enovel The Incest Generation Andre Roberts [Future Story Codes]

---

.....9856 home .....9858

The Incest Generation ....(66k)    by Andre Roberts

INTRODUCTION

Of all the perplexing sexual aberrations engaged in by men and women, none rank ahead of incest.

Although people are constantly wondering about how and why individuals become involved with those to whom they are related, most of this curiosity goes unresolved.

For one thing, incest is an unmentionable. It is a topic that most people will not discuss for fear of turning off the other party., The constantly prevalent prudery in large segments of mankind brings about an attitude of standoffishness in which people who would like to learn something about incest never explore it at all.

Due to the stigma attached to incestuous sexual relations, those who have at one time or another become involved with a blood relative often form terrible guilt feelings that are difficult to overcome.

A noted psychiatrist who has dealt with many patients from the ranks of the incestuous informed me recently:

"The hardest point for me to make, and the most fundamental one in terms of getting them to come to grips with themselves, is to make them realize that they are not freaks of society. Often they have the tendency to think of themselves as unworthy of life itself, which is tragic. Sometimes they have become involved in incest only due to conditions, the lack of other sex opportunities, lack of willpower, or any one of a number of reasons that normally afflict mankind regularly. But the aftermath, the reaction, brings the devastating shock, and with it my job becomes all that much more difficult."

This feeling of alienation and guilt carries many people who have experienced incest to the breaking point, from which many of whom never recover.

Another basic category, however, also exists, and its ranks appear to be steadily increasing.

In a recent book of mine, "The Mother-Son Sin," an attractive mother I interviewed stated the following:

"The whole world's balling anybody any way it wants to, so what the hell's wrong with my balling my son?"

I then stated:

"The mother, though more outwardly candid than most, is part of an ever expanding movement of mothers who have sex with their sons. The current American social trend toward sexual exposure at young ages has made junior a far more knowledgeable young man at an earlier age than most of his forbearors were likely to have been. Many mothers, consenquently, have taken advantage of this keen sexual awareness on the part of their sons to their own sexual advantages."

The abovementioned quote related solely to the phenomenon of mother-son sex, but the statement was considerably more far reaching, extending beyond those limited confines.

Several weeks ago a voluptuous young girl of seventeen made the following disclosure:

"You know, I thought my uncle was the biggest sinner on the face of the earth when he proposed sex to me. I was just struck numb when he came right out and told me how much I turned him on.

At first I told him bluntly to get lost. He said that one of these days soon I'd rid myself of my hang-ups and I'd discover that sex with him was just like doing it with anybody else. I could get some of the same kicks. Only he promised me that he'd give me a better time than my boyfriends at school because he was more experienced as a cocksman. Well, a few weeks later, after getting stoned out on grass, I took him up on that and did we ever have a blast! Oh, was it ever great."

What precipitates mature adults, like the aforementioned uncle, to solicit sex with a young relative?

One basic element that I discovered in a number of cases that I interviewed was loneliness.

I approached the theme in my book, "Older Women Who Prefer Young Boys," in which I revealed:

"Americans live in a society bubbling over with tensions and turmoil. City life abounds with numerous tensions which cannot help but adversely affect even a basically secure individual-traffic snarls, dogged competition on jobs, competition for sex attention, crime, noises of honking horns and blaring sirens.

"Despite the fact that cities are overflowing with life, it is a fact acknowledged by psychiatrists and sociologists that people have never been more lonely. We are confronted with the reality of a society involving hordes of people, living and working side by side, but not really knowing one another and cramped within their own impermeable sheels.

"Put a sensitive woman into such an explosive framework and these aforementioned frustrations compound. A sensitive woman hurled into such an angry milieu often clutches in strange ways at straws designed to prop her up emotionally and physically."

In a society overflowing with the types of tension earlier described, any type of escapism becomes more readily understandable.

A man in his middle forties who had had intercourse on many occasions with his teenage daughter once confided:

"I'm so dissatisfied with the way things are in my life that I've had this yearning, maybe a craving is more like it, to return to the way things were when I was a young buck and carefree, having a blast palying the field with all the good looking young chicks that would give me a tumble. Well, having sex with my daughter gave me an escape hatch. I was like a completely different person when I was having sex with her. Once more I was the young buck, romancing a good looking young gal, even if she did happen to be my own daughter."

One of the most outspoken current critics of what he refers to as the "incest taboo" is Dr. Lars Ullerstam.

In his masterful treatise, "The Erotic Minorities," Dr. Ullerstam made the following observations:

"The incest taboo is one of the most universal human restrictions on sexual activity, and practically all primitive peoples have some sort of taboo concerning sexual intercourse among relatives. In the rest of the animal world incest is practiced without inhibition, even without any indication of instinctive repulsion. Before the advent of Islam, incest was permitted in many Arabic countries, and the Pharaohs of Egypt were compelled to marry their sisters in order to keep the strain pure. Among certain Polynesian tribes, where incest is subject to severe taboos, coition with otherwise forbidden relatives forms part of a ceremony in religious festivals. The concept of incest is generally wider among primitive tribes and includes all sexual activity within a larger group, regardless of blood relations.

"Incest is a much appreciated hobby in the company of gods and goddesses, and at all times mankind seems to have been fascinated by this motif, even though its attitude toward it has been ambivalent. On one hand, most of us find the thought of sexual intercourse with our closest blood relations physically repulsive; on the other, the thought of incest on the part of others exerts a strong voyeuristic fascination. The incest motif finds extensive treatment in fiction; the sensational magazines however dare not make Use of it, in spite of its considerable pornographic value.

"A rich flora of pseudo-theories has grown up around the reasons for the incest taboo. The psychoanalysts have done their share, of course; they offer us their Oedipus complex, an open sesame used to explain all kinds of expressions of human life, pathological or not. One psychoanalytical thinker, Alexander, even claims that if all our laws and regulations were abolished, all crimes would increase except two: incest and parricide."

It is refreshing to discover the appearance of a bright and highly illuminating mind such as that of Dr. Ullerstam's making an imprint on a world that has, all too often, fallen into the generic category of "incest taboo" consciousness, in which fantasy has often been substituted for fact.

A prominent psychiatrist recently bemoaned:

"You know, I could easily have treated a young girl who came to me relating experiences of incest with her older brother if I hadn't encountered an appalling amount of interference along the way. It came from her family-her parents, uncles, aunts. They all thought that they had the answers to her problem, when in reality they would have been considerably better off if they had left the matter in my hands. But they were so concerned about imputing sickness to the girl when in actuality none existed that they finally succeeded. This poor girl crumbled under the pressures generated by her own family and as a result I couldn't begin to provide her with the meaningful kind of help I could otherwise have rendered."

The psychiatrist's complaint was a very real one, namely that he was familiar with the subject matter, which he had studied in a clinical, non-emotional light. Consequently he was better equipped to deal with it than the emotional parents and sundry other relatives.

In the five cases that follow I studiously endeavored to provide the same kind of unemotional clinical insight that the pshychiatrist alluded to above attempted to bring to bear in the case of the young girl.

Rather than being incurable victims of a social sickness, I discovered most of the persons I interviewed to instead be persons who deviated from the norm either under pressure or as a result of unsatisfied sexual desires.

CASE ONE

Norman T. is an insurance claims adjuster in his early forties.

His story epitomizes the case of one person being caught up in tragedy and locating another individual in the like predicament.

As Norman talked with me in my office, I did not get the impression of instability at all. As a husband and father of three children, he gave me every impression of being a man who was well adjusted.

He began to reveal his fascinating story to me, which is recounted herein:

I just loved Mabel, my wife, when we got married.

The thing that I liked about her was that she was a very physical person, just like myself. Perhaps I work at a job where there isn't much in the way of physical wear and tear, but come weekend time, I like nothing better than to go fishing, horseback riding, hunting, and any one of a number of other things. I also like very much to swim.

Mabel also liked these physical activities, and we had so much in common during those days.

In addition, I like lots of good sex, and we saw eye to eye on that point as well. There was no one that could exceed Mabel's pace in bed, as far as I was concerned. Any time that I wanted it, I knew that it was there.

But lately things have been changing. Even though Mabel remains a very good looking woman, with a terrific figure, she has become frigid in recent years.

She just doesn't seem to have the same sexual demands anymore that I do, and that makes things rather difficult, because I'm just about as hot now as I was when I married her some twenty years ago.

Just the other day I came back from talking to a young married woman whose car had been in an accident.

I couldn't help but get horny just looking at this gal. Oh, I wasn't about to try anything. Hell, I couldn't have, even if I had wanted to, since her husband was sitting right next to her on the sofa during the time that I was interviewing her. But you know how it is, it's only natural for a man to react when he sees a very good looking woman, and that's precisely what I did.

This girl was very lovely. As a matter-of-fact, she remainded me so much my wife during the early stages of our marriage. She had that some sparkling glow about her, and her figure was absolutely stunning.

Just sitting there talking to her made me think that much more about Mabel, and when I got up and left the house, I was thinking all the more about her.

Maybe this girl that I was talking to was unattainable when it came to sex, but I could always go home and have sex with my lovely wife, who looked so good for her age that she still attracted stares and whistles from men on a large scale. Let me tell you something, she looks so youthful that even very young men look at her.

Well, I arrived home just in time for dinner. I knew that, even though I was good and hot, we couldn't do anything right then. The kids were all at the dinner table and we engaged in the usual family chatter.

After dinner was over, my beautiful teenage daughter, Gayleen, announced that she had a date with her boyfriend, so she went out.

As for my two sons, they too had to go out. It made me happy. One of them was going to do some homework over at a friend's house, while the other one said that he was going to meet a guy in the school library to prepare for a test.

It made me feel very good to know that it would just be me and Mabel, all by ourselves.

I even helped Mabel do the dishes that evening.

"Women's lib ought to be happy about this," I joked.

"I don't know about them, but I sure know about me, dear," Mabel smiled. "It's good to know that I've got a helpful husband around here."

"Glad to be of assistance."

"Thank you, dear."

We finished the dishes together. Several times I looked over and admired her. I liked that dark hair and those beautiful dark eyelashes. She looked so sensuous to me right then. That penis of mine was dangling out there in my trousers, and I knew that there was no way that I could contain myself for very long. I needed her and needed her real bad.

She walked into the den.

"Where are you going?" I asked.

"Just going to watch a little television."

I walked into the den with her, stopping her just before she was about to turn on the set.

"Hang on a second, honey," I said softly. "What's the problem?"

"Well, not actually a problem," I grinned crookedly. "It's just that-well, I happen to be pretty hot right now. Do you suppose that my lover could give me a little action?"

"I'm really not much in the mood," she shrugged.

I sighed wearily. All too often lately I've been hearing replies like that whenever I would say that I needed some sex action.

It was frustrating. So frustrating that I just stood there spellbound for a few seconds, frustrated over not knowing what to do next.

"Come on, honey. Can't you give me a little action? I'm really in a position to give you a good time tonight."

"Why tonight more so than any other night?"

"Just take a look at this stiff joint," I said, pointing down toward my trousers where the bulge was only too evident.

"Yes, you're certainly hard."

"You're damned right I am."

"You sound very intense."

"Isn't that what generally happens when a guy gets as hot as I am?"

"I suppose it does," she nodded.

"Come on, honey. I really could use some action."

"Alright, we can do it then," she said, sounding a little miffed.

That took a little bit of the fun out of it. I mean, when you realize that your wife is all that reluctant about getting into bed and having some sex, it doesn't make you feel particularly good.

But I tried as best I could to eliminate all those thoughts and misgivings as we walked into the bedroom together.

My fingers went to work with furious energy on my white shirt, which I immediately peeled off. Then I took off my T-shirt and my slacks, after which I was ready to remove my shorts.

I figured that when I got my shorts off, she would see that huge bulging hard-on and would really get turned on.

But it didn't work out that way. She looked over at me in blase fashion, not saying much of anything.

As for her, she was going about the act of undressing in a far more casual manner than I was. That didn't make me feel any too good either. Whereas I gave the impression of a guy who just couldn't wait to get started, she in turn conveyed the impression of somebody who didn't have to have it at all.

So she kept on removing her clothes, finally getting down to her panties and bra.

I decided to walk over and help her with the final stages of undressing. I reached back and undid her bra. Then I reached down and pulled at her panties several times.

"That's o.k., dear, I can do it," she said, a little peevishly.

"O.K., fine."

I slid into bed, spreading my legs and looking down at my hard cock. I decided that I ought to warm myself up some more, so I reached down with my right hand and worked those fingers up and down the entire length of my bulging pecker.

"Boy, this cock of mine sure feels good," I said. "Oh, baby, I'm really going to have some hot action in store for you. I'm really going to tear you up."

"I'll bet you are," she said unemotionally.

She finished stepping out of her panties then climbed into bed with me.

I was trembling with need, reaching out and throwing my arms around her vigorously.

"You don't have to squeeze me so hard," she protested.

"Sorry, it's just that I'm so hot I can hardly stand it."

"Well, if you squeeze me so hard, I'm not going to be able to stand it."

"O.K.. dear, sorry."

I loosened my grip on her a little bit, throwing my head forward. I puckered up, then let my lips plunge ever so devastatingly against hers.

I let those lips of mine remain pressed against hers for quite some time. Then I finally removed them.

She looked at me, a little strangely, as if to say that I was a little on the strange side for getting that excited. To me it was just a case of doing what came naturally. I mean, she is a beautiful woman, and I happen to have all these juices stored up inside my testicles. So what the hell else was I supposed to do? How the hell else was I supposed to react?

So now I decided I would make a fervent attempt to get her as hot as myself. I decided that the best way to do that would be to slip that tongue of mine inside her mouth.

So I thrust that tongue forward, allowing it to come into contact with her tongue.

Back and forth those tongues slid, and the longer that they did so, the more excited I got.

The symphony of the tongues continued as I slid mine against hers repeatedly, hoping that I could get her to the point where she would be as excited as I was.

But it didn't seem to work out that way. She just couldn't get as enthused about the act as I was, and even though I was letting that tongue of mine dart and dance around her mouth, she accepted my efforts in a calm manner.

I finally released my tongue from her mouth. Now I was all set to go on to the next stage of the action.

I dropped my head down there between her breasts. I did something that used to drive her out of her mind. I let my tongue slide up and down that shadowy valley which separated her sensuous, pendulous breasts.

But this time I didn't see the same degree of excitement in the way of a response that I had done on so many previous occasions.

I worked that tongue up and down several times in rapid succession, but I just couldn't seem to get her as excited as I would have liked.

After I finished working the tongue down there between her breasts, I decided to focus on her lovely breasts themselves.

I mean, she always did have a pair of beautiful knockers, and time did not decay them one bit. I mean, they were every bit as firm then as they had been when I first got to know her.

Back and forth I allowed that tongue of mine to work ever so eagerly over her left breast. I let the tongue dart and stab, and as I did so, she just lay back there and enjoyed every fervent movement that I put forth.

"Oh, lick me, baby, oh, lick me," she said. "Work that tongue around my breasts."

Now I could see that she was warming up a little bit to the action. She was at least trying to.

But soon that look of mounting enthusiasm passed from her and she looked every bit as blase as she had earlier. That naturally didn't make me feel too good, since I was hoping to get her highly excited.

I finished licking the breasts. By the time I completed the act, she looked at least a little less bored than she had before, which made me think that perhaps I was making more headway than I had thought after all.

"O.K., now you can go down on my mound," she said.

"How did you know' that was what I was going to suggest next?" I laughed.

"I didn't," she told me. "I just figured that that would be the logical next step."

"O.K., I guess I can go along with that," I chuckled.

Now that tongue of mine was working its way around her mound. I was doing the very best that I could by her, hoping to get her as excited as the young woman that I used to know always became under the same type of sustained stimulus.

Back and forth the tongue of mine was working earnestly inside her mound. It danced with great eagerness as I kept it moving at a brisk clip.

While that tongue continued to dance over her mound, I reached up behind her and grabbed a hold of her asscheeks. I knew that it used to really turn her on when I would let my fingers grab a hold of that wonderful flesh, and that was what I was doing right then. I was determined to get her as excited as could be with those finger movements, coupled with the tongue action.

So back and forth I kept moving, letting that tongue circulate diligently over her mound.

I nibbled on her clitoris, finally succeeding in getting her agitated. I knew that if all else failed, that would succeed.

"Oh, tongue me, baby, tongue me," she said. "Now you've really got that pussy of mine worked up. Come on and lick my cunt, darling, suck it, suck that hot snatch of mine."

Now those were words I was hoping to hear. They proved music to my ears as I stepped up the pace of my sucking, working that tongue of mine around her mound every bit as frenziedly as I knew how.

"Oh, nibble on my clit, baby, give me that hot action," she said. "I really love what you are doing for me. Oh, darling, I like it. Come on and work that tongue around, baby, I really want you to do it. Oh, honey, do I ever love what you are doing. Oh, sweetheart, let's fuck, eat my mound, baby, go after the juice. I'm going to be shooting pretty soon. Keep thant tongue working, oh, keep it working."

Now I knew that I had finally succeeded in getting her hot. The old clitoris nibbling had done the trick, as it so often done in the past.

There was just one difference. In the past she had generally been hot even prior to that time, and my pussy licking endeavors only tended to make her that much hotter.

I reached out with my right index finger, allowing it to penetrate inside her hot ass.

Now that finger of mine was probing ever so diligently around that asshole of hers. I kept plunging it in deeper and deeper, enjoying the strokes as I kept them up.

I kept on moving that finger around as my tongue worked its way with skillful ease around her mound.

"Oh, Honey, I'm just about there," she gasped. "Come on and work the tongue, baby. Oh, work it, I want it. I want that action."

Now she was just about ready to shoot, and I was working that tongue of mine as rapidly as I could as I pushed her that much closer to the brink of climax.

"Oh, I want it, I want to shoot," she said. "Keep on sucking, baby, don't let up now. I'm just about there. Oh, don't let up."

I not only wasn't about to let up, I wasn't about to change my method of stroking one solitary bit until I received her juices in my mouth.

A few seconds later she announced:

"Oh, get set, baby, I'm cuming. Oh, I'm shooting, here comes the juice, oh, I'm shooting."

It spurted out of her pussy and into my waiting mouth, making me feel very good.

I succeeded in swallowing every drop of her load, after which I was more eager than ever to get that hard cock of mine off.

"O.K., honey, now I'm set to go off," I said.

I noticed that the enthusiasm that had been on her face when I was sucking her suddenly vanished. I could see that it was only through the fact that I got her organ titillated that she could get turned on at all.

Suddenly she wasn't any more eager than she had been prior to the time that I began my sucking.

"I don't know, baby, I just don't feel like doing anything more," she told me bluntly.

"Come on now, you can't cancel out at this point. Just look at the size of this thing. I need it, baby, do I ever need it."

"Well, make it fast."

"Make it fast! I was hoping that you would go down on me. I was hoping that tonight you would such my cock."

"Come on, honey. I'm not twenty-five anymore."

"Hell, you don't look any older than that," I snapped.

"Maybe I feel a little older than that," she chuckled.

"But I need some release, honey."

"O.K., then here's what you ought to do. Just stick that big cock of yours into my mound. I won't resist."

"It's certainly nice to know that," I said sarcastically.

"What are you so uptight about, dear?"

"Well, here I am so ready for action, and you're telling me that you won't resist."

"What am I supposed to say? I mean, I'd be lying if I said I was all that excited."

"I suppose you would."

"Well, I'm not completely denying it, am I?"

"No, I guess you're not. You have been doing a little bit of that lately, though."

"As I told you, I just haven't been that eager for it."

"I guess not."

"If you want to do it, dear, then you go right ahead."

"O.K., I will."

Now I was playing with those breasts of hers, trying to forget about how turned off she was at the idea of sex and to think exclusively about giving myself some kicks.

That prick of mine was still good and hard as I slipped it inside her mound.

There wasn't any excitement on her part. That body of hers didn't quiver and squirm like it used to whenever I would slip my pecker inside her.

She, as a matter-of-fact, just lay back there and let me take care of all the action. It made it a lot less fun, but she was still tight inside that mound of hers, and I knew that I needed some action one way or another.

The fingers continued to play with her breasts for a time as I kept on plunging that spear of mine relentlessly inside her mound. I began at a fast pace, and let that pace continue, working my prick ever so excitedly inside her.

After working the fingers around her breasts for a while, I worked the fingers down to her ass-cheeks. I let the fingers move so swiftly around her skin as I kept on plunging back and forth with great eagerness.

"Come on, baby, give me a little something in the way of stimulating movements," I implored.

"Move those hips of yours around, honey. That's the kind of action I really like. Come on and move them around, darling. Move those hips around. I want to screw you, honey, oh, do I ever want to screw you."

Now I moved my fingers down to her thighs. I squeezed her thigh diligently. Finally, her body began to move a little bit, but it was quite obvious from the way that it moved that she wasn't so eager about the entire act.

Back and forth I kept on plunging, and now I realized just how close I was to shooting. Even though she wasn't giving me all that I had hoped for in the way of enthusiastic response, I was so turned on to begin with that I really didn't need one.

"Oh, I'm ready now, I'm ready to shoot," I gasped. "Oh, baby, this is great. I really love what I am doing. I love plunging this thing inside you. Oh, darling, it is fantastic."

A few strokes later I heaved a sigh, at which point the spurts of hot white juice came out of the end of my organ, shooting enthusiastically inside her mound.

I heaved a sigh of relief as I removed my penis from her mound.

"Did that do it?" she asked with relief.

"Yes, I won't let you suffer through any more."

"You really are in a sarcastic mood."

"If I sound sarcastic, it's just because I'm a little bit disappointed."

"But didn't you get your sex, dear?"

"Yes, but just one thing bothers me. I didn't like the unenthusiastic way that you went about it."

"As I said, I'm not twenty-five anymore."

"O.K., so you're not," I said.

As I put my clothes back on, I began to feel genuinely saddened. I could see that my sex life with her had really deteriorated in the last few years.

I got to the point where I was reluctant after that to even suggest it to her, and she would never make any suggestions to me.

The whole thing frustrated me so much that I even considered doing something that I had never done before. I considered having an affair with another woman. But the more I thought about the dangers involved in that type of action, the more fearful I became.

At one point, when Mabel and I were getting more and more turned off with each other, she suggested that she take a trip to Florida to visit with her sister and brother-in-law.

I knew precisely what she was thinking. Even though she stressed the point that she hadn't seen her sister in a while, and that it would be a good idea to go and see her, we both knew the real reason. I extended far beyond what she was saying, but was clearly implied.

We figured that it would be best for both of us to be away from each other for a while. She suggested postponing the trip until the early part of the summer. She said that then she could take the three kids with her.

I said that that would be fine and that the kids would no doubt enjoy Florida.

Well, she dicided to leave in late June, and did take two of the kids with her. The only one that stayed behind was Gayleen, who had a summer school course at the high school that she wanted to take. In addition, she didn't want to spend time away from her boyfriend, Marvin.

"I don't want to tell her this, Dad," she explained to me at one point, "but I really dig Marvin. He's so exciting."

"Is he the guy that races cars?" I asked.

"Yes, he's the only one I'm going with now."

"Oh, I remember the old days when you were playing the field," I laughed.

"But that was when I was a young kid," she frowned. "Now I've grown up."

"I know. You're an old lady of seventeen," I laughed.

"I'm pretty mature for seventeen, even if I say so myself."

"Yes, dear, you definitely are," I laughed.

The longer that I looked at her, the more I could see that she was a blonde version of her mother. I mean, the way her mother was when she was very young, at the time that I was just getting to know her. I couldn't help but think that this fellow Marvin was really very fortunate to have a girl like her like him that much.

So I would be sharing the house for two months of the summer with just Gayleen. It made me feel pretty good that at least one member of the family was staying home. I didn't want to hold any of the kids back from taking a trip, but it made me feel pretty good to know that at least one of them would be at home with me. That way I wouldn't be quite so lonely.

I began taking Gayleen on a number of different outings. That is, whenever she was away from Marvin.

Marvin was a cocky young man in his early twenties. He had had an opportunity to go to college on a baseball scholarship but he turned it down to race professionally.

I really didn't like his manner. He was too sure of himself, too conceited for a guy his age. But my little girl loved him, so I wasn't about to stand in her way when it came to her preferences for men.

Many times on weekends she went to races in which he participated, and several times she coaxed me into going along with her.

When she wasn't with Marvin, I was taking her out to dinner or on short excursions.

I was really getting acquainted with her for the first time. A funny thing happens when you've got three kids, it's awfully difficult to ever get well acquainted with one of them. Particularly when you're as busy in your job as I am.

But the better acquainted I became with my young daughter, the better I got to like her. She looked at things in a very mature way.

The better I got to know Gayleen, the more I admired her.

The summer was going beautifully, and, painful as it is to have to admit, I didn't really miss Mabel that much at all, except for one thing. I was feeling awfully horny a lot of times, and found myself beating my meat to a great extent.

But masturbation was something I had been forced into out of necessity anyway. For the first time since I was a very young guy, I had been forced into doing it quite a bit because of Mabel's lack of enthusiasm about having sex.

One afternoon Gayleen went to the races, where she would be watching her boyfriend Marvin perform.

Just as she got set to leave, she asked me if I would like to join her.

I told her that I wouldn't. I said that I had a few things to do around the house. I had a few calls to make concerning my work, but that wasn't what really caused me to stay home. That was just an excuse. I really didn't care that much about going to see Marvin at the drag strip.

So I just whiled the time away during the afternoon, sipping a beer and watching a ballgame on the television.

It wasn't until early evening that I heard Gayleen's car pull up inside the driveway.

I thought it a little bit odd that she was getting in that late. Generally you could count on her getting back earlier than that from a race. But I wasn't too surprised, since I figured she might have gone somewhere with Marvin after the race.

She walked inside the house, then called out in a hysterical voice:

"Dad, Dad, the most terrible thing has happened."

I turned off the television set again, then walked quickly into the living room.

She threw herself down on the sofa and buried her head in her hands. The tears were rolling down both sides of her face in a profuse manner.

She was utterly crushed about something, her face was pale as I had ever seen it.

"What's the matter, dear?" I asked, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"Oh, Dad, he's dead, he's dead."

"Who's dead?"

"Marvin. It's so terrible. He overturned his car. It burst into flames. They pulled him from it and he was still alive. Then the ambulance came and they rushed him to the hospital. Well, I was standing around there most of the afternoon with his parents and his brother. Then he died. Just an hour ago."

"Oh, my dear, I'm so sorry."

And I was sorry. Maybe I didn't like Marvin. Maybe he wasn't exactly my cup of tea as a person, but I felt sorry for my little girl, since I knew that she liked him a great deal.

I did everything I could to console her, but it really wasn't of any use. I mean, when somebody is that brokenhearted over a tragedy, there's really very little you can do. It's just something that they will have to eventually work out within themselves.

I offered to take her to dinner, to do anything that would in any way ease the suffering. But it was of no use. She said she didn't feel like eating anything and just wanted to go to bed. I didn't say anything to countermand her thoughts. The poor girl was crushed, and she certainly could not be restored to normal any time soon.

The next two weeks were very hard ones for Gay-leen and for me as well. I saw this beautiful girl very much in the dumps and I wished there was some way that I could console her.

Also, something else was happening to me. The more frequently I looked at her, the more sexually attracted I found myself becoming toward her. It embarrassed me at first, realizing that I felt that way toward my own daughter. But the longer I looked at her, the harder it was for me not to feel something in the way of sexual excitement toward her.

After all, she had beautiful blonde hair and an overpoweringly lovely figure. She was the type of girl who could be expected to turn men on at any age.

There was another reason as well why it was so easy for me to become that much more attracted to her. In my anxiety to ease her hurts, I was putting my arm around her far more frequently than I had done before, and I was kissing her with great meaning in an attempt to show fatherly love and consideration for her.

But soon I realized that those fatherly kisses actually contained more meaning than that to me. I discovered that I really liked kissing her for another reason. It excited me sexually. And soon I was observing that my cock was springing forth with great excitement whenever my lips would come into contact with her cheek.

One evening after having just a tiny bite to eat, she retired unannounced to her bedroom.

When I saw just how sad she was, it took my appetite away as well.

I made several attempts to eat, but finally gave up on the whole idea.

I walked into her bedroom, observing her lying there on the bed.

The room was dimly lit, and as I moved closer to her, I observed that she wasn't dressed.

She had on her panties and bra, and her underwear glistened in the darkness of the room.

She looked very lovely, even as she lay there on her stomach trembling a little as she cried.

I walked over toward her, my cock harder than it had ever been before around her.

I reached out with my right hand and let it come to rest on her right shoulder. Then I moved that hand around, letting it maneuver soothingly over both of her shoulders, along with her neck.

"Don't cry, my dear, don't cry," I said. "Be good, darling, be brave. You are just going to have to reestablish yourself. No amount of crying is going to bring Marvin back, dear. You've got to realize that. You've got to start' living your own life again. It's not going to do you any good to live in the past that way."

Now I was running my fingers through that smooth, soft blonde hair. And the longer that I did so, the greater the degree of bodily excitement that began to generate within me.

Now I was starting to feel just the way I did when I was around Mabel and was extremely agitated for some sexual release.

I felt hot, awfully hot, and desired badly to some sexual contact.

I rubbed her back for several minutes, after which I noticed that she stopped trembling. Suddenly she stopped crying, after which she turned over on her back.

"Oh, you're so sympathetic, Dad," she looked up at me. "I really appreciate it. I appreciate your attitude. You're trying to make me feel better."

"Yes, I am, dear," I said. "Be calm now. Be very calm."

"Oh yes, I will."

I then leaned my head forward, allowing my lips to come into contact with hers.

This was a kiss considerably different from those that I had given her on past occasions. This was the kind of a kiss that one clearly reserves for a lover, and a lover of whom he thought a great deal.

Those lips of mine remained frozen against hers for several long seconds, and while that was happening I reached out with my right hand and allowed it to come into contact with her warm, smooth lovely breasts.

Her breasts were every bit as good as those of my wife, and the longer that those fingers of mine maneuvered around them, the greater the degree of excitement that began to generate within her.

I could see how responsive she was to my touch. She had an electricity about her, and it was surfacing as she maneuvered her body from aide to side.

That one kiss was only a beginning point. Several times in rapid succession I came into contact with those lips of hers. It made me feel so good to be finally expressing myself to a beautiful young girl, even though it happened to be my own daughter.

Both of us got simultaneously carried away. If we had ever spent any time thinking about the morality of the situation, I'm quite sure that we would have abandoned our lovemaking efforts.

But we were both creatures desperately in need of affection right then. Mabel had turned me off for a long time, and she was gone, so I couldn't even get any second-rate sex. And as far as this beautiful young gal was concerned, she too felt an abiding necessity.

She was feeling terrible about the death of her boyfriend, and she needed something in the way of immediate solace, which she was receiving from me.

Back and forth those fingers of mine rotated around her breasts. I released my lips from hers.

"I've got to get your bra off," I told her.

I kissed her forehead, then let my fingers go to work on her bra. I removed her bra, then let the fingers of both hands go to work on her breasts.

"Oh, I love those fingers of yours," she sighed.

"Yes, Dad, please, keep the fingers working. Oh, yes, I want you to work them around there. Oh, keep them going, baby, keep them going."

When she called my baby for the first time, I got tremendously excited. Now she was starting to talk to me more on the order of what she could be expected to say to a lover rather than a father.

Those fingers of mine went to work prying that bra loose. Then I knew that I had to remove her panties as well.

So my fingers went to work on the elastic which held together those panties. I began to pull downward quickly on the panties.

"Oh, take them off, baby, remove those panties," she said. "Darling, oh, I love what you're doing. Strip me, baby, completely strip me. I want you, oh, I want you."

I pulled off the panties, and let my right hand go to work down there between her legs.

My fingertips maneuvered ever so smoothly around her mound. All it took were a few strokes and she soon began to feel good and hot down there.

"Oh, darling, keep that finger action up," she implored. "I want you to keep exciting me with those fingers. Oh, honey, I really want you to do it. I love what you're doing. Oh, I like this kind of action. Keep the fingers working, darling, oh, keep them working."

Back and forth I was letting those fingers slide. At first I started at a fairly slow and methodical clip, but soon I was working them at a much more vigorous pace.

Now I could feel the moistness surfacing down there between her legs. That pussy of hers was very agitated, and the longer that I moved my fingers over it, the better she liked it.

I was generating a great deal of exciting friction down there between her legs with those fingers of mine. I really loved what I was doing. And she liked receiving those movements from me.

"Oh, honey," she said. "Keep up the finger movements. Then I want you to put that tongue of yours to work down there between my legs. Oh yes, baby, I really want that. I want that so bad. I want that tongue of yours to go to work, darling. Oh, I really want the tongue movements. Oh, I want your tongue. I want you to lick me, I want you to lick that mound. Oh, please, work the tongue around my mound."

I knew that I had her excited by then, so I figured that I would put that tongue of mine to work down there between her legs.

I released my fingers from her mound, then let the tongue go to work with great exhilaration.

Back and forth I was maneuvering it, and as I did so, I let those fingers squeeze her asscheeks.

Back and forth that tongue of mine plunged with great eagerness inside her mound. The longer that I kept up those activities, the more noticeably her legs began to tremble in dramatic response to my tongue efforts.

"Oh, lick, baby, suck my mound," she implored. "Come on and eat my pussy, darling, oh, I really want it. I really want for you to go down on me in style, baby, go down on me till I shoot my juices inside your mouth. Oh, am I ever going to fuck you in the mouth, baby, are you ever a good pussy licker. Oh, suck my mound out, baby, suck it. Oh, now you're doing it just right, you're working that tongue around in just the way that I want it, baby, you're really exciting me. Suck my pussy, oh, suck it, I want it, oh, I want that tongue action. Work that tongue around my mound, darling, oh, darling, I want it, oh, work that tongue around."

My fingers kept maneuvering over her asscheeks as my tongue went to work vigorously on her mound.

Now I was pushing her right to the brink of climax with those fervent tongue strokes of mine.

"Ah, yes, do it," she said. "Just a few more strokes, baby, and I'll be there, oh, suck me, suck me, suck that hot mound, suck that juice out of me. Oh, I want you to suck it out of me. Oh, suck it fast, baby, oh, suck it out of there, suck the whole thing out, I want to juice inside your mouth, darling, oh, do I ever want to juice."

I kept up that blistering tongue action until she finally let out a loud gasp at which point the juices spurted out of her mound and into my mouth.

I gobbled up her pussy juice, enjoying every bit of it.

By the time I released my tongue from her mound, she was in a mood to express her appreciation to me.

"Thank you, that was wonderful," she said, leaning forward and kissing my lips.

Once she released her lips from mine, she reached down and grabbed a hold of my zipper. She unzipped the zipper and pulled out my long hard penis.

"I'm going to play with this, then I'm going to eat it," she said. "You did a great job of sucking me, so I'm going to do a beautiful job of eating you."

"Oh, you're so exciting," I said. "You just can't get enough. You're like me. You want lots of action."

"I certainly do," she nodded. "I'm a hot girl, a very hot girl."

"I guess you are."

"I'm really going to make you happy."

"You already have."

"But I mean even happier."

"Yes, you will. I'll really be happy when I explode those juices of mine."

"I know you will."

Now she was really working those fingers of hers up and down my entire rod. Every time that the fingers came into contact with my penis I felt that much more excited.

After she decided I was hot enough, she let that tongue of hers go to work on the very tip of my bulging rod.

"Oh, that feels just great," I exclaimed. "Just keep that up, baby I really like that."

She worked the tongue ever so vigorously over the tip of my hot, dagger-like rod. Then she felt that it was time to put her tongue to work over the length of my entire pecker.

So now she turned that tongue loose with full force, letting it slide up and down my entire rod.

While those tongue movements fervently continued, she reached out with her right hand and allowed her fingertips to toy with my balls. The combination of the finger and tongue action really sent me into a state of quivering ecstasy.

My whole body was bouncing up and down with great eagerness on that bed as she kept on sucking, working that tongue of hers ever so vigorously over my hot searing rod.

"Oh, suck it, baby, suck it," I said. "Just keep it up, baby, keep up the hot action, oh, that tongue of yours, it's just too much, oh, the way you stroke with it. You've got a beautiful tongue, sweetheart, as good a tongue as I've ever experienced. Come on, honey, suck me, suck me, oh, suck my cock."

That tongue of hers continued to fervently work over my searing rod, and now I was moving all the closer to climax.

Suddenly my whole body began to quiver.

"Oh, I'm there, eat it, eat those gobs of juice," I said. "Eat my cum, baby, go after it, go after the hot liquid. Come on, eat that hot stuff. Oh, I want you to have it, baby, I want you to swallow that hot load of mine."

The droplets of hot white juice shot out of the end of my long flaming spear and into her mouth.

I gasped loudly as I watched the droplets of cum shooting into her waiting mouth.

She was every bit as diligent about collecting the load as she had been about soliciting it. She gulped and gobbled down all the drops of juice from the end of my hot pecker.

It made me feel good, very good, to know that I had received such a brilliant suck.

I grinned broadly as she released her tongue from my cock.

"Thank you, sweetheart," I said, patting her on top of the head.

"You're welcome. You don't know what that did for me."

"And you don't know what it did for me," I replied.

Almost immediately afterwards I "Started feeling guilty about what I had done. But not so guilty that I regretted the action. It had been just too much fun. The type of fantastic time that I had dreamed of having in bed for quite a while, but that I hadn't been able to get.

Well, that evening marked a new stage in our relationship, to say the very least. For the rest of the summer we engaged in periodic sex.

Several days after that first evening, after we had spent a good deal of time kissing, she made a suggestion.

"Come on and enter me, baby, I want you inside my mound," she announced.

I realized that that would constitute a whole new step, but after all, so had that first time that we had had sex together. Never had I thought that I would ever become involved with my own daughter in sex. But I had and had survived it, and I would survive this as well.

"O.K., dear, brace yourself," I sighed.

I then thrust my hot penis forward, entering her waiting mound.

"Oh, drive it in me, I want all your manliness, honey, drive it into me," she said.

I thrust that huge prick back and forth, shoving it into her pulsatingly. The longer I kept up those fervent movements, the closer I came toward orgasm.

I kept on drilling that thing in her mound. I really liked what I was doing. I enjoyed the stimulating sensation of driving and throbbing that penis of mine inside her hot mound. She was so tight, so beautiful, so wonderful, so great in bed. I enjoyed every uninhibited moment.

The longer I pushed that prick of mine around inside her, the better that I felt about everything.

"Oh, send it into me, send that spear surging inside me," she gasped. "Just keep it up until you explode. Oh, keep up that hot action, honey, I really love it. I really love what you are doing to me. Oh, what a man you are. Oh, what sensations, you're giving me. Keep it up, keep up those sensations."

I pushed and plunged that pecker forward until the juices spurted out of my cock.

I felt great after having finished that fuck. Our relationship had taken on new significance. Now I had shot my cock off inside her flaming mound.

Well, Mabel finally returned home with my two sons, and now I really found myself in a predicament.

I want very much to have sex with Gayleen, and several times she has come to me asking for it. But I'm really afraid now. After all, Mabel's back, and if she ever found what was going on between us, it would be downright terrible.

I am really in a dilemma, as you can see. I've been getting some of the best sex of my life from Gayleen, but I'm actually scared to go back for more.

Also, I've had a lot of time lately to weigh the moral aspect of what I'm doing. I realize that it isn't right. After all, this girl should develop contacts in her own age group. She should meet some nice guy who could sweep her off her feet. She shouldn't have sex with me, her own father.

SUMMARY

Both Norman T. and his daughter Gayleen would have to be summarized as creatures of necessity.

Had it not been for the fact that Gayleen's boyfriend had died tragically, and were not for Norman having been deprived of the kind of sexual relations that he wanted from his wife Mabel, it is highly improbable that Norman and Gayleen would ever have gotten together in sex.

But the necessity abounded within both of them. Gayleen needed some love and consolation in the tragic aftermath of her lover's death, while Norman, on the other hand, was in dire need of some vigorous sexual satisfaction.

A psychiatrist who examined Norman explained the following to me:

"Norman was a very dispirited man when his wife Mabel started cooling off in her sexual attitude toward him. One of the things that had attracted him most to Mabel was her vigorous nature, and when that began to subside, he didn't know what to do. He retained his vigorous nature, and when he saw that he was confronted with a woman who was not nearly as passionate as she had been, it upset him no end."

"Then if relations had been proper with Mabel, you don't think he would have had sex with Gayleen?" I concluded.

"That's right. I'm almost certain that he wouldn't have. And that isn't to say he wouldn't have had something of an attraction for Gayleen, given certain circumstances. It's just that, had he been afforded other meaningful outlets, he wouldn't have given in to those temptations that ultimately overwhelmed him in the case of Gayleen."

It was highly unfortunate for Norman that Mabel took the sudden turn that she did. I asked the psychiatrist about that.

"What do you suppose caused Mabel to turn off of Norman?" I asked.

"I've talked a good deal to Norman about that," the psychiatrist replied. "I've attempted to reconstruct the events of Norman's life. I attempted to obtain any information that would indicate any reason for his wife lessening in her love for him. But he told me, and I think quite candidly, that he had no recollection of any such event. He told me that at one point she just stopped caring that much about him. My own feeling is that she reached a stage that women do. Often, even when a woman has been highly vigorous in ssxual relations with a man, she will just reach a point where she feels less of a need for sex. Apparently that is what happened in the case of Mabel, and it worked very much to Norman's disadvantage."

As a result of the distraught feelings that constantly went through him relating to his sudden lack of success with Mabel, Norman felt all the more desirous of making a sexual conquest. Not only did he need it in terms of alleviating the burning sexual need that abounded within him. He needed it as well from the standpoint of his ego.

The psychiatrist elaborated on that point for me:

"Yes, that's very true. The ego manifestation was a very real one. You see, you have an example of a man who had always been very desirable, especially to his wife. He recognized that he was highly capable of taking care of a woman sexually. Then all of a sudden here's his wife telling him in effect that it no longer had any more meaning to her. She no longer cared about having sex with him."

In Norman's distraught frame of mind, he desperately needed a satisfying sexual relationship.

In that he was not about to solicit an adulterous relationship, he instead turned toward masturbation as a means of stemming his sexual impulses.

But when his wife was gone out of the state with two of the children, and at a time when his daughter Gayleen was suffering as a result of the tragic death of her boyfriend, temptation overwhelmed him.

A basically decent man succumbed to circumstances, engaging in an affair with his lovely young daughter.

It is tragic that Norman's wife was not more consistently amenable to sexual contact with him. Due to the dimunition of their sex relations, Norman T. in a state of frustration looked for sex elsewhere, ultimately finding it with his daughter.

Not all thinkers would agree with Norman's attitude of disdaining adulterous relationships.

Given the conditions of his case, some of them would conclude that adultery would have been justifiable.

One current thinker who falls definitely into that camp is Albert Ellis, author of "The American Sexual Tragedy".

In referring to cultural tendencies with respect to sex, contrasting present-day Americans with people of other eras, he concluded the following:

"It is utterly clear, then, that many peoples of the past and present world have been or are, realistic about sex satisfactions of their teen-agers and adults. As far as is known, the sexually liberal societies have managed to survive just as well as many other sexually prescriptive cultures that would enable their citizens to carry on business as usual in regards to political, economic, esthetic, social and family affairs.

"We, however, in our own culture, may be said to be particularly sexually immature because not only do we make certain that our young people will have minimum sex satisfaction, but we also sabotage the sex activity of millions of our citizens who are not married or do not remain satisfactorily married, as well as of perhaps millions more who do. The fact that we circumscribe the sex lives of great numbers of single, divorced, separated, and widowed individuals is obvious and requires no amassing of supporting evidence. Our limiting of the sex lives of our married population is almost equally obvious, and no one who knows anything about human sexual proclivities is so naive or so silly as to believe that all married persons want to have sex relations exclusively with their mates on a day after day, year after year, decade after decade, basis. The fact, however, that monogamy, from a purely sexual standpoint, may not be the most desirable of human customs is perhaps relatively unimportant, and will not be unduly emphasized here-since man does not (normally) live by sex alone, and monogamy indubitably has its advantages, too."

Ellis then goes on to refer to the situation confronting females in regard to sex, relating to tenets established by our society:

"As for our females, we make certain, by our courtship rules, that they are sexually tortured and maimed in at least as many (if not in more) ways as are our males. They are made to feel loathing and disgust for the average male, who would much rather sexually than totally have intercourse with them. They are inevitably made to believe that, at bottom, sex is always a nasty business invented by the male for his own selfish pleasure. They acquire dreadful feelings of inadequacy about their physical attributes and about having so-called undersexed or oversexed capacities. They become emotionally upset when they do and when they do not engage in some form of premarital sex activity. They frequently turn out to be orgasmically frigid both before and after marriage, and, on the whole, they seem to derive about one-tenth the sexual satisfaction and fulfillment of which they are potentially capable when they and their mates are fully sexually released and mature.

"Proof of women's frigidity is shown in a study of K.B. Davis, who found that twenty-six percent of two thousand married women were frigid; in the study of nine thousand women at the Margaret Sanger Bureau, which indicated that 'one out of every four women was sexually unresponsive'; and in the clinical study of five hundred married women which showed only forty-seven percent had a satisfactory sex life. Dr. Kinsey and his associates found that seventeen percent of the women in his sample experienced no orgasm after five years of marriage; and that after twenty years, eleven percent never had an orgasm, and an additional thirteen percent had it less than one-third of the times they copulated, and another twelve percent had it in about half the times they engaged in marital coitus."

The psychiatrist who examined Norman attempted to solve his problem by having a discussion with his wife. It was the psychiatrist's intention to see what he could do about making Mabel a more responsive wife.

After having discussions with Mabel and Norman individually, then together, the psychiatrist began to experience some productive results.

He related to me:

"Mabel had reached the point in her life when she was feeling a little depressed. She had been reading books that stressed a one-sided concept of the women's lib movement. They argued strongly for women getting involved on a frequent basis with men at a sexual level, maintaining that such women were in reality nothing more than sex objects. Even though the statements were in reference to unmarried women, Mabel began to apply them to herself. She was of the impression after a while that her husband was using her, when in reality he had never even considered that prospect, and just wanted to have his sexual needs fulfilled. After I cleared the air and discussed the topic with both of them, Mabel said that she would try and reach some kind of an understanding with her husband. Fortunately things have improved in their marital relationship. I had a long talk with Norman several weeks ago, and he stated that things are better in their married life than they have been since early in their relationship."

Norman's case represented an example of a frustrated man having sex with his child.

The subject of Case Two, Kurt G., was a frustrated young man who had sex with his lovely young sister.

He had certain problems in common with Norman, the principal one being a feeling of frustration and despair.

But there were a number of differences as well. For one thing, Kurt was not as stable as Norman, and it was a lot more readily understandable just how he could get involved with his young sister.

In the case of Kurt G., he had had a good many more affairs with a great number of women than Norman had.

CASE TWO

Kurt G. was a ruggedly handsome young man in his late twenties.

Due to the fact that he had compressed a lot of living into those years, he gave evidence of being actually older than his chronological age.

Kurt was a little distraught at first about revealing his problems, but once I skillfully probed in the form of routine questions, I was able to loosen him up. He then was willing to talk about the complexities of his life.

Set forth herein is Kurt's story:

I married a gorgeous red-haired chick named Renee.

She went to the same high school that I graduated from. It was a high school located just outside Chicago. But I didn't know her, since she was a few years younger than I was.

I met her just after she graduated from high school. A friend of mine introduced me to her. I dug her right away. She was absolutely beautiful, and had a set of tits like you wouldn't believe.

The one thing I noticed after getting acquainted with her, was just how uninhibitedly she would put out when it came to sex.

I mean, when we two climbed into bed, it was really something. I can be quite a sexual gymnast when I want to be, and when a chick turns me on as much as Renee did, then that's exactly what I become. I mean, I just couldn't get enough of it..

I was working with my hands. I worked in the building profession. I guess I could have gone on to college like two of my brothers did, but I didn't really give a damn about college.

I felt that I could make a good deal of money in the building profession. My ambition from the very beginning was to become a contractor, just like my dad had been.

My Dad was pretty well known in the Chicago area as a contractor, and even though it disappointed him at first when I said I didn't want to go to college, he felt good about the fact that I wanted to go into the building profession.

Since my two brothers were college men and were studying to become an accountant and a teacher, it meant that Dad didn't really have anybody to leave the business to. But when I came along saying I was interested in the building profession, he figured that just maybe he could groom me to take over for him.

Well, I proved to be a willing learner, doing a good job. My Dad promoted me until he made me a foreman. As a matter-of-fact, he promoted me one helluva lot slower than he would have promoted somebody else. He made me work that much harder, put out that much more, to prove myself than he would have made anybody else. He wasn't about to let anybody say that I was getting promoted just because I happened to be his son. No, none of that. Not for my old man. He made me work like hell, but finally I began to make the grade, working my way forward and learning an awful lot about the business.

Just as I was about to become familiar with my foreman's job, Dad sustained a heart attack and died.

It really shook all of us up, and my mother all said the same thing-that it was up to me to take over the construction business.

I was little scared in the beginning, thinking the job just might be over my head, since I hadn't been trained for a lot of the things that I had to do.

But somehow I managed to find the groove. I mean, I realized how important it was for me to bale out our proud business, and I put my best foot forward.

In addition, I received a lot of helpful advice from some of the older guys who'd worked for my Dad for quite a while. They were able to give me solid tips on how my old man handled things. It really helped, I'll tell you that.

About the time I started getting things going well, I felt it was time to tie the knot with Renee.

She accepted my proposal, and we were married in a small church one Saturday afternoon.

From there we flew to Jamaica for a honeymoon. We really had a blast. We would spend most of the late morning and afternoon at the beach, then go to our luscious hotel suite, which was so big and extravagant.

But the only thing, to tell you the truth, that we paid attention to in that hotel room was the size of the bed. That was what made all the difference to us. We just couldn't seem to get enough in the way of action.

I remember that first wedding night like it was yesterday. As a matter-of-fact, I can't help but get something of a hard-on just talking about it.

I undressed her ever so slowly, pulling off her pink see through negligee.

I mean, the longer I got a look at those gorgeous tits, the better that I felt.

"Oh, now those tits belonged completely to me," I laughed, running my fingers over them.

"But they always did, dear," she said.

"But now I've got the law on my side," I laughed. "I've got a piece of paper to back up my claim."

"But your claim doesn't rest on a piece of paper. Your claim rests on you r virility, honey. When I'm getting humped by you. I don't need any other action."

"Hey, that's what I like to hear," I threw my head back and chuckled.

I finished prying off that negligee, then reached down there with my fingers, letting them go to work steadily on her breasts.

She began panting from all the activity that I supplied for her breasts. She really liked what I was doing for her.

"Oh, baby, you know just how to make me hot," she said. "Come on, darling, keep working those fingers around. Work them around my hot breasts."

After I finished working those fingers around her breasts for quite some time, I worked my fingers down toward her panties. I tugged at them, quickly and resolutely pulling them off. Then I was all set to put my fingers to work on her snatch.

"How'd you like me to finger your pussy?" I asked smilingly.

"Go ahead, baby," she said. "You know what I'd really like?"

"This is your wedding night, baby, just say it."

"O.K., what I'd really like is for you to finger my pussy with your right hand and play with my asshole with your left. I mean, I want you to finger fuck me, baby, so stick that hot finger of yours up my asshole."

"Hey, that sounds pretty good."

"I remember the last time you finger fucked me. I mean, I thought you were going to run that finger of yours clean through my rectum."

"You mean I did that great a job?"

"You couldn't have been more effective. So, come on, honey, and do it again. Finger fuck my asshole while you're fingering my pussy."

"That sounds like a pretty good combination."

"It will be, I know it will be. I've been thinking about it before."

"Why didn't you suggest it until now?"

"I was waiting until just the right moment."

"I think you've got a point there, honey. I think this is a perfect moment."

"Certainly it is, lover. Come on and work those fingers. I want you to have sex with me, baby, I really want you to go to town."

"O.K., sweetheart, you asked for it."

"Turn it on, baby, turn it on."

Now the fingers of my right hand were busily working their way around her mound. I could tell how hot she was by the way that her legs trembled. I mean, her whole body seemed to come un-glued every time that those fingers of mine went to work.

With great steadiness I worked those fingers around there. I was really making her come un-glued with passion from my finger movements.

"O.K., now finger fuck me, darling," she gasped. "I really want you to put that finger of yours to work inside my hot ass."

"O.K., lover."

So now while I was working those fingers around her snatch, I worked my left index finger into her asshole.

I started out gently, probing softly on the outer fringes of her ass. But the longer I worked the finger around, the more excited I became and she became.

Soon I was probing that finger as high into her asshole as it would go. I was slamming it repeatedly high into her rectum, enjoying those finger movements that I was constantly putting forth.

"Nice, very nice," she gasped. "Come on and work the fingers, baby. Work them quickly. Oh, I want you to work them, honey, work them around. Oh, I like that. I like what you're doing to me, oh, baby, that's it, finger fuck me, finger my pussy, oh, I'm going to be exploding pretty soon."

"About the time you think you're going to cum, let me go down there with my tongue," I said.

"Of course.. I wouldn't think of depriving you of that sensation."

I kept it up until she was just about ready to explode. At that point she let out a gasp.

"O.K., go down on me, lick me, suck me," she cried out.

I removed my finger from her pussy, but let the left index finger continue to probe high into her asshole.

Now I was letting the tongue go to work inside her mound. It splashed with great eagerness as I did all I could to make her shoot in as a fantastic manner as possible.

"Oh, I'm just about there, I'm just about to shoot," she said. "Come on, honey, keep up those tongue strokes. Just keep it up a little bit longer. I'm going to shoot in your mouth. Oh, go after my pussy load, honey, go after my hot juices."

While my tongue was wrapping itself eagerly around her snatch, that finger of mine kept on probing high inside her asshole.

"Oh, I'm going to fuck you in the mouth, honey, I'm going to fuck you in the mouth till my hot juice shoots," she said. "Oh, there it goes, baby, there it goes, it's shooting out of my mound. Oh, lover it's wonderful, oh, is it ever wonderful."

She heaved a sigh, at which point the juice trickled out of her pussy and into my mouth.

I eagerly digested every drop of her joy juice, after which I decided that it was time for me to shoot.

"I want to cram that cock of mine down your throat," I said. "I want to shoot it off in your mouth."

"Oh yes, honey, straddle me like you were fucking my cunt," she nodded. "Shove that thing into my mouth. I want it, baby, I really want it. I want to give you plenty of action."

"You're going to get plenty of action."

"I can tell by the size of this cock."

To familiarize herself even more readily with the overall situation, she reached out with her right hand, and began to pump up and down eagerly on my throbbing tool.

She kept it up for several minutes, after which I just had to call a halt to that type of action. If I hadn't, she would have been pumping my dry with those fingers of hers.

I leaned forward, letting that throbbing dick move toward her mouth.

I thrust it into her mouth, sliding my asscheeks back and forth as I permitted that hot dick to enter her.

"Oh, am I ever going to fuck this mouth," I said with determination. "What a wedding night this is, baby. Nobody ever had any better. I'm going to play with your tits while I'm throat fucking you. Just wait until this body of mine gets in high gear. I'm going to move it around like a piston, baby, and you're going to eat every drop of this hot juice. You're really going to love it, baby, you're absolutely going to love it. I'm going to spill this hot sperm inside your mouth."

Back and forth I began to circulate that cock in her mouth. I knew just how to manipulate it, letting it enter her mouth little by little.

I was letting things proceed gradually, not wanting to have them move too fast. I wanted to savor this fuck, to enjoy this throat fuck as I was delivering it.

"Oh, I love fucking your throat," I said. "What a beautiful mouth you've got. It's just great fucking, baby. I'm going to explode inside that hot mouth of yours. Oh yes, you're going to love it when my juice shoots."

Now I was beginning to let that prick of mine slide in ever deeper. Soon I was pumping it in there to the hilt, driving it rapidly, deeply and intently inside her hot mound.

"Oh, what a fuck, what a lover you are," I gasped. "Just wait till I explode those juices in your mouth. Oh, yes, I'm going to explode them. Yes, baby, this is great. I'm just about there. It's not going to take me much longer, sweetheart, this is what I call great action. This is great sex, baby, oh, is it ever great sex."

Now I was driving into her as deeply as it would go. I was giving her so much action that she could barely breath.

And while that was going on I was pinching her nipples, enjoying the tit action while my body moved back and forth as I stabbed that peter repeatedly into her mouth.

A few strokes later the hot sperm began to spill with voluminous eagerness from the end of my rigid tool and into her hot mouth.

I really got a thrill at the way she attacked that juice. I mean, she acted like a human suction cup, gobbling down every drop of joy juice that spilled out of my pecker.

I felt pretty damned good after that was over, but I still needed a little more stimulation.

"O.K., now I'm going to go off inside your mound," I said.

"You really are horny tonight."

"I couldn't have picked a better time to be horny," I said, "could I?"

"Well, I'm going to shoot off my rocks a second time."

"Great, baby. Sock it to me, honey, drive that cock of yours inside me. I want it, baby, I want you to explode inside my pussy. Come on, baby, fuck me, fuck me good, baby, oh, I want it, I want it, screw me, baby screw me."

"You're getting about carried away as I am."

"You're damend right I am. Come on and fuck my cunt."

"That's just the kind of challenge I want."

"You always do such a great job. You can even slap my asscheeks if you want to."

"So that's been thrown in as an added bonus," I laughed.

"You bet your sweet little butt it is, sweetheart. Now start pumping that prick of yours."

"O.K., you asked for it."

"Yes, by popular demand."

"Right on."

Now I was humping her, shoving that pulsating rod of mine into her hot nest.

Back and forth I was pumping, pushing that prick high and deep inside her pussy.

I was so hot that I knew there was no way I was going to control that action for very long. I had to shoot off my rocks and shoot them off fast and the only way to do that was to just go to work with that long spear of mine inside her snatch.

"Come on and fuck me," she encouraged. "Come on and drive that ramrod of yours up my pussy. Come on, baby. Oh, that's it, work those fingers round my asscheeks. That gives me a little added support. It gives you a little added support too. Oh, that's great action, oh, that's really the kind of action I love, sweetheart. You are really good at pumping. Oh, keep that action going, oh, I really love that. Oh, fuck me, baby, oh, fuck me, baby, fuck me."

I liked her steady conversation. It kept me that much more in the mood as I continued to shove that spear high and deep inside her mound.

"Oh, now I'm going to shoot," I gasped.

I reached out and slapped her asscheeks. Then the jissum shot out of the end of my dick and into her mound.

That was really a fantastic act. I mean, we both loved every bit of it.

That wedding night just gives you an idea as to the kind of intensity that would pass between us when we would get into bed.

Things well for us for a little better than a year. Then something lousy happened. I came home unexpectedly in the middle of the afternoon one Saturday. I had told her that I was going to a ballgame at Wrigley Field with a friend of mine. But we instead sat around a bar and got about half looped. By the time that one of us was alert enough to check the time, we discovered that we'd already missed about three innings of the game.

So I came home earlier than expected, and did I ever discover something!

I walked into the bedroom and, lo and behold, Renee was going down on the postman.

He was sitting there on the bed, relaxing with his postal shirt on, and his pants lowered, and her head bobbed up and down on that long dick of his.

She played with his balls with her left hand while her tongue was manipulating up and down his hard throbbing dick.

"Come on, you cocksucker, such that cock," he called out encouragingly. "Come on and eat it, baby, oh, eat it."

I stormed in the room at that point.

"I'll kill you, you sonofabitch," I shrieked.

At that point Renee lifted her tongue from his prick, jumping up and throwing her arms around me to prevent me from attacking the mailman.

I stood there with my fists clenched.

"Please, baby, please don't do it," she sobbed. "I don't want trouble, I don't want violence.

Please, please no violence. I hate violence."

"Then what are you doing two timing me, you little bitch?" I exploded.

In the meantime, while my wife was trying to hold me off, the mailman slipped his pants back on.

Just as he was about to make it through the door, I shoved my wife off of me, where she landed on the bed.

I reached out and grabbed the mailman and was preparing to wallop him in the jaw when he stopped me.

"No, Kurt, don't do it," he said. "Please don't hold it against me. I'm not the only one. I really am not, I wouldn't have done it if I was the only one. There are lots of guys she's doing it with."

He stunned me with his revelation. So much so that I dropped my hand, losing my grip on him.

"What do you mean by that?" I asked.

"Tell him the truth," the mailman looked over at Renee, who was sobbing as she lay there on the bed. "Tell him I'm not the only one you've been doing it with."

She lay there stunned a few seconds, then replied.

"O.K., I admit it. I've got this thing about men." she looked at me. "I dig doing it with them. But most of the time it's nothing personal. I just suck their dick."

"Oh, so that isn't personal, huh?" I looked at her severely.

I don't think it is. I just need to do it. I just can't get enough sex. A lot of the time you're gone, honey. You work long days."

"Get the hell out of here before I change my mind about not slugging you," I said to the mailman.

He had a look of relief on his face as he walked out the room. He apparently thought that it was a pretty stupid idea to get involved in a fight over Renee.

After I checked out in greater detail what he had said, I had to come to the same conclusion. She was something of a bitch, and I guess I should have been a little shrewder in what I had done in evaluating her character.

There was only one thing to do in the case of Renee, and that was to divorce her. I certainly wasn't about to put up with the kind of crap that had been apparently going on behind my back all the time.

After I broke up with Renee, though, I really hit the skids. I didn't realize just how attached I had been to the bitch until I was away from her. I really got to missing the hot sex she would give me, and several times I actually thought about trying to reconcile our differences, even knowing how trecherous she had been.

I mean, she was so damned good at sex that I was willing to think about putting up with even a little more trechery.

But after thinking about things in greater detail, I rejected that notion. Instead, I did a lot of heavy drinking, and tried to pick up all the broads I could in bars.

I never met one that turned me on one-fifth as much as Renee did, but it gave me something to do anyway.

But it was really a bad period for me, and when it reached the point where I was starting to interfere with my business, I realized I had to do something.

I got to where I starting hating Chicago, mainly because wherever I would go I would see Renee. I mean, not in person, but in my memory. She was everywhere; as far as I was concerned, she was Chicago.

On top of that, my mother and my sister, the baby in the family, both moved away to San Diego, California. My mother also felt like a change of location after Dad died, and finally she took my sister, Claire, to California. She had a sister who lived with her husband not far from San Diego, right on its outskirts, and she decided it would be good to be near her.

On top of that, my two brothers were both gone from the city. One of them was working in Atlanta, Georgia, and the other had a job in Madison, Wes-coasin.

So I finally sold out my interest in the business to a guy who had worked for my Dad for a long time. I figured he was the person who would be most likely to nurse the business back to its former health.

After I had torn it down with my long hours of partying, I felt he could bring it back again. So, one day I just got in my Chevy and drove to San Diego.

I decided to stay with my mother and sister until I could get myself squared away. In the beginning I figured I could take a construction job, and that would keep me going until I had an opportunity to work myself into a foreman's position or something.

The thing that really jarred me no end when I got to San Diego was just how gorgeous my little sister Claire had become. I mean, she had soft blonde hair and blue eyes that just got a hold of you. They had hypnotic power behind them. She had just turned sixteen', but she was built about as good as Renee was when she had blossomed out to full womanhood.

This Kid Claire was really something, and quite naturally she had the boys after her all the time.

I got myself a job right away working construction. In the evenings I did quite a bit of heavy drinking, and it affected my performance on the job. But I knew the business so well that I knew about what I could get away with. There were times when I was just systematically loaf. I'm not fond of admitting that, but I might just as well admit all the truth.

I would hit and miss with the broads in the bars, and I was still restless. I still hadn't found anybody that could excite me like Renee.

But there was one thing I did notice. When I would see Claire around the house, my eyes would be focused on her practically all the time. That Kid was downright gorgeous, and I just couldn't take my eyes off her.

Then something happened. As we became closely attached, something we never were back in Chicago due to the fact that she was just tiny little gal during most of that period and I was much older, I started getting jealous of a lot of these guys that came around to the place.

I came home drunk one night and she was sitting on the sofa making out with a sailor.

I can get damned mean when I've had my share of whiskey. I mean whiskey mean, and that's what happened that night.

This sailor punk was much older than Claire. You know San Diego. I mean, it's constantly swarming with sailors.

I know the old expression about sailors having a girl in every port. I know damned well they will take a girl, and ball her, and then forget the hell about her.

Well this young punk was flipping his fingers inside her blouse and playing with her tits as I walked in. He was just leaning forward kissing her lips as I slammed the door.

The sound of that slamming door caused the sailor to look up with great surprise.

"Where's Mom?" I asked.

"Oh, she's over at a friend's house," Claire smiled sheepishly.

"I figured," I nodded. "I guess that's why you're taking liberties like this."

"Who is this guy?" the sailor looked at Claire with annoyance.

"This is my brother, Kurt,"

"Why the hell is he bugging us?"

"I'm bugging you because I don't like your looks, sailor boy," I said, walking toward him menacingly and clenching my fist.

"What's with you, you crazy bastard?" the sailor asked.

He jumped up from the sofa, and backed away, his face turning a little pale.

"I don't like being called names like that," I said. "Get out of here, sonny boy, while you're all in one piece. And don't come back, if you konw what's good for you."

"This place is some kind of a damned crazy house," the young sailor said with disgust, shaking his head and walking out the door.

Once he closed the door behind him, I turned on Claire.

"You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Kiddo, for pulling something like this," I said. "Don't you know that those guys don't want to do anything other than get inside your pants?"

"Well, he was a nice guy. I wish you'd mind your own business, Kurt."

"Like hell he was a nice guy. If I didn't make that my business, then this character would have taken advantage of you."

"I know what I'm doing," Claire snapped angrily, her face reddening. "If I like a boy, why can't I go to bed with him?"

"You're only sixteen years old. What do you want? You want to wind up picked over at twenty-one or something?"

"I know what I'm doing,"

"Sometimes I wonder."

Then I did something strange. I sat down next to her on the sofa and threw my arms around her. The next thing I knew my lips were plunging against hers, even more passionately than the sailor's lips had plunged against them a few minutes earlier.

I released my lips from hers. She was shaking.

"Have you gone mad?" she asked in a whisper.

"I love you, baby. Maybe I didn't realize it until just then, but I really love you."

"You're weird, baby, real weird."

"I'll plead guilty to that," I said, stroking my fingers through her hair. "But I still love you. I can't help it. Maybe that's why I've been so resentful of all these guys. I guess it goes beyond being protective like a brother. My old cock is so hard now that I don't know what to do. Come on, darling, let's go into the bedroom."

"Mother will be home pretty soon."

"How much time have we got?"

"A little less than an hour."

"Then let's go."

I got up from the sofa, grabbing her hand and pulling her up from the sofa.

We walked into the bedroom, after which my fingers went to work on her blouse.

I quickly removed it, then took off her bra as well.

I guided her downward on the bed, running my fingers over her lovely breasts.

"Oh, what tits you've got," I said. "I don't blame the sailor by for trying. Maybe I was a little too harsh on him, I don't know. But I want you, darling, I want you real bad."

After removing her blouse and bra, I let my fingers go to work on her slacks, which I pulled down with several tugs of the wrist. Then I removed her panties.

I decided then that I ought to get my own clothes off, and it certainly didn't take me long. I ripped them off quickly, then jumped into bed with her.

My fingers went to work playing with her pussy. I really got the friction going, with my fingertips.

"Oh, you know just how to excite a girl," she gasped.

"You're damned right I do."

"Oh, that's so nice."

"You know what I'd like?"

"What's that?"

"how many cocks have you sucked?"

"A few."

"That's what I figured. You're a pretty shrewd girl for sixteen. O.K., then we can do it sixty-nine style. I'd like to eat you while you're eating me."

"Oh, great. I did that with Neal the other night."

"Who the hell is Neal?"

"The guy that you just chased out of here."

"Oh, the sailor boy."

"That's right. That's Neal."

"Well, let's not say any more about him. Let's just confine the conversation to ourselves. Right now, we are the only ones that count."

"That's fine with me. Oh, keep those fingers working on my pussy."

"You'd better believe it, I like playing with this groovy snatch."

"I like what you're doing to it. Oh, I'm so hot all over. It's great, honey, you're just great with that finger action. I love it, darling, oh, do I ever love it."

Back and forth the finger movements continued. Finally I removed my fingers from her mound.

"Now I've got to kiss this pussy of yours," I said. "I'm going to see to it that that snatch of yours is supercharged with electricity."

"It's already burning on all cylinders right now," she chuckled.

"I'm sure it is. I can tell from the way your legs are trembling. But it's gonna get even hotter, baby, that action is going to get so hot you're not even going to be able to stand it."

"Do I ever like to hear talk like that."

"It isn't going to be the talk that's going to turn you on, it's the action, honey. I'm a man of action. I've got action in my cock and action in my balls."

"I hope you've also got action in your tongue."

"Plenty of it."

"That's great."

"They call me the guy with the four wheel drive tongue."

"How are you on the freeway?"

"I'm better on pussy."

I proceeded to prove my point immediately by kissing her snatch several times in rapid succession.

It was just like thousands of tiny thunderbolts were flashing through her entire body as she trembled like crazy from the action that I was providing her.

"Oh, honey, keep kissing my cunt," she said. "Keep those lips on it. Oh, turn the tongue loose, baby, eat my hot pussy. I want to give you a nice warm meal, baby, I can do it, oh, can I ever give you a meal by you licking my pussy. Oh, it's a hot pussy, it's a responsive pussy, oh, baby, I love it, I love what you're doing to me, start licking that mound now."

I released my lips from her pussy, then put my tongue to work on it.

I started by maneuvering the tongue very slowly; actually I was only giving her a teaser at that point in time. I was saving the extra hot action for a little later.

After I succeeded in getting her thoroughly turned on with my licking movements, I switched my sucking activities to her tits.

I had admired those tits from a distance for quite some time and now that I was able to turn my tongue loose on them, I was feeling extra happy about it.

Back and forth the tongue was diligently manipulating. I started out working at a slow, gradual level, but soon I was turning myself loose and sucking at a fervent clip.

"Oh, drive that tongue, baby, drive it," she gasped. "Come on, honey, turn it loose. Oh, I want that hot tongue action. Do I ever want it. Oh, I love it. I love what your are doing to me. Keep the tongue going, baby, oh, I want it, I need it. Come on and work it quickly."

I kept on working that tongue around her tits. Then I quickly released it.

"I'm ready for the sixty-nine action," I said.

"Oh, yes, darling, let's do it."

She positioned her body on top of mine. If you don't think I was turned on looking at that beautiful ass, then you've got another thing coming. I worked my finger around the asscheeks, then turned the tongue loose with invigorating speed around her box.

While that tongue of mine was systematically going to work on the snatch, she was letting her tongue go to work on my cock and balls.

She worked that tongue beautifully over my hot testicles, then would let it slid over my long prick.

My old prick had steam coming out of it, it was so hot from the action that she was providing.

Finally, after she had gotten me so hot that she didn't know which end was up, she worked that tongue quickly up and down the entire length of my rod. And while she was doing that, she played eagerly with my balls. That way I was getting double sensations.

But I wasn't about to be outdone. I came up with my share of double sensations for her as well. While she was licking my cock and playing with my balls, I was sucking her snatch out an running my right index finger high up her asshole.

Every time that I plunged that finger deep inside her rectum, she would squirm. It made me feel all the hotter and more excited.

That fervent action continued as a vigorous clip, and through it all I was moving that much closer to climax.

She got so hot that she shot her pussy juices into my mouth. I had a feeling, though, that she wasn't about to stop there and that she would be exploding her juices again.

So I kept on with the sucking, hoping to get a second load of pussy juice in rapid succession.

The second load of of pussy juice was quickly forth-coming, and now I realized just how close I was to climax.

A few strokes later my whole body came un-glued and I started trembling like crazy.

I released my tongue from her mound, and announced:

"Get set, baby, I'm aiming, cuming, cuming. Oh, oh, what a load. Ah, eat the hot cock juice, baby, eat it, eat my dick, oh, baby, eat it, go after it, oh, this is great, go after my hot dick."

She did a fantastic job on the cocksucking, swallowing just about every delightful drop of the hot white jissum that spurted out of the end of my rod.

We finished our sex act at that point, but it certainly wasn't about to be the last act that we enjoyed together.

Things unfortunately reached a tragic note at one point. I did something that I didn't think I would do. I thought I had enough will power to stay out of her pussy with that shooting cock of mine.

But I couldn't quite seem to do it, even though it would have been the smart thing to do. I should have refrained from fucking her there, but I didn't.

One afternoon after I had gotten extra hot by going down on her hot box, I went to work with that big cock of mine inside her mound.

It was true that she was a tight fuck, and I knew after I exploded I wasn't about to stop with that, I would go back for more of the same.

Well, eventually she came to me complaining of feeling funny.

"I wonder if I could be pregnant?" she said.

"Have you been doing it with anybody else?"

"No, I haven't been doing it with anybody but you. I have not for months, anyway."

Right then I felt about two inches high. She went to a doctor and it was confirmed that she was pregnant.

Then she had to go through the painful ordeal of getting an abortion, And I had to go through the painful ordeal of hiding the whole thing from my mother, which wasn't an easy thing to do. But we succeeded. Thank God for that. It could have been worse in that one respect anyway.

Since then I've been so depressed that I haven't even been able to work. I've been kicked off of several jobs for drinking too much and working too little.

I don't know how I'm going to cope with this terrible depression. It's awful, absolutely awful.

SUMMARY

Kurt G. was in the unfortunate position of carrying a torch for his beautiful wife Renee.

Even though he missed her greatly in terms of sex, he recognized that he would be making a tragic mistake in going back to her and receiving more in the way of her misbehaviors.

So as a result, he accepted his painful suffering. When Kurt attempted to obtain meaningful sexual release through other sources, his efforts were thwarted. He would mentally compare the various women with whom he had sex to Renee, and they were found wanting.

For one thing, he was not in a very good psychological frame of mind. That being the case, he was not in a position to attract stable, lovely girls. He found confused women much like himself.

The psychiatrist who examined him related the following to me:

"Kurt admitted that just about all of the girls that he had sex with both in Chicago and San Diego, excluding his own sister, of course, were strange, weird women. He said that their personalities often depressed him, yet he would put up with them, at least for a little while, while he enjoyed sex with them. But he admitted that after a while the idea of even having sex with them became so hollow to him, that he abandoned the whole notion."

At a time when he was highly distraught, Kurt did what a lot of people do in the same or similar circumstances. He decided that a change of location would take his mind away from Renee and put it back into a proper focus.

He stated that he could think of no one other than Renee when he would see certain sights in Chicago. Such is the kind of traumatic gloom that many men encounter after losing a wife through divorce, death, or any one of a number of other tragic means. The memories live on, and when the individual drives down a certain street, he remembers that wife or sweetheart had been with him on so many other occasions while he was driving down that same street.

So Kurt moved to San Diego. But when he arrived, the problems magnified.

For one thing, his sister Claire was a very wild girl to begin with. She entertained a number of sailors at their apartment whenever her mother was away.

At the age of sixteen, she confessed to having had experiences in fellatio. She was very well grounded in the art of sex, and Kurt, feeling a measure of protectiveness toward her as a brother, was bothered by that fact.

It is quite likely that in the early stages he was either exclusively or at least primarily concerned about Claire's welfare, and for that reason was strongly opposed to the fact that she had so many boyfriends.

At some unforeseen later point, apparently the strong attraction for Claire merged with his protective brotherly instinct for her.

The psychiatrist stated:

"Kurt told me that he couldn't quite explain just how and when he became so emotionally involved with his sister. He said that for a while all he could think of was protecting her, although he might have had something else in the back of his mind. But all of a sudden, there she was looming large before him. He said he got taken in by those hypnotic blue eyes and that beautiful face. Then the next thing he knew he was kissing her. That was the beginning of the end."

The psychiatrist suggested that Kurt leave San Diego and relocate in some place like Los Angeles or San Francisco.

His rationale was the following:

"I felt that going back to Chicago would probably bring back the whole syndrome of Renee. By going to Los Angeles or San Francisco, he would be far removed from Chicago, removed from San Diego where he could visit if he wanted to, but wasn't so close that he would be constantly reminded of his involvement with Claire. He agreed, telling me he would go to Los Angels and look for a construction job. He even said that he had an old buddy that he had grown up with in Chicago who had a construction crew out in the Newhall area, just outside the city of Los Angeles."

It is difficult to determine at this point in time just what will happen to Kurt in the final analysis.

He remains a frustrated man, and the pains of guilt are there as a result of impregnating his own sister.

He does have one thing on his side. He is a young man, and the younger a person is, the greater the opportunity they posses to shrug off tragedy.

If he can maintain a position of flexibility, and will get away from the heavy drinking, perhaps he has a chance to regain the successful position that he once held in Chicago when he took over a business for his father and did a highly capable job.

At least in the case of Kurt, he recognizes his problem, and is determined to steer clear of any sexual relations with his sister in the future.

The case of Glenda W., the subject of Case Three, is far more tragic, since she continues to possess a compulsive urge to have sex with her brother.

That situation is more greatly complicated by virtue of the fact that her brother Peter is a married man with two children. But Peter possesses strong urges for Glenda, and as a result they have been carrying on a clandestine relationship during the three years that Peter has been married.

Glenda's case is one of the most uniquely fascinating ones that I have ever encountered. What separates is in so many respects from so many incest situations is that young Glenda, a beautiful statuesque girl of twenty-five, just can't seem to reconcile herself to the fact that such a sex relationship is inevitably destined to end up in disaster.

She seeks to continue the relationship, considering her brother Peter more in the image of a husband than in that of a brother.

In Peter's case, the situation is tragic in a number of respects. First, is that he remains devoted and dedicated to his wife in a number of ways. He also enjoys sex very much with his wife. Since he is attempting to be a devoted husband, he therefore has experienced tremendous feelings of guilt and insecurity over the fact that he has continued to have an affair with his sister.

In the case of Glenda W. an entire team of psychiatrists was put to work on the case. They were kind enough to let me interview Glenda, then to compare notes with me on a definitive scale so that I would be closely apprised of everything that was occurring.

I was most appreciative of their generosity. It all serves to operate in the interests of scientific investigation.

The case of Glenda was extremely sad, and it is to be hoped that through extensive investigation, repetition of such tragic cases can be avoided.

CASE THREE

I heard about Glenda W.'s plight from a number of psychiatrists prior to the time that I first met her.

I expected to meet a confused, diffident, very frail young girl.

I was quite astonished when I first cast my eyes on this lovely brunette fashion model of twenty-five.

She was immaculately dressed in a blue suit, and she had a demure, polite manner about her.

Everything about the lovely brunette indicated class, right down to the dainty manner in which she sat down in the chair across from my desk.

I couldn't help but be fascinated by her at the very outset. She was the type of girl with whom I would have been fascinated even had I not been aware of her highly strange background.

She talked in a very frank, steady manner, but as she began to discuss more emotional subject manner, that concerning herself and her brother, she had a tendency to become rattled.

Following is Glenda's story:

From the time that I was a very young girl, I've had men always trying to paw over me.

I recognize that I am beautiful, and that is the reason why I receive all this attention. In a way, I'm flattered, but in another sense, the whole thing kind of depresses me. Why? Very simple. I mean, if I were less attractive, I wouldn't be receiving all this attention, would I?

That's what bothers me. I'd like somebody to admire me for my inner self rather than for my outer beauty, which was something that was given to me by God and something I had no control whatsoever over to begin with.

But anyhow, I reached the point where I got frustrated, with all these men constantly after me.

I was very independent, keeping to myself.

When I started college, I developed a fondness for my roommate.

She was a lovely girl by the name of Diane. Diane was a sparkling blonde, and was in great demand at all of the parties around school.

Well, Diane wanted to go out with a different guy every night. As for me, I told her I didn't go for that route. I'd been through it in high school, and I knew that most of those guys weren't concerned about anything other than a quick piece of ass.

Diane was always after me to double date with her, but most of the time I turned her down. On a few rare occasions, when it appeared that the guy was a little on the interesting side, I would take her up on her offer. But for the most part I chose to just stay in my room and study. To me that was a whole lot more interesting than going out with most of those clowns that she dated anyway.

The longer that I looked Diane, particularly when she was in her panties and bra, the more impressed I became with her.

I thought it a little strange at first that I spent that much time looking at her, but after a while I didn't let it bother me anymore. I would look at those smooth, flowing breasts, and her lovely legs, so perfectly tapered to exquisite precision.

So one evening Diane came home from a date that she had had with a tackle on the football team.

"That sonofabitch," were the first words that came out of her mouth when she arrived in the room.

"What's wrong? Isn't Moose Morgan a gentleman?"

"That bastard," she shook her head. "It's tough enough fighting off any man, but imagine trying to fight off some muscle bound two hundred and forty pound ape with hair all over him. That's Moose."

"I told you, honey, that it isn't a good idea to date just for the sake of a date," I said. "I gave up that kind of nonsense a long time ago. When I got out of high school, to be exact."

"I guess you're a whole lot shrewder than I am, then."

"I hope he didn't get away with raping you or something," I said, closing the book that I was studying from.

"No, but if we hadn't been somewhere there were people around, he might have gone that far," she revealed. "He got real fresh at a drive-in. Naturally just about everybody there was afraid to say much of anything to him. The one brave soul, a little guy in his forties, came over and told Moose to cut it out."

"I hope Moose didn't slug the poor guy."

"He told him to get the hell out of the way or he would."

"So what happened then?"

"Oh, at that point the guy looked Moose squarely in the eyes and told him if he didn't cut it out he would call the police. He said he could answer to them. Well, that sobered the big baboon up. I took advantage of the opportunity to jump out of the car. That nice little guy drove me home."

"I hope you thanked him."

"Did I ever. I gave him a nice kiss."

"I'm sure that he regarded that as thanks," I smiled.

"I'm sorry, Glenda. I guess I wrecked your studies."

"No, it's almost eleven. I was just getting ready to turn in."

"Oh, I see. Well, I'm sorry I disturbed you by going into this tirade."

"These guys just don't appreciate you," I said. "At least they don't appreciate you in the way that somebody like I could."

"You're such a doll, Glenda," she looked at me with admiration. "You have these guys gawking at you all the time too. But you re really smooth. You're so smooth the way you put them down. I mean, you put them down in a way that they know exactly how small they are. Has Moose ever asked you for a date?"

"Oh yes."

"I bet you put him in his place."

"I said no, if that's what you mean."

"I'll bet you did. You're so beautiful. I really do admire you."

About that time my stomach started turning flip-flops. Apparently she thought the same thing about me as I thought about her. The next thing I knew, she was looking at me with great admiration.

"You really are beautiful, Glenda," she said. "Your shoulder is always there for me to lean on."

"You're not a leaner, honey. You're just a beautiful girl who doesn't seem to know how to handle her popularity."

"I guess you're right. You put everything so intelligently."

"You talk about admiration," I said. "That's what I feel about you, darling."

I leaned forward and let my right hand slip inside of her blouse. I grabbed a feel of her lovely left tit, and she heaved a sigh of excitement as I did so.

"Oh, it feels good when you touch me there, darling," she said.

"I love touching you, baby. I love you so much. At long last I have the guts to express myself about it"

"Oh, darling, that's great. It's great."

Now Diane was letting her head move forward ever so slowly. She permitted those lips of hers to plunge ever so vigorously against mine.

It was great to have those lips frozen against mine, and my whole body was trembling under the stimulating passion that she circulated throughout my body with her kissing.

I threw my arms around her body, hanging onto it tightly. All the while our lips remained pressed together fervently.

It was Diane who finally released her lips from mine.

"Oh, honey, there are so many things I'd like to do to express my love for you," she said. "It's so much nicer cuddling up with somebody like you rather than with a crude, rough sonofabitch like Moose Morgan."

I was wearing my pajamas in anticipation of going to bed in a short time.

She leaned forward and undid my pajama bottoms, pulling them off with one lunging wrist movement.

"I want to really express myself to you," Diane said with determination. "I want to show you just how much I care for you."

Now she pulled down my pajamas then reached out and grabbed a hold of my panties.

"I've got to take these off too," she said. "I'm going to get them off, then I'm going to show you just how much I do think of you."

She tugged eagerly at the panties, pulling them off completely. Then she let her head drop down there between my legs.

I thought I orgasmed on the spot when she began to kiss my cunt. She kissed it several times in rapid succession, and by the time she finished, I was so hot I could hardly stand it.

"Oh, that feels so good," I said. "Oh, you really know how to excite me, darling. You really do. I'm so excited, honey, so excited."

She then let that long red tongue of hers begin to exercise itself on my mound.

She started out by licking in a slow fashion, deliberately designing things so that the tempo would accelerate gradually.

"Oh, that tongue of yours, it feels so great," I gasped. "Keep the tongue working, darling, oh, I really love it. I really love that hot tongue action. Keep the hot tongue sliding, baby, oh, I never thought I could have this much fun. Oh, I'm getting it from a woman, but it doesn't seem strange at all. It seems like I should always have had it this way. Come on and suck my snatch, honey, suck that pussy of mine."

Back and forth that tongue began to twist and turn. Now she was working the tongue at a quicker clip than ever, allowing it to circulate back and forth in a spirited fashion as she provided me with all kinds of magnificent sensations.

"Just keep it up, you're doing just fine," I said. "Oh, my darling, keep up that hot licking. Keep sucking my mound. Oh, if you only knew how much you were exciting me. It's great. Oh, it just couldn't be greater."

Now my entire body was twisting and turning at a rapid clip as the sucking continued.

She kept on working that tongue of hers around systematically, pushing me that much closer to the moment of climax.

"Oh, honey, I'm going to juice in your mouth," I said. "Get set for a nice hot fuck in the mouth. Oh, darling, you're so great with that tongue of yours. It's such a magnificent tongue, you work it so well, oh, work it, work it down there, suck me, baby, oh, suck me to climax, darling, oh, suck it."

Several strokes later I heaved a sigh of relief as the pussy juice shot out of my mound and into her waiting mouth.

She then released her tongue from my snatch. I was feeling a lot better about everything. I had spent so many minutes just looking at her, I guess wondering what it would be like to have sex with her. Now it had become a reality.

"I made one mistake, dear," she confided in me after it was over.

"Whatever could that be? I thought it was great."

"Well, here's what I mean. I should have sucked your breasts before I started on your mound. I was going to suck just about everything, even your armpits, but what the hell. I got so turned on there was no other way to go."

"You did beautifully."

"If I take off my clothes, will you go down on me?" she asked.

I was a little nervous about trying something new.

"I don't know," I said. "I've never done anything like that before."

"Didn't you see me do it to you?"

"Yes, and I will admit, it was great."

"O.K., honey. Then you just work that tongue of yours around inside my snatch. You'll like it too."

I had to admit that she had a point. After all, if she could do it to me and I could love it, then I owed her the same kind of treatment.

"O.K., dear. I'll give it a try. I don't know how good I'll be," I laughed.

"You'll be great. I'll see to it."

"I'm glad you've got confidence in me."

Now she stood beside the bed, removing her blouse. She then took off her bra, showing me those lovely firm breasts that I had always admired to such a great extent.

"You like these tits?" she asked grinningly.

"I think they're fantastic."

"Good, because I want you to suck them. I want you to suck my tits. You're really going to love it. You're going to love sinking that tongue of yours into my nipples and breasts. You'll really like it"

"O.K., I'll see what I can do," I smiled.

I've got to admit that I was really getting excited as I watched her continue to undress.

Now she was working at her skirt. The closer that she got to removing it, the more impatient she seemed to become.

"I've got to get all this off," she exclaimed. "I'm going to take off everything so that you'll be free to suck me."

"You do that, darling."

She removed her skirt, wiggling out of it. Then her fingers went to work on the elastic which held together her panties.

"I've got to get the panties off," she sighed. "Once I get those off, you're going to be able to see my nice pussy. And you know, it's already moist. It got moist when I was going down on you. I got so excited sucking your twat that I got a little dewy myself."

"How exciting."

"Yes, isn't it."

I watched as she slipped the panties down her legs. First they slipped against her thighs, then her ankles, and finally off her altogether.

I looked at her furry triangle, surrounded by blonde hair.

She then lowered her body into the bed. She was lying on her back in the middle of the bed.

"O.K., sweetheart, you can start out by sucking my tits," she said.

I leaned forward and started sucking on her left breast, letting my tongue manipulate enthusiastically over it.

"Now don't go too fast," she warned. "I want you to move the tongue around slowly at first. But as time goes by, I want you to start sucking faster. Work it gradually, baby, work it gradually."

I followed her orders, realizing that she knew where it was at.

That tongue of mine began to manipulate with great vigor, yet controlled vigor, against her breast. Once I finished doing a thorough job on one breast, she asked that I put my tongue to work on the other one.

So once more my tongue went to work, doing for the right breast what I had already done for the left.

Back and forth the tongue went to work. Now she wanted me to put it to work as fast as it would go.

"Work it fast, darling, let's let that tongue go to work," she said. "Come on and suck that tit, baby. You know how I want it. I want the sucking, baby. Work that tongue around, darling, I really want you to work it. Oh, do I ever like that. Oh, work the tongue, baby, work it fast. I want it, darling, oh, I want it."

Now I was driving it at a vigorous clip. I was keeping up the pace, getting carried away from the beautiful movements I was putting forth on her breasts.

"O.K., now when you are letting the tongue move against my tit, I want you to take the fingertips of your right hand and toy with my pussy," she said. "Come on and play with that snatch of mine, darling, that will get me even more excited. Then when I get excited enough, you can put that tongue of yours to work inside my mound."

So I did precisely what she asked. I gave her double action, sucking her hot tit while my fingers were working their way with great enthusiasm around her mound.

Now she was becoming uncontrollably hot. I knew that she was about as ready to have that pussy sucked as anybody could be.

"O.K., go down on me," she said. "Put that tongue to work on my snatch. Oh, I'm burning up down there, darling. Oh, am I ever hot. You made me that way, honey. You're beautiful, honey. You turn me on. Come on and suck my mound out. I'm already moist down there. Now I want you to go after the juice, honey, I want you to go after my warm pussy juice."

So now I switched my sucking movements from her breasts to her snatch. I put that tongue to work with vigorous enthusiasm, letting it drive with great skill around her hot mound.

"Oh, work it, work it," she sighed. "I don't want you to start out slowly. I'm past that point, honey. I need the fast action. Oh, baby, do I ever need it. Work the tongue quickly, baby, oh, work it. Suck my snatch, sweetheart, oh, suck it, suck my hot pussy. Come on, darling, oh, go to work, oh, come on, baby, go to work. Suck me, oh, suck, suck me, baby."

Now I was whiplashing that hot tongue of mine with great ferocity over her hot snatch.

She was just burning up down there. She wrapped those lovely legs around my head, giving me some extra satisfaction as my tongue continued to go to work inside that burning mound.

"Suck me, baby, oh, suck me," she exclaimed. "Go after that burning snatch juice, darling, you can do it, oh, you're going to get it, baby, you're going to get it, I'm going to gush in your mouth, I'm going to juice, oh, honey, am I ever going to juice, am I ever going to juice inside that mouth of yours."

A few moments later she did juice, letting that snatch juice shoot out of her hot mound.

I felt terrific after I received her load. I guess I had subconsciously wanted to do that for a long time. Now I had given vent to my passion, and I felt real good about it.

That was the start of a beautiful love affair that lasted almost three years.

I didn't have any desire to go out with boys, even though I occasionally dated. I guess the only reason I even went out then was that I didn't want the talk to circulate too much about me being an oddball.

But I didn't really care about any of the young men at school. I was turned on with Diane. She was all that mattered to me as far as sex was concerned.

Diane dated every now and then, but that experience with Moose taught her a valuable lesson. She was a lot more discriminating when it came to say-.ing yes to guys who wanted to take her out.

But during that period of time I don't think she honestly and truly got hung up on anybody. She just went out, and that was about the extent of it.

But finally she did meet a guy by the name of Rex who apparently did turn her on in a big way.

One time she came back to the room and announced that she and Rex were engaged to be married. She said they would be getting married at the end of the school year.

I congratulated her, but all the while I felt like somebody was sending a knife right through my heart. I knew what that engagement meant. No longer would we be engaging in our sex sessions. We had gotten to the point where we were experts at sixty-nining. We would go down on each other sometimes for hours on end, just burying those tongues in each other's pussy well.

But all good things have to come to an end, I guess, even though I truly hated the day that that came to an end.

Now that she was engaged to be married, that was the end of our romance.

I even went to the wedding, although I was crying inside all the while.

I didn't have any more affairs during college. Oh, the guys were after me, but I knocked them down like a skilled bowler knocking down tenpins in a bowling alley.

I went into the modeling business right after college. I did it, however, only as a last resort. When I found out how little most women make, even with college degrees, I figured that I'd better put those looks of mine to work. That was the only way to make big money, I figured.

So I started getting modeling work. Much to my regret, a couple of times I had to swallow my scruples and blow some agents. But it all enabled me to get to the top.

As far as my personal life was concerned, there really wasn't much of it.

I was still turned off by men, especially after being used by a couple of those agents, who made no bones about the fact that I had to blow them in order to get work.

I would occasionally see a girl that turned me on, but I always thought about the incident with Diane, and I was really afraid of being crushed. So I never pushed ahead, even though I had a few chances. There were some models I worked with that I was, quite sure wanted to have affairs with me, but I never gave them the opportunity and after a while they stopped trying.

At that particular time, when I was doing very well, my brother Peter, whom I hadn't seen since I left California, a few years earlier, showed up in New York.

I was quite surprised to see him. He was a strapping, handsome guy, and I knew he had been in the Army. We had corresponded a few times from Vietnam, and I wanted to know how he was doing.

I'm so depressed I don't know what to do," he said.

"What happened?"

"I lost my best friend. My friend Jack got killed over there."

"I'm so sorry to hear that, dear."

I remember how he had written about Jack in his letters. But it was even more than Jack's death that was bothering him. The whole tragic episode of that war, along with seeing young men get killed, upset him something terrible.

I did recall that Peter, who was three years younger than I was, had been a pretty sensitive kid. I mean, he was tough enough to withstand a rough life, but they would still hurt underneath the surface.

That was the way it was as far as Vietnam was concerned. He was able to tough it out as far as going over there went, but when he saw the terrible waste of war, it made a profound impact on him.

I knew that he was in a terribly distraught frame of mind, and even though he told me he didn't know whether he would be staying in New York or not, I thought that I had an obligation to try and help straighten my poor brother out in a time of great need.

"Why don't you stay with me, Peter?" I said.

"Hell, Sis, I wouldn't want to do that."

"And just why not?"

"I'd be putting you out."

"Nonsense. It has been getting quite lonely in this big apartment to begin with. I'd just love to have you here sharing it with me."

I finally talked him into staying. It made me feel good. I hadn't been kidding one bit when I had said how lonely I was starting to get. It was starting to give me the creeps, and now that young Peter was staying with me, I began to feel better.

We began going out together to a few shows and to restaurants. What with my accomplishments in the field of modeling, I was able to get good tickets to shows free, the best of the Broadway productions, and when we went to a number of restaurants we would be seated at one of the better tables.

"I didn't realize my sister was a famous woman," he smiled.

"It doesn't mean a thing to me."

"No, I don't think it does," he laughed. "You're a pretty genuine gal."

I went to work to try and find Peter a job. I finally located one for him at a bank. I didn't know whether he would like it or not, but I figured it would at least get him some kind of start, an opportunity to make some money.

He began working in the Investments Department, and much to my surprise, he really did like the work. He seemed to have a definite grasp for financing, and soon he started talking less about the tragedies of the Vietnam War and was concerned more about his job.

As for me, some time within that period, I began to admire him in more than just a sisterly way. He had a virility and a confidence that I like. That coupled with his sensitivity, I found myself becoming attracted to him.

One afternoon after I came home from a modeling assignment and he-was sitting in the living room sipping a drink with his robe on, I became more excited than ever.

"Think I'll join you," I said.

"Let me fix you a drink."

"What are you having?"

"A Bloody Mary."

"O.K., I'll go along with that."

"That's fine. I'll fix you one."

By the time we finished having three Bloody Marys apiece, I was sitting close to him on the sofa.

I looked into his eyes with an ever deepening intensity. Suddenly my gaze precipitated a response of the same type within him.

"Sis, you're absolutely beautiful," he said.

"Then why don't you kiss me?"

"You really think I should?"

"I certainly do."

"O.K., I will."

He leaned forward and kissed my lips. That first kiss was highly experimental. He was wondering just how it would affect him.

One kiss quickly led to another. Finally, he decided to explore even further, to the extent of letting his tongue loose inside my mouth.

That first French kiss that we exchanged was a jolting experience for both of us. Tongue splashed eagerly against tongue, and our bodies were quivering with passionate excitement.

He finally released his tongue from my mouth.

"I can't believe it. It feels so good," he said. "I've never had emotions quite like these go through me. It's weird. We're brother and sister, but it seems like we're something else."

"I know, darling, but don't fight it. If we think too much about it, we'll get turned off. This is too good a thing we've got going here. Let's not ruin it."

"O.K., I'm game if you are."

"That's good, darling. I'm glad you're talking that way."

Now he leaned forward again, once more allowing that tongue of his to slip inside my mouth. With spirited grace he let that tongue slide ever so eagerly against mine. Once again we were generating passions within each other, matching each other stab for stab.

Peter finally broke that lengthy French kiss that we engaged in.

He leaned forward and began to undress me.

"Oh, Peter darling," I sighed. "Do to me whatever you want. Oh, you've got me so excited."

"I've just got to fuck you," he said, unzipping his trousers and pulling out his hard dick.

"Oh, that penis looks so delicious," I said.

"I'm going to drive it into you, baby. I'm really going to give you some sensations."

"I'm sure you are."

"As a matter-of-fact, while I'm getting warmed up, while I'm taking off your clothes, reach out and grab a hold of that dick. Pump up and down on it."

"O.K., dear, anything to get you hot."

"Right on, sweetheart."

I reached out with my right hand and began pumping up and down on that long dick of his.

For once a man was exciting me, exciting me out of my mind with passionate exhilaration.

I kept on pumping up and down on that prick of his, and all the while he continued removing my clothes.

When he finally succeeded at taking off my panties, he was so hot that there was no holding him back.

"Oh, now I've got to fuck you," he gasped. "I've got to enter inside that mound of yours. Oh, I need it, baby. I need to screw you."

"O.K., darling. Drive that prick into me."

"Right away, honey."

He maneuvered me down on the soft rug. He leaned forward and kissed my lips, simultaneously working that prick of his inside my mound.

He heaved a sigh, releasing his lips from mine, as he began to put that prick to work inside my pussy.

Back and forth he was driving that rod of his, working it at a highly effective pace.

He was exercising himself with brisk movements, driving that rigid prick of his time and again inside my mound.

"Oh, darling, keep it up, keep pumping at that same pace," I implored. "Keep that up, baby. Oh, I love it. I love what you're doing to me."

He kept up those fervent strokes until the juice finally spurted out of the end of his long prick and into my vagina.

"Oh, you're in my pussy, oh, you're in my pussy," I exclaimed.

He then kissed me one more time. It was a perfect way to end our beautiful sex experience. We began it with a kiss, and that's exactly how it ended.

Several nights later, Peter came in late. He walked in my room.

"You mind if I sleep with you tonight?" he asked.

"No, I don't see anything wrong with that."

"I'd like to sleep with you all the time. I mean, after a few nights ago, after what happened then, well, everything's different."

"I realize that."

He removed his trousers. When I saw him standing there in his shorts, I called out to him: "Come over here, dear."

He could tell from the inflection in my voice exactly what I had in mind.

I pulled down those shorts of his with great ferocity. I could hardly wait to get them off him, so I could put those fingers of mine to work on his cock and balls.

The fingers of my right hand went to work up and down briskly on his long dick, and while that was happening, I used the left hand to play with his balls.

"Oh, you're really tearing up my nuts," he laughed. "Come on and work that tongue of yours around my prick, honey. It's so hot now. I need to bolt my load in your mouth. Come on, honey, and let me fuck you in the mouth."

My head surged forward and I let my tongue slide up and down the base of his long throbbing spear.

Back and forth those movement s continued, and his whole body was quivering with excitement as I kept up the spirited sucking.

"Oh, keep it up, darling, oh, I need it," he gasped. "Just a few more strokes. Oh, am I ever going to' spill that hot stuff in your mouth. That semen is going to be spurting, baby, oh, it's all going to be spurting. I love it, oh, I love this action, I really love it, baby, oh, it's so great."

He heaved a loud sigh, at which point that hot white juice shot enthusiastically inside my waiting mouth.

"Oh, I'm in you, I'm in you," he gasped. "What a great cocksucker you are, baby. Did you ever do a good job of going down on my dick."

Well, that drew us even closer together. For the next nine months we lived together as lovers. I wasn't interested in anybody else, and neither was he.

Then something happened that just crushed me. He met a girl that he worked with at the bank. He came to me one day and told me that he was in love.

Now, it made me think about Diane, my lover from college. I wondered if I would ever be able to have sex with him again.

"Can I still make love to you?" I asked, my heart pounding.

"We probably shouldn't do that."

"If we're discreet about it, I think we could do it."

"I don't know. We'll see."

Well, eventually I talked him into continuing our romance. He married this girl just a short time later.

Now he and his wife have two young children, but I still am constantly on him to continue our affair.

He occasionally has sex with me, but it isn't often enough for me. On top of that, I have on occasion felt very guilty about having sex with him in view of the fact that he is married and has a family.

Twice I tried to take my life in the last few weeks. I just get the feeling that life isn't worth living anymore.

As far as I am concerned, the business I'm in, at least a lot of it, is just dog eat dog and there's really no sincerity or feeling. The men just ogle you like crazy, particularly if you're wearing a bikini or something, and you know what they're thinking. They want to slip their prick inside you.

But I'm not interested in any of them.

I am interested in Peter, but I can tell I am driving the poor guy right out of his skull by keeping after him.

His wife, at least as far as I know, never suspects anything. But I know with all the pressures that I'm forced to cope with, life is becoming strictly a losing proposition.

SUMMARY

The psychiatrist who examined Glenda W. came to one distinct conclusion-that her problems commenced with her intense lesbian relationship with Diane.

When they examined her further, they made a discovery. One of the psychiatrists explained it to me:

"Glenda is really a very possessive girl. She was that way with her friend Diane, she admitted upon intense cross-examination. She said that she wanted to go everywhere with Diane, and that any time that a man looked at Diane or Diane looked back, she felt intensely jealous. If Glenda had just considered Diane to be a casual passing affair, like so many young roommates do in college, the problem wouldn't have compounded to the extent it did, culminating in a relationship with her brother."

In terms of defining lesbianism and its various aspects in the practical sense, R.E.L. Masters did a capable job in that respect in his book, "Forbidden Sexual Behavior and Morality."

In discussing lesbianism, he made the following observations:

"The insistence upon preserving the roles is somewhat more marked in lesbian (female homosexual) relationships than in male homosexual ones. The 'dominant' or 'active' partner, the one in the 'male role' is known among lesbians as the Butch, while the 'passive' partner, the one in the 'female' role is a Femme (or Fern). Individuals who overtly and freely move from one role to the other are known by the term Ki-Ki (Kigh-Kigh), which is one of disapprobation. Much of this is, however, a social veneer, psychologically important but perforce abandoned in actual sexual relations, for the same reason that the exchange of roles occurs among the male homosexuals.

"Except in tribalism (apposition and friction of the female genitals), where there may be approximately equal stimulation, the individual in the male role may be left unsatisfied unless the role reverse takes place. Why the deception is so widely insisted upon, when the fact of life is known to all lesbians, must perhaps be explained on the basis of the Butch's need to maintain at least vestiges of the illusion that she is truly the masculine partner in the relationship. (This is an illusion also fostered by the manner of dress, short hair cut, absence of make-up, and so on; sometimes by the assumption of the male economic role in the relationship, and by other behavior.)

"In a society whose laws are enforced almost exclusively by males, the lesbian enjoys considerable advantage over the male homosexual. Lesbian sex acts are never prosecuted (there are extremely rare exceptions) and lesbians are likely to face special harassment by the law only when they frequent 'gay bars' and other gathering places of male homosexuals. But they may be incidental victims of the 'crack-down' periodically staged by the police in most cities against the 'queers'."

In the instance of Glenda, as one can readily observe, many of these phenomenon alluded to by Masters did not apply.

The case of Glenda, as I pointed out much earlier, was a very strange one. She remained a highly feminine woman, certainly not falling into the category of a 'Butch'. But she nonetheless wanted to maintain a dominance over her beautiful lover, and it is quite likely that Diane was reacting as much to that dominance as to the opportunity of a romance with a man when she ultimately ended their sexual relationship.

These frustrations that abounded within Glenda, starting with her dissatisfaction with men, were then compounded by the limitations and frustrations inherent in a homosexual type of relationship and drove her to the point wherein anything and everything was possible, even an incestuous affair with her brother.

With respect to limitations and frustrations, Masters concluded the following:

"Something should be said about limitations and frustrations of homosexual intercourse from the homosexual's point of view. We perceive, for example, that the passive or female role homosexual, the homosexual who is most likely regarding himself as a female soul or psyche in a male body, is precisely the one in competition with genuine female, and precisely the one who can offer his partner nothing in the way of physical contact the woman can offer-and who, indeed, can offer one most vital pleasure less. That is, he can offer only his mouth, his anus, his hands (fellatio, sodomy, and masturbation)-all of which a woman can also offer-and he significantly lacks the piece for resistance of a real woman: the vagina in coitus. Here the passive homosexual recognizes the absolute and unmistakable proof of his ersatz womanhood and of his inferiority on the physical level to woman as a sexual partner. That the awareness of this deficiency is no myth is attested to by the hundreds of appeals received by Danish and other foreign physicians after the case of Christine Jorgensen became known (and when it was thought that she had been left with a functional vagina').

"That the female role homosexual can offer his partner less than a woman can offer is somewhat ironic, that the male role homosexual who is in no sense in competition with women, affords pleasure that no woman can possibly offer. That is, he offers his penis-sodomizing the other, and permitting the other to fellate him. Not competing, he is without a rival while the competing passive homosexual is not fitted by nature for the contest. All this would be more significant were there more rigid adherence in a matter of roles.

"The male role lesbian is also seriously handicapped by her lack of a phallus. Masturbation and cunnilingus may be offered by the male member in tribalism, the only instinctive lesbian act. Tribalism, which is basically a stimulation of the external genitalia, not too different from the stimulation possible in cunnilingus and masturbation, is more dispensible so far as most not exclusively lesbian females are concerned than is coitus. The lack of a penis is keenly felt by a male role lesbian, and this lack is not infrequently been the decisive factor in most triangles where male lesbians are in competition for a female love object. (A case of this kind describing the suicide of a lesbian resulting from her inability to be a complete lover to her mistress-resulting, that is, from the lesbian's lack of a phallus and incapacity to provide the vaginal penetration required by her mistress-described by Medard Boss in his book Meaning and Content of Sexual Perversion. The case is a particularly tragic one, the lesbian an especially intelligent, sensitive, generally affable person, and well points up the great importance of this anatomical deficiency of the male role lesbian.)"

The definition of material relating to homosexuality is presented to illustrate one point, that Glenda's psyche was injured to a tremendous extent in such a state of affairs.

Now she seeks to cling to her brother Peter. Her only chance to lead a normal life will stem from coming to grips with her basic problems in a meaningful way.

She is constantly consulting with psychiatrists, and it is to be hoped that her suicidal impulses will ultimately be quieted and she will eventually be able to establish a meaningful sex relationship with a man. One, that is, who does not happen to be a relative.

The subject of Case Four, Patricia L., is fortunately a much better adjusted person than Glenda.

But in her early teens, she was forced into a situation by a demanding brother that could have destroyed her.

The interesting case of Patricia emphasizes how important it is for a person to attempt to retain a sense of balance, particularly in a potentially tragic state of affairs.

CASE FOUR

Patricia L. was the wife of a successful medical doctor.

When she heard about the fact that I was attempting to collect documentary material, she agreed to relate a story about herself to me, provided that I would not reveal her identity. I told her that I never reveal the identities of any of my subjects, which gave her a great deal more confidence.

Patricia's story follows:

My brother Cal was the type of guy who was into everything.

He was very athletic, I mean, that body of his was in perpetual motion all the time. He couldn't stand to sit still and study, so as a result he was a pretty lousy student, even though he had a good head on his shoulders.

But as far as athletics were concerned, that was another story. He was always in both football and basketball.

But the athletic field didn't provide him with an opportunity to get rid of all of his stored-up energies. He was also chasing the girls around every chance he got.

But Cal had one big problem. The girls he was attracted to were the very good looking ones, and they were the girls who were a little bit more discriminate than he would have liked when it came to putting out for sex.

I remember one night when he came home after a date with this girl who was a cheerleader on the football team. She was very cute and all the guys at school had a crush on her. I was just fourteen then, and still in junior high.

Cal came back from his date, and he had this sour look on his face. It surprised me, since he had been so concerned about dating the girl. I would have thought him to be happy just over getting to go out with her.

He burst into my room just as I was getting ready for bed. I had just put on my pajamas.

"What's the matter, Cal?" I asked.

"That damned Rita. She wouldn't give in."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that she wouldn't have sex with me. A guy gets all worked up like that. Then he doesn't get what he needs. And to make matters worse, she let me kiss and pet her. Naturally that got me even more turned on. So she gets me turned on at this point, then lets me go. That isn't fair. It's not fair at all. I don't like it one bit."

"I'm sorry you weren't completely satisfied, Cal."

"But just look at the size of this hard-on I've got," he exclaimed.

He was talking very low so that the folks, whose room was way down the hall from where our rooms were, couldn't hear.

Then he really shocked me by pulling out that hard dick of his, removing it from his trousers.

"Just look at the size of this thing," he said.

I stood there with my mouth open. It was the first time I had ever seen his penis. And naturally it would have to be when it was hard as a rock. I will say this. It was a good sized cock by any yardstick, and I could tell by the anxious look on his face that he wanted some action.

"I've got this passion all stored up, and there's no outlet for it," he said. "Unless you can give me a hand, Sis."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Look, honey, I would never think of fucking your mound. You're a virgin anyway, aren't you?"

"Yes, I'm only fourteen."

"Well, some girls aren't at fourteen, you know," he laughed. "I figured you were. I was sure you were. Besides, even if you weren't, I wouldn't want to stick my pecker in your mound. What the hell would ever happen if I knocked up my own sister? I know a guy that I go to school with that did that. That was really a bad scene. But I'll tell you what you can do. You can suck this big dick of mine."

"Oh no," I sobbed.

"Don't make any noise," he held up a cautioning hand. "The folks might hear. Come on, honey. You don't know how much this would please me. It would mean everything to me if you would just go down on that prick of mine. Just suck it, darling, just go down on it. You're a lovely girl. I really admire you. Now please help out your older brother. Please just grab a hold of this prick and suck on it."

"But I'm scared," I said.

My whole body was trembling, and now I was starting to break out in a sweat.

"Don't be afraid," he said. "Just take this dick of mine and start playing with it. You can start out by running your fingers up and down it. Then you can slide that tongue of yours around. Come o honey, you can do that for me, can't you?"

"I will touch it anyway. Can you get any satisfaction that way?"

"I guess that's better than nothing," he sighed. "That's more than that damned Rita was willing to do for me. She wouldn't even jerk off my rocks. Go ahead and try that. Then let's see what develops from there."

On that note I reached out and took his penis from out of his hand. I ran my fingers smoothly up and down the long hard surface of it. It was nice and warm, along with being very hard, and the longer that my fingers worked up and down it, the more excited I became. It really gave me a tremendous feeling to run those fingers up and down it. I couldn't get over it. I never thought that I'd be this excited having a form of sexual contact with my own brother.

"Keep working the fingers," he implored. "Keep working them up and down my long pecker."

I was getting carried away from the action as I kept up those finger activities. Finally, he had some other-ideas.

"O.K., baby, now I wish you'd suck on the tip of that rod of mine," he exclaimed. "Come on and do that for me, darling. Just work that tongue of yours around the tip. That's what I want you to do, and as the enthusiasm grows, then you can start working your tongue up and down my entire rod"

I leaned forward and began to work my tongue over the tip of his prick. At first I was scared, since I was doing something so far removed from anything I had ever done before. But the longer that that tongue of mine worked around his rod, the more excited I became.

Soon I was working the tongue faster, and I was doing it without him even having to encourage me.

He ran his fingers through my hair, stroking my head ever so gently as my tongue kept on working fervently up and down the length of that entire rod.

"Come on and suck, darling, come on and suck that prick of mine," he said. "I want you to stay with it until the juice starts spurting. It will be spurting pretty soon, darling. It's not going to take long, baby. I'm getting good and hot. Just keep up that tongue work. Keep the tongue sliding around my rod. Oh, I like that sense of time you're developing. You're really getting good at it now. Move that tongue up and down the whole base. Work it up and down this long cock of mine. Come on, baby, and let's enjoy it together."

Now I was working faster than ever, allowing that tongue to work fervently up and down the length of his entire organ.

It was a mammoth organ, a warm, firm organ, and I was really learning to like that kind of fervent action as that tongue of mine kept on working with enthusiastic grace up and down the length of his entire spear.

"Come on and suck," he exclaimed, "come on work that tongue around. Oh, work that tongue, baby. Oh, suck me, I need it. I need that hot action. I need you to keep on turning that tongue loose, baby, I really love it. Oh, I'm itching all over, I'm itching from those sensations you're supplying to me. Keep up that hot action, honey. Keep on driving with that tongue of yours. Keep on driving away."

Now I was like somebody who was possessed. I just couldn't wait to get to the end of this sucking. I wondered what it would be like to collect those juices that would be spurting from out of the end of his rod. I wouldn't even have known about the juices if it hadn't been for a sex education class I had and as a result of hearing some girlfriends of mine talking about how their older sisters had told them about cocksucking.

There I was, blasting away, letting that head of mine bob up and down with great eagerness as I kept on sliding that tongue up and down his rod.

"Stay with it, honey," he said, "I'm going to fuck that lovely mouth of yours with my white juice. Just wait until it spurts. Oh, is it ever going to spurt beautifully. You're just going to love it, darling, you're going to love every second of it. I'm going to gush inside that hot mouth of yours."

A few seconds later, his body began to convulse. I had a feeling that that was the start of his climax, so I braced myself as that tongue of mine kept on moving spiritedly up and down his entire organ.

"Eat it, darling, oh, eat it," he exclaimed.

Now those fingers of his were clutching my head firmly as the spirited white juice began spurting voluminously out of the end of his hot dick and into my waiting mouth.

"Oh, that's it, baby, stick with it, stick with that load," he exclaimed.

Much to my embarrassment, I wasn't able to handle the entire load.

I spat out a number of drops of the white orgasmic liquid. I coughed a little-

"Come on, honey, stay with it," he told me. "Honey, don't cop out. Stay with that juice, eat it, eat as much as you can. I know this is something new. I don't blame you for spitting some of it out, but hang on to most of the load. I need you to .swallow it. It makes me feel so good when you do that. Come on, darling, stay with it, stay with those juices."

I did manage to hang onto a good deal of that load and that somewhat placated him.

He heaved a sigh of relief, giving me a big grin when it was all over.

"Thank you, lovely Sis," he kissed my forehead tenderly. "Now I guess I can go to bed and get a good night's sleep. I never could have slept, though, if you hadn't helped me out."

"You were pretty excited, weren't you?"

"Oh, honey, I couldn't have been more excited. That damned little cockteaser bitch that I was with turned me on so much. She let me kiss and pet her. Then after all that was over, she couldn't have the decency to let me get my rocks off inside her. The damned bitch."

With that he left the room, closing the door behind him.

It wasn't until the lights were out in my room and I was lying in bed alTby myself and had time to think that I started to feel guilty about what had happened.

I wondered if I had cheapened myself by letting my brother get his rocks off inside my mouth. I had never done anything like that before, but one thing was certain. I really enjoyed it. I just couldn't help it. Once I turned that tongue loose on his dick, I found that I liked it very much.

I didn't think any more that night about whether this would be our only such sex experience.

About two weeks later Cal came into my room again, wearing the same kind of a frustrated look.

The moment that Cal stood before me, I knew what the score was. I looked down at his trousers and observed the huge bulge there.

"I got shut out again tonight," he shook his head. "You know, when I was driving home, though, I didn't feel as frustrated as I did last time. I got to thinking about you. You're such a beautiful little gal, Sis, and on top of that you're just great when it comes to the sucking."

"I really don't know if I can do it again."

"And just why the hell not?"

"It just isn't right," I shook my head. "I don't think I should be doing it."

"Don't give me this guilt crap," he shook his head disgustedly. "You know that you dug it last time, don't you?"

"Yes, I liked it."

"O.K., then how about us going at it again? I want to get another head job. I'll have another nice load for that beautiful little mouth of yours."

"O.K.," I sighed.

"Once you get rolling, you'll remember how good a time you had last time."

"I already remember that," I told him. "I could never forget it. It's just that I'm worried that I might get hooked on you or something like that."

"Let's let the future take care of itself, baby. As for the present, let's go at it."

Now he unzipped his trousers, reaching out and grabbing a hold of that hot pecker of his.

"Come on and take it away from me, baby. Come on, lover, and work those fingers around my dick. I want you to work the fingers around this pecker beautifully, baby, then I want you to go to work with that tongue of yours on my rod. I want you to suck it, baby, I want you to give me the same kind of a beautiful suck that you gave me before."

This time he was more demanding than he had been on the first occasion. I guess Cal figured that I had served my apprenticeship, and now it was time for me to get into some more sophisticated methods of this type of activity.

My fingers worked at a feverish clip, manipulating spiritedly up and down the length of his entire rod. It was amazing how acclimated I would become to sucking, based on that first incident.

Now I was stroking like an old pro, working those fingers beautifully up and down the length of his entire organ.

"Now you're really working those fingers," he grinned. "I want you to take your other hand and let those fingers work around my balls. The testicles need a little action too, sweetheart. Come on and work those fingers around my balls, work them around my cock. I like that kind of double sensation, honey, it really turns me on in a big way."

Back and forth I kept up those spirited movements on his cock. While that was going on, I worked my fingers over his balls as well.

I noticed those balls of his getting larger and larger, and they were just bulging with sensations.

After the finger activity had proceeded to such an extent, he was driven into a state of exhilaration. He cried out:

"O.K., honey, now I want you to suck my balls. I want you to just turn that tongue of yours loose against them. Come on, honey, suck them. Work the tongue over my hot balls. Oh, baby, I need that kind of beautiful action. Work the tongue around there. Work the tongue around my balls. I need that, honey, that will get me good and excited. Then you can turn the tongue loose on my cock. So work it, darling, oh, work it."

Now I was working the tongue around the balls, just as he had requested.

Once again I was made to discover just how excited I got from that type of sex activity. The tongue was working around with feverish passion as I kept up those fervent movements.

"Don't let up for one second," he said, running his fingers through my hair gently. "Work the tongue around those balls of mine. Let that tongue cut loose, baby, oh, let it work, baby. Work it, baby. We're really making time now, honey, we're really coordinating. We're doing it beautifully. Oh, what a hose artist you're going to turn into. You're going to be the best cocksucker around, baby, so keep up those beautiful movements."

I kept on working that tongue of mine gingerly around his balls. Now they were bulging to such an extent that he needed me to open up on his cock.

"O.K., now go down on my dick," he exclaimed. "I want you to work that tongue around my cock. And while you're doing that I want you to finger my balls. Keep the fingers working over those bulging balls while that tongue is going to work on my cock. I need that kind of double action, sweetheart, I really need it. Work that tongue around, darling, oh, I want you to work it."

Now I was coordinating my efforts beautifully, working the fingers around his searing balls while my tongue manipulated up and down the entire length of his organ.

"Now, you're clicking, suck it, oh, keep up the sucking," he exclaimed. "You know where it's at, sweetheart, oh, do you ever know where it's at. Keep on sucking, baby, oh, I like it, I like what you're doing to me. Drive that tongue, darling, oh, drive it, I like that, oh, I like what you're doing."

The double sensations of the balls massaging coupled with the cocksucking drove him to the limits of sexual excitement.

"Just a few more strokes, just a few more of those hot strokes," he gasped. "I'm getting ready to shoot, darling, oh, are you ever turning me on with that hot action. Keep it up, sweetheart, oh, keep it up."

Now my head was bobbing up and down with wild enthusiasm as I put him through the closing paces.

"Ah, there it goes, eat it, go after it, honey, don't cough now, go after all of it," he said. "I want it, baby, I want that hot juice. I want it in your mouth, baby, oh, do I ever want it, oh, what a great act, oh, this is fantastic, oh, this is great, eat it, honey, eat it."

This time I almost succeeded in that endeavor. A few droplets spilled out of the sides of my mouth, but I was able to hang onto most of that load and it was a very delicious one, a highly enlightening experience, to say the very least.

Once again, Cal was satisfied. He patted me on top of the head and said:

"You're the greatest, Sis."

With that he left for his room. I must admit that I felt pretty good after that second episode. A lot of the guilt feelings that surfaced after the first time we had done it, didn't reappear the second time. And on top of that, it made me feel that I had really accomplished something since I had swallowed almost all of his load.

After that second sucking episode, Cal reached the point where he felt that he could call on me any time that I was needed.

When he would go out and score with a chick, he would come back in a contented frame of mind. But when he didn't, then I would be there to serve the purpose.

Little did I realize at the time, but I was creating a terrible problem for myself.

When I started high school, I was so experienced in the art of cocksucking, and was so excited over the prospect of engaging in it, that I could hardly wait to suck about as many cocks as I could.

Another problem occurred at that particular point in time. My brother Cal, after graduating from high school, went into the Navy. That meant that he was gone and I had to search for other subjects.

So I got the reputation in high school for being the best cocksucker around. None of the guys could get into my pants, and I remained a virgin. But as far as going down on dicks was concerned, I couldn't get enough of that.

After I graduated from high school, I had such a sordid reputation that I moved to another part of the city.

I got a secretarial job, and went to visit a psychiatrist, telling him all about these impulses of mine.

He suggested that I lay off of the cocksucking no matter how much I might like it. He suggested that I lay off until I happened to find the right man, the kind of man I would like to marry. He said that if I cheapened my reputation, it would be difficult for me to meet the kind of man that would make a good husband and provider.

I had to agree with his point of view, and I went searching for that right man.

I went steady with a man at the office for quite a while. For a long time I thought that he would be the man that I would marry. I didn't, but I did surrender my virginity to him.

After we started having sex regularly, I performed fellatio on him, but I pretended that it was a big deal to succumb to that act, as I didn't want him to know how much I really loved it.

Well, one day not long after I broke up with this man, and was in a pretty sad frame of mind, I fell down and broke my arm in a freak accident in my apartment.

Naturally, I had to go to the doctor, and my landlady recommended a young man that she went to, a man who hadn't been out of medical school for very long.

That freak accident turned out to be the greatest thing that ever happened to me in my life. I not only met a nice doctor. I met a husband. We started going together regularly, and eventually we got married.

I used the same sort of resourceful strategy as I had applied in the case of the man I had gone with at the office. I didn't in any way tip him off as to how much I enjoyed fellatio. No way. I didn't suck him until we had been going together for a long spell.

I just knew that I had to take things easy. My entire life rested on it. I wasn't going to cheapen my name any more.

So I've enjoyed a happy married life ever since then. I've thought every now and then about Cal, wondering how he is doing.

After he served his hitch in the Navy, he settled in a little Texas town-I don't even remember the name-and got a job as a garage mechanic.

We don't even hear much from him these days, except to get a card at Christmas time.

Every time that I feast my eyes on his Christmas card and read the little note that he inscribes, the memories drift back to those days in my bedroom when I would go down on him.

I thank my lucky stars that I stopped when I did. If I had kept it up, my reputation would have been so blackened, that I never would have been able to get any decent guy to go with me, much less marry me.

I love my husband very much, and fortunately he knows nothing whatever about that facet of my life.

SUMMARY

I was eager to ask Patricia L. just what prompted her to reveal all this information to me.

"I would like to set all this down as a part of the record to help some poor, unfortunate girl who might not be as lucky as me," she explained. "Fortunately I was able to adjust in time. There are an awful lot of girls who don't. I am trying to provide a little hope for them by showing what happened to me. I was able to finally pull back. I could have gotten burned a lot worse. But what I'm saying is, that even if a girl has been getting burned worse than I did, there is still hope for her."

"The moral is that the girl has to practice restraint, even if there are certain acts, or if a certain act that she happens to like a good deal is involved, isn't that what you are saying?" I inquired further.

"Yes, that's a pretty good summation to what I've been saying. We've all reached crisis points in our lives. I don't know you that well, but if you think back, you can certainly recall periods when you were at the cross roads."

"We all can," I nodded.

"That's precisely what I mean. I'm trying to offer some encouragement and guidance to girls that might get caught in a bad dilemma. I mean, maybe they aren't compulsive cocksuckers like I was, but have some kind of a hang-up. Maybe they just can't say no to a guy, and they're on the verge of becoming nymphomaniacs or something. Well, they've got to learn to turn back, say no, before it's too late. That's the point that I'm trying to emphasize."

She stated her position well, and it is fortunate that Patricia L. was able to face up to her situation in time, before, as she said, the dire state of emergency arose.

A penetrating documentary study was done by Courtney V. Devereux entitled "Oral Sex."

In the course of that work, he interviewed a number of men and women who were strongly attracted in one form or another to orality.

In the case of Patricia, she learned before it was too late just the kind of danger she was involving herself in.

But Devereux cites the case of Joan E., in which he quotes her accordingly:

"Most of these poor married broads don't know the first thing about the science of cocksucking. I'm talking about the rare ones that are daring enough to do it with their sweeties. They think that all they've got to do is to stick a cock in their mouth, bob their head up and down a few times on it, and it will pop in some magic formula. Yeah, they're that naive.

"I got so good at it that I was always getting calls, all the way through school. I got to be a real favorite with the fraternity boys. They would take up a big collection to pay for my services for an entire night, then I'd go over and suck them off one by one, until their prick was so droopy they couldn't get it up to save their lives. One night I took on twenty-five guys and left them all satisfied. That really gave me a thrill.

"Different guys want their cocks sucked in different ways, and the same guy wants it sucked in different ways in different-times. If a guy is good and hot he wants to pump up and down the rod real quick, so he can shoot those rocks. If he he's hot, but not quite as anxious, I'll give him a better overall job. I'll take longer and massage his balls, stick my finger up his asshole to give him added sensations, pump up and down in slow, more rhythmic beat.

"I did a lot of systematic ball licking as well. I mean, I've got an instinct for knowing when a guy's balls are hot and bothered and he wants to lick on his ball bag. Sometimes they ask me to lick their balls, and sometimes they don't, but I can usually tell they are ready for it. Many times, when this happens, I'll take things into my own hands.

"When I graduated from college, I moved back to the city, dying my hair a different shade and changing my name, just not taking any chances. Many people take professional names these days, so nobody thought anything of it when I took one. If they only knew the motivation!"

Joan E. also recognized the stigma attached to the kind of widespread promiscuity in which she had involved herself.

Devereux explained the following relative to oral sex in the intelligently developed introduction to "Oral Sex":

"With sex now engaged in for pleasure purposes by an experiment-minded modern generation, unshackled from the bonds of the past, it is un-deratandable that variations can now be explored.

"Oral sex, undiscussed by the traditionalists, is picking up enormous popularity in the United States today, particularly among the young. Regarding sex as pleasure, and their bodies as vehicles for erotic stimulation and satisfaction, the young have experimented widely and discovered that orality can have a highly rewarding place in their erotic life.

"Depictions of oral sex are manifest all around us. Graphic art featuring this mode of expression abound on newsstands from coast to coast, while motion pictures, underground and major productions alike, emphasize the 'licking' aspect of sex.

"The provocative and popular feature film productions, 'The Killing of Sister George', was spiced by a cunnilingus episode which undoubtedly aided its overall box office success. 'Charlie Bubbles', featuring British film great Albert Finney, also contained a provocative oral sex interlude.

"Explicit oral contact exists to an even greater degree in the underground circuit, going considerably further in the graphic sense.

"'When I think of these unenlightened married couples living together for years who would throw up over the prospect of going down on each other, I don't know whether to laugh or cry,' a sophisticated young professional man revealed to me with a grin. 'If they'd only get off this absurd guilt kick and recognize sex as it should be, a means of providing pleasure, they'd be surprised at all the "good sucking" they could give each other."

"Thanks in part to the greater emphasis today on orality, many of these 'unenlightened married couples' of whom the young professional man spoke, have suddenly seen the light. Married couples are experimenting to a greater degree than ever before, and are, on the whole, pleased with the results.

"'Since Brad and I threw away our guilt and started doing everything, including a lot or oral practices that we both thought were evil and vile one time, our marriage has become happier and we've drawn closer together,' an attractive suburban housewife and mother of three candidly informed us."

A common ground must be found, however, between the puritanism of old and the kind of promiscuity that can produce damaging results, as exemplified in the case of Patricia L.

Devereux later related in the introduction related to that point:

"Many of the 'The Sex Lickers' in their anxiety to enjoy sex to the fullest, don't know where to stop. Often, when they reach this point, they want to confide their stories to some one else. In some instances, those were the cirumstances under which I entered the picture. In most instances, fetish or no fetish. The Sex Lickers' lived by the current 'tell it like it is' credo and defend what they're doing."

Extremism in sex is practice to be avoided with the same degree of caution as excess puritanism, which will prevent a man or a woman from realizing the true measure of happiness in a sexual relationship.

The theme of lesbianism, so prominent in terms of today's sex scene, surfaces in Case Five.

The interesting story of Valerie D. is in some respects akin to that of Glenda W., who was involved in lesbianism in Case Three.

In the case of Valerie, however, her fling did not come as the very young girl, such as Glenda, who had her big lesbian affair in college.

CASE FIVE

Valerie R. was an attractive redhead who came to me wearing a very glum expression.

The psychiatrist who had examined her had called me up and gone over her case history slightly with me, informing me that she was getting into periods of great sadness.

I couldn't help but think of Glenda W., and wondered just how the case of Valerie would compare with that of Glenda.

At first Valerie was very cautious about what she said. She had two cups of coffee and smoked two cigarettes before she finally worked into conversation.

Following is Valerie's story:

I didn't really fall in love until I met Bert.

He was a cute young cop on the San Francisco Police Force. I met him one evening on a blind date, the only blind date that I had ever had that produced a worthwhile result.

We found that we hit it off beautifully from the very beginning, and the longer we talked the more we found what we had in common.

We began going together regularly and I had a very strong hunch that it would only be a matter of time before he proposed to me.

Bert was a real gentleman, the finest I have ever known. He handled himself beautifully on and off the job and won the total respect of his fellow police officers along with people he helped on his beat.

Even though I knew he was strongly attracted to me, he didn't make any overtures toward me for sex purposes for quite a while. He respected me, and I liked that about him.

Several times earlier in my life, I had turned off of particular men because they had become prematurely demanding in what they expected of me.

Well, one thing led to another with Bert, and finally he proposed to me. It was the happiest day of my life when we were married.

After a honeymoon in Las Vegas, we set up housekeeping in a tiny but very nice little apartment in the heart of San Francisco.

We were very happy. Things just couldn't have been any brighter than they were during the two years of our marriage.

Then something awful happened. Bert was gunned down by a bank robber as he was attempting to prevent a heist.

He was a hero, earning a medal posthumously for his valorous deeds as he walked into that bank and took on all four of the gunmen.

He managed to fatally wound two of them, wing a third, and was about ready to set his sights on the fourth when the man shot him.

I was so crushed I didn't know what to do. For several weeks I just laid around the apartment and did nothing but cry.

A very nice priest from the local parish who had been a good friend of Bert came and consoled me. He told me that it just wasn't right for a beautiful young girl like me to waste my life crying over something that couldn't be changed. He told me that Bert would be the first person to agree with that.

The priest revealed that Burt had told him many times that the thing he was most concerned about was my happiness. That being the case, the priest concluded, he would not want to have me mopping around the apartment when I should be going out and living.

That was a whole lot easier said than done. I'm the type of person who loves very hard when I do give my heart away. It isn't often that I do, but in those particular instances, my love means everything to me.

But I knew what the priest was driving at, and I couldn't help but agree with his philosophy. We are put on this earth to live, and I felt that he was right in saying that I had to do something to shake away the feelings of despair.

So I went to an employment office the next day and tried to locate a job.

I obtained one as a secretary, in a huge office surrounded by a lot of hungry single men.

I didn't like their attitudes about sex. They would stand around the water cooler and exchange dirty jokes, then turn their eyes loose ogling all the young girls. Oh, they ogled me & good deal, but I wasn't all that interested in ogling back. And as a matter-of-fact, the whole thing disgusted me. They were acting pretty sick, as far as I was concerned. The kind of man I admired was somebody like Bert, and unfortunately he was gone.

I was pretty convinced as time went on that Bert was the only man for me. I really didn't think that there were any men around quite like him.

I was miserable on my job, even though I was making pretty good money on it.

I started getting depressed just being around San Francisco. So much of it reminded me of Bert. The little men that ran the shops, they would wave to me, and I knew that they were waving to Bert as well as me. They couldn't forget him.

I was corresponding a good deal with my sister Marty, who lived in Hollywood. She seemed genuinely sympathetic to my problem. She had been able to empathize with me, as she had had a recent tragedy in her life as well.

I lost the man I loved through a tragic death, while her marriage came to an end via the divorce route. She explained in several letters just how unfaithful her husband was. He wanted to have it both ways-to retain his marital situation with her, while also carrying on as freely as any single man would have dared.

She finally invited me to come out and stay with her in her apartment in Hollywood. She explained that it was a very spacious place, and that it was really too big for one person to begin with.

She listed the reasons why I should leave San Francisco. I had told her about all the sad memories that would return whenever I would see one of those friendly faces of those shopkeepers that knew Bert, so she told me that a change of environment would no doubt do me a world of good.

She also explained that she could get me a job working at the same company she was employed by. It was a production company that was active in both motion pictures and television. I've got to admit that the nature of the work sounded somewhat challenging to me.

I answered her letter, telling her that I would move in with her in about a month. It would take me that long to put my affairs in order and provide my boss, who had been very nice to me, with sufficient notice so that he could find somebody to replace me.

I remember the tears that were in my eyes when I got on that plane that took me from Sari Francisco to Los Angeles. As the jet hovered over the City by the Bay that I was saying goodbye to, I thought one last time about Bert. Maybe somehow I could put those sad memories behind me when I went to a new city .

I must say that I hardly recognized Marty when she arrived to meet me at the airport. She had her hair bleached a stunning blonde color, and she looked very good in the green pantsuit she was wearing.

Marty was three years older than I was, and when I had been a very young girl she had been like a big sister to me.

Now I was back with her again, and I had a rather comfortable feeling as I got into her Oldsmobile and we drove into Hollywood.

"You're looking great, honey," she said to me.

"You're looking pretty good yourself, Marty."

"Well, I have a challenging job and it keeps me occupied," she smiled. "I sincerely hope that you can get in there too. I've put in a good word for you to my boss."

"that's great."

"As a matter-of-fact, would you feel like being interviewed tomorrow?"

"I believe so."

"That's good. He would like to talk to you."

The following day I went to talk to Marty's boss. He was a very kind, heavy set man in his middle fifties. His operation was very successful, and he said that he could stand to employ at least one more girl at that point to take care of the business overflow.

I got the job, so Marty and I were working at the same place.

I gradually started coming out of the dumps now. I liked the beautiful apartment that we shared, which was in the Hollywood Hills, overlooking the bright lights of the city. I liked the view, and Marty was as kind and considerate as a sister could be.

Something was happening, however, that I thought a little strange. I couldn't exactly put my finger on it, but I wondered why she had so many young girlfriends who would be around the apartment at various times.

I would come home and find her talking with one and sometimes two. Then they would often leave and go out to drink at a bar.

As for my sex life, it was nonexistent at that point, and I wasn't really all that concerned. I was still very much hung up on my dead husband, and I wondered if I would ever get to the point where I'd want anybody else. Indeed, if a man that I was genuinely attracted to had come along just then, I probably would have been afraid to even have a relationship with him. I would have been extremely fearful about what would transpire if I ever let my heart go. I kept thinking about Bert and how hung up I was on him. It really crushed me then when he died, since I had wrapped up my entire life around that handsome guy.

One evening Marty suggested that we go out and have dinner on the Sunset Strip.

She took me to a quaint little sidewalk cafe where we had a nice full course meal.

"I think it's about time that you saw the night life," she smiled. "How'd you like to go to a few of the Sunset Strip night clubs?"

"Oh, I don't know," I said. "I've never been much when it comes to night life. I guess you could say that I'm something of a square."

"You're nothing of the kind," she shot back emphatically. "I think that it would do you good. You don't have to tell me. I know that you're still nursing a crush on that poor husband of yours. You're carrying a torch for him. I can recognize it. It happened to me once in my life, but I got a divorce. My husband is still alive. Your poor husband is gone. You're going to have to get away from him, honey. Time will help you, but you've got to fight it. That's the only way that I was able to forget about mine. I just told myself that was it."

"That was quite a lecture, Marty. O.K., I get your point. I think you're right. Let's go out. I'll let you take me to some of these places."

"Now you're talking, honey," Marty smiled. "Just listen to your older sister."

"I guess I always have," I nodded.

"Yes, you've been a pretty good girl."

We made the rounds of the Sunset Strip night clubs. I had a little more to drink than I was generally accustomed to but still didn't drink to the same degree that Marty did.

Marty really liked to tie into the sauce. That was one thing about her that disconcerted me a little bit. I was a little afraid that maybe she liked it just too much. And those girls that she would go with, they tended to drink quite a bit too.

But then I got to thinking that this was Hollywood, and that was the way it was with so many people who lived there. At least, as far as what I had heard was concerned.

Now I was a little bit on the soused side. No really so bad, mind you, but bad enough to where I could feel it a little. I feel a tremendously uninhibited side of me coming to the surface as I began to laugh and joke with my sister. It was about the first time that I had genuinely cut loose since my husband had died.

It made me feel good to be able to laugh again with my sister. It brought back all those fond memories of girlhood.

Once we got back to the apartment, Marty immediately began to take off her dress.

As she stripped down to her panties and bra, she looked very attractive. Her figure was so firm and full. She looked very lovely.

"Hey, what are you doing?" I asked.

"I just feel like taking my clothes off, darling," she chuckled. "I'm going to fix myself a drink. How about you joining me?"

"No, I think I've had plenty for today," I laughed. "You're going to get me real drunk if you keep it up."

"And what's wrong with that?" she chuckled.

"Have yourself a little fun. Let yourself go."

She fixed herself a screwdriver, which she carried out into the living room.

She sprawled out there on the rug, sipping the vodka and orange juice. Then she suddenly jumped to her feet.

"I feel so inhibited with clothes on," she chuckled. "Even the underwear is inhibiting. I want to take my panties and bra off."

She then went to work on her bra, quickly removing it. She then systematically slipped those panties down her legs, stepping out of them.

I couldn't get over why she was being so bold and to take off her clothes in front of me.

"Why don't you join me?" she said. "I've found, dear, that one of the best things a girl can do to feel real good and relax is to take off all her clothes. I recommend it very highly."

"The whole thing sounds like a crazy idea to me," I chuckled, a little nervously.

"Don't you believe it for a second," she said. "Come on, honey, you've got a beautiful body and I'd like to see it, nude."

"It sounds like you're getting horny for me," I laughed.

"Why don't you just take off those clothes, darling? I guarantee you that it will make you feel better. Clothes can be so inhibiting. Just take them off."

I had had just enough drinks to where I was willing to follow through with her suggestion. I'll tell you something, if I hadn't have been at the point where I was, from the drinks that I had had, you can be certain that I would never would have ever done such a thing. I would have considered it just plain stupid. But now I had had the booze, so I was ready to tackle just about anything and everything.

I slipped out of my skirt, then my blouse.

She was watching me ever so closely, lying sprawled out there on the living room rug as she finished sipping her drink.

Just as I had gotten down to my panties and bra, she took her empty glass and carried it with her into the kitchen.

She walked back out and was smiling at me in a way that I had never seen her smile before. It was kind of a sensuous smile, and I couldn't get over it.

She continued staring at me as I took off my panties. Suddenly I was beginning to wonder just why she was so fascinated at the prospect of seeing me naked. Just maybe, I thought, even though I was very naive, she was interested in looking at me for some sex reasons.

Even though I was willing to consider that point, I never thought that she was considering anything more than just looking. I would have flipped at the prospect of her anticipating any more than just a peek.

Once I had removed my panties and bra, I stood there in the middle of the room.

"Come on over here and stretch out beside me, dear," she said.

At that point I did begin to think there was something a little funny, but I went ahead and did what she asked anyway.

Then the next thing I knew she was reaching out with her right hand and running her fingers ever so skillfully and smoothly over my breasts.

"Oh, I like fingering you there," she said. "Those are such nice, firm breasts. I really love touching you, darling, it really feels so good."

Those fingers kept on working magically, applying themselves with systematic grace as she kept on working her fingers over my breasts.

She then leaned forward, letting her long red tongue slip inside my mouth.

Back and forth she worked that tongue around inside my mouth. The tongues began to clash and as she continued to run her fingers over my breasts ever so swiftly and smoothly. My entire body began to quiver with great excitement.

She was really excited, and the longer that her tongue collided with mine and the faster that her fingers went to work over my breasts, the greater the degree of enthusiasm that I began to feel.

I was beginning to wonder what was wrong with me. I was really enjoying the sensations which she was providing for me.

She was a very attractive girl, and the fact that she was my sister apparently had nothing to do with it, as far as providing me with sensations was concerned. She could be my sister and I could still get turned on with her easily enough.

Soon I was improvising on my own. I was reaching out with the fingers of both hands and letting them go to work on her buttocks.

She had a nicely constructed rear end, and every time that I allowed those fingers to probe against her asscheeks, I became that much more excited.

She kept up the Frenching for a long time, driving me into an exhilirated state of passionate desire.

She knew just how to get me turned on, and she kept up the tongue action for quite some time, then released her tongue from my mouth.

Now she began to put that tongue of hers to work against my breasts. I felt like I was on fire now between my legs as she kept up that breast friction, letting her tongue slide over my breasts and nipples, alternating the stroking back and forth.

I was so turned on by then that my whole body was trembling. She knew just how to control the action, getting me to the very point that she wanted me.

When she felt that she had me in the state of excitement that she wanted me, she released her tongue from my breasts.

She let that tongue swoop down swiftly between my legs. She let it maneuver ever so slowly over my hot mound, which was already a little moist from the excitement that she had been providing for me with the French kissing and the breast licking.

I just lay there with my legs spread, watching as that skilled tongue of hers went to work ever so slowly, covering every hot crevice of my burning snatch.

"Oh, that feels so good," I gasped. "Darling, you're so good, oh, I love that. I love those strokes. Oh, do I ever love that stroking action. It's so good, darling, so good, I love the way your tongue is working."

I must admit that the drinks were wearing on my very heavily at that point. If they hadn't been, you can be sure that I would be experiencing a number of hang-ups relative to what was going on. After all, this was something completely new to me. I had never experienced a lesbian act, to begin with, and this really made it novel, since I was getting my baptismal fire from my own sister.

That tongue kept on working, and the longer she kept it up, the faster she put it to work.

Now she was really letting it go to work, driving it at an enthusiastic clip over my hot mound.

Back and forth she let it slide. Now the tempo was really beginning to accelerate as she let that tongue fly with enthusiastic grace over my hot snatch.

"Oh, keep the tongue going, oh, don't let up, move it quickly, baby, I love, it," I said. "Oh, that feels so good, it feels so wonderful, oh, it feels so great."

Those were the same kinds of words that I would have provided in the way of encouragement of Bert back in the days when he was doing everything with me. He liked very much the idea of going down on that hot mound of mine, and now I had found somebody else who was highly capable in the area of providing me with vaginal stimulation.

Back and forth she was letting that tongue dart, and now she was pushing me toward the brink of climax.

"Oh, I want it, I want it," I gasped. "Come on and work that hot tongue. Work it around, baby, oh, I love it. I really like that action. Keep working that tongue around, darling. Oh, work it, keep working the tongue."

Now my legs were kicking with great exhiliration as she kept up those passionate movements, letting her tongue go to work in a blazing flurry of passionate excitement.

I knew I couldn't withstand it much more. She was really getting to me with those fantastic sucks, and now I knew that it would only be a short period of time before I would be exploding.

Suddenly my body began to convulse even more noticeably than it had been previously.

"Oh, I'm going, I'm going, I'm going," I gasped. "Come on and eat my load, baby, oh, eat my pussy juices."

She gobbled up every drop of juice from my mound, then removed her tongue from my snatch.

"I've got to fuck you again," she said.

She jumped up to her feet, then walked toward the bedroom.

"Stay right there," she said, "I'll be right back."

When she returned from the other room, I was startled to find her wearing a dildo. It was the first time I had ever ssen one of those things strapped to a girl's waist.

I was flabbergasted as I observed that huge classic phallus pointing out toward me..

"I've got to fuck you with this," she said in a masculine voice. "Get ready, honey, because your husband is going to cut loose on you."

When I heard that word husband, I absolutely flipped. Then I remembered something that I had seen somewhere. It was an article in a magazine, and it told about how very often women would assume the masculine role in sex with a female lover.

This was really something. This was my own sister, and now she was apparently thinking of me as her wife or something to that effect.

She moved the makeshift penis forward as she got down on her knees.

"I'm going to part these beautiful legs, darling, and then I'm going to screw you," she said, "I'm really going to drill you. with this cock of mine. I'm going to drill you real good, baby."

She reached out and let her fingers grab hold of my thighs. She clutched those thighs ever so vigorously, driving that makeshift penis into me with everything that she had.

Back and forth she was sliding that dildo, letting it enter me to the hilt.

Soon she was plunging it in all the way, driving it with passionate enthusiasm high inside my mound.

"Oh, you're a great fuck, baby, you're great," she said. "You couldn't be better, darling. Oh, are you ever good. Do I ever love sliding this prick around inside you. You are a good girl, honey, and I love to kiss you. Oh, am I ever going to kiss you."

As she kept on pummeling me with that makeshift dick, driving it spiritedly inside my mound, she leaned forward and kissed my lips.

It was one of those lengthy kisses that really turned me on to no end. And while her lips were pressed eagerly against mine, she kept on with that fantastic action, driving that huge makeshift cock of hers deep inside my mound.

She kept that up for what would seem like an eternity, after which she released her lips from mine and the plastic penis from my mound.

"Wasn't that a great fuck?" she asked, sinking.

"You really know how to wield that thing. I've never seen one of those before."

"It's a dildo, baby. I guess by now you've figured out that I'm a lesbian."

"I'm a little shocked."

"I got fed up with men after Mike. There are too many of them around just like him. I don't need those heartbreaks. Besides, I found out that I have a lot more in common with another woman than I do with a man, anyway. Who needs those damned bastards? I mean, I'm perfectly satisfied having sex with a beautiful girl. And now that you're here, well, it's just too good to be true."

She walked back into the bedroom, putting the dildo away.

She then came walking back into the living room as I was still lying there on my back.

"Now I wish you would go down on me," she said.

"Remember, I'm a rank amateur at this."

"Everybody is when they start," she chuckled. "Oh, I was a rank amateur at it once too. But I got pretty good at it, didn't I?"

"I should say that you did," I nodded. "You really gave me a good suck."

"O.K., that can work two ways," she exclaimed. "I would like to get a fantastic suck from you. I'll guide you along, baby, just stick that tongue of yours down there inside my mound. Better yet, why don't you kiss my muff a few times. I'll just lie there and you can kiss my pussy and after you've done that a few times, I'll just guarantee that you're going to get good and hot. Then you're going to want to find out what it's like to get down there and lick it, and once you find out just how much fun you can have going down on me, darling, you're really going to love it. I guarantee you that you'll love it."

She made it sound so exciting to me that I was willing to give it a try.

She got down on the rug, lying on her back.

She was highly alluring as she lay there, so I leaned forward and pushed my lips against her muff.

She trembled so noticeably, so I thought that she was going out of her mind when those lips of mine first pressed against that mound of hers.

"Oh, honey, I love that," she said. "Now put the tongue to work, baby. Come on and let the tongue go to work on my mound, I need that kind of beautiful action, sweetheart. Come on and work that tongue, work it good and fast. I need you to lick me down there. Oh, I need your sucking, baby, you can do it, you can make me feel so good, just work that tongue around, darling, work it around real fast."

Now I was letting the tongue go to work inside her mound. I started out at a slow, steady pace, trying to get the hang of it.

"That's it, take your time," she said. "Just let things develop as they will. Start out slowly, honey, then let it build. Just let nature take its own course, darling. Oh, now you're doing beautifully, oh, are you ever doing beautifully. Now you're speeding it up a little. Oh, you're going gradually, but you are now picking up the pace. It's a beautiful pace you're setting, honey. I like what you're doing. Oh, do I ever like it. Oh, work that tongue, darling, oh, work it. I like that action. Come on and work that tongue, honey, oh, work it, oh, that's great, it's so great, I like the action. Oh, plunge that tongue around there, oh, I want it, I want it."

Now she was alive with excitement. She was gasping and sputtering as I kept up that fantastic sucking.

Now I was just as turned on as she was. I was enjoying giving her the pleasures every bit as much as she was enjoying getting it.

"Keep it up, keep up that fantastic pace," she exclaimed. "Come on and suck it, darling, oh, suck it, work that tongue, darling, oh, do I ever love it. Oh, work the tongue, baby, oh, work it fast. I want it, oh, I need it, work it quickly, baby, oh, work it quickly. Oh, keep going down on me, darling, oh, keep that tongue sliding, oh, I want you to keep it sliding baby, keep it going, keep the tongue working, baby."

Now I was playing with her asscheeks as I kept on letting that tongue of mine pursue her in a vigorous fashion.

"O.K., move your index finger into my asshole," she commanded sharply. "Come on, baby, let that right index finger go to work That will excite my ass. Oh, I would just love that, baby, I'll love feeling that sensation. Come on and play with my asshole. Come on and finger that asshole of mine while my pussy is being sucked. Oh, you are just too great to believe, baby, you are a natural. To think that is the first time you're doing this. Oh, keep it up, I can't praise you enough, darling, keep up those tongue movements, oh, I want it, Oh, do I ever want it."

Now she was trembling like crazy as I kept up that hot fervent action.

It made me feel good to be praised by her in such a lavish manner.

She was enjoying what I was doing for her, and I was more than happy to keep up that spirited sucking for her.

"Oh, suck it, suck it, suck that mound," she said. "Oh, I'm just about ready to go, darling, oh, am I ever ready to shoot."

A few seconds later the pussy juice shot out of her mound and into my mouth. It was a tremendous experience to sample her load in my mouth. It made me feel very good. Now I felt that I had accomplished about everything that could be accomplished in the way of female sex.

Needless to say that proved the start of a good relationship in my life. I not only got as intimately acquainted with my beautiful sister as I could, I also became acquainted with her many friends.

I would circulate with her in the lesbian bars in Hollywood, and it was really a great adventure. We would pick up the loveliest young girls, and bring them back to the apartment, where we would have some fantastic orgies.

Now I think that my life is on a pretty even keel. Who the hell needs men? I mean, I'm having fun doing things with my sister and the other girls that I meet.

Well, I must admit there are times when I wonder if my life isn't a little bit on the hollow side. I do see some attractive men at the office every now and then who ask me out to dinner with them,' I always tell them the same thing-that I'm busy. They'll ask a few times, then they'll give up. About that time they realize it isn't a case of being too busy, they recognize that it is a case of me simple not wanting to go go with them, for whatever reason.

I often wonder if I ever will go out with them again. When I'm having some hot sex with another girl, I think to myself that there is no reason for me ever to be with men again. But then I get to thinking some more, and the longer that I think about these matters, the more I come to the conclusion that maybe this great life that appears to be wonderful on the surface could be on the hollow side.

I don't know. I'm pretty confused about things at the moment. Right now a lot of things about life don't seem to make a good deal of sense to me.

I can't really say where things are going to end up.

I do know one thing, though, I do make round of the bars to often. I have taken to drinking a little too much, and lately I've really begun to feel like I'm in the midst of a rat race.

O.K., I know that my conversation sounds like I'm split down the middle. Of course it does. It sounds that way because that's just about where I am. But I can't let Marty know just how dejected I feel so much of the time.-I know that girl. She would consider it to be a personal slam. She would think that it was her fault that I wasn't feeling more contented.

It's very difficult to figure your way out of a dilemma like this. I just don't know what I'm going to do. I just realize one thing, that it isn't going to be an easy situation to extricate myself from.

SUMMARY

Valerie R, is a victim of her keen devotion to her sister.

Her sister could have helped her out of the doldrums. Instead, she was responsible for implanting Valerie into the same kind of tragic setup in which she was involved.

When she saw how lovely and vulnerable her younger sister was, she took advantage of the opportunity and exploited her for sexual purposes.

Now lovely young Valerie is in the torrents of a dilemma. She does not know quite to cope with the tragic situation that confronts her.

The psychiatrist who examined Valerie explained part of the situation as follows:

"Poor Valerie doesn't want to face up to the fact that it's either or as far as her relations with her sister is concerned. She wants to believe that she can enjoy a relationship with her sister devoid of sex, but I can't see where that could be possible, now that she has committed herself this far."

Valerie appreciates what her sister had done for her as a young girl. She protected her then, and she was naturally inclined to go back to somebody like Marty when she needed some consolation in the period of great trial and tribulation.

But instead of getting the kind of assistance she needed, she instead was pushed into lesbianism when she was in a vulnerable state.

At the outset of the relationship, Valerie was quite impressed, since her sister was able to provide her with sexual stimulation. It was only after weighing matters in detail that she began to understand the enormous consequences of what was occurring.

Relative to the bodily pleasures that one may receive through lesbianism, Masters asserts the following with regard to sexual response:

"It is customary to forget, or not to know, in all of the acts commonly encountered among male and female homosexuals, the pleasures derived are quite understandable on a natural physiological basis alone. In other words, the body parts usually involved in homosexual contacts-mouth and anus (along with penis and female genetalia, as in heterosexual contacts)-are often or usually sensitive erotically in both hetereosexuals and homosexuals; on a strictly physiological level there is no reason to regard sexual pleasure derived from the contacts involving these parts as unnatural, perverted, or in any way unexpected. There is a mystery connected with sexual use of mouth and anus, and essential pleasure derived from such use, and what is mysterious is that the uses and pleasures are not a commonplace aspect of all human sexual relationships."

Fortunately, Valerie's situation was not such that she reached the same jaded position that was occupied by Marty.

She knows enough to realize just how warped and perverted it is for her to just continue to carry on with a procession of women. She is beginning to recognize what she is missing in her relationships with the opposite sex. Now that the hurts attached to the loss of Bert are departing from her, she is beginning to wonder what it would be like to marry again.

Courtney Devereux, in his book, "Oral Sex" relates a tragic situation involving a beautiful girl by the name of Penny, who totally succumbed to lesbianism.

Penny's view point became as warped and one-sided as that of Marty. He quotes Penny accordingly:

"Who needs a cock? I sure as hell don't. I'm too busy having a blast with beautiful licking sensations. That's how two girls enjoy each other. Sure, a guy can give a girl's muff a workout with his tongue the same as a girl can, but not with the same degree of sensitivity and understanding. After all, I've had my pussy a long time and know a lot about how to use it and what makes it feel good better than any guy could.

"I really got a sex education that glorious weekend from the sex syren (her girlfriend). We covered all the circuits, enjoying some beautiful sixty-nine. We'd trade off, with her being on top half of the time and me part of the time. That way we were both happy.

"She taught me a lot of new games that I really came to enjoy. One beautiful maneuver was rubbing our clits together, letting our bodies sway and twist as we matched each other, stroke for stroke. We'd rub snatches together and create all kinds of fire until we shot.

"That was fun, but my preference from that time on has been straight sucking. Nothing can beat sixty-nining with a good looking chick, some chick with a trim body."

In the case of Penny, it would be far more difficult for her to reverse her lifestyle than it would somebody like Valerie.

One has to desire change before such change can be brought about.

The psychiatrist who talked to Valerie decided upon one course of action, which he related to me:

"I told her that she was just going to have to leave her sister. I didn't see any other way out. She would have to assert her position and tell her sister that she would not be participating in that again. I told her that the only way to make a fresh start, was to break clean."

Fortunately for Valerie, she worked up the nerve to tell her sister that she wanted to abandon the kind of lifestyle that she was leading.

At first Marty found it very difficult to accept Valerie's pronouncement, but eventually she had to.

Now Valerie is dating men, and, even though she has not yet found anyone to replace Bert, it is quite likely that eventually she will marry hopefully lead a happy life.

The important thing to recall in Valerie's case was that she was willing to confront a situation head-on. When she abided by what the psychiatrist suggested, things picked up in her life. But it was Valerie who had to assert herself, and if she had not done so, she would today be wallowing in the same kind of semi-gloom that was a part of her at the time that she talked with me.

It is exceedingly gratifying to observe a girl like Valerie being put on the right track. It shows that with a little understanding and some asser-tiveness on the part of the individual involved, changes cna be brought to bear for the better.

The five case histories covered in this book all involve people who were caught in a tragic state of affairs.

What separated the ones who survived from those who continued to sit in the same pattern was a willingness to take the bull by the horns and act in an affirmative fashion.

That is the principal lesson to be learned from a book such as this.

There is also another lesson to be learned as well, one that flows sequentially from the one alluded to above. That is, that people should attempt to be understanding toward individuals whose plight and cases they do not understand.

The kind of understanding that the psychiatrists were willing to bring to bear in the cases of perplexed people like Valerie, Glenda, and Kurt, ultimately aided those people in at least being able to determine where they stood in life.

In closing, I would like to thank those professional men of dedication for cooperating with me in this pursuit.

Through our joint efforts, we were able to bring an important message home to a number of readers-that it is important to study a problem in detail before commenting on it.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

"Variations In Sexual Behavior," by Dr. Frank S.Caprio, Grove Press, Inc., New York, 1955.

"Forbidden Sexual Behavior and Morality," by R.E.L. Masters, The Julian Press, Inc., New York, 1962.

"The American Sexual Tragedy," by Albert Ellis, Lyle Stuart, New York, 1962.

"Sex Without Guilt," by Albert Ellis, Lyle Stuart, New York, 1958.

"Oral Sex," by Courtney V. Devereux, Venice Publishing Corporation, Van Nuys, Calif., 1971.

"The Mother-Son Sin," by Gil Lyons, Valley Circle Publishing Inc., North Hollywood, Calif., 1972.

"Older Women Who Prefer Young Boys," by Gil Lyons, Valley Circle Publishing Inc., North Hollywood, Calif., 1972.

"Daddy's Girl: A Study of Incest," by E. Barnes, Valley Circle Publishing Inc., North Hollywood, Calif., 1972.

'Adults Who Molest Minors," by Marvin Brady, Valley Circle Publishing Inc., North Hollywood, Calif., 1972.

Incest In The Black Ghetto," by Spencer Washington, Copley Square Press, North Hollywood, Calif., 1972.

THE END
The Incest Generation ....(66k)    by Andre Roberts





~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~







.....9856 home .....9858








---

	"Double for Nothing!! Tricks for Free!!!"™ A MrDouble Production: mrdouble

Page Design Copyright � 1998-2011, Mr Double, ALL Rights Reserved    
Stories Copyright respective authors.