it.
I held my legs apart as Johnny watched his oldest brother ready to penetrate me. By this time, Johnny, his penis still erect, had moved over toward us and was sitting on the edge of the bed to get a better view. Doctor, I think it's a beautiful thing when a woman gets to teach her own children about sex. It implants in them a clean and healthy attitude about screwing. It's just what the boys need in an age like this when their young and vulnerable minds will be exposed to so much smut.
Chuckie mounted me with no help from my hand to steer his penis into the proper slot. The long hard shaft slipped quickly and firmly through my wet pussy lips. Within seconds, Chuckie's cock was hard at work, pumping its way down into the depths that his brother had just returned from.
I arched my ass upwards and wrapped my long white legs around my son's frantic trunk. I could feel that penis doing wonders to my pussy, raising it into all sorts of wondrous sensations of orgasm. I wrapped my legs as tight as I could around my boy. And I blasted off against his prong.
Chuckie's penis is the most satisfying. He's older than the other boys and seems to have a bigger prick. Also, he comes harder and with more juice than the others. Maybe it's technique and maybe it's just physical prowess. In any event, Chuckie sure makes his poor mother orgasm her pussy off.
I was blasting all over Chuckie's rod when he grunted to me.
"Mom," he grunted as he ground that long prick of his into me. "I'm going to come, Mom!"
"Come hard!" I urged him. "Come real hard, Chuckie!"
"I'm trying to hold it as long as I can," he said, grimacing and trying to hold back the massive ejaculation that was building in his balls. "I'm trying to hold it."
I got off a few more blasts of my own pussy, but I could feel how rigid my oldest son's cock was. I could feel that he had an orgasm within him that was going to flood me when it broke loose.
"Mom," he grunted again. "Not much more. Can't hold it much more."
I started to skim into a long blast of my pussy. I could feel a tremendous feeling of relief as I started to pump that big long climax out of me.
"Now!" I urged him. "Come now!"
He stroked hard. I felt his penis spasm and cut free with a long gushing torrent.
"Oh, Mom!" he wailed as his penis spasmed and spit an unbelievable long torrent of come down into me. "Oh, Mom! Oh, I love you, Mom!"
"Grind it!" I begged as his penis gushed hard. I could feel his hot juice shooting into me like big frothing bullets. "Grind it hard!"
He ground his penis firmly into me and I could feel the long spasming shots go way down into me. Chuckie and I held each other in each other's loins for several long seconds as he pumped every drop of his juice down into me.
"Oh, Chuckie, yes," I whispered in his ear when it was over. "Oh, Chuckie. You're more of a man than even your father."
I might have stopped it there and might have been content, doctor. But as I panted for my breath I saw Johnny looking at me with his big longing twelve-year-old eyes. He was looking at me with that can-I-play-too? look on his face. Fortunately, as soon as I looked at him I realized that not only did I have a commitment to be fair and let all my boys have a fair turn, but I also had a tingling feeling at that pussy. I was pretty satisfied by now, but I still had a yen for something more. It's sort of like wanting a little light dessert even after a big meal.
I opened the legs and Johnny enthusiastically moved his small smooth body over on top of me. His penis fumbled all around the proper spot and, like Mark, I had to direct his penis in with my hands. But my patience was rewarded, doctor. Johnny's penis, once extended, felt all fresh and new to me. Fucking with a boy that young was a fabulous new treat. I got off a few final orgasms before the squealing boy, more excited than any other time in his life, got off a great big climax of his own excited de-virginized prick. When he giggled and withdrew his flaccid penis from me, he was officially a man. His first time in me wasn't impressive, but he was a beginner. Each time Johnny's fucked me since then he's done a little better and learned something new....
...Mrs. T. concluded her story at this point. I asked a few final questions of her before discussing her story and her sexual activity with her. The most important question was the following one.
"Mrs. T.," I asked. "While you were engaged in sex with your sons were you conscious that they were your sons? Or were you merely conscious that they were three young males?"
"Oh, doctor," she said. "I knew these were my boys. I wouldn't fuck indiscriminantly for some young boys just for the sexual thrill involved. Certainly not. I have to feel that a male really loves me before I'll let him put his penis in."
"So it was important that these were your sons?"
"Absolutely," she said. "I had had that idea about fucking these for a long time. Getting three at once was the realization of a dream for me."
"What about the two younger ones?" I asked. "How old are your other sons?"
"One boy is ten," she explained. "His name is Ronnie. He's a very handsome muscular young fellow. And then there's Mike. He's the eight-year-old. He's the one I'm really waiting for."
"Waiting for?" I asked.
"After a while I got smart," said Mrs. T. "I knew I'd screw with my boys some day so after Mark was born I wouldn't let the doctors circumcise my sons any more. Neither Ronnie nor Mike are clipped."
"Why then are you waiting for just the eight-year-old if neither of them are circumcised?" I asked.
"Well, doctor," said Mrs. T. with muted glee. "Mike has a particularly big penis even for his age. I just cannot wait till he starts having his wet dreams and developing into a man. There's going to be some great times in store for me around the old bedroom."
"Thank you, Mrs. T.," I said. "No further questions."
I discussed Mrs. T.'s case with her at length over the minutes that remained in her present interview session. Then I even invited her back for a consultation session at which she gave no further testimony but at which we discussed her incestuous habits.
I noted with her that she was a woman with an extremely high sexual drive, a drive which at this point in her life no one male could possibly cope with. Thus, under these circumstances, it was relatively normal for her to turn to help aside from her husband.
I stressed to her, however, that I thought she had developed an excessive fixation upon the genitalia of her sons. Mrs. T. insisted that her interest was neither excessive nor a fixation. She maintained that it was merely a mother's normal interest in her sons.
To disprove Mrs. T.'s ideas I played to her tape recordings of other women who had been interviewed at my offices. She listened intently to other mothers tell their own stories about how they'd seduced their sons and why. Mrs. T. slowly came to realize that not all mothers do seduce their boys.
"What are you getting at, doctor?" she then asked me nervously. "Do you want me to stop fucking them? I don't think I could do that."
"I'm not going to ask you to stop," I said.
She smiled. "You mean what I'm doing is all right?" she asked gleefully.
"Mrs. T.," I explained. "I'm not in a position to pass moral judgment on your actions. I'm a researcher and an analyst. I can only advise you and report on what I find."
"Then what's your point?" she asked.
"Simply this," I said. I then explained to Mrs. T. that I felt she should take a more realistic attitude toward her sons. She should, if she continues to instruct them on sex and actually participate in sex with them, not hide the matter from her husband and not lead the boys to believe that what they are doing is normal practice. I explained that youths led to believe that incest is common and standard will be ill equipped to move on into more common sexual relationships in later life.
"Too bad," she said. "That means I'd have to keep my boys with me, wouldn't it?" She smiled, indicating that that was what she wanted all along.
When I suggested that Mrs. T. was now revealing a serious sexual greed in denying that her sons would ever want to have sex with other women, Mrs. T. became angered. She rose from her seat and informed me that I was overstepping my welcome into the affairs of her family. In turn, I suggested that she might want to consult with an analyst more concerned with psychiatric disorders involving sex. At that suggestion, Mrs. T. stormed from my office and has not replied to any of my ensuing telephone messages.
CASE HISTORY THREE
Although this collection of interviews is concerned primarily with mother-son incest as told by American female participants, there is another pervasive form of incest which is increasingly common in America.
The case will appear familiar I'm sure. It is the case of the aunt, often younger than the mother of her nephew, who is tempted by her sister's boy. Tempted so much in fact, that she manages to seduce her nephew, often resulting in the first sexual experiences of that particular young boy.
The case of Marilyn S. of Miami is typical of this type of situation. When I interviewed dozens of young males and females who were involved with aunt-nephew or uncle-niece forms of sex, I discovered many uncles and nieces who were willing to discuss their sexual activity. Similarly, many boys who had been seduced by their aunts were anxious to tell me their stories. But I was at a loss to find many aunts who would openly and candidly tell the story of how they seduced their teenager nephews.
(NOTE: I would refer the student of these affairs to Volume One of this collection. In it, several uncles tell why the seduction of their nieces was destined to success from the outset. Increasingly, as is revealed in Volume One, uncles are making advances to their nieces. It's important to know why these advances are succeeding.)
Marilyn S., however, thirty-years-old, was one of the few aunts who would tell of her seductive exploits. When Marilyn S. came to my offices to discuss what she'd done, she was as proud as she was attractive.
When Marilyn S. came to my offices in May of 1972, she began to tell me about her relationship with Jimmy W., the sixteen-year-old son of her sister, Mrs. Esther W. As I looked down on the introductory cards that Marilyn S. filled out I noticed that there was no "Miss" or "Mrs." checked. Since she obviously was not "Mr." I began the interview by asking her her marital status. "Is it 'Miss' or 'Mrs.'?" I asked.
"Is it important?" she asked.
"No," I answered. "It would be used only for my own statistical use."
"Between 'Miss' and 'Mrs.' it's neither," she said confidently.
I looked at her. "What would you prefer?" I asked.
"I like to be known as 'Ms.'," she said. "After all, doctor, this is 1972, the year of the liberated woman."
"I find any of the three acceptable," I said. "However people will be reading these reports. Women like yourself. Even liberated women particularly since women who are frozen into the traditional roles often don't consider incest as a valid form of sex."
"So what?" she asked.
"So," I explained, "these other women like yourself will read these reports and wonder whether or not you're married. For their own education and liberation they'll want to know as much about you as possible so that they have the chance to profit by your own incestuous experiences."
"I'll tell you this," she said. "I'm not married. Not anymore. I divorced my husband because I couldn't stand being tied down to one man. I like to experiment with a lot of them."
"Which includes relatives, does it not?" I asked.
"I've had a very happy affair with my sister's son if that's what you mean," she said.
"It is," I said. "But let's not jump ahead to that for a moment. You were married. That means that for our purposes you're Mrs. S."
"Wrong," she said.
"Why is that wrong?"
"I was Mrs. McL. But I'm not any more. I go by my maiden name again so I'm not Mrs. S. and I never was Mrs. S."
"But at one time," I said trying to clear up this increasingly bothersome point, "you were Miss S."
"I was," she said. "But I'm not any more. I'm Ms. S."
"Very good," I assured her. For our purposes in the office here you are Ms. S."
"Thank you, doctor," she said.
What I did not mention to Marilyn S. was that although in the office she may think of herself as Ms., I do insist that within these pages she be identified by her more traditional and less confusing title. Therefore, from here on in these pages, Marilyn S. will be Miss S.
Miss S., I might add, was an extremely attractive young woman. She wore a pair of trim tight light blue denim slacks to my office along with a light yellow blouse which she wore with the top three buttons open. It was possible for me to determine since those buttons were left open, that Miss S. was not wearing a bra beneath her clothing. Again, this all figured into her conception of herself as a liberated female.
"Tell me," I said to my subject, "how does your role as a thirty-year-old liberated woman induce you into committing incestuous acts with your nephew?"
"That's a silly question," she replied, not wishing to add anything further.
I felt that if I could get past Miss S.'s outward hostility I'd end up with a good interview. Thus I pressed on with her.
"Why is it a silly question?" I asked.
"Look, doctor, if you're liberated it means that you don't have to fuck with any particular man.
You can screw with any male you find attractive. I happened to find my sister's son attractive."
"Is that the only incestuous act you've ever committed?" I asked her.
"Recently?" she asked, again attempting to be evasive.
"Ever."
"There were a few little flings when I was young," she said. "They didn't amount to much."
"Can you name them?"
"I can," she said. Then there was silence. "Will you?" I asked.
"When I was sixteen," she said, "I let my brother get me drunk. He ended up by reaching under my skirt and jiggling my clitoris until I had a hideous burning desire down there. He was older than I. He was twenty-two, had just come home from the army, and had evidently learned that that was how you turn on a woman."
"Was this your first experience with a male?" I asked. "The first sexual encounter?" I could feel that Miss S. was ready to open up and do some talking. I let her continue.
"I was a pure and innocent young girl at that time," Miss S. said. "I was sweet sixteen and hadn't lost my virginity yet. The most I'd ever done with boys was let them feel my bare nipples. In return I'd give a couple of guys hand jobs."
"What happened with your brother?" I pressed.
"He vibrated my clit so well through my panties that he created the urge to fuck down inside my pussy. The next thing I knew he was taking my panties off and I was too drunk and excited to stop him. When he had my panties down he fingered my whole bare pussy. That did it. Then I let him jam his cock into me and fuck me. Presto, doctor. I was an ex-virgin."
I noted to Miss S. that her account of losing her virginity to her brother was not unusual. Many women whom I interviewed revealed that the first sexual experiences they'd ever had had been with their brothers or fathers.
"Typical," she noted.
"Typical of what?"
"Typical of men." she said, "to abuse the women in their own family."
"Was the experience with your brother enjoyable at the time?" I asked.
"Well," she said, "I knew what he was doing but I just didn't bother to stop him. Yes, I'd have to admit that what he did felt good at the time. I had an orgasm if that's what you're asking me about."
"And was that the only incestuous experience you had before sleeping with your sister's boy?"
"There was one other," Miss S. admitted.
"What was that?" I asked. She had dropped her outward hostilities and was co-operating quite nicely now.
"I come from a family of four children, doctor," she explained. "There was me, my brother and my older sister Edna whose son I seduced and planked."
"And who was the fourth child?" I asked.
"I had a younger sister, Rebecca," said Miss S. "She's two years younger than I am. She's grown up now and she's living in Ohio."
"Please continue," I said. "Did your younger sister figure into an incestuous act?"
"I sixty-nined with her," said Miss S. "I had a lesbian experience with her when I was nineteen and she was seventeen."
"Briefly, how did it happen?" I asked.
"My younger sister fell in with some of the amazons on the girls' basketball team at high school," Miss S. informed me. "Evidently one of the amazons, a six foot girl named Wanda seduced Rebecca on the wrestling mat after basketball practice one day. Rebecca decided that she liked it."
"And she seduced you, too?"
"She didn't exactly seduce me," Miss S. said. "My sister told me that she was having sex with Wanda. At first I was shocked like most people are. But then I discovered that it was a perfectly normal thing for a young girl to do. After all, my sister wanted to experiment with her body. What's wrong with that? She could experiment and have orgasms and she didn't even have to worry about birth control."
"How did you become involved?" I asked.
"I began to ask my sister questions about how she and Wanda did it. I asked what it felt like and whether the orgasms were more intense than when there's a penis in. My sister explained that you had to do it to know what it was like. So I thought it over for a few days. Then one day we were getting undressed for bed together and my younger sister put her hands on my hips, knelt down and started to kiss my vagina. I went ahead. And I enjoyed it."
"So you had that lesbian experience with her once," I summed up.
"Once?" laughed the attractive and very feminine Miss S. "Oh, no, doctor. I'd say we did it a few dozen times."
"Is your sister married today?" I asked
"She's married and has a boy and a girl. She sleeps with her husband and satisfies him in every way."
"Then she didn't become a lesbian after all," I assumed.
"No, doctor," she said. "She didn't become a lesbian but she writes to me and tells me that she does like to seduce young teenage girls now and then. It makes her feel young and she says she likes to show the girls that there are possibilities other than men."
"I see," I said as I made hand notes on a yellow legal pad. "Now tell me, Ms. S.," I said. "What about your other sister."
"Edna? My older sister. I never sixty-nined with her."
"I'm sure you didn't?" I asked. "But did you ever sixty-nine with her son, your nephew?" I was leading Miss S. into the topic that I wanted to hear about. She knew I was leading her but she was finally willing to speak freely.
"Of course I sixty-nined with him," she said. "I've been sleeping with him for over eighteen months. What do you think we've been doing. Petting?"
"Would you describe your first seduction of the boy?" I asked. Miss S. began....
...My sister and her husband live right in the same neighborhood in Miami where I live, doctor. About a year and a half ago Edna, my sister, and her husband wanted to fly down to the islands for the weekend. They didn't have anybody to take care of their little Jimmy who was fourteen years old at the time. So my sister called me and asked me if I'd mind staying at her place with Jimmy.
"How old is Jimmy now?" I asked inquisitively when she posed the question to me.
"I was told he was fourteen. I hadn't seen the boy for a while and I'd frankly lost track of his march to manhood."
"Fourteen?" I replied. "I guess Jimmy's becoming a real little man by now."
"He's grown a lot since you saw him last," Edna told me. "You probably won't even recognize him."
"I'll make sure that I recognize him," I said to my sister. "Doesn't little Jimmy have a birthmark right down on his left buttock."
My sister laughed. "He'll never let you look at him down there," she said to me with that laugh of hers. But I detected more than a slight bit of nervousness in her laughter. Somehow she must have known that when I said I was going to check his buttock I meant what I said.
I came over to their house on a Friday evening, about an hour after my sister and her husband had left from the airport. I looked around the house as I came through the front door. Then all of a sudden a handsome youngster of fourteen appeared before me.
"Don't tell me!" I said to the boy as I dropped my overnight bag at my side. "You've got to be Jimmy!"
He smiled. His face was handsome and his hair was yellow from that rich Florida sunshine. The boy was wearing a little red cotton shirt and a pair of thin blue shorts. His legs and arms were tanned and strong. I could feel a slight tingling at my clitoris just as I looked at the boy for the first time.
"Hi, Aunt Marilyn!" the boy said to me. I opened my arms and beckoned him to me. He came over to me and gave me a great big hug and a kiss. I wrapped him in my arms and embraced him firmly so that his chest would press right against my breasts.
As the boy leaned against me and let me hug him, he became aware that my boobs were bare beneath my own little blouse. As he stepped away he lowered his gaze and saw the two big dark nipples standing up beneath the thin fabric of my shirt.
"Golly," he said to me. And his face reddened.
"Did I do something wrong, Jimmy?" I asked the flustered youth.
"No, Aunt Marilyn," he said to me. He gave me a sneaky smile as his gaze alternated back and forth from my eyes to my boobs.
"Something must be wrong," I said. "You're acting very peculiar."
"Golly," said the fourteen-year-old. "I've never seen things like that from up close before."
"Things like what?" I asked firmly. I wanted the boy to conquer his shyness and come right out and say what he was thinking.
"Boobs," he said with a silly smile. "I can see your tits."
I stood perfectly erect and thrust out my chest, raising those big pointed tits of mine and really giving the boy something to get horny over.
"You mean those?" I asked as I held them out. "You mean you can see right through my blouse?"
"Uh-huh," he said as he nodded intensely. "Right through!"
"And you've never seen a pair of boobs that well before?" I asked coyly.
He shook his head but he still had that boyish grin across his face.
"Well then, Jimmy," I said as I reached up to the top button on my blouse, "I think that you should see even more if this is the first time. Why don't we make a real special occasion out of it?"
I undid the top button of my blouse. Then I undid the one below it. Then the next one. The boy's eyes were popping out of his skull so far that they almost must have hurt him. I unbuttoned the entire front of my blouse as Jimmy stood there with his feet frozen to the floor and his mouth unable to utter a sound.
"I'll bet you're a young man who's just learning how to really appreciate women," I said to him coyly. I had the front of my blouse open in front of him. He could see the deep cleavage between those breasts of mine and he could see that I had no bra.
"Do you have a girlfriend?" I asked.
He nodded his head. I was surprised.
"And how old is she?" I asked.
"Th-th-thirteen," he said, stammering as he saw my blouse move open by another couple of inches. He still couldn't see either of my tits bare but the fabric of the blouse was almost pulled aside enough to show him.
"Thirteen?" I teased in an overly friendly voice. "Going out with a younger woman, huh?"
"What?" he asked.
"I said," I continued slowly, "I wanted to know if you've banged her yet?"
Horrified, the boy looked back up at me. He couldn't say anything again.
"Well? Have you?"
"Have I what?"
"Did you fuck her yet?" I demanded. "Did you plow that long member of yours into that thirteen-year-old girl's fresh pulsating soaking wet little honey pot?"
"Aunt Marilyn!" he gasped. "Not-not-not at our age we don't do that."
"Who says? Who says you can't screw at your age."
"Everyone," he protested. "Our parents. Our teachers. Our f-"
"Jimmy," I said to my nephew, "people are giving you a crock of shit. When I was twelve years old I'd lost my hymen. By the time I was fourteen," I lied, "I'd been balled by over two dozen boys."
"Sheeee-it!" the boy gasped.
"So you see what a crock of shit people are feeding you, Jimmy? If you're old enough to think about fucking you're old enough to do it. And today, right here, I'm going to prove that to you."
"Aunt Marilyn," he said. "I don't understand."
"Maybe this will help you understand, Jimmy," I said to my nephew. "Obviously you need help in understanding."
I moved the left side of my blouse over a few more inches and suddenly the material slipped away from the big hard nipple which was underneath my blouse.
Jimmy saw it and again was speechless. I moved the other side of my blouse and he then saw my other breast completely bare.
"Do you like them, Jimmy?" I asked. "Doesn't your aunt have nice tits?"
I cupped my hands under them the way any woman would cup them to her lover. The boy was even breathing hard from looking at my boobs. "Very nice," he panted.
"Nicer than your little thirteen-year-old girlfriend's?" I asked the boy.
"Oh, Aunt Marilyn," my nephew replied. "She's just a little girl. And you're ... you're an older lady!"
"How do you know I'm an older lady?" I asked.
"Because of them!" he insisted, pointing at my great big boobs and the rosy brown nipples which were erect at the top of each tit. "Because of those big jugs. My girlfriend Marsha is as flat as a board."
"Flat?" I insisted. "Flat? You're too good looking a young boy to have a girlfriend who's flat. What are you going to suck and nibble on while you're fucking?"
He shook his head. He didn't know. I took the moment to take that blouse completely off me, tossing it down onto the overnight bag I'd brought. I figured that I was doing pretty well with Jimmy so far. I had only been in the house for a few minutes. Already I had my boobs bare and from the bulge in his pants I could tell that I had my young nephew terribly excited.
"Jimmy," I said slowly as I strutted across the room with my bare tits jiggling nicely for him, "have you ever considered making love to a woman?"
"Gosh," he said. "I'd like to. I really would. Someday."
"Someday?" I asked. "Don't you have any particular day in mind? Like today?"
His face seemed to redden again. I sat down on a couch in the living room of their house. I blessed my sister and brother in law for going off for a weekend. Jimmy was a pretty good looking young boy. I was beginning to make mental guesses about how well he was hung.
When he remained silent to my question I went back to a subject which I'd had better luck with. That little girlfriend of his.
"What about your girlfriend?" I asked. "Does she have hair on her pussy yet?"
"I-I don't know," he gasped.
"Haven't you ever looked at her little bare twat?"
"Nope," he said shyly.
"Haven't you ever wanted to?" I said with an exaggerated surprise.
"I've wanted to," he said. "But she ... she won't let me."
"She won't let you?" I roared. "And you call her your girlfriend even though she won't let you see her pussy? Jimmy, you've got a lot to learn about women!"
He shrugged again and another silly smile creased his handsome tan face.
"I think what you need is to see what a nice mature woman looks like down below the waist," I said. "And that's what I'm going to show you. Come here."
"But-?"
"Come here, Jimmy," I said. "I'm babysitting. Your mother told you to obey everything I said, didn't she?"
He nodded.
"Well then, I'm telling you to come here. Come!"
I patted the spot next to me on the couch. The boy slowly came over and sat down wearily next to me.
"That's a good boy, Jimmy," I said. "Heaven knows you don't have to be afraid of your aunt. She's your friend. She has your benefit in her mind."
He looked at me and then his eyes fell to my tits again. Then I opened my legs in a manner that made my skirt ride way up on my thighs. That drew his attention to my short skirt and my bare legs. Jimmy's attention was zeroing right in to where I wanted it.
"Jimmy," I said to him, "put your hand on my knee."
He obeyed. His shaking little hand went right onto my bare leg. I saw that the bulge in his crotch was more acute now. There were even a few little drops of moisture showing through his pants. I knew a fourteen-year-old wasn't going to be able to hold it forever, so I began to rush things along a bit.
I reached beneath my skirts and tugged on my own panties, pulling them down my legs all the way to where Jimmy's hand was at my knee. Then I slid the panties by his hand. The boy peered beneath my skirt as I let the panties slip to my ankles and fall to the floor. I held my legs apart so that he could see the hairiness between my legs as he peered in at me.
"Are you looking at my most sacred part, Jimmy?" I asked. The boy grinned and nodded. "Well, Jimmy," I said to him as he held his hand on my knee, "as long as you've seen this much of me I might as well let you see everything. Watch."
I unsnapped my skirt at the waist and it opened up right before his eyes. As that little mini of mine unfolded the boy was treated to seeing the first bare muff of his life. What a lucky boy he was to have a willing and understanding aunt.
I pressed my lips to his and I kissed him. He was still in the basic habit of giving those childish lip kisses, not the deep lip-parting kisses that grown men and women want. So as I kissed him again I forced my hand to his jaw. I managed to force his lips apart and his tongue reluctantly was visited by mine.
If the boy's penis had been any harder it would have jabbed through the crotch of his pants. I reached down there to his belt. As I unbuckled it he tried to stop me at first.
"Are ... are you going for my private parts?" he asked me.
"Jimmy!" I said in shock. "Of course I am. What are you, a man or a boy?"
He said nothing. He let me continue. I opened his pants and forced him to pull down his pants and his underwear. Down everything came as he wriggled his garments down to his knees. His penis, glistening with moisture in his little spout, was hard and pointing up at me the way the needle of a compass points north. I ran my fingers up and down his long blue veined rod.
"Very masculine," I said as I tenderly touched my nephew's rod. "Your little girlfriend is missing quite a bit. Later on in life she'll be sorry she didn't let you bang her."
The boy could hardly answer. I knew I had his penis on the brink of orgasm. I massaged his member tenderly but I didn't overdo it. I wanted a good come to start the weekend off with. Then we could have some real fun for the next few days until his parents returned home.
He pulled off his shirt and the boy's young body was completely nude in front of me. I brought him back down onto the couch with me. I had him kiss each of my breasts as I cupped my hands underneath them again. The boy liked that assignment. He even confessed that he'd had a desire for a long time to kiss a nice pair of fully developed nipples.
"And you never have?" I asked him.
"Not until now," he said as he continued to nibble playfully on my left nipple.
I shook my head in amazement. "We older folk in our late twenties hear so much about the new promiscuity that we think all of the early teenagers are cockwise by fourteen," I said as he switched nipples and began to suck on my right boob.
He pushed his hands to the breast like a bear-cub working on a plastic nippled bottle. He sucked my boob as if he were trying to draw milk out of it. I stroked his penis with a light touch of one hand as he sucked on me.
"But the fact of the matter is, Jimmy," I continued as I pondered the fact that these were the first boobs he'd seen, "that either you've been hanging around the wrong women or the young girls today are actually tighter than a mouse's asshole."
He didn't reply. I then talked him into trying something that he was hesitant about at first.
"Do you remember how you kissed me on the lips a few seconds ago?" I asked him.
He nodded.
"Well," I continued, "before you fuck most women they'll want you to kiss them that same way a second time. You know, with your tongue out of your mouth and swishing up and down between your lips."
He moved to kiss me again on the face. I stopped him. "Not there?" I said. "On the other lips."
"The other lips?"
"The pussy lips," I said. I motioned to my muff and I spread my long legs apart. Jimmy hesitated but within a few more seconds I had the lad's fair head tucked between my legs as his tongue swished back and forth inside my vagina. He liked the taste, as most boys do instantly, and wanted to lap me for several long minutes.
I then moved his body to a position where he was lying right on his back on that sofa. "What happens now?" he asked.
"Now? It's time for fucking now," I explained.
As the youth of fourteen, my little handsome blond nephew, lay back on that couch with his prick sticking up toward the ceiling, I threw one leg across him and straddled him with my legs. Instinctively he reached up and held my nipples by pressing his palms against my tits. I could feel those tits of mine go rock hard in his hands. And I moved my pussy accordingly.
As I straddled the boy I worked my pussy into position above his immense rigid prong.
"I'm starting you off on an advanced lesson," I said to my nephew as he toyed with my big excited boobs. "Most boys don't get this position until they've fucked quite a bit. But it's very easy for the male since all he needs to do is lie there and hold his erection."
"And do you like this position, too?" my nephew asked me.
"Oh, Jimmy," I whispered to him as I leaned forward to kiss him. "It's so considerate of you to ask. It happens that of all the positions I know, this is my favorite. When I've got a particularly intense need down in my vagina, this position allows me to pound my way up and down on a prick and wham the cock far enough up me to satisfy myself."
"Gosh," he said.
"So you just sit tight, don't worry and I'll give you the ride of your life. Give me a five second warning before you plan to come."
I hovered my slot above the boy's phallus. Then slowly I began to lower my slot onto the big thick convoluted head of his penis.
"Oh, Aunt Marilyn," he moaned to me as my wet slot came down and began to envelop his long thick rod. "Oh, Aunt Marilyn, it feels so good."
"Don't lose control, Jimmy," I said to him, "The object is to stay as hard as possible for as long as possible. That way the enjoyment will be the maximum for the man and the woman."
I slowly lowered my vagina further until I had taken the boy's entire shaft into me. He had his hands still pressed up against my boobs as I lowered my vagina all the way down to his balls. As I started to hop up and down on that long shaft, grinding it in and out of me, my nephew began to milk my boobs with pumping hand motions that I'd never felt so thoroughly before. I started to hold my vagina firmly down on his prick as long as possible. But the boy, an instinctively good cocksman, started to pump his fresh young penis right up into me.
"Jimmy, you're terrific," I gasped to him as he drove the big tool of his up into me from underneath. That rod was sending my pussy into deep shudders of orgasm. I loved every thrust of it.
His penis swelled up to an enormous length as he continued to milk my boobs. I could feel that the boy wasn't far from ejaculation. I wasn't dissatisfied, though. I could feel my pussy alive with orgasms. I planned a good big final one to coincide with his come.
"Five seconds," he gasped, giving me the short warning that I'd requested. I banged my pussy down with three short intense strokes. I started to orgasm hard for the final time. I knew my nephew was about to gush the first seeds of his young manhood up into me. That thought was so erotic that I did in fact get off one of the best orgasms I'd ever had.
His penis spurted its hot gushing load right upwards into me. His penis seemed to buckle, spasm and spit as the come squirted straight upward into me. I can't always feel the sperm when men come, doctor, but I sure could that time. All that hot juicy warmth went shooting straight up and into me from his prick. Not only did I feel his foaming hot load, but I opened my mouth and screamed with the pure joy of receiving it....
...Miss S. concluded her account of the seduction of young Jimmy. With time expiring in our interview session I made a few final notes and then questioned her briefly before inviting her back for a second interview.
"You said something of extreme interest at the end of your story, Ms. S.," I said to her. "You said that just before you had your final orgasm you thought of how you were seducing a young boy for the first time. Did the fact that this was your virgin nephew add to your excitement and enjoyment of intercourse?"
"No doubt about it, doctor," she said. "It was almost all I could think of. Each time I looked down at that boy I could see in him the likeness of my sister, his mother. It reminded me so much of my sister that I almost felt like I was fucking her. I did fuck one of my sisters, doctor. You haven't forgotten that already, have you?"
"Not at all," I assured her. "But what about Jimmy. You were alone with him for the entire weekend? Did you have sex more than once?"
"We must have done it over ten times," she said proudly. "That boy could manufacture gallons of sperm to shoot up into me. He'd just never run dry. After he got over the initial inhibitions he became a fantastic little cocksman. Of course, I knew from the start that he was equipped to be sensational."
"And your affair continues to this day?" I asked.
"That's right," said Miss S. "He's sixteen now and I'm thirty. But we're still doing it. Just the other day I took him by surprise. Do you want to hear about that?"
"I'd love to, Ms. S.," I said to the attractive young woman. "But not until our next meeting."
I excused Miss S. at that point and filed her notes in my desk drawer. As soon as Miss S. left my office I was confronted with what we call an "emergency case", a woman who had just committed incest that morning and desperately needed to talk with a professional person about her act. The woman, I might add, was a forty-one year old woman who, while staying at her half-brother's apartment, had allowed herself to go to bed with her half-brother and both of his teenage sons. The woman talked with me at length and did not permit me to evaluate the case of Miss Marilyn S. until her next meeting with me, a meeting at which she revealed a most bizarre sexual "game" which she and her nephew continue to play.
* * *
Before moving directly into the actual tape recorded words of Miss S., I feel a slight review of her case is in order.
Two salient aspects of her case came to my mind immediately when I reviewed my notes in anticipation of her return to my office.
First, Miss S. was obviously a modern young woman who would consider all forms of sexual acts. She stated this in her open rejection of permanent links with any one man. But she also stated this more subtly when she confessed to the incestuous indiscretions of her youth.
Miss S. admitted to having sex with her older brother at the age of sixteen. She also admitted to having enjoyed the act while it was being committed. Then Miss S. confessed to having a serious sexual affair with her younger sister. The affair consisted in "dozens" of encounters, most of which were implied to have included oral-genital contact between the two sisters.
Thus a pattern for incest had been early developed in Miss S. When the situation with her young nephew presented itself, Miss S. didn't just seize an opportunity, she actively created an opportunity and then seized it.
Second, the concept of incest thrilled Miss S. just as it thrills many normal American men and women. This Miss S. testified to in the closing moments of her account of her nephew's seduction. She re-affirmed the idea under questioning at the close of that interview session and thus it is not difficult to understand why Miss S. plays the sexual "game" with her nephew which she described to me in her second visit to my offices.
"When we concluded last time you were about to tell me how you 'took your nephew by surprise'," I reminded her. "Would you explain what you meant by this?"
"It was simple, doctor," she said to me. "He woke up and I was poised and ready to fuck. Right under his mother's nose."
"Under your own sister's nose you seduced the boy?" I asked.
"Don't use the word seduce, doctor," Miss S. complained. "That implies that either there was a struggle or that I tricked him into fucking me. That's not the case. I took him by surprise, but when he realized what was happening there sure wasn't any rape scene."
"Just what kind of a scene was there?" I pressed.
Miss S., lying on my couch with her hands behind her head, crossed her legs as her short skirt rustled slightly above her thighs. Then she told me this odd but amusing story....
...You see, doctor, no sexual relationship can possibly continue unless both partners add a little variety to things. I taught that to my little nephew right from the start. So Jimmy and I worked out a little game which has added an incredible amount of fun to our sexual activity. I'd advise other people to try it, too. You don't even have to be screwing with a relative to get a jolt out of it.
We call the game "Take Me by Surprise" or "Take Me Where You Want Me". The object of the game is very simple. The object is for one partner to try to fuck the other partner in a weird or unusual place. In other words, to take the other partner by surprise and then demand sex in a weird spot.
I'll give you an example or two. One time when I took Jimmy by surprise it was right at the lunch time break at his school.
I came to the school and hid in the corridor outside his classroom until the kiddies got out for lunch. Then I grabbed Jimmy's hand as he came out of his home room. He knew what I wanted right away but by the rules of the game he couldn't resist.
I took him to the room where the five-year-old children have their pre-school classes. There's a great big mat in their room where they all lie down for some sort of nap time which they have in the afternoon. Well, doctor, that big mat makes for a good spot for fucking.
I led Jimmy to their room and threw up my skirt, showing him that I didn't have any panties on underneath. There were only ten minutes left before those little pre-schoolers would be filing back into the room. I forced Jimmy to satisfy me in those ten minutes. It was fantastically exciting, doctor, because as we were fucking we kept thinking that either the little kiddies or the old matron who taught them, would come back into the room.
Then Jimmy got back even with me a few days later. I was out behind the house I live in watering some of my plants. All I was wearing was a skimpy little bathing suit. Well, Jimmy, turned up and claimed me. He demanded to have sex right down in the flower bed behind the house.
The exciting part of that was that we were clearly visible from the street if anybody happened to look in from the proper angle. Jimmy got down on the bottom and I had to sit up on top and throb my vagina down onto him until he came. At least three people saw us, particularly when I sat straight up. Sitting straight up my boobs swung above the height of the flowers. Right in the middle of an orgasm I looked to the street to see that a woman walking a baby carriage was looking at me.
But the best time that I caught my nephew by surprise was the time I got him right under his mother's nose at his house in his very own bedroom. This happened a short time ago doctor. Every time I think about it I still can feel my pussy start to tingle anew.
Up until this particular time, doctor, neither of us had been able to take the other by surprise within the other person's house. But I managed to do it without my sister even getting suspicious.
What I did was drop in to see my sister early on a Sunday morning, the morning which she and her husband like to get up early but on which Jimmy likes to sleep late.
I sat downstairs with my sister and brother in law and we enjoyed some coffee and rolls. Along about ten o'clock I got to inquire about Jimmy. I asked where he was and what he was doing. They said that it was almost time for Jimmy to get up, but he wasn't up yet.
"Why don't I go get him up?" I asked. "That'll surprise him."
His mother and father thought it would be a fun idea. So up I went to Jimmy's bedroom. I opened the door and peeked in. There he was on his bed, lying under one sheet and facing straight up.
Well, doctor, once again I had dressed for the occasion. I was wearing a rather short skirt, but I hadn't bothered with panties underneath. Panties are nothing but a hindrance when you're trying to sneak in a quick fuck on the run, something which I find I'm trying to do quite often.
I tiptoed to Jimmy's bed. All I had on was my blouse, my skirt and my knee high white vinyl boots. I carefully pulled the sheet off the top of his sleeping body. And I was met with a wonderful surprise in light of what I'd come to do.
Like many boys, Jimmy had an erection while he was sleeping. I've found, doctor, that if you check the crotch of any male who's within the last hour of his sleep, you'll find an erection. It was particularly handy in this case because Jimmy's erection was poking right up through the little pair of boxer shorts which he'd worn to bed.
"What a surprise this will be for the boy," I said to him. "He'll wake up with me on top of him. Within seconds after awakening he'll be servicing my pussy."
I climbed on top of the bed, straddled his body and pulled that short skirt of mine right up to my waist so that he'd have a clear shot at my naked lower half. I had been anticipating doing this all morning so my pussy was already soaking wet. The only help it would need, I figured, would be a few little french kisses down there. And there was a very convenient way of getting those and waking up Jimmy at the same time.
As I straddled his sleeping body he began to wake up. His eyes were beginning to open and I moved my pussy up from his waist, over his chest until it was positioned right over his mouth. I love to sit on the faces of young boys, doctor. I love to drench them with my femininity.
His eyes opened and nearly popped out of his young skull again.
"Good morning, Jimmy," I said, winning the old "Take Me By Surprise" game. "I thought you might need a little pussy lick to get you going in the morning."
With those words I gently brought my furry muff firmly down on the boy's mouth. He was stunned and shocked that I was able to catch him and sit on his face right while he was sleeping in his own home. But that only made the score sweeter for me. I had my pussy on his mouth and I had won the game. He had to keep his part of the deal and service me quickly.
"Hurry, Jimmy," I said as I rubbed my pussy across his mouth lightly. "Don't fart around or your Mom and Dad will be up to see what's taking me so long in your room." I motioned to the half opened door and Jimmy got the message. His mouth opened and that delightful long wet tongue of his started to sweep across the length of my vagina, gliding firmly across the clit as his hands came around and held me by the buttocks.
It's handy that boys wake up with erections. Jimmy's prick was all ready to go and even had saved up a little sperm for me over night. As Jimmy slurped his big tongue up and down the length of my pussy, I couldn't wait to move down to his crotch and take a seat on his prick. Jimmy's tongue teased and tormented my poor clit and then shoved its way straight up my vaginal canal. I twisted and turned all over his tongue. Then, as I pulled myself up from his face, the boy gasped for breath.
"How'd you get in here?" the boy asked.
"I'll explain later," I said as I moved my loins down to where I hovered my wet slot above his prick. "The only thing that matters now," I told my nephew, "is not getting caught. Get that prick in me and start me orgasming!"
I brought my vagina down on that big erect stick of his, drawing the prick up into me and letting the boy jounce it straight back into my slot. I undulated the walls of my pussy against his erect throbbing shaft. I banged my clit down on him and I even started to moan softly as that long cock of his started to orgasm my pussy.
"My lovely little nephew," I moaned to him as I leaned forward and kissed him on the lips.
He smiled. "My favorite aunt," he grinned back. He gave me a few special loving thrusts of his penis and orgasmed me hard as our lips met and as we exchanged a long wet kiss. The boy's hands were riding on my hips and holding me firmly. I could hear his parents talking downstairs. I prayed that they wouldn't come upstairs and wonder what was taking so long in Jimmy's bedroom.
As I methodically moved my vagina up and down on the boy's prick, I could feel his organ swell up to its maximum length. I was orgasming hard and my vaginal walls were vibrating back and forth on his big cock.
"Aunt Marilyn," he moaned to me as he continued to drive his organ up and into me. "I'm going to come."
"Jimmy, darling," I cooed to my nephew as I kissed him again. "Hold it for just a second more."
He continued to stroke me. But as I kissed him I could feel that he was holding his body rigid to withhold his orgasm. I pounded my pussy downward on him again. I started to orgasm hard. It was time. He could come, too.
"Now, Jimmy," I moaned to him. "Come now!"
Just as I spoke those words his penis let loose with a hard spurting gushing torrent of hot come. I could feel his organ spurting its hot load all the way up into me, spattering the seeds all the way back against the base of my vagina. For one of the few times ever I've been fucking someone I lost complete control of myself. I started to bark out obscenities.
"Cunt!" I roared, easily loud enough for his parents downstairs to hear. "Motherfuck! Balls! Pussy! Penis!"
His penis kept pumping seeds up at me, driving the hot juice upwards into the most sensitive areas of my pussy. I could feel every drop shooting up into me. Each hot drop made me curse louder.
"Asshole!" I roared. "Tits! Clit! Cock!"
His penis spasmed its full load and then dribbled limp. "Shit!" I?asped as I felt the last drops spurt upwards into ne. "Come! Snatch! Gonads!"
I was panting furiously for my breath. So was Jimmy. But I knew my howling hadn't done us any good. As I lifted my pussy off my nephew's slick wet prick I could hear his mother and father downstairs. They were scurrying to the stairs and were coming upstairs. Anything good enough to shout about is usually good enough to attract a crowd.
Hearing his parents coming upstairs, I sprung off his bed and got to my feet, pulling my skirt down to cover my wet orgasmed pussy. Just as Jimmy pulled the sheet back up over him they came through the door.
"What was that all about?" Jimmy's father asked me.
"I stubbed my toe," I explained meekly. "In any case, I woke Jimmy up."
My sister and her husband looked at me and looked at Jimmy. Both of us smiled meekly. Then they looked back at me, back at Jimmy, and then at the both of us. I gave them a great big smile and although they were very suspicious they fortunately never noticed the stream of juice rolling out of my pussy and going straight down my legs....
..."So you got away with it?" I asked Miss S.
"We did," said Miss S. "It was a close call for Jimmy and me but that's what made it exciting. It was the closest we've ever come to getting caught right in the midst of the act."
"What led you to curse so loud and so vividly?" I asked her.
"I guess it was the illicitness of what we were doing," Miss S. conceded. "I was incredibly turned on by the fact that I was getting screwed by my nephew right in his own bed and right beneath the collective noses of his parents. The parents, by the way, profited by the incident, too."
"Why do you say that?" I asked Miss S.
"My sister later confided that hearing all those obscenities reminded her husband of the way she used to bark them out when he was fucking her. It turned him on so much that they sent Jimmy out of the house for the morning and fucked three times in three different rooms of the house."
"Hearing obscenities cursed like that does tend to arouse some people," I noted.
"It aroused Jimmy, too," Miss S. explained. "My little nephew telephoned me later that same day. He said that he was so turned on by my howling that morning that his penis got off a good three extra shots. Then it left him so horny that he wanted to come over to my place that same afternoon and fuck some more."
"Did you let him?" I asked.
"Of course I did," Miss S. said. "After all, he's my loving little nephew. I screw for him whenever he wants it. It's that simple."
"Thank you, Miss S.," I said. "No further questions."
Sex games such as the ones played by Miss S. and her nephew are certainly not uncommon in America today. It is a bit more unusual to find such games appearing between an aunt and her nephew, but the fact that Miss S. and Jimmy were using such games only attests to the fact that each of them desired sexual experiences that would be extremely intense.
The fact that incest carries an extra thrill in the mind of the participant is once again re-affirmed in the closing moments of my second interview with Miss S. She noted that it was the "illicitness" of what she was doing which thrilled her. It wasn't just the illicitness of time and place (although that was the whole point of her game) but also the illicitness of who their partner was. The illicitness, in short, was the thrill of incest. Patient after patient has remarked to me about this thrill. I'm told that only one who has partaken in an incestuous act can truly appreciate and understand this thrill. Considering how many people indulge in these acts and then return to do it again, I don't doubt this assertion at all.
CASE HISTORY Four, which follows, again deals with the most frequently found form of incest: intercourse between mother and son. This case, however, narrated by Mrs. Rhonda W. is a trifle unusual because this time the mother was the seductee rather than the seductress.
CASE HISTORY FOUR
The case of Mrs. Rhonda W. began innocently enough when her son, Larry, sixteen-years-old, informed his mother that he had a sore throat and couldn't go to school that day. As it turned out, it wasn't Larry's throat which was the part of his body he was concerned with. Larry was concerned with his penis and whether or not he could put it into his mother.
"The boy tricked me, doctor," Mrs. W. said to me as she explained how her son had stayed home from school one day to seduce her. "I guess I should have known it was coming. I guess I should have suspected something. But I didn't. I was a sucker."
"How long ago did this happen?" I asked her.
"About four months ago," she replied. "On a morning in October."
Mrs. W., thirty-five years of age, was an attractive young housewife from one of the wealthy communities just outside of New York City. To all outward appearances, Mrs. W. appeared to be a well spoken and content young American housewife. In fact, she was. But she was also having an intense incestuous affair with the oldest of her three children.
"The boy seduced you first about five months ago," I repeated. "Has he had sex with you again since then?"
"Yes," she nodded slowly, attempting to retain an emotionless tone of voice.
"Very often," she affirmed. "Sometimes my Larry and I ball about ten times a week. Sometimes it's less if we don't have the time or think we might get caught. But usually we average at least one screw a day."
"I'd call that an excessive affair," I had to admit.
"You can call it whatever you like, doctor," she said dryly, "It's happening."
"It's happening and you appear to be pleased with it, to say the least," I said.
"I'm happy," she said. "My son takes good care of his mother."
"Does your husband know?" I asked.
"No," Mrs. W. replied.
"Does he suspect?"
"I doubt it," she said. "My husband is a bit on the dense side. Sometimes I think that if an elephant took a shit in the living room my husband probably wouldn't notice it for at least a week."
"I don't want to deal into your husband's personality," I said, "but I do want to find out about this affair you're having with your son. You seem to have sex very often."
"Is there something wrong with that?" she asked.
"That's not the point, Mrs. W.," I said. "Originally you told me that you were seduced. Then you told me that you've been having an intense affair which results in intercourse often more than once a day. Nobody gets seduced ten times a week without wanting to be."
"I never said that I was seduced unwillingly, doctor," she said. "I only stated that Larry tricked me the first time we had sex. He told me he was sick and couldn't go to school. I kept him home and two hours later when we were the only ones home I found myself naked in bed with him.
"Enjoying it?" I asked.
"Of course I enjoyed it," she said. "Do I look like a queer or something? My son gives me the best dick I've ever had in my life. Any mother would like what my son Larry gives me." Mrs. W. twisted the ring on her left hand as she spoke. She had betrayed much more of her emotional involvement than she had hoped to.
"Obviously then," I pressed, "you not only enjoyed it the first time but it was so thrilling for you that you've allowed the affair to continue strongly for close to twenty weeks. Am I right?"
"You're right," she said. "Just don't try to put me down for what I'm doing. I won't let any shrink make me feel like a pervert."
At that time, before asking Mrs. W. to continue with her story, I felt it advisable to counsel her slightly. I advised her that there was absolutely nothing intrinsically immoral or sick or perverted about what she was doing. I opened my files to her and asked her to brouse through all the case histories I had of women and men who had been in bed with their parents, children or brothers or sisters. Mrs. W. was noticeably impressed.
"You spoke to all these people?" she asked. She was particularly intrigued with the case of a man seduced by his sixteen-year-old niece, a case which appears in Volume One of this collection and which many readers have reported being particularly intrigued with.
"All of them," I said. "And I'm scheduled to speak with many more."
"I had no idea that incest was so common these days," she said.
"Few people do realize it," I told her candidly. "The fact is that the desire for incest is very prevalent among many American adults these days. But since the subject was once very hush-hush, people don't like to talk outside their immediate families. That's why incest is practiced on a broad basis these days yet people hear very little of it."
"Amazing," she said. "I guess what happened to me is not that unusual then."
"The fact that you have sex with your son is not that unusual," I said. "But the fact that it was he who seduced you is a bit more unusual. Would you care to tell me more about it?"
Mrs. W., reassured now about what she'd been doing, was ready to give me this testimony....
...I have three children, doctor. There's Larry who's sixteen. Rose, my only daughter, who's thirteen, and another son, Ray, who's ten. All of my children are good kids. With the exception of the time Larry faked being sick so that he could stay home and fuck me, I've never known any of them to do anything sneaky or dishonest.
Let me tell you about how Larry stayed home and made a fallen woman out of me. He came to me in the morning and told me that his throat was so sore that he could hardly speak. Well, he put on a pretty good performance. I believed him. He never before had faked sickness to avoid school so I was pretty easily deceived.
I sent off the other children to school and I sent off my husband to work. Then I let Larry go back to bed to try to sleep off his illness and gather strength. Well, little did I know of the strength that he'd already gathered down in those heaving strong loins of his. Right down in my son's sixteen-year-old cock I found the strength and hardness that I'd associate with a gorilla.
I let Larry sleep for a few hours. Then I went up to his bedroom at about eleven o'clock in the morning. I looked into his room and saw him lying very still in bed.
"Larry?" I asked.
"Yes, Ma?" he said, opening his eyes and looking up at me. He gave me a big smile. He must have had a good sleep, I figured, because he sure didn't look very sick anymore.
"I just came up to see how you're doing," I said to him. "Can I come in?"
"Sure, Ma," he said. He sat up in his bed a little bit, propping his head and upper back up against a pillow that was against the wall. I noticed instantly that he didn't have anything on above the waist.
"You should have an undershirt on or an old pajama top," I said to him in my best maternal voice of authority. "Otherwise you won't get well in a hurry."
"I don't want anything on, Ma," he said to me.
"Don't you have anything on at all?" I asked, pondering the fact that below that sheet and bedspread and blanket my sixteen-year-old son was nude.
"Nothing, Ma," he said. "I don't want anything on."
"Why not?" I asked, taking the bait completely.
"Because it hurts down there," he said. "I've got a terrible ache down in my lower parts."
I was genuinely concerned about my son now. I sat down on the side of the bed to comfort him.
"Poor Larry," I said to him as I felt his brow with my hand. "Can you show me where it hurts?"
"Let me have your hand, Ma," he said to me. "I'll show you exactly where it hurts."
Stupid me. I wasn't the least bit aware of the devious thoughts running through the mind of my very own son. He took my hand in his and he guided it under the covers.
At first his hand guided mine over the flat smooth muscles of his chest. Then I was aware that his hand was guiding mine lower. It was going down past his navel and then to his lower belly toward his unmentionable.
"My lord!" I thought to myself. "He's going to put my hand on his ... on his penis!"
He didn't. His hand stopped just short of his crotch. He pulled his own hand away and left mine there.
"It hurts just a little bit lower, Ma," he said, looking me right in the eye.
"Larry?" I asked suspiciously. "Are you playing a dirty joke on me?"
"Ma, please," he said to me. "Just feel where it hurts."
Again I took the bait. I moved my hand down a few more inches. Larry gave a little wriggle.
"There, Ma! There! Don't let go!"
As my hand moved down on him the big hard shaft of my son's erect penis moved right into my hand. I guess a lot of women would have screamed and pulled their hands away. But I didn't. My reactions were those of shock and amazement. You see, doctor, as my hand wrapped slowly around the big hard prong that was at my son's crotch, I was stunned with the size and rigidity of my boy's organ.
"That hurts?" I asked him as I held his hard penis in my hand.
He nodded. He was smiling and nodding and the smile was not the smile of someone who was sick. It was the smile of a horny boy who has put something over on someone.
"That hurts a lot, Ma," he said. "Please don't let go."
"You're trying to tell me that it's your penis that hurts?" I asked. "That's right, Ma."
"Why is it erect if it hurts?" I asked.
"Please, Ma," he said. "Don't ask questions. Just hold it and rub it. You're making it feel much better already."
Well, like a true sucker I continued to take every piece of bait that he threw me. I started to slowly move my hand up and down that long shaft of his, working the sheets and covers away from that big prong of his.
"That feels better?" I asked him.
"It sure does, Ma," he said. "Any guy would feel better when his penis is being caressed. Especially if it's being caressed with a really beautiful mother like you."
"Oh, Larry," I said, blushing at his flattery. "You don't have to flatter me like that."
"Oh, but that's what I think, Ma," he said. "I really think you're a beautiful woman."
Again I blushed. And I almost lost complete track of the fact that I was caressing my son's penis.
"Ma?" he then said to me. "I have a request that's going to sound really strange. You're going to think I'm really weird for asking it."
"What is it?" I asked.
"I don't know whether I should ask you," he said. "You'll probably get mad and hit me."
"I won't hit you, Larry," I said as I continued to move my palm up and back with soothing rubbing strokes on his penis. "Don't be silly."
"You promise you won't hit me and you promise you won't get mad?" he asked.
"I promise, Larry," I said.
"I really think you're the most beautiful woman in the world," he said. "I really do."
"Thank you, Larry," I said again, again trying to hide my blush.
"But do you know what the most beautiful and most feminine parts of a woman are, Ma?" he asked.
I thought for a moment. My massaging hand even stopped for a few seconds as I thought. Larry bumped my hand and made me continue my stroking as I thought.
"The breasts, I suppose," I said.
"Exactly," he said. "Can I see yours?"
"See mine?" I exclaimed. I was about to come out with a definite and very loud "no". But two things happened. My boy was looking at me with longing helpless boyish eyes. And I felt a strange surge in my body. My pussy got just a trifle warm and damp while my nipples began to erect, just as they always do when I get sexually excited.
"Please, Ma?" he asked. "I want to know what a really beautiful woman looks like in her most beautiful and private place."
"I ... I don't think it would be right," I tried to tell him. I was searching for a way to say no, even though I already knew I was going to give in.
"Why wouldn't it be right?" he asked.
"It's not natural for a mother to show her son her bosoms," I protested.
"Ma? What are you saying? Of course it's natural. You showed your breasts to me when I was real young. And you know as well as I do that you've always said that a woman only shows her body to those she loves. Haven't you always said that, Ma?"
"Yes, Larry," I conceded, "I-"
"Don't you love me, Ma?" he asked with a hurt voice. My hand was moving more rapidly on his penis now. I was getting both upset and excited.
"Of course I love you," I answered.
"If you love me you'll show me your breasts," he said. "That's all there is to it. It'll be very interesting to see if my mother really loves me or not."
My poor sick son had me on that one, doctor. I moved my hand that wasn't on his prick and I began to unbutton my blouse. I unbuttoned it completely down the front. Then I opened it. He could see my boobs beneath my bra.
"Aw, heck, Ma," he said. "Take the bra off, too. A guy can't tell about boobs if there's a bra on them."
I slipped that blouse completely off. Then I turned my back to my son and had him unhook my bra from the back. When it was unhooked it slid down and off.
"Now, Ma," he said. "Please turn around. I really want to see them."
Bare from the waist up I turned slowly back to my son. His eyes gazed intently on the big hard nipples on the crest of each boob. As I continued to move my hand up and down the shaft of his penis, I could feel his organ getting even harder.
"Gosh, Ma," he said. "They are beautiful."
I was going to stop him right there but I couldn't. He leaned his head to my boobs and pressed his lips right to the tit which was nearest to him. He puckered his lips and then sucked the nipple into his mouth.
"Oh, Larry," I moaned. I was about to push his mouth away with my free hand. But I couldn't, I just couldn't push him away. He was making my nipples erect. It felt fabulous. My husband often kisses my nipples during love-making, but never does he do it the way my son was doing it. Maybe I was just starved for some sort of affection like that. Anyway, I felt myself melting into my son's arms. I knew that if he was going to try to fuck me I wasn't going to be able to resist very much.
He wrapped one arm around me and pulled me down into the bed with him. He pulled the sheets and covers off his naked body. For the first time I saw the big blue-veined organ which I had been handling, the organ which was the real reason why Larry had wanted to stay home that day.
Before I knew what he was doing, he reached beneath my skirt. His fingers and hands were pushing firmly up against my crotch. I moved both of my hands down to defend my vital area against my son's assaults. But not only was he stronger than I was, he had a better plan of strategy.
Just when I had both of my hands down to my crotch trying to push his hands away from me, he pushed his face back to my boobs. This time he took the other nipple between his lips and began to milk that one with deep sucking motions. Not only did it turn my breasts on, doctor, but it made my pussy start to moisten again. And when my pussy moistened, my pussy became sexually excited. When that happened I began to stop thinking about pushing his hands away. Instead of pushing them away I wanted them down there to caress my most private area.
I let his hand slip in there and I moved my own hand back to his big rod. I was fascinated that my son whom I'd rocked in a cradle sixteen years before had grown such a big hard prick. As he continued to nip at my tits I was swept away with a desire to kiss his penis.
I worked his penis over with my hand and I allowed him to take off my skirt and pull down my panties. I pushed my face to my son's penis and before I knew what I was doing I had cupped my hands around his balls and was licking that long hard organ of his.
"Larry," I moaned to him, "I never believed that you were so big."
He kissed one nipple as he toyed with the other. Then he poked a finger directly down to my pussy. His fingers began to drift through my pubic hair and search out the crack of my vagina.
One finger then started to rub against my clitoris. When that began I knew I was through. I'm like most women, doctor. If a man can get his finger on my clit he can always end up fucking me.
"You are beautiful, Ma," he told me as he admired my boobs and played with my pussy, stroking his long caressing fingers back and forth in my vagina. I was proud that my son loved me so much that he'd play with my body. But I certainly wasn't ready for what he did next.
My husband is a bit of an old fashioned type, doctor. He doesn't believe in oral-genital sex. Well, the new generation of boys are obviously much better lovers. My son withdrew his fingers from my pussy and moved his head down there.
"Oh, Larry," I moaned to him. "No. Not really!"
Who listens to his mother these days, doctor? I told the boy I'd never had my pussy licked, but he pushed his face right down to it anyway, bringing his mouth down just inside my thigh.
He started to kiss the top of my inner thigh, just below my pussy. Then he worked upwards. He kissed all over my bush without thrusting his tongue any farther into me. Then he started to dart that tongue of his through the pussy hair and down into the vaginal crack. I embraced his lower section when I felt his tongue press against my clitoris. I wriggled my lower half and I opened my legs as wide as possible.
This was the first time I'd gotten my pussy licked, doctor. I guess women of my generation don't get it that way often because I'd asked most of my friends at the beauty parlor whether their husbands would do it to them. Most of them said no, even though their husbands demanded some prick sucking as part of any sex act. So this was the first time I'd ever gotten my pussy licked, doctor. And like any normal woman, I loved it. I didn't care that it was my son Larry who was doing it to me and I didn't care that he'd tricked me into bed with him. His strong young body had made me feel like a vigorous young girl again. I was greatly indebted to my son.
I took his penis into my mouth and sucked on it to complete what the kids today call a sixty-nine. I licked his penis furiously until he pulled his face away from my soaking wet pussy.
"Larry?" I asked my sixteen-year-old son, my voice nearly choking with emotion. I was very much afraid that we were going to do something wrong. Yet my body told me what felt good. And I knew I had to go through with what was beginning to be the best sex I'd had in years. "Larry, do you think it's all right that we do it?"
"Ma," he answered with an impassioned voice. "Of course, it's all right. We love each other, don't we?"
"Yes, but-"
"Then don't worry," he said. "People who are in physical love with each other have to complete the act of physical love."
"But-"
"Even if they're mother and son," he said. "They have to do it. It would be disgusting and perverted if they didn't."
"Oh, Larry," I moaned to him as he pressed his firm young hands against my tits. "You make my poor body feel so warm and appreciated."
"That just proves I was right, Ma," he said. "When your body says yes you shouldn't argue."
My son moved my body around and he wrapped me in his arms. His penis was jutting against my navel at that time. We kissed passionately and then I wrapped by arms tightly around his trunk, holding my hands against the firm muscular buttocks which I knew would soon be rising and falling on top of me.
As my nipples pressed directly against my son's bare chest he moved his fingers across the crease of my vagina for the final time. The tips of his fingers aroused my clitoris so much that I felt like orgasming right onto his fingers. But I didn't have to. Within a few more seconds my son's penis was inserted into my vagina.
I lay out on my back with my legs open wide to my son. He crawled on top of me, holding one of my breasts as he mounted me and kissing me intensely on the lips. My nipples were like hot stones by now. And my vagina, the one he had been born through sixteen years earlier, was raging for his hardness to be inserted.
He pushed his loins between my legs. The firm big head of his penis shoved its way into my vagina. I shuddered with joy.
"Oh, Larry," I moaned to my son. "What a huge dick you've got!"
He pushed it further in and the whole long shaft of his phallus slipped between my vaginal folds. I ground my bare buttocks against the bed and then I clamped my legs together around him. He pronged me back and forth with that rigid cock of his. I started to orgasm almost immediately.
I could feel my vagina rhythmically responding to that long hammering penis of his. He throbbed it back and forth inside me and brought me to one orgasm after another. Then, as I moved my head from one direction to another, I realized that as I lay beneath my son and satisfied that big penis that he had, I could see us perfectly in the mirror above his dresser.
Either by planning or by accident, the mirror was slanting down just enough so that I could see us. As I watched in the mirror I could see my long legs wrapped around my son as his firm muscular backside rose and fell upon me, gliding that slick hard erection of his straight in and out of me. I sighed and gasped as I could even see one of my breasts wobbling beneath my son's strong chest.
"Larry," I moaned to him as I looked in that mirror. "Look! We are beautiful!"
He didn't stop stroking his long prong in and out of me, but he did turn his head to see our reflection. He smiled when he saw it. And then his attention turned back to me. He kissed me furiously again and his penis felt like it was inflating.
"You're getting so big!" I gasped when I felt his prick harden.
"I'm going to come, Ma," I heard him say.
"Oh, Larry," I gasped back to him, "come hard. Come as hard as you can!"
He worked his tool in and out of me furiously. It continued to swell up with the exercise he was giving it. Then, as both of our heads turned back to that mirror, we started to move toward our mutual climax.
I looked up and watched our bodies pumping, humping and grinding away. I orgasmed hard in anticipation of my son's orgasm. His penis got bigger and bigger and bigger without ever seeming like it was going to stop. Then it happened. That big prick of his spasmed and started to shoot a burning hot load down into me.
"My son! My son!" I gasped aloud as I felt the sperm flowing from his big member. I kissed him again on the lips and ground my vagina upwards toward him as he continued to ejaculate. I orgasmed frantically until he had completed that long hot come of his. Then I let his penis drip into me for the next few seconds. The most glorious sex act of my life was over and I didn't want him to withdraw....
...As Mrs. W. brought her story to a close I noted that time had elapsed in our interview session. I thus asked Mrs. W. to return for a second interview. Before she left, however, we had the following exchange.
"Do you think, Mrs. W.," I asked, "that that first sex act that you committed with your son was really the most 'glorious' one you'd ever had?"
"I do, doctor," Mrs. W. said. "I'd know. It's the type of thing I remember."
"What did it feel like when your son's penis was in?" I asked. "Can you remember?"
"All I know, doctor," she said, "is that one idea kept turning over and over in my mind. I kept thinking, 'He's your son, he's your son.' I couldn't get that thought out of my mind."
"That essentially was what I was getting at, Mrs. W.," I explained. "I want to know whether this was your 'most glorious' sex act because it was a nude and vigorous young man or because it was your son. Please think hard before answering."
"I don't have to think hard about that one, doctor," Mrs. W. said. "It was because he was my son. That's what was making my vagina do all the tricks that it did."
"Thank you, Mrs. W.," I said. "No further questions until next time."
As I excused Mrs. W. for the day I reviewed the notes I'd made on her case. I think there were two outstanding points which the reader might bear in mind. They are very common reactions coming from a woman in Mrs. W.'s situation.
First, I note that Mrs. W. offered very little resistance to her son's very obvious seduction attempts. The boy was clearly trying to seduce her all along. Mrs. W. could not have not realized it, particularly when the boy began to place his mother's hand around his penis. What is important here is that Mrs. W. knew that there was an incestuous attempt brewing yet did nothing to hinder it. Perhaps she was legitimately fascinated with the size of her son's penis when she felt it. Or perhaps the desire for incest within her had already taken hold of her.
I tend to think it had for the reason which leads us to my second point. Like most women engaged in sexual activity with a son, the idea that they were committing incest added to the zest of the act. Mrs. W. admitted that she felt that way when I spoke to her in that short exchange after her interview. Obviously then, the yen for incest was in Mrs. W. all along. It merely took her son's slight deception to satisfy that desire within her.
With the initial contact out of the way, Mrs. W. was free to enjoy the long and frequent affair with her son which she described briefly in her second visit to my offices.
* * *
Within her first interview, Mrs. Rhonda W. had established the fact that incest was a particular thrill for her and that her son was a particularly pleasing lover. She had also established the fact that the affair between her and her son included intercourse very frequently. Bearing all this in mind, I was curious in discovering whether or not Mrs. W. had been involved in any particular incestuous act which was more memorable than the rest of the others.
"You mean was there one particular screw which was better than all the others? Is that what you're asking?"
"Essentially," I admitted.
Mrs. W. smiled and thought for a moment. "There was one last week which was almost unbelievable, doctor," she said. "It was a lot like any other ordinary screw except for the time and place of it."
"Would you describe it for me?" I asked.
Mrs. W. then told me about this odd incident involving her and her son....
...I'm sure you'll understand me, doctor, when I tell you that there are times when a person just must have sex. I'm not talking about a man or a woman in particular. I'm talking about either. Sometimes you just feel like sex and you have to have it.
Well, often my son and I when we know we're alone will just go after the other person on the spur of the moment. That's not that unusual among people who screw. Wives often go to their husbands on the spur of the moment and demand sex. It works the other way, too, with husbands often asking for sex at weird times. Well, in my house it's a little different. My son comes to me or vice versa. Usually the other person just puts out. No questions asked.
I remember very clearly the incident which stands as the most memorable fuck since my affair with Larry started going strong. It happened on a Tuesday afternoon. I know it was Tuesday because that's the afternoon that the ladies come over and play cards with me. And as you'll see, that enters into why this particular screw was so memorable.
Usually on Tuesday afternoons the three ladies whom I play cards with drive over to my house and park right in front of the house. I was out shopping that afternoon and got back to the house early, about a half an hour before the ladies were due to arrive.
But something odd had happened to me that morning during my shopping trip. I'd seen a woman of about forty standing in front of a fancy dress shop with a very handsome and very muscular young man who must have been fifteen years younger than she.
I watched them carefully and they didn't know I was watching. I saw that young man holding her around the waist and occasionally stroking his hand across her buttocks. I knew it was turning her on. Once in a while he even stole a little feel of her breasts right there in public.
Well, doctor, I'm not in favor of public displays of affection, but watching these two people really was turning me on. I could see how lucky a woman she was to have a lover that much younger than she. And that started me to thinking about my son Larry and that king-sized young penis of his. I started to think about Larry's penis and how satisfying it felt when it was jammed into my slot from the underside. Before I knew it, I was the horniest shopper in the shopping center.
I rushed through all the things I had to buy and got ready to hurry home. If that car wasn't parked in front of the house I'd know that the ladies weren't there yet to play cards. And if those old hens weren't there I'd be able to get Larry into giving me a quickie before they arrived.
As I drove back to my house I kept my foot firmly pressed down on the car's accelerator. I drove as quickly as I could without getting reckless. The more I thought of my son's rigid young penis the more I knew that I had to have him before those boring old women came over and got out a deck of cards.
I drove right up to the front of my house and I was elated with what I saw. To be more exact, doctor, I was elated with I didn't see. No car. The ladies weren't there yet.
I parked in front of the house and darted up the front walk. I opened the front door and I looked for Larry.
"Larry?" I called out, hoping my boy was home and hoping that he'd be able to give his dear mother a good pronging before the other three women got there.
"Hi, Ma," I heard him call out to me. And he came walking out of the living room to the front hall. He kissed me on the cheek to greet me.
"None of those cheap little cheek kisses, Larry," I said to my son. "Your mother wants a big wet sexy kiss, right on the lips."
I grabbed him as he tried to protest slightly. I pushed my mouth to kiss, forced his mouth open and exchanged a long deep kiss with him.
"Uh, Ma," he started to stammer. "There's something important I need to tell you."
"I have got something more important to tell you," I announced to him in return.
"You better let me tell you first," he said.
"Not a chance," I said in a voice loud enough to be heard by anyone in the house, "I have to tell you that I am hornier than a bull moose in a cow pasture."
"Ma!" he said in a voice that was strangely quiet. Normally he liked me to tell him things like that. I figured that he'd had a tough day at school and I continued.
"I saw a man with his hand on a woman's buttocks while I was shopping," I told my son. "It made me think of that huge cock you've got down there in your jeans. So your mother has come home to be fucked by her favorite son."
His face was white. I figured that this newly found aggressiveness of mine was having an interesting effect on him. So I continued.
"So, Larry," I said as I stepped onto the big red fluffy shag rug that was in the entrance foyer of our house, "I think you ought to get your pants down and start thinking about satisfying your mother's vagina!"
"Ma, please!" he snapped back.
"What's the matter?" I asked.
"I think you better let me tell you what I have to say," he said.
"Go ahead," I shrugged.
"The ladies who are supposed to play cards with you," he began. "You remember them?"
"I remember those fat old hens. Why?"
"Cecilia called and said she wouldn't have to drive today. She said her car wouldn't start. So they were going to use a taxi instead."
"Fine," I said, cutting him off in the midst of his sentence. "Let them pile their three fat asses into a taxi. They'll probably make the transmission fall out of the cab."
"Ma! Don't talk like that!" he whined.
"It's my house," I said, "and I'll talk whatever way I want about anyone I like."
"But the ladies," he tried to tell me. "they're-"
"Yes, yes," I know I said. "They're due here at any time. Well, I'm not going to worry about them. Just get your pants down and we'll have some fun. Right here on the rug. And right now."
"But, Ma," he protested. "The ladies are-"
"Larry," I said sternly, "not another word about those old crones. I know they'll be here at any time. That's why you have to shut up and get busy with that rod of yours. Do you understand?"
Imploringly, he tried again to speak. "But-"
"One more word, Larry," I said harshly, "and I'll tell your father that I caught you masturbating into your sister's panties. Would you like me to do that?"
Giving up, he shook his head.
"Then get your pants off and get your prick up," I said. "I want a good quickie before those three battle axes show up."
Larry gave me a long look of resignation. Then he reached to his belt and began to unbuckle it.
"That's the boy, Larry," I said to him. "Get that penis out where we can have some fun with it."
I reached to my son's fly and yanked down his zipper to help him along. As he opened his pants I turned my back to him. I had him unzip the long zipper on the back of my dress. As soon as he unzipped me I pulled my dress down and off.
I turned back to him and he had already removed his pants and shirt. All the boy had on was a pair of blue shorts which he'd worn under his pants. As he saw his mother's body getting less and less clad, his penis began to rise.
"Oh, Larry," I said to him in a loud and excited voice, "I can see the meat coming up."
"Yeah, Ma," he said somewhat glumly. "It's on its way up."
I saw the big head of his penis sticking out of his boxer shorts. I reached to the waist of those shorts and I yanked them down, pulling them down past his hairy crotch and down to his ankles where he stepped out of them and was bare before me. Then, clad in just my own panties and bra, I knelt before him and kissed the big thick head of his penis.
"Is that nice, Larry?" I asked. "Does that feel nice?"
The boy seemed to be forgetting whatever it had been that was bothering him.
"Yeah, Ma," he said. "It's nice. Real nice."
I moved my lips back and forth across the head of that penis. I worked the head into my mouth and I rolled the tip of my tongue across the big blue vein underneath his penis. I gave my son everything he wanted and then a little more.
His hands came down to my head and then my shoulders. He held me firmly as he always does when I'm kissing that big penis of his. Then his hands slipped down my arms and went for the hook which held my bra on. He unhooked it. It slid away from my back and my arms. I let my bra fall to the floor and as I knelt there in panties sucking on my son's penis I could feel my nipples pressing against each of his strong muscular young legs.
"I can't wait any more," I then said to my son. "I want to be had by my boy. Right now."
He came down onto the comfortable fluffy shag rug with me. He took one of my breasts in his mouth and held it there as he helped me remove my panties with his other hand.
Once those panties were off and once my bare pussy was exposed to him, I knew my boy would give me the pronging I wanted. By now I had completely forgotten about those three old biddies whom I was supposed to play cards with. I was soon to be reminded, however, doctor. That's what makes this such a memorable fuck.
As my son's fingers greedily covered my pussy and started to stroke their way across my clitoris, I could feel my vagina oozing with the juice that always makes it so warm down there.
"Larry," I moaned to my son, "I'm ready. Take me! Take me!"
"You're sure, Ma?" he asked.
"Give me that cock of yours, Larry," I shrieked. "Give me that big penis. It feels like a baseball bat when you get that cock into your mother!"
I opened my legs wide and lay out completely flat on that big fluffy red rug. I wriggled my hips for my son and I squirmed passionately as he kissed each of my nipples a final time. Then he hopped up on top of me. I was as happy as any mother could be.
"Really jam it!" I begged him. "Really jam it in!"
As he found my slot with that immense rod of his he stuffed it deeply into me. I felt my wet vagina respond instantly, taking that big member of his into the wet pulsating folds of my vagina with a quick envelopment that sent the entire lower half of my body into shudders of joy.
He started to move that long penis of his in and out of me. I wrapped my son in my long lithe legs and I started to pump. I was feeling his hard stroking penis pound rapidly down into me when I suddenly heard voices from somewhere close by. Thinking it was those three women I started to pump faster, trying to get off a few sound orgasms before I'd have to lead my son to a premature climax.
"Quickly, Larry," I whispered to my son as I neared my first big come. "I hear them. They're here already."
"They've been here for fifteen minutes," my son grunted back as he continued the deft downward strokes of his cock.
"What?" I gasped.
"That's what I tried to tell you, Ma," my son said. He continued to pound his penis straight down into my wriggling wet slot. "They took a taxi and arrived early. They're right in the next room."
Gasping as my orgasm started I looked toward the room Larry had indicated. There were the three women I'd been talking about and had been planning to play cards with. They were standing there completely shocked as they watched my son's ass rise and fall on top of me. I was so stunned and so shocked that instead of screaming or trying to get away or cover up, I just stayed put. I wrapped my legs around my son a bit tighter and squeezed. I also wrapped my arms around him. The women could say whatever they wanted about me but I wasn't going to let them ruin an otherwise delightful fuck....
...."You thus allowed the women to watch you have sex with your son?" I asked Mrs. W. as she brought her story to a conclusion.
"That's right," said Mrs. W. "I figured the worst thing they could do was stand and watch. And if they did that it really wouldn't bother me anyway."
"Did they watch?"
"They stayed right till the end. They were there right up until the time my son's big throbbing dick squirted its whole hot load down into me. I squealed when I came and then as soon as my son dismounted and lay face up next to me they started to ask questions."
"Were they angry?" I asked.
"It was an odd reaction. One of the women watched everything and then huffily walked out of the house, screaming something to the effect that I was crazy. But the other two women stayed. In spite of what they'd heard me say about them, they were still friendly. And they wanted to talk to me about incest."
"What did they ask you about it?"
"One of the women was fairly quiet. She volunteered the information that her husband's brother has seduced his daughter a few times. But she swore that she'd never do anything like that with either of her twin nineteen-year-old sons. I told her that she was crazy if she had two nineteen-year-olds and wasn't planning to screw with them."
"What about the other woman?" I asked.
"She came right out and admitted that the idea of balling with her fifteen-year-old turned her on. She said she was going to go home and have a very frank discussion about it with him."
"Did she?" I asked.
"I asked her about a week later," Mrs. W. explained. "She said that she'd talked to her son and discovered that they understood each other perfectly and had come to an understanding on the matter."
"But did she actually have sex with him?" I pressed.
"She wouldn't say," said Mrs. W. "I asked her point blank whether or not she was fucking with her son. Every time I asked she'd start to giggle, get all hot and embarrassed and tell me that she has a right to keep her womanly secrets."
"It sounds to me like she actually seduced the boy," I suggested.
"Doctor," said Mrs. W., "it doesn't just sound that way to me. It is that way. She left her shades open one night and the woman next door saw everything. Her little Tommy is balling her bush off."
"Thank you, Mrs. W.," I said. "No further questions."
Mrs. W.'s second interview session strongly attests to the powerful attractions many women feel toward incestuous sex.
To begin with, Mrs. W. herself was reminded of her own sexuality when she witnessed the couple at the shopping center. Watching them, and beginning to think about sex, she immediately began to think of her son. As soon as she thought of him, incestuous sexual intercourse began to loom in her mind. In thinking about it she decided that she had to have it even at the risk of being surprised by the arrival of her guests.
Mrs. W. was so enthralled with having a quick sexual escapade with her son that she irrationally did not listen to him when he tried to warn her that the three women she was to play cards with had already arrived. Incestuous intercourse by that time had become a temporary fixation in Mrs. W.'s mind. She'd hear of nothing else until her boy had completed the act for her.
Then, caught in full view of her friends, Mrs. W. fully ignored the three women and completed her act. Perhaps it was logical since she had already been caught anyway. But many women engaged in more common varieties of sex, would have lost their sexual drive as soon as they realized that their privacy had been invaded. Not Mrs. W. The attraction of incest was too strong for her to want to quit.
As for the other three women, it's equally clear that at least two of the three were equally interested in incestuous sex. One woman knew enough about it to know that her brother-in-law and niece were engaging in it. And another woman apparently may have initiated an incestuous affair with her own son. If she did, it would hardly be surprising after the ringing endorsement which Mrs. W. gave to the whole incest syndrome.
It can be seen then how the patterns of incest can spread in a community. Mrs. W. practiced incestuous sex with her son. Another woman witnessed the act, went home, and apparently did seduce her own son, too. Women learn from other women. Then they practice what they've learned. First hand information is one reason that incest is becoming so popular.
It is, however, possible for incest to occur spontaneously in the home, just as it has in the following case history and in some of the case histories already dealt with in this volume. In the following case history, however, a most interesting situation has occurred. Incest was a matter of practicality for Mrs. Ertha B. Through incest she and her son both solved serious problems which were bothering them.
CASE HISTORY FIVE
"Why did I turn to my son for sex?" Mrs. Ertha B. asked herself when she presented herself in my offices during the early summer of 1972. "It was the only thing to do, doctor. I felt that it solved both his problems and my own problems."
"Sexual problems?" I asked Mrs. B.
"Of course, doctor," Mrs. B. explained. "Any women left alone all day by their husbands are going to develop sexual problems. It just has to happen."
"Why does it have to happen?" I asked, hoping to press Mrs. B., thirty-eight and still very youthful, into revealing a few of the underlying reasons why so many housewives, left alone all day, turn eventually to incest.
"I'll tell you why," she said as she removed a stick of chewing gum from her purse and began to roll it up before placing it in her mouth. "What do you suppose most people think about more than anything else?"
"I would imagine that sex is what you mean," I answered.
"That's right, doctor," she said. "That's what I think about and that's what most women think about. Well, look at our situation. Our husbands fuck us when we go to bed at night and some of the luckier wives get fucked in the morning before their husbands leave. That leaves us with the housework to occupy our minds during the day."
"And?"
"And the housework doesn't exactly hold our mental attention, doctor. We can do all that crappy housework and still have our minds on something else."
"Such as sex?" I suggested.
"Such as sex," she affirmed. "We're stuck at home all day and we start to think about sex. By two o'clock in the afternoon, most of the women I know are horny enough to wham themselves with a broomstick."
"I see," I said.
"I know a vacuum cleaner salesman, doctor, who used to start his rounds for the day at one o'clock. Working a good neighborhood he used to be able to sell two vacuum cleaners and fuck two women by three o'clock. Then he'd go home to his wife and fuck her. That's what I call a good job. But it's not surprising. By that hour of the afternoon, most women are just begging for it from the first male that comes around on two or four legs."
"Is that why you committed incest with your thirteen-year-old son?" I asked.
"It is," she said. "Well, incest was the best of the alternatives open to me. I didn't like the other ways I was developing of satisfying myself."
"Would you describe what you mean?" I asked.
Mrs. B. then gave me this testimony....
...I told you, doctor, about this incredible horniness that can overtake a woman by that certain hour in the afternoon. Well, that horniness was just completely overwhelming me. I had to get myself to orgasm in the afternoon. And it was by eliminating the methods that I didn't like that finally led me to incest.
I only have one child, doctor. He's thirteen years old and he's a very good boy. His name is Randy. He's the youngster that I fuck a few times a week. But here's how Randy and I finally got something going between us.
Originally I tried to satisfy that urge of mine by buying one of those battery powered vibrators that all women use these days. I'd say ninety per cent of the women in my neighborhood have those things. I'd say that maybe one husband out of ten knows that his wife has one. Men never know when their wives are masturbating any more than they know when their wives are getting laid on the side. Men just don't notice things like that. They make it very easy for a woman to get her sex on the side.
Along about one o'clock or so, before Randy would get home from school, I'd open up a sporting magazine and get a picture of a big well hung man in a bathing suit. Then I'd lie back on my bed, grease my vibrator, hunch up my legs and start to slowly insert that long buzzing plastic phallus into my vagina.
I'd move it briskly back and forth, doctor, working my way on up to an orgasm and imagining all along that it was that man whose picture I was looking at who was actually working me over with his penis. Normally I could get off several good pussy blasts that way.
That only worked for a while. I was just like any other housewife, dildoing herself in the afternoon and wishing her husband would come home early to really put some real hard cock into her. What I needed was something live. That's when I turned to something else which didn't really work out properly.
One day I was in the kitchen taking a big bowl of whipped cream out of the refrigerator. All of a sudden the pet cat that we keep was rubbing up against my legs, wanting a little taste of that whipped cream.
I was so horny that day that the feel of the cat's fur against my skin was having a very intense sexual effect on my vagina. The cat was making my vagina get that tickle which suggests fucking. I knew it was silly to be getting horny over a cat. But silly or not, it was happening.
"Now what do you want?" I said to the cat.
He was a big muscular tomcat and he looked up at me with those slanted green eyes. His long tail swished back and forth, almost seductively. Now even the sight of that big brown and white tomcat was beginning to arouse me. I giggled to myself. A housewife left alone all afternoon is certainly entitled to have her sexual fantasies.
I looked at that bowl of whipped cream and then I looked back down at the cat. He gave out with a long meow and then swished his big long pink tongue across his whiskers. He began to give me ideas, doctor, very strange ideas.
"Who'll ever know," I giggled to myself, "if I give the cat a little dab of whipped cream?"
I flicked my finger into that bowl and came out with a big gob of whipped cream. I held it down to the cat, my braless breasts swinging merrily beneath me as I leaned over to him. He stood up on his hind legs to accept the whipped cream. He ran his tongue across my fingertip. That's when all the trouble began.
His tongue was fantastic, doctor. He swished that rough little tongue across my finger and it felt like a cross between velvet and sandpaper. I'm a girl who likes tongues, doctor, and that cat had one of the most interesting tongues I'd ever felt. So right there in the kitchen I decided to experiment with the cat a little bit. I figured he was a clean cat and it wouldn't hurt anyone.
I took another dab of whipped cream and I took off my blouse. I opened the blouse up completely and threw it into the kitchen sink. Then I put a big dab of whipped cream on each nipple and held my tits out to the cat as I squattec down to him.
Again he rose up on his hind legs, pushed his little paws to each breast, and lapped the ful amount of cream right off each boob. I loved it. I absolutely loved it. That rasping little tongue was so good that I knew I'd have to see what i felt like somewhere else. So I picked the cat up with one arm and listened to him purring as carried him upstairs with me. I brought the whipped cream with me, too. I'd be needing it.
I guess you know what I did, doctor. I carried the cat up to the bedroom and I set him right down on the bed. Then I lowered my skirt and bared my vagina to him.
He was interested enough in my vagina to start sniffing at it immediately. But then when I plopped a dab of whipped cream right in the upper part of my crack, right over the clit, that's when he really became interested.
He pushed his face into my muff and started to lap at me with that fantastic rough tongue of his. His tongue licked all over the clit and brought the clit up to a full hard point. He played with that little pink lump for several minutes, then when I refreshed the supply of cream down there we repeated the whole procedure.
Eventually I became so turned on, doctor, that I had to have something go into my vagina, I toyed with the cat's furry little crotch and I actually made him erect his penis out of there.
His organ was small but hard. I pulled the furry purring beast up onto my crotch and I actually felt that three inch penis of his slip between the folds of my vagina.
It was like being fingered by a small child's finger, doctor. While it was exciting, it wasn't satisfying. I had one or two orgasms when the cat got into the right mood and started to hump back and forth on me. But I couldn't have the great big pulsating and crashing orgasms that I wanted. Those just didn't come. I knew I had to do something. And it was just then when I heard my son Randy come home early from school.
I lay there on the bed stark naked. The cat had cleaned all the whipped cream off of my pussy. But when the cat heard Randy come home, the little feline sprung from my bed and rushed to the door. He darted downstairs to greet my'son.
"I'm home, Mom?" Randy called up to me. I didn't answer him. I knew my blouse was sitting down in the kitchen sink and I knew Randy was going to think it quite odd. But I still didn't answer. I just lay there nude, wishing I could somehow finish off my orgasms for the day. I knew the only available penises were that of the cat and that of Randy.
Randy? Don't kid yourself, I told myself. Not my own son. Was I that horny? Well, yes, I was.
"I'm home, Mom," he called out again. But again I didn't answer. Somehow I liked the idea of lying there naked while Randy prowled downstairs below me. Maybe I was hoping he'd come upstairs quickly, surprise me as I lay there nude and hop on top of me. That's what I wanted, of course. But I wasn't ready to admit it to myself yet.
Then I heard Randy coming upstairs. He came right to the top of the stairs. I hoped he'd come in and catch me nude which would have been just the excuse I wanted to "get him to undress, too. But he went to his room. I heard him rustling through the bottom drawer of his dresser. That made me curious what he was doing. So I got up from my bed and moved slowly to the doorway.
As I moved slowly through the hallway, I came to Randy's open door. I heard him say something in his room. He was evidently talking to himself
"I'm sure glad Mom's not home," he said. "I've got to jerk myself."
I peeked into his room. Randy had pulled his pants down to around his knees. His shirt was open and I could see that he had pulled a stack of magazines out of the bottom drawer of his dresser. His big penis was swollen up and he was beginning to stroke it with his palm as he looker, through all those girlie magazines.
I watched him for only a few seconds. I could see how big his penis was. Even for a boy of thirteen he had a good sized rod down there. And one thing other than that was clear: he got as horny as I did in the afternoons. I figured that it was a kind act of fate that let me discover that both of us had sex habits in the afternoon. The only logical thing to do was to get together to stamp out those nasty habits.
I let him stroke himself a few more times before I said anything to him. When he had his phallus hard and erect I stepped nude into the doorway and spoke to him.
"Wouldn't you much rather have a real pussy to come into?" I asked my son.
"Mom!" he squealed as he looked up, sending his magazine flying away from him as I surprised him. "Mom, I thought-"
"I know what you thought," I said to him. "And you were wrong." I began to walk toward him. His eyes focused on the well trimmed triangle of hair between my legs and the big but firm breasts which wobbled slightly as I walked toward him.
"Please, Mom," he said to me as I neared him. "I won't beat off again. I was just terribly horny. All day in school I was thinking about fucking and-"
"Don't you think your mother gets horny, too?" I asked him. He stared up at me. I stood at least three feet away from him, staring down at that hard prick that his pulled down pants revealed. In turn, he looked back up at me and stared again at my bare nipples.
"You get horny, too, Mom?" he asked.
"I certainly do," I said to my thirteen-year-old son. "And I'm going to promise you one thing."
"What's that, Mom?" he asked meekly.
"I'm going to promise you, Randy," I said to him, "that in the future you're not going to want to beat off again."
"How come, Mom?" he asked.
"Because you won't need to," I told him. "You're going to have your own afternoon supply of pussy right here at home."
"Mom!" he squealed.
"And do you know what, Randy?" I asked. "You're looking at that supply right now."
My son didn't know what to do. But I assured the boy that what we were going to do was going to satisfy both of our needs and cure us both of ugly sexual habits.
"It's a sin to waste your sperm when there are so many women around who'd like to receive it," I told him. "And it's equally foolish of me to waste my pussy on a vibrator when there's a handsome young boy around who'd like to do some fucking instead of playing with himself."
"Aw, Mom," he protested, "I-"
"Never mind," I said to him. "You just get all of your clothes off and then we'll satisfy all of our problems together."
He pulled his pants completely off and removed his shirt and socks. His penis had become limp when I came into the room. But as soon as I wrapped my arm around my son and he felt my breast push to him I saw his penis start to rise again.
I moved my hand to his crotch and tucked my palm gently under his balls. I caressed his nuts and used the tip of my thumb to titillate his penis, moving that thumbtip up and down on his organ.
He started to breath hard. I knew I had him. "Do you know how you're supposed to feel up a girl before you fuck her?" I asked my enlightened thirteen-year-old.
"I've read about it," he said, "but I've never done it."
"You just do what you read about," I told him. "I'll correct you if you're wrong."
"Gosh, Mom," he said with a weak smile. "Your body is so warm and friendly."
"It'll be even friendlier when you get a chance to get back into it," I told him. "Please feel my pussy."
He moved his nervous young hand to my vagina and started to insert his fingers into it, moving his fingers back and forth along the lips of my vagina and then immersing them in the wetness within my crack. I got more and more excited as he tooled with me down there. His "fingers slipped deep into my vaginal canal and he started to rotate them back and forth. Where that tomcat had left off, my son was starting up. He kissed each of my big swollen nipples and even moved my hand down to his ass in the furious height of my passion. Playfully I moved the tip of my finger around his rectum, not quite entering it, but keeping up the playful distraction back there. My other hand toyed from moment to moment with his big thick rod. When it as so swollen that I thought it would explode, I insisted that my son fuck me. What we did was no different than what any other mother and son would have done at that moment. I lay out flat on the bed and my son crawled on top of me. As I opened my arms and legs to my son I felt him trying to push the big thick staff of his penis into me. I moved over slightly to get him in at a good angle. Then, as he drove his penis headlong into my wet slot, I wrapped my legs around my son and I started to pump my vagina back and forth on his rod.
"Oh, Mom," he moaned. "It's not like jerking off at all. It's so much better."
"Of course it is," I agreed. "Otherwise everyone would tool themselves. Mothers and sons would never get together."
My son's penis rose and descended on my wet pulsating vagina jamming its hard shaft way back into me. I tried to roll the inside walls of my pussy as best as I could against my son's prick. I felt his stick stiffen up inside me and I knew, as I started to orgasm intensely, that he was ready to shoot his load....
...."It sounds as if you enjoyed it," I added wryly as Mrs. B. concluded her story.
"He had an incredible orgasm, doctor," Mrs. B. said. "I don't know what it is, but young boys seem to come very hard. Maybe it's just because they're in the bloom of youth and the sap is just running for the first time."
"You mention boys," I said. "Plural. Why?"
"I've had other experiences besides my son," Mrs. B. said. "I'm not a complete shut-in."
"What other boys?" I asked.
Mrs. B. paused for a moment, discarded her chewing gum into an ash tray, and answered me.
"It turned out that Mrs. Morris down the street who had a boy of sixteen was doing the same thing I was. She was fucking her son, too."
"How did you find that out?" I asked.
"People talk," said Mrs. B. "My son, for example, has a big mouth. He shot off his mouth to Jackie Morris, Mrs. Morris's sixteen-year-old son. He told Jackie he was screwing his mother."
"Didn't you feel that he'd betrayed a confidence?" I asked.
"I don't mind," Mrs. B. said. "I'm glad Randy shot off his mouth because that's how I found out about Jackie."
"How?"
"When my Randy told Jackie that he was fucking me, Jackie just laughed. He said that my son didn't have anything on him because he was fucking his mother, too. So then I confronted Mrs. Morris about it and she admitted it. That's what gave us the idea about son swapping."
"We both knew that sex could get boring and we both knew that we liked young boys as lovers. So the whole idea suggested itself to us almost immediately. Three days later we did it."
"How did the boys react?" I asked.
"You know how boys are," said Mrs. B. "They're basically promiscuous. So they liked the idea of fucking another woman apiece."
"In our next interview, Mrs. B.," I said, "would you describe exactly how the swap worked out?"
"I'd be happy to," she said. I thanked her and offered no further questions at that session.
* * *
In reviewing Mrs. B.'s case just before her second appointment in my offices, I was struck with how her case is very symptomatic of the cases of many women who commit incestuous acts.
Often, as Mrs. B. justifiably explained, these are women who are bored with their present home lives. They are women who might be happily married to their husbands but who seek some kind of fulfillment in the afternoon while their husbands are away.
Many modern women don't wish to cheat on their husbands by taking in milkmen or, say, vacuum cleaner salesmen behind their husbands' backs. Nor do these same women derive much pleasure from masturbation or sex with animals. In short then, they must turn to another alternative. Lesbian sex remains a possibility but heter-sexual housewives would have little appetite for that. No, they turn in increasing numbers to incest. And it's the logical conclusion.
Incest permits these women to not stray outside the family and it permits them to have sex with males whom they know and love. Sons have become legendary good lovers among the American women of the 1970's. Accounts like those of Mrs. B. only confirm just how much mother-son incest is actually going on.
"It was Mrs. Morris's idea to swap," said Mrs. B. when she returned to my office for her second interview. "Of course, I think we were both thinking about it as soon as I found out that she was screwing with her son, too."
"Did you set a date to have the first exchange?" I asked Mrs. B.
"We set a date right away," she replied. "It was for a Friday night. Randy and I went over to the Morris's house. Mrs. Morris was divorced and Jackie was her only child. It was very convenient."
"Was it explained to the boys what was going to happen?" I asked. "They knew ahead of time that each was to be paired off with the other boy's mother?"
"They knew," said Mrs. B. "I spelled it out quite clearly for Randy, but I didn't really need to. As soon as I told him that we were going over to see Jackie and Mrs. Morris on Friday night Randy knew that something big was brewing. The boy's no fool. I think Mrs. Morris had already made a pass at him, anyway."
"Would you describe what happened at the swapping session?" I asked. Mrs. B. told me the following....
...This was the first time I'd ever been to a swapping exchange of any sort, doctor. I was very excited about the project because I knew that Mrs. Morris and my son were going to be humping right in the same room as Jackie Morris and I. That way I got to see my nude son going at it while I enjoyed a fresh young male of my own. I guess the only mistake I made that evening was the choice of attire.
I wanted my son and I to look nice for our first swapping affair. I knew my husband would never participate in something of this nature so I was very happy that Randy and I were going to get a chance to swing.
I wore a nice ornate dress, stockings and heels and I had my thirteen-year-old son dress in a blazer, tie and a pair of grey slacks. It turned out we were really overdoing it. I thought there'd be a nice meal, some talk, soft lights, music and then lovemaking. But I must say that Mrs. Morris and her boy were a bit more crude about the whole deal. They were almost animalistic about it.
What happened was this, doctor. Randy and I went over to the Morris house at about seven thirty. We were dressed nicely and well groomed. But when the door opened I saw that we really weren't going to have much use for our nice clothes that evening.
Mrs. Morris was standing there with absolutely nothing on except a very short and very sheer nightie. She was wearing a pair of black laced panties underneath, a pair which matched that nightie of hers.
"Like this?" she asked my son as Randy and I came through the front door. "I wore this the first night I seduced my Jackie." She gave Randy a little kiss on the forehead. "I thought I'd give you the same treat," she told him.
Randy was staring at Mrs. Morris's big tits and the way they protruded underneath that nightie of hers. The material of the nightie and of her panties was so sheer that my son and I could see her big triangular patch beneath her panties. Both Randy and I stared at it until her son, Jackie, appeared.
I had no idea what a muscular young boy that sixteen-year-old Jackie Morris was. Jackie came downstairs wearing a cowboy hat, a buckskin vest and nothing else! I saw his long tool hanging there and I forgot completely about the way his mother had dressed for my son.
"Jackie," I said to Mrs. Morris's boy, "you are hung!"
"I'm very proud of my boy," said Mrs. Morris. "He's hung nicely. Not like his father at all."
Mrs. Morris stared at her boy and focused her eyes on his nuts with that proud look that only a mother is capable of. She then looked back to my thirteen-year-old Randy, heaved a happy sigh and spoke.
"Well," she said. "Everyone's here. Let's get started."
I stood there in the living room just a little bit confused. Mrs. Morris acted like she'd never been balled before. I watched her as she took my son in her arm and led him to one of two big mattresses that had been laid out in the living room for the obvious purpose. She undid his tie and had him remove his jacket immediately. He looked shyly at her and then looked to me with beseeching eyes. He seemed just a bit upset with her aggressiveness.
"It's okay," I said to Randy. "You just perform for Mrs. Morris the same way you perform for your mother. Then everything will be all right."
"I can't wait to see your boy's nuts," said Mrs. Morris to me. "He's about the youngest boy I've ever had. His balls must be so young and delicious."
As he fumbled with his own shirt, Mrs. Morris went for his fly. She yanked it down and undid his belt quickly. Then she pulled down his pants and saw his penis as it began to erect.
"Handsome," she said as she looked at his pubic area. "You've raised a handsome boy," she said to me. She leaned forward and gave my son a kiss on the tip of the penis. It made his cock rise all the faster.
"And your handsome boy is raising a handsome penis," she added as his cock got hard in her mouth. "I think this is going to be a very fun evening for all of us."
As her mouth went back and forth on his penis several times, Randy stopped looking at me. Instead he turned his attention down to Mrs. Morris. He pressed his hands against her breasts and felt the big nipples beneath that soft sheer fabric of her nightie. She giggled and my son and she undressed one another. At that time I turned my attention to her own son.
Handsome muscular Jackie Morris was standing at the foot of those stairs with his cowboy hat tipped jauntily back and his tan buckskin vest hanging down his ribs. But he had changed somewhat since I'd seen him coming down the stairs. His penis was rising quickly. I saw that big member of his erect and I lost complete concentration on what Mrs. Morris was doing with my son. I was more concerned with what I was going to do with her son.
Jackie came over to me and took me in his strong young arms, kissing me on the lips and rubbing his penis right up against my dress.
"Jackie," I protested gently, "You're going to get come all over my nice dress."
"Not if you take the dress off," Mrs. Morris's son replied. "Then I'll get come all over your nice pussy. That'll feel a whole lot better."
My pussy tingled at the mere thought of that strong young man coming into my vagina. I completely lost track of what my son and Mrs. Morris were doing. As Jackie Morris held me in his arms I tossed his cowboy hat over to a chair. I wrapped my arms around his strong buckskin-clad shoulders and I felt his prick pushing up against me.
Then he moved his hands to my back and started to unzip my dress. Down came the zipper, all the way from the back of my neck down to my ass.
"I have a little surprise for you, Jackie," I whispered to him. "I don't have any panties on under my dress. No bra, either."
He moved his hand inside my dress to see if I was telling him the truth or just trying to excite him. Well, I was trying to excite him, but I was telling the truth, too.
"Sexy," he whispered in my ear. "Little Randy's mother sure is one sexy lady."
The boy's penis was firmly pushed against me. He stepped back as I took my dress off and let it fall to the floor. I was completely nude as I stood in front of him. Jackie and I were pro-ceding at a much faster rate than Randy and Jackie's mother.
Jackie, still wearing that buckskin vest, pulled my naked body right down onto the mattress beside my son and his mother. Before I could control Jackie he was pushing his head into my muff. Jackie's fresh young face pushed its way right into my slot as I held my legs apart for him. He had a long tongue, doctor. It almost was as long as some penises as he licked my clitoris and then pulsated his tongue back and forth in my vaginal slot.
My pussy started to throb just as soon as that young vigorous male started to work it over with his mouth. Out of the corner of my eye I could see that my own son was completely naked now and was feeling Mrs. Morris's box through her black laced nightie. She was licking his penis as he felt her. That gave me the perfect suggestion to lick Jackie's big hard member, too.
Jackie and I did a sixty-nine which lasted for several wonderful minutes, doctor. He made me orgasm in his face. He lapped all the juice out of me and then made me do it again. Then he turned me around and screwed me, driving his penis in and out of me with a vigorous pumping motion which drove me to deep pulsating orgasms. Every time I looked away from him and thought I was orgasmed out, I saw my own son nude across the way. That made me clutch Jackie again all the harder, wrapping that buckskin vested top of him in my arms as his loins continued to pound me with his huge stick.
Jackie finally ejaculated into me with hard vigorous gushes of come that sent my pussy sceaming off into a final intense series of orgasmic bursts. When it was over, he let his limp prick remain in me for several minutes before he licked me out. But in those minutes following my own ejaculation, I watched my own son make it with Mrs. Morris.
Mrs. Morris had lined up a whole new technique for my Randy. As soon as Randy had taken her nightie off she revealed to him the special feature of her panties.
"They have a slit at the crotch, Randy," she explained to my son. "Do you know why?"
"So you can piss through the fly?" my son asked her naively.
"No, Randy," she said, "so that I can get screwed without having to remove my panties."
I saw my son's penis twitch as she told him that. But then she gave him a demonstration of what she meant.
She lay out flat on her mattress just a few feet from me. She kept those lace panties on and she spread her long white legs for my son.
"I've seen this so many times that it bores me," said Jackie. And he looked away. It didn't bore me, though. I watched.
When Mrs. Morris spread her legs apart the panties opened up at the crotch, allowing Randy to have easy access to her hairy triangle. Randy went down there and licked her right through the slot in that material. Then he was pulled up on top of her. I watched his penis disappear through the slot of those panies. First the head of the penis went in. Then half of the shaft. Then the whole thing. Mrs. Morris had her whole bottom enclosed by that black silk and lace, but my son was pumping that long cock of his into her vigorously, leading her to high levels of orgasmic bliss. I watched them until they enjoyed a good mutual climax. All the time I was thinking how anxious I was to have my son back and how anxious I also was to have a pair of those slitted panties for my own use....
...Mrs. B. brought her story to an end at that point. I concluded her meeting with me with a few questions. That included the following exchange.
"Did you have sex more than once that night?" I asked.
"I did," she said. "I had sex with Jackie again, but still wasn't completely content. At the end of the evening we all got into a little stack on those mattresses and rolled around with our eyes closed while we felt and kissed whatever we happened to touch. The object was to find a male and fuck him without knowing which one it was."
"What happened?" I asked.
"Just as I expected," Mrs. B. said. "I ended up with my own son."
"Were you disappointed?" I asked. "Would you have preferred to have Jackie a third time?"
"Doctor," said Mrs. B., "a woman can't get a better lover than her own son. Husbands are good and other young men are good. But day in and day out, nobody can bang a woman the way her own son can."
"Thank you, Mrs. B.," I said. "That will be all."
It was all. In her final words to me, Mrs. B. had summed up the thoughts of ninety-eight percent of the women I interviewed.
SUMMATION
Having spoken to so many men and women who had thrilled to the new sexual horizons which have been thrown open to them through the practice of incest, what can be said of these people?
Many people still would insist that these are sick people in need of psychiatric help or sexual guidance. It would be alleged that these mothers had no right in seducing their sons and their sons had no right in reciprocating their mothers' requestions. To many people in America incest remains a dirty word even in the 1970's.
However, those who feel this way miss a certain point. Without passing moral judgment on the pros or cons of the incest movement, it would take someone completely out of touch with modern reality to deny that the incest movement is spreading. As previously noted, the sexual rules and sexual ethics in our great nation have become increasingly liberal in the past years. While we are not faced quite yet with what's known as an "anything goes" situation, we are faced with a situation where more and more varied sexual combinations and possibilities have met increasing approval among the American public.
Thus, as our society becomes more permissive" (which even the harshest and most unfair critics would agree that it is) the practice of incest among American women will inevitably increase ... which is exactly what it's doing.
My point then is clear. Those who would criticize those who practice incest are failing to deal with the central issue involved. The central issue is not whether incest is essentially right or wrong (it may be neither) but that incest is with us in increasingly higher rates. It is the fact that incest is spreading that must be dealt with or accepted.
Since incestuous sex, which has always had an ample following, is with us and is increasing, the American public should not remain in ignorance about it. The American public will have to live with the sexual behavior of its own citizens. And to this end, these two volumes are put forth. It is essential to know why American women turn to their sons and why American daughters turn to their brothers or fathers. The sexual behavior of so many people cannot easily be dismissed as sickness or perversion.
Those candid and frank women whose interviews formed the core of this book were not sick people. To a large degree these five women and the scores of others who were interviewed represented the mainstream of American thought. These are women of essentially middle class and middle income background, they are women whom I am proud to know and who most other women would certainly not be ashamed of to call their friends. The fact that it is women like these who are in the vanguard of the incest movement in American merely illustrates how the desire for intercourse is perhaps latent in most women. Despite learning all the accepted restrictions against incest which limit so many women, these women went ahead and got what they wanted. If the desire was that strong in them, it will be equally strong in the millions of other American women like them. That's why the public in general should enlighten itself about the root causes and desires which result in incest. So many American women cannot be totally misguided.
I might note in closing that the first volume of these case histories concerns the incestuous desires of the many men who I interviewed. As men can be so much more blunt and candid than women, I feel that this first volume in many ways picks up where this one leaves off. In any event, one could not be thoroughly apprised of the present incest situation without knowing why so many men are finding so many easy sexual partners right within their families.
