Incest is, of course, an ancient and almost universal taboo. Anthropological research and psychological writing before and after Freud would indicate that the "patterns of incest," as R.E.L. Masters puts it, would not change even if other sexual and social mores were relaxed.
Though it is difficult to approach the problem of incest statistically (certainly the taboo is still great enough that subjects would be far less candid than they would in a general sex survey), the cases presented in this volume may indicate a subtle and gradual lessening of the repression of incestuous instincts.
Swapping, unlike other sexual situations, indicates will and decision on the part of those participating. It removes sex from the instinctual level. Once tampered with, "natural" and "universal" instincts may be disturbed far beyond the expectations of the swappers. In the case histories that follow, incest has been the result-the logical result of the decision to swap, to make the family unit flexible. But will is not always subject to desire, as Freud notes in Totem and Taboo:
Taboo conscience is probably the earliest form in which the phenomenon of conscience is met with. For what is 'conscience'? On the evidence of language it is related to that of which one is "most certainly conscious.' Indeed, in some languages the words for 'conscience' and 'conscious' can scarcely be distinguished-Conscience is the internal perception of the rejection of a particular wish operating within us. The stress, however, is on the fact that this rejection has no need to appeal to anything else for support, that it is quite 'certain of itself.' ... Thus it seems probable that conscience arose on a basis of emotional ambivalence....
Writes S. Kirson Weinberg in Incest Behavior, a study of deviance written several decades after Freud's work on incest:
The insights which are most pertinent to this problem have been perceived by Freud. Freud viewed psychosexual development as integrally related to personality development. He recognized that the developing individual had to deflect his sexual desires from family members to persons outside the family. Freud and his followers dealt with these desires in terms of inhibited fantasies and dreams, and not in terms of overt behavior. As is apparent, people who have stray fantasies of incest differ markedly from persons who act out these fantasies. Thus Kinsey found that many males during their younger years, thought of the possibilities of sexual relations' with their sisters or mothers but that these fantasies were clearly rejected as modes of behavior....
These five case histories deal with family members who did not reject that behavior. In a permissive society, it is easier to succumb to a deviate urge than in a restrictive culture, and these men and women are the victims, then, of freedom.
-Kyle McCambridge Reno, Nevada
CHAPTER ONE
Incest in Large Families
"My father died when I was three, and my brother was four. I was the youngest girl in the family, and Harry was the youngest boy. Dick was ten, and Marlene was seven. It was a pretty tough load for mom to handle, and even with the Social Security benefits, she had to work as a bookkeeper. Dad had been an alcoholic, and I suspect that her first experience with marriage discouraged her from trying again. Dad had always been in such a stupor that his influence had not been great, and so we did not 'miss' a man's hand, and I think the absence of a strong masculine influence was one of the reasons things turned out as badly for us as they eventually did.
"Harry and I were extraordinarily close, much closer than brother and sister usually are at that age; in the normal case, of course, the sibling rivalry is intense, and brothers are usually embarrassed by their sisters, just as they are embarrassed by most girls close to their own age.
"Harry was always the aggressor, sexually speaking. He made me 'do it' as a test of my sisterly love for him. The first time we made love, though, was when he was fourteen and I thirteen. I guess I wanted to do it then, too, but it was Harry who was. so incredibly horny he forced me, his own sister, to have intercourse with him! But it was a little kids' kind of experimentation. We were both doing it for kicks, and we both knew we were doing something wrong, even something evil. But it wasn't passion-at that age we were not even aware of the emotion in us-but curiosity. It was three years later that we came to incest out of a sexual craving for each other, and the first time had made it easier for us to slip into it.
"Had we not had that one incident when we were too young to restrain ourselves, there never would have been the traumatic affair when I was sixteen and Harry seventeen.
"Another complication was that we kids had the same bedroom, so that mom could have a room of her own. There were four bunk beds, and though the room was a big one, it wasn't that big. Children probably shouldn't live in quarters that close-children of both sexes, that is. From the time we were small, we were all running around naked in front of each other, but when I got to be thirteen, I started to be embarrassed.
"Marlene was embarrassed as well, and she took refuge in the bathroom. I was lazier, and my feelings of modesty must not have been that strong when I was that age. After all, my breasts had developed hardly more than a boy's, and my hips were just a small swelling below the small of my back.
"It was summer, and Marlene and Dick both had jobs. Dick was a clerk at the supermarket, and Marlene was working in the five-and-ten in the city. Harry and I were going to summer school, but that only took us till noon, and we had a lot of time on our hands in the afternoons.
"Harry, as I said, was fourteen, and he was just past puberty. All he wanted to talk about was sex, and I being his sister, was the only girl he could get to talk about it with him.
"This constant talk got me excited, too. He would bring home paperback marriage manuals from the store-he would shoplift them, because the guy at the drugstore wouldn't sell them to a fourteen-year-old, and anyway, Harry was too embarrassed. We would pore over them. That was how I found out a woman could satisfy herself with orgasm.
"Harry was dying to know how it felt for a woman. He tried to tell me how it was for him, when he masturbated. 'Listen,' he said, one day, 'do you want to do it?'
"I was scared. But we had, in the months before, stripped for each other, and I'd even let him touch my vagina once, with his finger. I'd let him poke the finger inside the hole, until it was painful and I cried out for him to stop. Another time he'd begged me to masturbate him. I finally agreed. He got a bunch of tissues from the box in the bathroom, and he put them on the floor beside the lower bunk of the bunk bed the boys shared across the room from Marlene's and mine. He didn't pull his pants down that time, but he just took his cock out through the folds of his cotton briefs and pulled at the skin until the rod was stiff and the skin was pulled back from the head.
"I sat on the edge of the bed, my thighs pressed against the wood. It was uncomfortable. He almost pushed me from the bed, because his legs were spread apart-naturally, I guess. I had seen it that big before, when we'd stripped for each other. But I'd never touched an erection. When I'd touched him, I took my hand away as soon as he started to get erect. And now I was supposed to beat him off!
"I straightened my arm. He started to arrange the fingers of my hand around the pole. He led me down the prick the first few times. Then he lay back on the bed, his eyes closed. He was breathing heavily. His chest, hidden by a sweater, rose and fell rapidly. "Tighter, tighter,' he sighed, and I squeezed the phallus that much harder, until I thought it would discolor under the pressure.
"The sounds coming from my brother's throat surprised me. I didn't know what an orgasm could sound like. But the spurts of come, out of the slit and onto the back of my hand, making my skin wet and sticky at the same time, did not, because I'd been prepared for that by the marriage manuals we read surreptitiously. He cleaned me up, drying the come off my fingers and off his denim trousers with the facial tissues.
"The day I masturbated for the first time, we both lay down on the floor. Harry didn't take his T-shirt off, but he did remove his jeans and his underpants, and he said I would need to as well.
"My pubic hair was still sparse, being recent, and I was almost embarrassed by it, though Harry was wildly proud of his. He also had what I realize now is a big penis for a boy that age, maybe six inches long when it was hard and stiff.
"'Remember,' he said, looking up at the ceiling. 'You don't have to stick your finger inside yourself. You just have to roll your fingertip on top of the clitoris.' I stroked myself with my forefinger until I found the damned thing. My touch made it burn, and at first I wasn't sure I liked the sensation. I was curious enough to repeat it exactly the same way, and by the fourth or fifth stroke I knew I really dug it.
"My brother was watching my naked twat all the time I was doing it to myself. His breathing had got loud and fast fairly quick, and I was still going at it fairly methodically when he stopped-later he explained to me he'd stopped so he wouldn't come before he could watch me climax.
"I doubled my finger over and pressed down hard with the knuckle, until the vaginal moisture leaked out to the surface of the walls and I had this delirious tickle all through my stomach and groin. I heard myself breathing in a way I'd never breathed before, even when running and playing at school. I spread some of the moist film that seeped to the surface of the cleft over the clit and the lips.
"I was wearing a jersey top, and though I had small breasts, I had on a bra. I pressed the palm of my hand to the cup, and the tit went diamond-hard. My wrist rubbed the areola under the starchy hoop while my fingers twisted and turned and tried to grab and remold the whole flattish breast.
"My right hand, the one I was using to pump the clit, was tired, aching with the rush of blood as I turned and folded and opened my fingers. I brought it up to my waist and quickly pushed it under my top, while my other hand came down to work on the sopping pud. My right hand was greasy with vaginal dampness, and I dried the fingers by rubbing them into my nipple.
"I kept spreading my legs wider. I opened my eyes and saw that my brother's face was hovering just over mine. He was on his side, but his legs were still sprawled out, and his hand rested at his crotch, unmoving. The palm and his V-spread fingers covered most of his crotch hair.
"I knew I was coming when I started to push up on my hips and then slam my buttocks hard against the floor, so hard it was painful, but I couldn't stop myself! The lips of the cunt were spread open a bit and, despite all the things I'd read in the marriage manuals, I wanted to stuff my hole with something. I stuck my two fingers inside; the pain was intense, and I couldn't fit them too far, but it was beautifully exciting. The wet walls vibrated under the bones, and I kept on coming for another thirty seconds.
"After the ice had been broken, Harry and I couldn't get enough of this 'show-and-tell sex-play. Every day, after we'd get home from school, we headed straight for the bedroom. I began to get a kick out of undressing for Harry, when the newness of our other thrills sort of wore off. I would take the top off, then my shoes and skirt and stockings, if I was wearing them, and I'd stand there for a full minute or so in my panties and unnecessary brassiere, while my brother stood or sat panting, unable to urge me on, because his heart was in his mouth, and his sense of time was distorted by my near-nudity.
"Then I would go up to him, turn my back, and ask him to unhook the strap. We had retreated a bit, and now that we were both masturbating, we didn't jerk each other off-or, rather, I no longer jerked him off, because he had never done it to me. So he was careful not to touch me, even though I sort of raised my arms as he undid the underwear, so that he could see the slope of my childish jugs from the side as they drooped out onto my chest. I'd walk back to where I'd begun the charade, my rear to him, and then I'd turn around, safely out of reach, and massage my tits until they were hard with satisfaction.
"At long last, I would move my hand over my midriff and then, pausing-if I were wearing half-panties, as I usually did-to trace the line of my curving pelvic bones, I would pull on the elastic waistband of the underpants until he could see the rim of copper-colored cunt-hair. I bent down, and when I did, my small breasts seemed larger, though the childish layer of baby fat at my stomach was more obvious.
"Only then would I kneel to the floor, lie on my back, and start to manipulate myself until my cunt was clammy with the odor of salty sweat. Harry would follow quickly, and usually he couldn't restrain himself, so he would often come way before I'd finished giving myself an orgasm. If he were lying close enough to me, the jism would splash on my stomach or my hand, and sometimes I would rub the cream over the folds of the vagina, until I read in a confession magazine that you can get pregnant even if the come doesn't appear to be going inside the hole, like when you dry-hump.
"Children get bored easily, and adolescents faster still. Once I found that I could give myself pleasure, the only question I could ask was how to give myself more pleasure, and more intense gratification. Harry was always suggesting that I beat him off-never, however, did he ask me to let him touch me, because he was afraid-and, finally, much to his surprise, I relented.
"Like the sex queen I was beginning to think I was, I ordered him to sit in a straight-backed wooden chair in the middle of the bedroom. All of his clothes were off; we had both masturbated to climax once that afternoon, and his pubic hair was still musty with the sweet odor of dried come. I put out my hand, and his cock, already hard, began to leak juice from the slit after one hard pull on the skin. He looked hungrily at my vagina, and though I had planned on it, I acted as if I were doing him a big favor.
"'Okay. This once,' I said.
"His fingers were stiff and inexpressive. He held two to the skin around the clitoral button, and I shifted my pelvis to get him right on target. Tentatively, he began to bend the fingers and stroke the blister. I spread my limbs wider, straddled on my own chair, and he prodded slivers of flesh, already moist from my self-administered orgasm a few minutes before. After a dozen or so wiping fingertip strokes over the surface of the button, he slipped down through the weave of flesh and hair and just barely into the crack. My left hand, which had been inactive at my side, reached to the side of the pussy and held the folds apart for him. He twisted his fingers inside the orifice, and I drooled through the tissue, my stomach doing flip-flops and my heartbeat doubling. He moved a bit forward into the cunt, and one of my fingers stroked the clitoris-more skillfully than his had, because I'd had more practice, I guess.
"My right hand became tired, and I stretched my fingers out and ran my palm over the dome for a second to rest. This spread open the mouth of the cock, and a bit of the sperm came out in the center of my palm. I rubbed it back into the surface of the meat and poked below the shaft for his balls, which seemed to grow larger as I pinched and gently scratched the scrotum.
"Exercising my ingenuity, I pressed my palm, sweating now, over his stomach, speckled with coarse dark hairs of short length. I went lower and jammed the mesh of pubic bone work, and he groaned as he ground his ass into the seat of the chair. I started once more to jack him off, but I had the idea of changing hands.
"My other hand smelled of me, and it was wet with my oils. I held it around the cock for a moment, real tight, and then I started to go up and down the dork, careful to hit the exposed glans on my way up. I felt the wetness spread from the inside of my grip to the skin of his penis. 'See,' I whispered teasingly, 'it's as though you were fucking me.'(This excited him so much that two strokes later he' came off in my hand, and the goo flew with such force that my stomach was splattered with the white stuff.
"I don't know whether I really meant it when I had told him, 'Just this time.' I just remember saying it, and I can't be sure what was in my mind at the moment. I do know that when I saw all that semen come out of his head, and heard Harry breathing-arid even moaning the way he did as soon as my hand touched his thing, I was-well, flattered, I guess. It gave me this incredible thrill of power.
"Our first step toward actual incestuous intercourse was oral intercourse. It was Harry who offered to suck me off, and he did so several times before I agreed to blow' him.
"I lay on the bottom. bunk, my legs spread apart. He had his palms drilled to the insides of my thighs, and his lips rolled against my twat lips. His tongue came from between his teeth like a soft pink snake, drenched in saliva. He searched with its tip for my clit, and when he came to it, almost hidden by the bush-hair, I said, sighing, There!' surprising myself with the violence of the exclamation.
"So he started, to roll his tongue over the puffy bump. He covered his front teeth with his lip and then bore down on the rising. His tongue circled the clitoris, and I had to moan before he would satisfy me with another wet stroke, applied harder now than at first.
"He ran the flat of his forefinger down the cut, pressing in just a little, but not separating the flaps wide enough for the finger-bone to fall in. Then several of the fingers gathered up the puckered folds and squeezed them together, totally obscuring the orifice.
"I reached down for his hand and brought the fingers to the source, all but shoving him in. The explorations of my cunt had grown less painful as time wore on, what with the walls being stretched and exercised. Now he could almost send the fingers their full length up the canal. Meanwhile, he swiped his tongue almost petulantly through the hair, side to side, until the button was like a huge pimple. I could hear him almost snort each time he inhaled, breathing in the smell of my cunt.
"My walls strained to admit him even further up the tract, and I was gooey with cunt lubrication. His tongue drifted from my clitoris, and he went lower, removing his fingers, to stick it between the patchwork of labia. He wagged it from side to side and licked thirstily at the first inch or so of the tissue inside the hole.
"His breath rustled my hair as he exhaled. poking the edgy clit with his finger. I rolled my groin under his mouth and touch, and I started to come. He was frantic to keep up with me with his tongue, and he plunged into it, also forcing his fingers so far and so hard up my twat that he drew a small amount of blood. I didn't notice that until later, because now I was coming, smashing my ass into the floor and raising my legs in time to the rhythm of the waves that were moving the walls of my hole apart!
"After that, I always wanted him to suck me, rather than jerk myself off or even have him masturbate me. Cunnilingus soaked me in ecstasy, and I could let myself go, writhing in a puddle of spit and cunt fluid!
"He knew the power he had over me, so he started to insist I return the favor by sucking him to orgasm. At first I didn't want to. I thought I would choke on his monster of a prick. Of course, it wasn't really that big, but I had nothing to compare it with, and it seemed rather a lot for my small mouth to handle. 'Aw, Susan,' he said, 'you'll only have to lick it. You don't have to take it into your mouth, and I won't make you swallow the come.'
"We'd both read about the 'sixty-nine' position, and we lay down on the floor. Harry was on top of me. He was on his knees, and his face was tight against my crotch. I felt him lick the splinter, and I got so hot at once I was distracted from the job my mouth had to do, until I saw a single fat drop of semen push out from the slash in the head of his phallus. I held the shaft as though I were going to jack him off, but I used the grip to bend him toward my lips. His body was curved like a question mark above mine, so that I hardly felt any of his weight, just his balls on my nose.
"I ran my tongue up the flattened underside of the prick, stopping when I hit the purple line of the glans. When my tongue went even further, up the rounded dome, it seemed to have a life of its own on my tongue, like a floating drop of mercury that defies touching. Finally I swallowed it, just to get rid of it, but by that time another drop of the stuff had deposited itself on the dork's head, obscuring the cut that had allowed it outside.
"I forced the plank toward my lips and gave the side of the pole a shower of closemouthed kisses, all the time yanking at the covering skin. I separated my legs as far as I could, and then I bent them at the knees and tightened them around his shoulders and neck. I rubbed my naked ankles into his backbones, and that seemed to excite him almost as much as my first sucking motion on the cock, which made a loud slurping noise as I pulled in air along the line of the muscle I'd made wet with my tongue and the insides of my cheeks.
"My ass was half off the floor anyway, what with my locking him between my thighs, and it was a simple matter for him to squeeze the flesh there with his bending fingers, scraping the skin with his fingernails, raw from constant chewing.
"His fingers found the middle path between the two humps, but I forced the anal alley closed by pressing the halves of my butt together. I was too scared, and I'd not yet begun to think of my bung-hole as an erotic zone.
"I felt the features of his whole face running up and down my beaver, smashing the slickened skin of the pussy and rethreading the pubic wig with his flagging, flailing tongue. I tried to keep up with the speed of his mouth but largely failed, as I drilled the tip of my tongue into the flattened underside of the shaft and grated the edges of my front teeth against the rounded part of the tube. I had two or three inches of the cock inside my mouth, and I was going above and beyond the call of the duty I'd been assigned, because I was excited. Excited by his mouth, working more frenetically than ever on my vagina because I was exciting him toward climax, and because my own lips tingled each time I rolled them across the rigid penis.
"I kept on pulling the skin down the length of the erection, and then more slowly bringing it back again, to cover the glans before I wrenched it toward the base once more. Harry shoved the bulk down an inch more in my mouth, toward my throat, and I would have choked-or so I thought-had I not put an end to his progress by a strong bite. He retreated, and, to soothe the punishment I'd given him, I curled my tongue like a blanket around the sausage.
"I ran the pecker between my teeth and moist lip. He was playing my thighs with his fingertips, and I imitated him, scratching my nails against the flesh of his upper legs, lined with short, coarse hay-s. He took his mouth away from me and rubbed his hand against my damp pubis, which felt raw when he stroked it with his dry skin. The friction was intense, and I pumped my hips wildly and tried to stuff all of the hair and all my cunt skin between his teeth, so he could roll his tongue all over me. He drove the soft stake between the lips of my twat and I writhed as he tasted the seeping fluid off the walls, which sprang open and then shut quickly. I pulled at his ear as I came, and he groaned in pain and tried to wrench his head away from me, but then he started to climax, and waves of the steaming come exploded inside my mouth. My tongue waved against my cheeks and my palate, trying to block the hot goo from pulsing down my throat. I put both hands to the skin and hair around the cock's base and pushed him out of me, so that he spewed on my cheeks and neck.
"We continued sucking each other off on a fairly regular basis after that. The last step, of course, was intercourse, but that did not come so easily. It was almost like an absence of passion that kept us both from fucking, because we could get our rocks off this way and still not actually be committing incest.
"We were in the sixty-nine position. I felt his blood spurting through his prick. I had the scrotum folded between my fingers, and I was making the balls wiggle inside the bag. His tongue was coating a warm glow on my cunt lips, and I was groaning, waiting for the completion I knew he would give me. But he pushed up on his hands, and his cock fled my mouth like a piston bobbing in an engine. A strand of premature jism still stretched from my lip to his slit as he moved away from me.
"I guess you could say that technically his fucking me was a rape, but it didn't feel like one. The next thing I knew he was on top of me. He was skillful, without showing any more than the usual excitement, and, in fact, his breathing was more controlled than it usually was at this stage of our oral lovemaking. He must have been planning this a long time, I thought to myself.
"I felt the head of his prick lodge against the greasy, spit-smeared folds of my vagina. I was so soft and so oily there that, before I could exert any effort to repel him with my genital muscles, he was halfway inside of me, and my lining clamped around the cock as it stroked forward to fill me. All of his weight rested on me. I was scared, scared of the pain-I still had my hymen at that point, and I immediately started to bleed-and scared I would get pregnant.
"I clawed at his naked shoulders and biceps with my fingernails. I tried to pull my pelvis from under him, to squirm out from under his body, but I succeeded only in grinding the lining of my cunt against the skin of his penis.
"His eyes were shut, but his mouth was half open. I bit down on his lower lip, and he yelped as he pulled his mouth away, and this time he struck me so hard with his phallus that I thought my cunt walls would rain blood forever. After that, I wasn't going to fight any more. I let him ride me, and slowly, through the haze of the pain that filled my box, I started to enjoy the thrusts. A tingle passed all along the tissue. I reached for his cock, so I could squeeze the base with my fingers, but he bent them back, afraid I was going to hurt him, I guess. But soon my moaning convinced him I was digging it, so he went to my crotch and started to buzz my clitoris with the surface of his forefinger.
"Finally he began to kiss me on the lips. His tongue passed over them, then stroked the tip of my own tongue, which came forward to meet it as it crept inside. I got sloppy, and my tongue moved over his face, down his chin, smashing wetly about his cheeks, as I tried then to stuff his ear inside my mouth.
"The slow ache began to diffuse through my body just as the pleasure of his friction concentrated itself into the center of my pussy. 'Fuck ... fuck ... fuck. I recited the word as in a dream, and at last I began to shout to him, 'Fuck me, fuck me, FUCK ME!' and he drove his dick home inside of me, smashing my walls, pouring the steam into me until I locked my legs around his and began to vibrate with my own bloody orgasm.
"Despite the pleasure of that first intercourse, the idea of actually having coitus with my brother was traumatic. Because he had started by 'raping' me, it was even more traumatic for him. He was filled with guilt.
"'We can't do this any more, Susan,' he said, and I agreed wholeheartedly. He was crying, and he was still inside me, his penis beginning to wilt inside the damp fleshy vise of my cunt.
"For weeks he couldn't look me in the eye. I was sexually frustrated; my appetite had been awakened, and now my partner was gone. I tried masturbating again, but that was unsatisfying. I started being promiscuous, arid my 'supply' of sex was restored.
"Over the next few years, Harry's sexual interests turned elsewhere, too. But we, after the first difficult period of guilt, retained our initial closeness, now sealed together even tighter because of our secret.
"By the time I was sixteen, I had realized there was a serious problem about the way I approached sex. I could only separate sex and affection; there was no way for me to relate sexually to the men I liked, and no way to relate to the men I slept with but sexually. And I slept with everyone! I even let myself be picked up by women, a couple of times, but that made no difference.
"I realized the same thing had happened to Harry. He was as miserably unhappy as I was. We began to realize that this had something to do with our first sexual experiences with each other. We began to spend more and more time with each other. Because sex had proved so unsatisfying, we retreated finally even from other sexual relationships. Gradually, I realized, we were 'in love' with each other. When we would be with other people, even Marlene and Dick, we were in a world of strangers, and we could find solace only in ourselves.
"Harry had taken up hunting, and though I hated it, when he suggested I go with him and several of his friends for a weekend in the mountains, camping, I felt compelled to go along, being afraid of what a few days without him would be like.
"We even put our sleeping bags away a bit from the campsite at night, so we could talk after the others had gone to sleep. Several guys were there with their girl friends, and occasionally there was the sound of groaning, gasping couplings in the distant background.
"I forget why I had started to cry; maybe it had something to do with one of the animals killed that day, maybe not, because I was so wrought up at that time that it didn't take much to set me off.
"He drew closer to comfort me. His lips kissed the teardrops dry as they fell from my eyes to my cheeks.
"This time I was the aggressor, though I was hardly conscious of anything. It was pure will at work, and in the next moment I was holding, on to him for dear life, wrenching him, kissing him with my tongue sweeping through his mouth, over the surfaces of his teeth. He put his hands to the crotch of my jeans only after I had pulled open the metal buttons of his denims and was scratching his cock madly. It was huge, much bigger than I had remembered it. I wanted it so badly the walls of my pussy filled with heavy vaginal fluid. I kept hold of the prick while I pulled my own pants open and then thrust my buttocks off the ground so that I could drag the garment and undergarment down to expose my pubis.
"Harry, reluctant till then, helped me when he realized how much I wanted him. And, oh, did he want me! Just my touch, my hand folded around his throbbing pecker, made him spurt a few drops of cream from the slit. And as soon as the head touched the labial folds, he came, jamming the thing inside me so that half the climax poured down through the tangled cunt-hair and the other half shot up my vagina to my womb, glutting me.
"When he had creamed inside me, I sighed, for it was like a great relief. All of the other sex I had gone through was just a search for the intimacy I had had with my brother. No wonder I had not been satisfied! A great burden had been taken off my shoulders.
"We made love five times that night, and after that, we had no secrets from each other. We were lovers, but of course we had to keep it a secret from our family and from everyone. Being brother and sister, though, was an easy cover.
"Harry had a full-time job, just out of high school, and he moved from home into his own small apartment. I was in my senior year at high school, and naturally I spent a disproportionate time with him there. No one suspected a thing, at least at first.
"When, at the end of the year, I was going to move away from home and live out on my own. Dick and Marlene had long since moved out, and mom, though she protested, was grateful for the peace, quiet, and privacy that my absence would give her at long last-I suggested that I would get an apartment with Harry. Mother, who worried about my 'virtue,' was delighted at the idea, sure that my older brother would be almost a surrogate father in the matter of my protection.
"It was Marlene who first suspected. She lived nearby, and she would visit often. Once, just walking about the house after a shower, while Harry was sitting in the living room, I went to the door and peeked through the keyhole. I wanted to see who it was before I made my brother answer the door. I had been looking forward to a Saturday afternoon filled with lovemaking. Seeing that it was Marlene, I opened the door and stepped behind it until she was in the apartment. Then I casually disclosed my nudity, thinking nothing of it. I knew that she did think something of it when her disapproving glance shot to Harry, reading, and then back to me. Harry was unperturbed.
"It was near to the time I had moved in, and there was still only one large bed in the bedroom. I explained to her I was having trouble with my back, and that we were waiting until we could find a good, cheap bed. Another unbelieving stare.
"A few days later, we did get a bed, and when Marlene next came to visit, with Dick, the worst happened. They came early in the morning, and Marlene eyed the beds in the bedroom. Only one of the twins had been slept in! Since I was in my bedclothes, and Harry had gone out for some groceries, I quickly made up a story about his having spent the night at his girl friend's. I had to corner him at the door and whisper to him that he go along with anything I said, and Marlene and Dick-or at least Dick-were assuaged.
Mom started dropping hints, soon after Marlene did. We were too close-it was 'unhealthy,' and it would prevent us from having other relationships. It would keep me from having boyfriends, she told me-me. who wanted sex only with Harry!
"It was a Sunday afternoon. Harry and I were making love on the living room floor, our naked flesh tossing and turning on the stacks of Sunday newspaper. He was fingering me, and he was kneading my breasts, making my tits hard. I was almost ready to come, and I knew Harry would have kept finger-fucking me, rather than coming inside me with his prick, because he wanted to save it. The first night we'd made love five times, but usually Harry was good for two, or at most three, orgasms a day.
"Marlene knocked once on the door. Impatient, I guess, she turned the doorknob. We had forgotten to lock it the night before! She walked in, just as Harry pumped my quim with his squirming fingers, and I moaned for him to do it to me faster and harder.
"My eyes were closed, but her glance met Harry's instantly. Her mouth, he said, fell open. An anguished groan escaped her throat, and she turned on her heels. In one motion, Harry rose from me, his finger sliding out of my hole, the muscles of which closed together in a single spasm as he withdrew and tried to follow her. He grabbed my nightie and wrapped it around his waist as he ran down the hall, chasing Marlene.
"I felt such a violent pain in my groin that I filled the gap he had left with my own fingers and jammed out an orgasm in a quick, steady rhythm, until I was rasping with the excitement of it.
"I couldn't let myself lie on the floor and relax in the pleasant aftermath of coming. I sat forward, then stood up, my head reeling from the sensations still left in my body and the awful fear of facing Marlene, for I knew I would have to, eventually. I went into the bedroom and got dressed. In the other room, I heard the door open. I heard both their voices; Harry had succeeded in bringing Marlene back."
Certainly the problem of brother-sister incest is one of the more common ones in the area of pathological sexual behavior. "In the sibling relationship," notes Weinberg in Incest Behavior, "the sister may be as devoted to the brother as he is to her and as sexually aggressive in the relationship. One pair of siblings ... left their spouses and lived together."
In that same book, Weinberg deals with the very important notion of exposure of the incest situation, which in the current case-study leads to swapping.
In general, sibling incest does not disturb the family members as does the father-daughter type. The mother, especially, is less disturbed and agitated. Some mothers, though aroused, will not banish either sibling from the home. After reprimanding the sibling participants, she returns to her routine duties. ... When the brother is the aggressor and when the sister resists his advances, the family may banish him from the home. But his offense may be overlooked when the family depends upon him for support.
Again, this brings up the question of the relation of economic class to the incest situation, and the degree to which it is tolerated. In the three-year interim between the first incestuous intercourse of Harry and Susan, the family situation had changed somewhat, in that all four of the children were self-supporting, and could even "help out" the mother, whose expenses in any case were reduced.
The incest affair may also result in the sisters estrangement from the family. At any rate, the parent remains in conflict because the social gap between him and the sibling participants widens. The situation of Harry and Susan is complicated somewhat by the absence of the male parent.
What are we to make of this special circumstance? The girl, wanting a "father-figure," finds one so necessary, perhaps, that she employs her only slightly older brother for that psychic office. The brother, at a difficult age, just past puberty, "takes advantage" of his sister's needs to satisfy his own primitive and awakening sexuality.
Weinberg's observations lead us quite naturally to an investigation of the effects of the incest taboo in general. Sigmund Freud, in Totem and Taboo, writes of certain anthropological insights into the subject of guilt as it relates to a taboo:
The following account will bear witness to the terrible effect of touching by virtue of which a person, even though unintentionally, becomes active against his king or against what belongs to him. A chief of high rank and great holiness in New Zealand happened to leave the remains of his meal by the roadside. A young slave came along, a strong healthy fellow, who saw what was left and started to eat it. Hardly had he finished when a horrified spectator informed him of his offense in eating the meal of the chief. The man had been a strong, brave warrior, but as soon as he heard this he collapsed and was afflicted by terrible convulsions, from which he died towards sunset of the following day. A Maori woman ate a certain fruit and then learned that it came from a place on which there was a taboo. She cried out that the spirit of the chief she had thus offended would surely kill her. The incident occurred in the afternoon, and on the next day at twelve o'clock she was dead. The tinder box of a Maori chief once cost several persons their lives. The chief had lost it, and those who found it used it to light their pipes. When they learned whose property the tinder box was they all died of fright.
In his Patterns of Incest, R. E. L. Masters comments upon Freud's notion of self-punishment for the violation of taboo:
... Although the user may believe the gods or ancestral spirits to be the enforcers of the taboo, he unconsciously initiates within himself a process that is soon fatal. It is apparent that a somewhat similar process may be initiated within himself by the individual in our own culture who offends, consciously or unconsciously, against the incest prohibition....
... In such cases as Freud mentions ... self-punishment is almost immediately effected. While this may happen in our culture-possibly taking the form of a severe depression leading to suicide, a self-destructive accident or crime of violence not consciously related to the incest, or an abrupt plunge into psychosis-it surely does not happen so swiftly very often. The process of self-punishment is a gradual one, the neurosis building somewhat as a snowball builds, around the traumatic center, as the individual collects additional experiences with which, because of the initial wound and perhaps for other reasons, he is unable adequately (without further harm to himself) to deal. ... There is nothing essentially harmful about sexual intercourse with a close relative. The behavior is damaging, partly or entirely, because it is so strongly prohibited....
In the case of Harry and Susan, the stage of guilt had been endured once, when they were far less able to cope with it. Some of that agony, then, was dispeled in the period during which they lived together. Marlene's discovery of their incest, however, was to put them through a severe test, as the following narrative will demonstrate.
"I sank down onto the couch. My temptation, when I heard them, was to hide in a closet, but I knew that, though he probably wanted to shoulder the weight of Marlene's shock and displeasure and save me from it, I had to be there, to help him, to support him as we explained it to her.
"I was almost narcotized, it seemed. We kept shifting ground. To one volley of questions and accusations-Marlene was clearly in command-we would be on the defensive, and to the next we might respond with a peevish insolence, even perverse pride at what we had done. But, as I said, we hardly knew what we had been doing.
"It ended with our agreeing to get psychiatric help. Marlene went through the details for us and agreed not to tell mother or Dick. The psychiatrist suggested she come along on some of the sessions, and she did.
"We came to be closer as a family, and eventually Dick was brought in, too. We would have included mother in the family counseling but were afraid the shock and anxiety would be too much for her.
"The practical effects at first did not seem very great. Harry and I were still sharing the apartment. Our sexual bouts became less frequent, but they were still part of our life together. Guilt entered the picture more and more, and the wild abandon of just making passionate love to the person we loved more than anyone in the world was mitigated by the other considerations making themselves felt.
"We spent more time together as a family even when we weren't with the doctor. It was as if the family were drawing together to give Harry and me less time to be alone with each other.
"I'm sure that when incest is discovered in a family, there is a powerful pull exerted on the other members to give in to their own incestual impulses. You see, normally it is not even considered a possibility, and now it was more than that. Marlene grew more and more fascinated with the actual sexual act of the incest, and she quizzed me, in therapy sessions and out, about how it felt, how it happened, over and over. Dick was quiet and reserved, but for just that reason I suspected a new strangeness in his manner as he looked at my older sister, and especially as he looked at me.
"The dam broke first when Marlene began to have sex with Harry. One day he told me about it. It had happened the weekend before, and now he felt the guilt of 'unfaithfulness.' I didn't know what to feel, my head was so jumbled with conflicting emotions.
"What shocked me most of all was that Marlene seemed to really be in competition for possession of Harry's emotions. She was my rival. In the next week I tried to adjust, but I could no longer talk directly to her, even in therapy sessions. I couldn't look her in the eye. Worse yet, she knew that I knew.
"I'll never know for sure whether Dick was my victim, or I, his. He dropped by after work one day. Harry and Marlene had gone out. I had been crying, but I'd washed my face, and so my older brother couldn't tell.
"As we had become closer, paradoxically there was less to talk about. Or maybe it was just the sexual intensity that lurked below the surface of our dealings with each other. I sat on the floor near him, running my fingers across the mosaic tiles of our coffee table, while he sat back in a low wicker chair.
"I kept edging closer to him. His crotch was smelly with sweat, even under the fabric of his suit pants. I made the first move by seizing his zipper with my fingers. I looked up at him, and he started. I would have pulled the zipper open in one move were it not for the strange look he gave me then. It was unreadable.
"But after the first reaction, he was immobile, and even his facial expression did not change. I opened his fly and extricated his cock, hard as granite, from his boxer undershorts. I was on the floor already, but I came forward on my knees and bent the tool to my lips. My, tongue cleaned the glans of its salty coating of dried perspirations. My finger combed through the weave of his abundant dark pubic hair. His eyes were closed, and he was groaning from almost the first moment I took the prick inside my mouth. His hands grasped my small shoulders and squeezed them as he tried to force me forward to his crotch.
"My teeth ground at the sides of his tube. I was sucking madly. I wanted to see how quick I could make him come. He was shifting under me, trying to undress me. He played with my braless breasts under my top, squeezing them until the tits were hot and hard. Just before he came he pulled the cock from my mouth and splattered the stuff all over my face, hands, and neck.
"I let myself fall back on the floor. I pulled the jersey up so that he could see my boobs naked. His eyes widened. My nipples were still erect. I was breathing heavily, and the fleshy mounds wobbled on the surface of my chest. I opened my pants at the waist. I was wearing only the flimsiest of under things, and he could see the crotch hair as I spread my limbs out.
"Releasing his tie and nervously fumbling to unbutton his shirt, he followed me down to the floor. His mouth opened and he took all of one breast inside his mouth while his hand rolled over the other. I lifted my butt from the floor and pulled down my jeans and my underpants. His right hand moved to my damp privates, and he brushed the clit with his forefinger, scraping the labia with his fingernails before dipping into the cunt-hole. His fingers were so quick that they smeared the top of the hairy orifice as, on alternate strokes, they swept up to jam through me again.
"I squeezed and scratched his cock, which was like a soggy limp bird at first. It grew hard in several bursts of blood, slowly but surely, until it was as stiff and as big as it had been when I unzipped his pants.
"With reluctance I got out from under him. Still on the floor, I stretched my legs out and was naked in a flash. Less quickly, Dick removed his more complicated clothing, and I was waiting for him, my legs spread wide, ready for him to enter me, while he stripped.
"I had to move, and I was on my knees when he was finally ready to fuck me. His cock was standing at full attention. I spread my thighs apart and told him to lie down. I mounted the prick, holding the hole open wide while I writhed down the pole, thicker than my other brother's but not as long.
"I hadn't enjoyed sex this much since I had gone to the shrink with Harry. This was a new thrill, a new danger. The sordid 'evil' of the situation excited me. I was spending my wildest fantasies. Now nothing was denied to me. He was inside me. I smashed down and stretched the hole wider as his head pushed into my walls in turn. When he was inside of me I circled around him, while he was fully buried, until he started to let the warm fluid go inside of me.
"The heat of his come triggered my own orgasm. The jism was spurting out fast. I leaned back and rode up the pole, my twat-tissue loving every inch of the sweet ride. I pulled in on the muscles inside the hole and kept him with a grip that prolonged his coming long enough for me to last out my own satisfaction. My arms flailed wildly at my sides while he came. I felt sated. My breasts were bouncing, and my mouth was wide open. Each new breath of air hit my dry tongue like a storm wind. I rolled my pelvis forward and squeezed my own stomach with my fingernails as the last of the load filled my pit.
"In the days that followed, it became clear to all of us what was going on. The 'swapping' was realized, unofficially, though no one dared to bring it up for discussion in our therapy sessions.
"We had never all had sex in the same room until one night, later that month, when we were all over at Dick's for dinner. We started out the evening with a huge jug of wine, but by the end of the evening we had hit the harder stuff. Dick even produced some very heavy grass, and we started blowing that as well.
"Any inhibitions that might have saved us from the final degradation were absent. We were all on the long sectional couch. I was next to my oldest brother, and soon Marlene and Harry were huddled together in a corner.
"I had my head on Dick's lap. I could feel the pulsebeat of the blood in his prick against the back of my neck. His hand played lazily and drunkenly with my lips, my cheeks, my nose, the skin around my eyes, my ears. They moved down and stroked my breasts until the nipples stood out hard through the fabric of the blouse I wore.
"The loud breathing I heard signaled me that what I wanted so badly to do was now permitted. I turned my head over and pressed my lips to the outline of Dick's phallus. I licked the cloth that covered the organ, making him groan. I ran my teeth lightly over the ridge I knew to be the glans. I found his scrotum with my fingers, and the balls bobbed while I dove past them and pushed against the shaft hidden under the juice bag.
"It was Dick who unzipped himself, impatient that I not merely hint at fellatio, but actually blow him. My lips twisted dryly around the penis while my teeth grated against the ringed skin. I opened my mouth wide and laid his scrotum on my tongue. I clenched my fist round the prick and started to roll the skin up and down, squeezing the bulbous head and running the side of my finger along the sensitive glans.
"I stuffed the prick inside my mouth halfway down the long erection. Now I was wet, coating it with my saliva. Dick squirmed and rubbed his ass into the upholstery. He raised his legs and rested them, spread wide, on the coffee table, while I alternately jacked him off with my hand and licked him and sucked him with my tongue and mouth.
"I held on when I felt the veins strain with blood, forcing the cream out the dork's tip. I swallowed wave after wave of the sweet, starchy goo. I coughed when I removed my mouth from the prick, and my inner cheeks were wet and sticky with the semen. Some of it leaked from the corner of my mouth. Like a cat, I licked the rest of it that adhered to his organ, until he was shining with a thin veneer of spit.
"I bent the cock. It was still hard, even after he came. I stroked my neck with it, and I ran it against the underside of my chin. I had only to look down at the floor to see my brother and my older sister making it with each other. Harry was on top of Marlene. Her blouse was open, and her big jugs poured out. Her short skirt was crumpled and raised to her waist. Her panties had made their way to her ankles, and she was digging her fingernails into Harry's backside as he fucked her in the standard position. She Was gasping with each forward thrust, groaning with each false retreat of the muscle from inside her.
"Their bodies were a tangle of flesh, muscle, and bone. I could not restrain my jealousy when they began to come together, and my ears could not effectively blot out the sounds of their satisfied grunts and exclamations of pleasure as their bodies rolled down the incline of orgasm. Slowly their bodies came to a halt, but their lovemaking did not. It seemed to be softer now. Their hips no longer led, but followed instead. With him inside, she was trying to work toward a second orgasm, lead him with her.
"She tried to stick her finger up his asshole, and he struck forward into her with a pleased, deep sigh. She reached between her legs and played with his balls in their sac. He held her breasts in his hand, massaging them steadily.
"My view of this was interrupted by Dick, who lifted me up and then, standing, placed me down on the couch again. He proceeded to undress me completely, and then he took off his own clothing.
"He got over me, and his cock hesitated over my pussy. He took it in his hand, and then he ran it back and forth, from side to side, through my pubic hair. I reached down under his thigh and tested the inside of my cunt. I was wet; the walls were almost glued to each other with moisture. I pulled down on his board. At last he pushed inside of me, and I ground my stomach to his own.
"I stroked his naked buttocks with my open hands as he filled me and refilled me with his meat. I turned my head and saw Harry and Marlene build steadily, slowly but surely, to a second orgasm. I was jealous, but I was excited by the sight of their nude, contorting bodies. My guilt was not absolved, but it was being shared, by Dick and Marlene!
"There was a stroke that filled my pussy with a glut of jism, and the cock hit my walls so hard as it came down that it was like a sock in my stomach. I tried to keep up with Dick, but it was useless. Only when he was finally slowing down, most of his fluid spent, did I begin to come, and I had to push two fingers up his rectum to make him accelerate his pace as he fucked me.
"His hands scooped under my back as he lifted me, still glued to his prick, off the couch. He eased down to the floor beside Harry and Marlene. He pulled his prick from me. He stuck his hand between their bodies as Harry pushed up and almost out of Marlene. Harry came down, but Dick's hand was already reshaping Marlene's ample breast with his fingers. I half stood, half crouched behind Dick, my legs spread and my pelvis trying to move against his back. I had my fingers in my muff, teasing the clitoris, pulling it up and away from the raw, wet labial flesh. I put my finger to the rim of Harry's anal crack and followed the heat inside. I only got to roll the fingertip at the anal muscle before he started to buck wildly and deliver his seed into Marlene's cavity.
"Harry pushed up while some of his semen still dripped from the slit in his phallus head. He turned to me, then turned his head away. I followed him as he leaned back on the floor. I covered his mouth with wet, longing kisses. Skin rustling behind me told me that. Dick and Marlene were discovering each other's bodies. Wistfully, I stroked my brother's limp prong. I licked his nipple taut. 'I'm sorry, Susie,' he whispered contritely.
"I lay flat on the floor and tried to comfort him with soothing words and sighs. I watched without emotion as Marlene ducked her head between Dick's legs. He was sitting up, his limbs spread wide apart. She had her forearms under his thighs, and she licked her lips glossy before bending to take his dork into her mouth.
"He pumped forward steadily once her lips closed around the tool. He put his palms at his side and pushed up so that his butt left the rug, and he was deeper in toward her throat. He leaned back and locked his legs around her shoulders before he told her, his voice dry and harsh, to sit on him.
"She squatted, and the ends of the dark silky strands disappeared between his lips, and only occasionally did I see a flash of his quick-moving pink tongue, wiping the clitoral surface dry of her thin lubrication and replacing it with the moisture of saliva.
"When he stuck two fingers in her twat, she began to jump on the tiny twin stakes. Her breasts bounced as she filled herself with the bones and then rode up until they were almost out of the box. Then she slid down. It looked like she would come immediately, but my brother pushed her off, and then he pushed back on his feet, until she was even once more with his cock.
"He fit the tube in her with his hand, and she followed the steady jerks of his hips until she finally began to lead once more, her own breasts brushing against his flat chest as she climaxed.
"That was the last time any of us had sex with each other. Dick and Marlene, in the framework of the therapy sessions, had been playing "holier than thou' games with Harry and me. Now the blame was equal. Though we did not meet again as a family, all at once, for several months after, in the days that followed, in one-to-one conversations among ourselves, we decided it would do no good to rub our noses into what we'd done with further therapy, but just accept the fact that we had done it, and resolve to do it no more."
CHAPTER TWO
Lesbian Swap
"We got to the reservoir after climbing a couple of gates and straddling a waist-high fence. Despite all the 'no admittance' signs, there was no one there to disturb us. It was perfectly natural for two girls, in that heat, to dispense with the formality of bathing suits. Eustace was quick. She threw her clothing onto the ground as she walked toward the edge of the bank, and she jumped straight into the cold water. I was self-conscious, but when I realized she wasn't looking at me, I stripped fast enough.
"She was dog-paddling in the water. The color and shape of her body was distorted by the play of light and water. 'Come in,' she said. I made my way gingerly down a rock and set one foot in. Eustace splashed me, and we both laughed. I laughed so hard I fell forward into the water.
"I bobbed up and down and grabbed onto the rock for support. 'You have a beautiful body, Olivia,' she said to me without awkwardness. 'Thank you,' I said, more polite than demure. 'You're very beautiful,' I said, 'I've always thought that.' Somewhat perversely I added: 'Lyd and I both think so.'
"She was too sophisticated to break at my mention of her lover. She thrust her arms behind her and lifted herself up on the rock. Her legs were parted, and her pussy glinted with the sunlight that immediately began to dry it.
"'Now the sun feels good,' she hummed. She turned gracefully onto her stomach. I had grabbed on the rock to stay afloat. My hand was close to her breast as she lay there. My face was turned to her, my wet hair pulled straight back from my forehead. She leaned forward and kissed me. I closed my eyes, and the rays of sun beat down on my naked breasts through the water. Delicately she ran her tongue across the slope of my lower lip. The soft skin skipped and touched my teeth.
"Her hand reached into the water and retrieved a curved palm full of water which she rained on my shoulder, already dry under the scorching heat.
"As she stood, her breasts moved. They seemed more firm against her chest than mine were. The water temperature had hardened the dark tits. From beneath her, only my head out of water now, I could see the pink cunt flaps nearly buried under her thick, coarse pubic hair, as black as that which brushed against her neck and shoulders.
"Her dive was exquisite, balletic. She didn't seem to be doing it for me; it was as if I weren't there, and she weren't trying to impress, but only gratifying her own esthetic sense. I saw her bronzed minx body glitter through the filter of water as she cut under the surface and swam like a fish beneath it. She made an abbreviated figure eight and returned to the rock. My back touched the smooth stone as I watched her.
"I had expected her to push up to me, but instead she swam right for my nude crotch. I spread my legs, wondering how the mixture of swirling water and rushing tongue would feel against my beaver.
"She found my splinter of a clit and raised it to life with the movement of her puckering lips, then with the scrape of her tongue. I watched the air bubbles come to the surface as she opened her mouth and blew water into my opening, which she made wider, parting the cunt lips with a finger. The cold water wet the sides of the hole, and my own moisture exuded. I felt myself going hot and damp, and blood rushed in my stomach until I felt the whole world was centered at my pelvis.
"Her hands spread around the side of my body, and her fingertips drilled into my ass cheeks, while her thumbs pushed into the depression just inside my pelvic bones. Her face ran into and up my body as, holding on to me, she let herself rise up off the water.
"She was breathing hard, and her eyes were closed, but she didn't need to see me to feel me, to touch me. She grasped me around the shoulders. Our breasts collided and almost splashed each other. She took one of my breasts in her hand and pointed my rigid nipple into the larger brown circle of her own. Her ankles curled around the backs of my calves, and I tingled as she jammed her soggy bush of pubic hair into my own nest. Her hand moved under a thigh and one of the fingers poked inside my sheath, while the other separated the lips of her vulva. She thrust her stomach forward, closer, making me lose my breath.
"I felt, for all my lack of sexual experience, skillful, bold, daring. I put my mouth to her ear, drawing away the wet silk. I aimed my tongue tip at the lobe. She threw her head back and squeezed my upper arm until the flesh rubbed against the bone, and I knew I should continue. Only my tongue moved as I followed the spiral of tissue. She was breathing deep, deep and hard, from the moment I touched her ear with my mouth. I pulled my lip back and grated the edges of my teeth down the slick neck skin.
"The palm of her hand was hard against my twat. Her knuckles rolled teasingly over the labia and clit. Her thumb weaved through my hair, and she came forward to kiss me. Our tits rolled wetly into each other's. Eustace poked her tongue over mine, and I tasted the cool, clean water. I twisted my lips over her cheek. I reached for her breast, and I kneaded the flesh. The tip of the cone was sharp. I pressed it down into the billowing flesh, and Eustace laughed as she squirmed. She bowed her head a bit and kissed the back of my hand with her slow, lazy tongue, then led me by the wrist to her snatch.
"I stuck my finger in her crevice, and I marveled at how loose her box was. Mine was virgin-tight, and the walls had strained even with the suggestion of her finger-bone. She wiggled appealingly as the small stake entered her vagina. I flexed the finger, and my thumb tried to find her clitoris in her bush. The pimple was soft, fleshy, and enlarged. I tried to pull my finger from the twat and spread some of the heavy moisture from inside on the surface of the clit, but the water rinsed it from my fingertip as soon as I moved it from her hole.
"'Let's fuck,' Eustace said, and I could not tell whether her use of the word was playful or intentionally erotic. In either case she was in dead earnest. She did not look into my face to find the answer. She assumed it, and she lifted herself onto the rock and then ran naked, her butt swinging behind her, into a cluster of trees and grass a few yards away. The sun warmed my body as I ran to catch her.
"'I want to make love to you so bad, Olivia,' she said as I kneeled down. Her eyes were dreamy, and she sleepily thrust her arm, reaching for my breast. I let my soft body sink down over hers, but she wanted to be in the astride position, so she gently rolled me over on the smooth grass until she was on top of me.
"'I'm a virgin, Eustace,' I said. I was shy, and I'd hesitated telling her that. But I wanted her to know so that she was warned, in case I squealed in pain at her fingering me. 'I know, honey, I know,' she said, and I realized she was going down on me. She forced my legs further apart, and then she began to manipulate me with her mouth, first sucking me off, taking the strands of raw flesh between her lips and inhaling on them, then lashing them with her tongue until her spit replaced the tangy, sweaty lubricating liquid. I squeezed my walls together as she blew on the wet clit. Her forefinger was testing my cavity.
"'Oh ... ' I groaned in pleasure, because the preliminary friction on my clit had made me go wet inside, and she pulled at the skin, just far enough so that her tongue could push into my twat. She twisted the tongue and pressed each wall in turn. She smashed two fingertips inside me, to .the depth of the first knuckle, because I was so tight and the circumference of the hole so narrow.
"She started to move down my body. I spread my legs obligingly. I knew she wanted to tongue me. I lifted my butt from the ground and started to shove my pelvis into her face as she rubbed her chin into the small cleft. She found the clit in one stroke, and she blew at it as soon as she'd wet it with her saliva.
"She bent her head to the side, and then the rest of her body twisted until she had her pud a few inches from my mouth. She didn't want to force me to eat her, but I wanted to, so I wrapped my arms around her waist and drew her crotch to my lips, while my fingers twisted inside the ass muscle.
"I'd never been so close to a woman's genitals. The smell was heavier than my own scent, or so it seemed. As my fingers caressed her behind, I couldn't help but think of the boys I'd seen naked-not many, just three-and their hairy butts. Eustace was soft. Her lovemaking, too, was gentle.
"She stroked the insides of my legs with her fingertips, which just glided over the skin. Her breasts forced themselves against my stomach. Her tits were hard, and they got harder as she moved, twisting and thrusting her body this way and that with each new movement of my tongue. Saliva poured from the corners of my mouth, and my spit was dripping on her cunt. I put my finger between my lips and her pubic arch, and I rubbed the nub of clit-skin. I pressed my fingers into the labial flesh and pried apart the opening. The inside was all pink-and-shadow. 'Hmnn,' she giggled, 'that tickles,' when my nose fell into the crack and came out wet. I rubbed it dry on her pubic threads.
"As I got excited, I shoved the base of my skull into the earth beneath my head, as if to absorb the tension that raced up and down my spine in waves. As my tongue moved from the surface of the beaver, Eustace followed me down with grinding, pulsing hips. She clawed at the backs of my calves with her fingernails, and she started to stroke my heels with the tips of her fingers. I started to laugh, and even wet myself with a few drops of urine.
"I still held her ass cheek in one hand, but I started to rub myself with the other. I massaged my forehead, which was sweating under the sun, and my breasts, which were slick with perspiration, and my stomach, and the insides of my thighs, and I even ran the tip of the finger over her lips as she sucked me, coughing, spitting, pulling in on me with all the suction her mouth could exert. The noises were loud, like slush. Me, I just pressed my lips to the labia, and sometimes I tried to get my tongue as far inside her vagina as it would fit. The tongue got tired, it ached, and my throat was dry. I brought my hand to my stomach and forced my palm down, as if to drive some of the tingle in my belly down lower to my cunt, so that I could come....
"'How are you, babe?' asked Eustace conversationally. She'd turned her head, and her cheek was resting on my belly. My cunt missed the soothing strokes of her tongue; it was itching for the wet friction. Now she was running her fingers along the curve of my hips, lazily, but she was breathing hard, and her breasts moved rhythmically.
"'Oh,' I answered, trying to sound as blase as she, 'I'm fine, I am.' I didn't know what to do. She'd raised her crotch off my face, but it was moving just above me as if waiting to land. I raised my head off the ground and started to weld my tongue to the hair-covered surface.
"'No, no baby,' she said softly. 'Not in such a hurry. Slower. Slower.' She brought her knees up until they were even with my ankles, and then she sat up. Her legs were spread outside my own, which were stretched wide. I could see her ass cheeks divide, and I could almost see the sphincter. Below the parting, I could see a tuft of thick dark hair.
"She sank down on me until her bums squashed against my nipples. She reached behind her and shoved my breasts in toward each other, then rubbed the tits against her ass. She tilted her body to one side, and my nipple moved between the hillocks. The heat was like more summer air, and the nipple was hard.
"Her hands massaged me. They were gentle at first, and it was almost as though I were being prepared for bed. I felt sleepy as her hands deftly worked my belly, my midriff, the hollows of my thighs. Only the thumbs hooked in and grazed the bushy triangle, and they just touched the top of the muff and didn't rub the hair back into the skin. Though she'd not touched me there for a couple of minutes, the walls of the box separated and as quickly closed again. I dug my fingernails into the ground beside my thighs, and I raised my ass from my bed of grass. I rolled my stomach up, and she granted me the favor of a cunt massage. Then she weaved through the hair to find the lips of the twat, which she separated and then rolled tighter, then separated again, so that the virgin hole was looser and wetter. I was sweating inside, and I didn't know how to explain the feeling. None of the pimply young boys I'd known in London could do this to me-if they could have, I'm sure I'd have fucked them royally!
"I began to stroke the length of her spine. I pushed a pocket of sweet flab against her hip bone, and she squealed her delight. I knew what she meant now when she'd told me to go slower. It was nicer this way; sweeter, and it made the pleasure last. She was thin, and her spine was stark as it jutted from her olive-tan skin. I jammed my thumbs into the spaces between shoulder and collarbone, and her head twisted like a pleased cat's. Like a feline, too, she rubbed her cheek against her shoulder. She whispered-though there was no reason to whisper where we were, it seemed part of our lovemaking-for me to give her my hand to kiss.
"She was starting to finger me hard. She held one side of the vagina, while her finger dipped in as she made the hole wider. Without thinking I brought my thighs together. I loved the friction. 'No, don't, baby,' she said, 'it makes it harder.' I brought the legs apart. My cunt was still damp from her mouth, and the walls were being coated with impatient lubrication.
"You know the way children stick their fingers into the corners of their mouths, clowning, and stretch their lips? Her fingers held me open that way now. Only the flats of the fingertips touched the soggy walls, but I hurt as she held me open like that. I was sighing, breathing hard, but I must have also whimpered at the intense pain, because her voice was like a clock alarm that breaks a dream in two.
"'Am I hurting you?' 'No,' I lied, realizing instantly I wanted the pleasure enough to withstand the pain she was making me endure. 'Poor baby,' she cooed indulgently, 'It will be easier later, after the first time.'
"I lay back and admired the shape of her rear. Her ass cheeks were distorted, her bottom made a flat line as she rested it on my stomach. Experimentally, I stuck my finger between the buttocks and stroked the terrain of the rectal muscles. They were like tiny ropes bound together. I pushed the end of my finger inside. They strained, but I got inside her. It was like another world inside the hellhole. She was hot and dry inside, and the lining of the bung seemed to pucker to expel my joint. I wiggled, and Eustace shook her hips in a spasm of response.
"Slowly, carefully, as not to hurt my hand as I fingered her there, she lowered her body until her coccyx rubbed against my chest. She kicked out her legs, and she held her weight on her elbows, as we both rested, looking up. My face was buried in her hair, which smelled of water, sunlight, and perspiration-even the perspiration smelled new, fresh, natural and clean.
"I licked her neck. I could feel her butt tense and the cheeks clench together, and a shiver passed down her spine, while her breasts started to heave. She began to writhe, and she slithered down until her ass was rolling on the blades of pubic hair. Her hand reached under her, and she began to massage my cunt again, until I was wet as ever.
"And as frantic as ever that she continue. The excitement in my body paradoxically made me more passive. It was as though I had too much energy to do anything with it. I just knew that if her hands flowed inside and through my body, my every nerve would vibrate in response, until all of me would be throbbing beat after beat of orgasm, that it would be perfect.
"I couldn't do anything but stick my pelvis up into the air, seemingly so far out of joint that the maneuver was impossible. My shoulders shook, and I closed my eyes, waiting for her to envelop me with her hands, with her lips, with a thousand tongues she'd stored somewhere for the occasion. My eyelids clamped shut, and I knew that her body had raised itself off mine-I no longer felt her weight-and that she was moving. I ached for her to touch me again.
"She was on me. Her knees jutted into the side of my body. She was astride me, yet her ass backed up into the air, as though she were on all fours. She took my hand by the wrist, but she did not lead me to her woman. 'Please,' was all she said, and I knew what she wanted, and I only doubted that I could manipulate her as well as she could me.
"She groaned as soon as my fingertips touched her clit, and she ground her hips when two fingers moved down to invade the hole itself. I rolled my palm over the whole beaver, and the two fingers that had just been inside her were caught inside her converging buttocks when she clamped them together in response to the friction.
"Only her wrist touched my upper arm, but it was a gesture, not force, and I lifted it as though being crucified, not really sure what she wanted me to do. First I felt her breath on the sensitive underarm skin. I felt a twinge of embarrassment that I'd not shaved the armpit in a week, and I knew I was sweating so hard I must smell heavily of sweat. But her tongue crept from between her lips, and she started to lick me. At first she was gentle. The saliva cooled the perspiration. She nuzzled her nose against the damp skin. She grabbed the flesh between her teeth, and I gasped. She blew on it. But mostly it was her tongue, sweeping madly inside that small circle of skin and damp flesh. I hadn't ever thought the armpit could be an erogenous zone, but this was driving me wild.
"I put three and then four fingers inside her cunt, and she was thrusting her hips back and out, pumping her pelvis down on my hand in alternate strokes. I twisted my hand, stretching her walls. Our own odors competed with the fresh afternoon smells.
"'Let's fuck,' she said, and I must have looked surprised, because she giggled and said, 'Why do you think that bottle of soda pop for later?'
"I was shocked, but I was hot and anxious for her to relieve the tension in my groin, and I would have consented to almost anything. She ran bare-ass naked to where she'd left her clothes and her huge carryall. I saw her take a bottle opener from the purse and unhook the cap. Then, covering the spout with her thumb, she ran back toward me. The soda was half foam and half beverage. She raised the thumb, and the fizz came spewing over the bottle's lip. I spread my arms out as if I were going to be crucified, and I bit into my lip. I didn't know quite what was coming, but I suspected it would be at least as painful as pleasurable. I wondered how it would feel when the hymen would finally break.
"She let the eruption subside, and then she kneeled. One leg was between the fork of my own spread limbs. She tipped the bottle toward my crotch, and a little of the fluid spilled on the ground, and a few sticky drops onto the insides of my thighs.
"The soda had gotten warm, and the tip of the bottle glowed with warmth as it touched my sopping pussy. A little more of the soda dribbled out, and my clitoris tingled as it soaked the fizzy sweetness in.
"Eustace covered the open bottle again and shook it, then removed her thumb and let some of the stuff pour on my belly, on my legs, and on the tissue around my vagina.
"Then she pushed the mouth of the half-empty tube against the twat lips. I wiggled and stuck my pelvis up so that I could take in the glass neck, and she rolled the mouth until more soda spilled out, but my hole was too tiny. She held the bottle against me, and she pulled at one side of the cunt, and then she jammed me so hard that my eyes watered. All the sound I could make, though, was a low moan that turned to a sigh of satisfaction as the fizzy stuff drooled up the lining of my cunt, exciting the walls.
"Now Eustace stationed herself between my legs, which writhed with the pain I could not absorb in my torso. She took the bottle's base and smashed it against her own groin. 'Oh ... ' she sighed, as the glass touched and meshed with her clitoral button. She held the bottle midway toward the stem, and she pushed it with the weight of her own body.
"I could feel the skin and tissue inside me start to strain, but I did not know precisely when the hymen was torn. There was no intense pain, no single sharp blow, but really just a numbness I was grateful for. She left only the first inch of the spout inside me, and she put her open hand on my slick pud. She took the clit between her thumb and the flat of her forefinger. The walls of my hole tightened hard around the bottle, and when they relaxed, Eustace shoved it in a couple of inches more. I was on fire, less from the bleeding and the pain than from the warm soda, bubbling up like a fiery douche to my womb.
"She tore the bottle from me, and a cuntful of soda fell to the ground between my legs. The uncorking effect disturbed my stomach, and I farted loudly, but that didn't seem to disturb Eustace. She put the base of the bottle on the grass. The curved glass moved into my woman's hair, and I automatically closed my legs together in an effort to retain the bulk.
"But she took it away as well. She raised it to her mouth, leaned back, and swallowed some of the remaining contents. The edge of the container must have tasted of my sweat and blood.
"'Your cunt smells nice. Clean, like a virgin's.' I blushed shyly. She rested her open palm on my breast. My nipple became harder, and when she rubbed it down into the cream-colored jug, it became sharp and stiff.
She was still breathing hard. 'I've always wished I had bigger breasts,' she said wistfully. As if to demonstrate, she inhaled, and her breasts rose. 'Like yours.'
"'Really?' I laughed. "They've always made me self-conscious. Like when boys look at you. I've always wanted to hide.'
"'Most men are like babies. The first thing they go for are our boobs.'
"'Do you like men? At all?'
"'Of course I do.' She was relaxed, almost detached. 'I like men and women. I've never seen the need to restrict myself.'
"The aching in my cunt had subsided, but the itching need for friction and completion of what we'd started remained. I giggled. 'Don't you want to-anymore?'
"Her hand opened and moved under my breast, as if to scoop it up. 'Yes. I though you might want to rest. I don't like hurting girls, you know.'
"'Have you ever done it with a virgin before?'
"'No,' she smiled. 'But you have to remember, I once was a virgin. I know how it feels.'
"She ran her fingers through my pubic hair, glossy with sweat, with the sticky soda, with the liquid that had been released from the lining of my hole. Her knees grazed the grass and dirt as she spread her legs out and moved down my body. 'I want you to come, and I can make you come with my mouth.' She lashed me right at the clit, and then she tasted the inside of the vagina. 'You taste like pop,' she said, and I said, 'I know,' laughing so hard the walls of the opening closed together hard.
"'Please kiss me,' I said as suddenly, and for a moment I was afraid I was going to cry. Everything seemed so beautiful. She was soft, and her tongue made me fee? soft, soft and warm. The warmth and the setting made me feel romantic. She came up, holding her smallish breasts with her hand so that they would not touch mine. Her mouth was delicate. Her tongue tasted of that same weird mixture of fluids. She grabbed my lower lip between her front teeth, and she pulled the lip away from my mouth.
"I started to breathe heavily, and my hips pumped my pelvis up in a steady, gyrating curve that brought my skin against hers, until our pubic nets meshed into one another, and she was squirming to come closer to me. She pushed her knees under my thighs and forced my ass flesh up against my tailbones. I reached behind her and squeezed her buttock. She moved her head back and forth, and I pushed away her hair so that I could tongue-kiss her at the nape. She groaned and sighed and pushed her chest against mine.
"Her hand touched her own breast as it did mine, and separated them. She was teasing my nipple, gently at first, but now she was twisting it.
"I stuck my fingers inside her damp woman, and she jammed her pelvic bones, so hard into mine in a single thump that I winced and cried aloud. 'Did I hurt you?' she sighed perfunctorily, but she was so hot and bothered-as was I-that we kept squirming against each other, trying to consume and touch each other at every point our bodies met, that the question went unanswered. Her mouth grabbed onto my large breast and suckled it tenderly, while the teeth slid up as she tried to stuff all of the jug inside her mouth, while her tongue licked the underside furiously.
"She scratched my back with long nails as she pulled in on my breast, and I curled my tongue again through the channels of her outer ear, seizing the lobe with my teeth and blowing on the ear, now wet.
"We were fingering each other wildly. I turned on my side and then pushed her over. I was on top of her. I slammed my stomach down impatiently on her. Her fingers, which had slipped out from the hole in my crotch, penetrated inside. I had seen they were covered with blood, but I was oblivious to pain now.
"She removed her fingers, and she rolled the fingertips over the curved surfaces of my buttock cheeks, which peeked through the pubic arch between my sprawled legs. The moisture of my ass made me tingle, but the absence of her fingers inside of me, pumping me for the climax, was like being deboweled, or so it seemed. I grabbed at her hand, and she was wet with my moisture.
"'Please ... ' I whimpered, not really knowing what I wanted her to do. I couldn't stand the tension of waiting for the orgasm to pass over and through me, for my cunt to open up like an endless tunnel.
"Her fingers as they went in were slower, but the thrusts harder, and again I felt the tissue surrounding the soggy hole strained with her force. She was coming, so convulsively that her stomach writhed violently, and my fingers slipped out. My cunt walls were opening and were juicy, and I was trying to penetrate her again with my fingers, but all I could do was to wipe her own moisture roughly, mercilessly across the clit, greasy and inflated.
"I thrust my pelvis out, but Eustace's other hand caught the bone and clutched the tender flesh around it, made me steady just as I rode the orgasm home. I shoved my face against hers, and her mouth opened naturally. My tongue fell between her lips and stroked her tongue wetly, wild-as though I were trying to seize her own inside of it as it squirmed and then swallow it.
"We rested in the sun, walking around. The sun's heat was dry, and there was low, crisp wind that dried the beads of perspiration from both our bodies, Instinctively my hand went to my cunt as we walked. I was sore, but the blood had stopped running from the walls and the soft lining.
"We swam some more, laughing, giggling, kissing underwater. We even tried diving together, hand in hand, our bodies hitting the water like a plank. We made love on the rock, the ends of our limbs extending off the stone as we balanced precariously.
"We started to get dressed in the usual way, but then we thought we would dress each other. Eustace spread her legs far apart, her hands on her hips, Superman-style. She lifted the sole of her foot from the ground, and the sheer synthetic fabric of the pale pink panties sizzled as they went up her legs. When they were in place, the elastic band ringing her level with her pelvic bones, I could see the mop of hair. The band was just above the hair. I patted the dense silk, and I must have pressured her clit with my fingertips, because she rolled her stomach against my hand. She kneeled, and she started to put my bra on, but her hands grew distracted by the texture of my nipples. We made love again, one last time....
"So, now I was having a lesbian affair with our tutor, and so was my sister. I naively thought that my affair with Eustace would supplant her relationship with Lydia. After all, I was older, and we had more in common, intellectually at least.
"That was my crucial mistake. I had fallen in love with Eustace."
Incest, at least in times past, has occurred relatively infrequently. It has been, however, useful as a psychological construct (more since Freud than before) and often as a literary device. Indeed, since the origin of the Oedipus myth, incest has been the "literary perversion."
The more than casual reader is referred to Violation of Taboo, by Daniel Webster Cory and R.E.L. Masters, an anthology of the use of the incest theme in great literature.
Frequently, as in the case presented in this chapter, it is the outsider who instigates the incestuous situation. The outsider can enter at either side of the incest relationship, beginning or conclusion, though when the relationship is solidly established-in its middle phase, so to speak-the incest couple are almost invulnerable to swapping. Perhaps this is because the burden of excitement and even the exotic quality of such a romance is sustained longer than in normal heterosexual and homosexual relations.
Incestuous couples can be seen, in a certain sense, to be particularly vulnerable to swapping, if one takes seriously Freud's theory of the heavy cathexes of family love. Swapping becomes a way of turning outward, of releasing tension, of smashing the familial atom, however briefly. It is, then, an escape valve in an explosive situation.
What, then, of situations like that of Eustace, Olivia, and Olivia's younger sister, Lydia? One must assume initiation in Eustace's affair with Lydia came from the former, though we have the testimony neither of the younger nor the older woman, but only of the younger sister, Olivia. Homosexuality affects the construct in that the "Turning inward" usually signified by it suggests, eventually, incest itself.
Before we continue with this case study, we must present Dr. Gilbert Hamilton's argument about the relationship between incest and homosexuality, particularly applicable to the case of Eustace and the two sisters. Hamilton proposes that the fear of incest is a major determinant of homosexuality.
If, as can be indubitably established by appropriate methods of experimentation, homosexual behavior is at times resorted to as a purely defensive measure by the infrahuman primate, a question arises as to whether defensiveness is a factor in the determination of human homosexuality. My studies of compulsive alcoholism, certain types of the manic depressive psychosis and overt human homosexuality have led me to the conclusion that fear of incest is a more important factor in the development of sexual inversion than is generally realized.
Psychological analysis is of necessity almost always after the fact. That is, we can interpret emotions, situation, even the choice of words (so-called Freudian slips) after they happen, though we can hardly ever predict behavior accurately. With that disclaimer, we can see, however, that Eustace's simultaneous seductions of both sisters managed first to avert the incestual dynamics of the sisters' relationship, and later accomplished their sexual liaison.
(It would have been un-likely, one guesses, that either of the girls, had they turned to homosexuality, would have been interested in incest, since the homosexuality would have absorbed much of the libido, and indeed solved, however inadequately, the problem Hamilton discusses. That both were seduced into lesbian romances by the same woman eventually led to swapping, with no little encouragement from the seductress herself, we will see in the pages that follow.
"Eustace gave up all pretense of trying to teach us anything. She would walk with us in the morning, and, though we never talked about it, the way it would work was that my sister and I would take turns in leaving, and Eustace would make love to us in turn. The situation was more difficult for me, because I had a crush on Eustace, while my sister was merely enjoying the physical relationship. I was jealous of Lydia, but she wasn't jealous of me.
"I know why Lyd wanted to swap. Essentially she was amoral. The idea that any restrictions at all could apply to her did not anger her; it just made no sense, that's all. She went about her merry way.
"My excuse, though I realize it wasn't a good one, was weakness. I wanted to please Eustace, and soon she became restless with her merely making lesbian love to teenage sisters. She wanted something more bizarre. She began to stare in that seductive way of hers at both of us, when we were all together, her eye resting on me, then on Lydia, and in her eyes we could both read a message like: 'Just because I'm looking at you doesn't mean I'm not thinking about your sister, too, because I just stared at her with the same look, and now she's staring at me.' That, and certain ways of drawing my sister and myself physically closer, like hugging us both, prefigured the sex scene we'd soon find ourselves in.
"Eustace's persuasion was like the iron hand in the velvet glove. When she suggested it, she always set the stage-with me, at least-by acting dissatisfied, which would invariably provoke me to ask her what was wrong. Then she'd say she was going crazy relating to two women who weren't relating to each other. That made me think, of course-and there to as that implicit threat-that she was going to pick one of us. I was afraid it wouldn't be me, so eventually I succumbed. I suspect she had to use no such pressure on my sister, though I doubt it would have worked on Lyd, in any case, "because, she wasn't in love with our tutor.
"It was early in the afternoon, just after lunch. Lydia and I had washed and dried the dishes, while Eustace busied herself in her room. After we'd finished, we went upstairs. Eustace was naked-not an unusual mode of dress for her-and she was still wet from a shower. She was rubbing herself down with a towel, droplets of water rolling down her body to wet the bedroom carpet.
"'Help me, you guys-okay?' She let one end of the towel, which had been covering her behind, fall toward the ground. I advanced quickly and picked it up, while Eustace pressed the other end of the towel directly into Lydia's hand. A flicker of jealousy passed through me-I just couldn't help it!
"We smoothed the terry cloth all down her body until she was dry and her skin blushed pink from the friction of cloth over skin. I lingered awhile, tracing the corner over the protruding lips of the vulva, and rubbing the hair back against the sensitive skin below it. My sister jammed a fingerful of terry cloth up between Eustace's cheeks, and she wiped the asshole dry.
"'Oh good,' Eustace said cheerfully, and she walked away, fully dry, as we still eagerly and almost greedily caressed her beautiful body through the towel. We might have gone on indefinitely, but she turned quickly on her naked feet and faced us both, her eyes appearing to make contact with both of us, but actually riveted on some arbitrary middle point, like those of a performer speaking to a vast audience. 'Why don't we ... now?'
"She had left out the verb, but we knew what she meant. I turned my head to face Lydia, but Lyd didn't even blink at me-she was already walking toward Eustace, who was smiling with satisfaction. She opened her arms wide, and she welcomed Lydia into them as though the child were a long-lost relative. If nothing else had done the trick, that would have-the sight of my lover's unfettered jugs under the pressure of my sister's smallish chest, colliding and sliding against them, while the nipples went hard. My sister raised her calf straight out in a right angle behind her, no doubt tingling as Eustace's hand pushed against the skirt that hid the panties that hid the beaver!
"I could not beat my sister into Eustace's embrace, so I could only race her to complete nudity. Already Eustace's expert fingers were reaching under my sister's blouse to unhook the girl's starchy training-bra.
"I hadn't worn a bra that day-the hint of nudity another incentive for Eustace. I dressed for her as some teenage girls dress for a boy, so I had only to pull at the buttons of my silk blouse before my breasts dropped into view. I don't know why, but I put my hand over my heart. Under my fingertips, my large nipple grew stiffer and seemed to magnify, while my heartbeats grew closer together. I was wearing jeans. I yanked at the button that held the waist, and I bent down to pull them down my legs and off my ankles. I was barefoot, and so I only needed now to strip my panties.
"I started toward the two of them, standing and hugging and kissing, with the underwear still in my hand, and I only dropped them when I placed the same hand on Eustace's rump and started to squeeze it. She straightened her leg and then curled it around my own as I stood. I was leaning onto her, my arm around her shoulder, but I was scrupulously avoiding physical contact with my sister. More because she was younger, I suspect, than because she didn't want to, Lydia was literally at arm's length from me. The three of us were in a line, a stiff line, my sister and I separated from each other by Eustace's perfect body.
"'Come on, baby,' coaxed Eustace, letting go of Lydia and turning to me. I could feel the heat of her body, though only our bellies touched, and they just barely. Touch her. She wants you to touch her. You're sisters, and you shouldn't be afraid to touch each other. You're not afraid to love each other, are you?'
"Despite her soft and reassuring tone, I let a few teardrops fall from the corners of my eyes. They clouded my vision and my resolve, and I let Eustace take me by the hand and lead me to the bed. She pressed her fingers into the small of my back as I went totally limp, pretending I was lost in a dream with lots of white smoke. They eased me onto the bed until I sank happily into the mattress. Yes, they'-because it was Lydia who lifted my legs. Her palms were cupped under my ankles, and it was she who brought the legs to the bed, spread apart ever so little.
"I closed my eyes, so I don't know whose lips they were that first touched me. I think they were Eustace's, skillful, more experienced-though my sister was soon to surprise me with her sexual skill. I raised my ass off the bed and spread my legs wider, trying to support myself on my heels.
"Lydia's hands were smaller than Eustace's, and I knew it was my sister who was fondling my breasts, turning the tits to erect pebbles. I shivered, amazed that my sister could be enjoying me sexually. My other breast was being sucked by Eustace, who ran the edges of her teeth over the areola while she licked the jug's underside and played with the folds of my cunt.
"Two sets of fingers were playing with me there, and the clit came erect. I opened my eyes, and I looked into Lydia's face as her hand swept up from my vagina to my stomach, while her knee moved into my beaver as pressed Eustace's hand into the cleft. Eustace drew her hand away, smiling at the success of the beginning of the troilistic encounter, and let Lydia roll her knee against me.
"Lyd moved her leg down and brushed against my thigh while her finger parted the vulva ridges. Her fingertips moved inside and pushed against one of my walls, and she smeared the grease over the labia while she arched her spine and shoved her breasts over against my larger boobs.
"My fingers threaded through her hair, smooth, long and straight. I ran my forefinger along her collarbone and dug" the tip into the indentation, while my wrist grazed sideways above her reddish areola. I opened my mouth and closed my eyes, and my sister followed up on my hint of willingness. Her mouth was wet, and her tongue was anxious. Our tongues met and scraped, and her tongue tip pushed up on my palate, and as I brought my teeth together, I almost cut into her lip. She rewarded me by shoving my breasts together, so the nipples were just inches apart, and then sliding her open mouth across them so that she wet both caps with her tongue.
"I could only see Eustace's hair, moving this way and that as if windswept. She was down at my legs, and her fingers were teasing the muscle of my thigh, and she was pushing up on my leg so she could snuggle her head under it. Her hand pushed at my ass cheek and separated it from its twin. While flat on my back, I was having my asshole licked. I tried to reach her, to caress her skin, but I could only scratch at her scalp through the hair.
"My legs had been pushed up. My sister was to my side, pushing her face down on the beaver, while Eustace continued to suck on my bunghole. Her teeth scratched the skin she'd wet with her tongue on the insides of the muscular globes of my buttocks.
"They were so into what they were doing that I had to struggle almost to get free. Then I lunged at them, first at Eustace-but with my hand I grabbed for Lydia's breast just as my mouth fell on Eustace's cunt, sweet smelling from soap and shower water. The narrow flaps moved easily with the slightest pressure of my tongue. I pulled my lips in over my teeth and took all of the vulva into my mouth, while my finger tried to pay her the compliment her tongue had paid my own.
"I felt a new weight on my back. It was Lydia playing "horsy,' rubbing her sparse-haired genitalia, warmly damp now with her excitement, over the slope of my rear. The prickly little hairs stuck into the hint of space between the two hills, and they tickled me. I reached behind her and touched her waist with my palm, just as I took a bite from the exact center of Eustace's belly, and the command 'suck me, suck me,' came from her lips.
"Immediately, Lydia lost attention with me and slithered at my side to Eustace, who she turned on her side, so that her ass faced Lydia, and I was obliged to lie cm my own side to face her. I streaked down the bed until I could lick the clitoris with my tongue. I dug my teeth gingerly into the skin below the hair, and my tongue curled and pressed the flesh. I merely had to poke my hand under Eustace's pubic arch to grab one of my sister's small breasts. I teased her tit, and I raised my knee and socked it into her cunt, and rubbed the protrusions of slick flesh around the vagina with the kneecap, as she had done to me.
"She spread her legs and draped one over my back. While Eustace moaned and her hand pushed her body from the bed, and her leg curled around my neck, I lowered my sights and kissed my sister open-mouthed under the mistletoe of her muff. I was bearded with the hair, and I rolled my tongue over my sister's muff and almost coughed on a single curly hair that I'd tongued off Eustace's cunt.
"Eustace was impatient, and her body quivered with urgency. She rubbed her ass into Lydia's face, and she reached down to force my mouth against her privates. I closed my eyes while her hair tickled my eyelids, and my sister squeezed the meat of my thigh. I put both my legs between hers and rested on the small of my back while I sucked Eustace's quim. The side of my left leg touched Lydia's sexual hair, but my vagina quivered when my sister brought the sole of her foot up against' my pud and rolled the heel over the opening.
"We were a machine. I was shoving my crotch up against my sister's sole, while we were both sucking, slurping, licking our tutor at her two openings. I took my mouth away; I wanted to breathe air that didn't smell of raw, pulsing cunt. I looked up at Eustace. Her arms covered her breasts and squeezed them together while she hunched her shoulders, looking like she was cold. But her tongue rolled mindlessly over her lips. The lips were glossy, and her mouth was half open even when the tongue did not move. 'Suck ... ' she rasped. My chin felt her stomach push out when Lyd stuck her finger into her ass, burying the digit inside the tight, hot quarters. She unplugged the anus and licked it, keeping the tip of the finger just inside the space where the two ass cheeks came together, and then she licked it before reinserting it.
"I imitated her. One moment I stroked her with my finger, and the next I pushed the edge of my tongue inside the hole. I wiggled it up through the hair and soft, wet skin until I flagged the ballooning clit from side to side. I jammed my finger up her again, and she 'oohed' and 'aahed' some more.
"But my other hand pushed up until I had one of her breasts inside it. Her own hand moved over and over the surface of the other jug, while she put two fingers from the hand I'd pushed away into her mouth, and she sucked on them so hard I could hear the rhythmic suction. Her areola was alive. I rubbed the nipple sharp and stiff with the flat of my first finger. My sister pushed her mouth against my chin, and then I turned away from Eustace's cunt and exchanged a kiss with Lyd. Her tongue tasted lightly of musk, and my own tongue and lips were salty with vaginal slime. I felt gooey and sticky, but my throat was parched dry. I drew one of my legs back and tried to stick my big toe inside of Lydia. Lyd took the toe and led it inside. It was like a steam bath. Lubricating fluid forced itself under the toenail.
"'Come on!" our tutor exclaimed almost out of nowhere. She rolled her hips and stomach and bumped straight forward into my face before pushing her ass harder into Lyd's face. 'Come on ... come on ... ' she sighed breathlessly, as though the words were a mantra, and Lydia and I worked harder to bring her to orgasm.
"My hand ached with the movement of its fingers inside her twat. Lydia put her hands around Eustace's behind. We were competing for our friend's body, both of us trying to eat her.
"Now she started to pull at us with her fingers on our shoulders and necks. She was moving her body as though possessed by a demon, or as if she were having a fit. She kicked her legs out, hitting my breasts with her knees, and she insisted on lying on her back, while not losing touch with either my sister or myself.
"Her pelvis was rotating in a bump-and-grind fashion, and finally she released her own body, the fingers a thousand trials at once. Her hands seemed detached from her-they were the hands of another, consuming every inch of her; dipping one moment into her sex, the next scratching her thighs, while all the time she brought her groin up off the bed.
"She had her clit covered with the flat of her forefinger, and she was pressing it down. 'Oh!' she groaned, as if pain had wounded her in an instant. 'Piss ... piss on me ... please piss on me!'
"That was the first time she'd ever suggested a fetish like that to me, though my sister seemed more amused than surprised. Indeed, she even seemed to know what was required of her. She drew one naked limb toward her, straddled it, rubbed her pubic strands against it, and then came up. Her eyes were closed, and she looked as though she were thinking of something.
"Eustace was saying, over and over, 'Ah ... ah! ... Ooooh. ... ' And then the pale yellow rain started to pour down and splash Eustace's curvy thigh. Eustace grabbed my arm and squeezed it. I spread my legs around her leg, and it was easy to pee when the suggestion was presented so graphically by the stream of urine drenching her other limb and wetting the bed around it. Her lips were tight together, forming a smile at the corners. Her face radiated bliss as my own water ran onto her leg. Lydia was trying to maneuver so that her piss splashed down on Eustace's muff. The older woman was jabbing her clit, large, pink, and puffy, with her finger, and she was coming wildly when the pee triggered her, drenching her hand.
"When it was over, we had to take the sheets off the bed and remake it. Lydia was laughing all the while, and occasionally stealing looks at me to see how I was taking it. I tried to betray no emotion, though this view of Eustace had shocked me a little. But she-Eustace-seemed unashamed.
"The house was warm, and we were all in a drowsy mood, the more so because we had been making love so earnestly. We fell into the bed as soon as new sheets covered it. We huddled together under the top sheet. We giggled, as though we were hiding from each other.
"Eustace stopped laughing and turned to Lydia and said, 'Before, we didn't satisfy her. I want you to make love to her. And I want to watch.' She slithered to the foot of the bed. My sister threw legs over the sheet and I followed her. We faced each other on our sides, a bit stiffly. It was all I could do to keep from giggling.
"She grabbed my head from behind and pressed at the base of my skull with her fingertips, as the nails scratched the scalp. Self-consciously she thrust her adolescent breasts against mine, and my jugs almost enveloped the budding mammaries. I stroked the side of her body with my palm, and my thumb pushed the breast forward, making it fuller. My thumb touched the nipple, which was like a hot coal to the touch. My sister was biting my neck, and I felt a rush of blood through my chest. She was hugging me, hugging me with her arms and her legs, wrapping both around me until I thought she would break me with her surprising strength.
"My whole body was greased with sweat, and as she rolled against me and finally above me, her perspiration-soaked body and my own slid back and forth, up and down, making the most delicate contacts as we searched for each other's privates with our fingers, making the lips of the cunt wiggle under the prodding of our knuckles.
"Her legs curled under my thighs, and she pushed up on her palm, so the first thing I knew was that we were face to face, our boobs touching and my bush meshing with hers, although I had my ass on her thighs. She kept fingering me, but every third stroke she withdrew and slid the wet fingertips over some part of my body, until I was dabbed here and there with the lubrication from inside my own body. She groaned as I pushed my thumbs up under her armpit and ran my teeth against her lips.
"Her hands were under my thighs. They were pulling at the sides of my twat. I was going to turn outside in, I thought to myself, while a few droplets of ooze dripped from me. I tried to push my tongue inside Lyd's mouth, wanting the security of being inside her. She was breathing hard, but I took my hand away from her crotch. I was too excited to fondle her. My shoulders moved back and my arms snapped straight as I tried to absorb the barrage of sensation.
We rocked in each other's arms, our legs locked around the other's back. But my cunt was itchy for fulfillment, and Lydia was anxious to give it to me. When we fell over-my back hitting the mattress-Lydia's hands gently told me I should stay down. Damply the fingers pushed into the heaving breast muscles. I tried to sprawl my legs as far as I could, and I tried to rub the small of my back, the base of my spine, into the fresh clean bedsheet.
"Just the. saliva that coated her tongue was like an ocean that, wave after wave, tried to put out the fire in my cunt. My box burned, but the spit she spread over it cooled it. The walls of the hole separated and she thrust two fingers inside me; the lining closed in and she left the fingers inside, squirming, rolling, pushing the walls and molding them with the shapes of her fingertips, while I pushed my stomach into her face, and she dipped her tongue down through the hair between my buttocks and up against the sphincter. She tried to fill her mouth with bites of my ass, but I was squirming, impatiently trying to direct the tongue's attention to my box. She pushed her tongue inside the hole and then wiggled it back and forth. Her fingers, wet with my come, coated my tits, and I pressed my thumb hard into the base of her neck, and again she shivered, her spine moving like a cat's as it vibrated.
"I felt her pushing her hand against my side, but when I didn't take the hint, she rasped, "Turn over,' and I did. I thought she was going to use that easier way to suck at my asshole, and finger me besides, with her hand scooping under my buttocks to penetrate my soaking vagina. But instead, her small hands stung my ass with a loud slap. She was giving me a spanking! The contact did not hurt until a second later, when she raised her hand from the globes, but then the skin burned with heat; it was like an echo of pain after the slap. She did it again, and this time was harder. My buttocks jiggled like two molds of jelly as she smacked me, harder once more, for a third time. The pain was spreading down my thighs, but curiously some of it centered like an electricity, a tingling, in the center of my vagina. When she came down again, the side of her hand fell like a karate chop and sliced the twins apart, falling between them and stuffing the anal crack.
"I oozed cunt liquid as her knuckles grazed the surface of my sphincter. She left her forefinger between my cheeks, and the first joints of the bone pushed inside my rectum while her index curled under and penetrated the vagina more easily and more deeply.
"I felt like some blind animal being torn apart and caressed at the same time. I purred and I pushed my tits hard against the linen. I bowed my spine and the nipples left contact with the sheet before I threw myself back against the bed in a frenzied fit.
"She bent my leg back, and she was rubbing her own beaver sideways on the heel, stretching the hole open, teasing the clit with her own fingers, and moving so fast that the bed did not shake but vibrated instead.
"She hit me again with her hand, and I started to pant. I tried to moisten my dry lips with my tongue, but my body was so out of control I merely licked the sheet. I spent my last bit of energy turning over and then twisting my body until I forced my cunt against her mouth, and I could lick at hers.
"She tasted so salty that each lick made me thirstier for the tangy juice that lined the hole. The tissue bubbled out of the quim and kissed my lips as I rubbed them, dampening them. I inhaled her smell, and the odor of cunt filled my lungs.
"I turned my head sort of sideways and tried to force the hole absolutely closed with the blanket of raw pink tissue converging between my teeth and covering the darkness the orifice disclosed. My wrists pushed her buttocks together, and she strained as thump after thump of orgasm came through her, and her body jammed against my mouth as though to punish it for the pleasure it had given her. Finally I knew there was no reason to restrain myself, and I squeezed the long muscles of her calves, and I half screamed as the muscle spasm became an engine in my crotch, and I was wiping her mouth with my beaver, and sucking in on my sister's twat folds and blowing on her clit. My legs were wild, and Lydia had to hold them, keep them from springing, so that she could suck the orgasm from me. Finally the tension of my walls, dilating and contracting, became a narcotic sliding....
"I looked down at the foot of the bed, while Lydia just gratefully rolled her cheek in my wetness. Eustace looked like a demon. Her hair flew as she snapped her head and bit on her lips. A washrag had been twisted tight, and she had drawn her legs up toward her. One hand held one end of the cloth at her throbbing pelvis, while the other whipped it from under her leg. It tasted the inside of her slickened pussy while she blinked at the slowing bodies that had just drained their orgasms dry. She pushed her face so hard into the mattress I thought she'd break her nose, but she bit into the mattress to hold herself. She groaned, and her arm was whirring so fast with the tightened washcloth that she must have ached. At last she let go of the cloth, her hands opened, and she banged her well-muscled ass against the mattress until the springs wheezed under her weight.
"At last it was over. 'Oh ... somebody ... ' she whispered. Her face was wet with perspiration. Her cheeks seemed puffy. 'Somebody ... fuck me,' she groaned, and she raised her hands. They were twisting open and shut, and she was grasping at the air for shadows of flesh. Slowly, like beasts stirring from sleep, my sister and I-I don't remember who was first-moved across the large bed and started to take parts of her in our mouths, under and inside our hands and legs and cunts.
"That was the first and last time we tried swapping. Eustace's curiosity was relieved, and she was not insistent that we continue. She made love to us separately, but by the end of the summer all three of us were just a little bit tired of each other, and it was with affection but no particular regret that Lydia and I said good-bye and left for England."
CHAPTER THREE
Oedipal Swap
"I was a 'mama's boy,' one of those children of mothers who cannot-I repeat, cannot-give them enough love. All through junior high and high school, other kids accused me of being a fag. I knew the truth, but how could I help it if I were effeminate? I guess I took on more behavioral characteristics from my mother than from my father.
"I've often thought, since then, of why that would be true. Outwardly, my father was a competent and even efficient lawyer. He had the respect of his clients and of other members of the legal profession. But all the time I can remember, mom had him in tow.
"He was quiet, and over and over, one of the few things he would open his mouth to say to my mother was, 'Jennifer, what shall I do?' And mom did not try to soothe his pride by covering up her influence. She would tell him straight off and in detail what to do.
"She wasn't a bitch, understand. She didn't nag, and dad didn't complain. He wanted her to make his decisions for him-even professional decisions, where mom's competence was limited.
"In a strange way, I realize that mom repeated her relationship with my father with me. In that case, it would have been a normal enough thing after all, she treated dad like a child! But the trouble was that in transferring her affection from him to me she brought along her sexual drives.
"I guess it's foolish for me to pretend I was seduced by my mother, and that I was totally unaware of what was happening. I knew, and I even fantasized about it, but I never dreamed it would happen, and when it did, it was like it-the decision-was being taken out of my hands.
"When she would be affectionate with me, it would turn me on. One night, after kissing her good-night-mom's kisses were a bit lingering for the usual maternal kiss-I walked up the stairs, knowing a droplet of semen had leaked from the slit in my penis. The dork's head was glued to the front flap of my shorts.
"That night was the first time I fantasized having sex with mom, and, as I fantasized, I masturbated. I stood before the mirror above my dresser drawers and looked cynically into my own eyes. I knew what I was going to do, and I was almost amazed that I felt no guilt. When I looked into the mirror, it was as though I were trying to figure out what kind of person would do that.
"I had been called a faggot and worse. I had never even thought of having sex with a guy, but that didn't matter. I could think about girls I wanted, but as far as the school I went to, I was branded, and those girls were inaccessible for me. In a strange way, my mother was not.
"I pulled at the belt of my jeans. I ran my forefinger over the outline of the metal buckle. It felt good, sensual. Masturbation had been cut-and-dried, but now that I was thinking about mom, even totally neutral physical objects seemed to take on their own sexual identity for my visual and tactile senses.
"My nostrils flexed as I remembered her own peculiar smell, the mixture of her perfume and her own light body sweat, and the sweet smell of her breath. I thought of the way that evening, just before I went up to bed, that I'd looked greedily at the way her bra straps showed out under the surface of the purple jersey top she wore.
"I thought about the color of her nipples, a full, rich brown. I hadn't remembered that she'd been big on walking around naked when I was little, but I guess I'd unconsciously noticed she'd been very relaxed about nudity in the house in the past couple of years. Whenever my father would say something like, 'Tsk, tsk, Jennifer,' and flex his eyebrows, she would say, 'Oh, Bill, you're so old-fashioned. We shouldn't be ashamed and uncomfortable with our bodies. And it's bad for Howard if his parents are repressed about their bodies.'
"Well, she had nothing to be ashamed of, at least. For a woman her age-she was thirty-nine when I was sixteen-she was in remarkably good shape. Her skin tone was admirable, and her complexion a milky pink that was easily tanned in spring and summer. Her figure was good for a girl half her age. She had firm breasts; even when she wandered around the house in a sheer negligee, I could see that her boobs weren't flabby, like a lot of girls' when they go without bras. Her nipples would grow stiff under whatever garment she wore when she didn't use a bra. They were large, the size of half-dollars.
"Her legs were long, and her thighs were solid. She had the figure to wear a miniskirt. She was proud of her body, and so, to tell the truth, was my father, who'd let his own body go to seed.
"I was going through a bad time in school then. I was playing Ariel in the school production of The Tempest. That was because I was small and delicate, and Ariel, quite literally, was a fairy. This did me no good with my peer group, as you can imagine. During all this time, I never once felt that I really was a fag. I wondered what those girls who thought I was one would say if they saw my cock, which was nine inches when it was erect, and plenty thick.
"One afternoon, when I came home from rehearsals, I decided, rather dramatically, that I couldn't stand it anymore, and that I was going to kill myself. I comforted myself with the thought of how grief-stricken my mother would be. Strangely enough, I had no feeling for my father's sorrow, and I didn't even wonder how badly he would take it. Images of my mother filled my mind, and I saw convulsive sobs rack her body and make her breasts heave.
"I went into the bathroom and took a bottle of sleeping tablets. They weren't prescription, though, but the kind you can get at drugstores. They weren't really much stronger than aspirin, but I didn't know that. I took about ten. I would have taken more, but I was getting queasy from swallowing all of them, and I didn't think that many were necessary anyway.
"I went into the bedroom and stretched out flat on my back, like a corpse. It was really very funny, now that I remember, but I was in dead earnest at the time. Usually it was father who called me down to the table, but he was out of town on business, so it was mom's hand that rapped on my bedroom door.
"I hadn't even passed out. I felt a little sick to my stomach. Over an hour had passed, and I was still on my back, stiff and waiting to die! I felt hopeless, like there was no escape. 'Dinner is almost ready,' my mother said from behind the door, and then she came in the room.
"I guess I must have looked gloomy, if not sick, because when she looked at me, she came immediately over to the side of the bed. She kneeled and put her hand on my head. 'What's wrong, sweetie?' she said, in her baby-talk voice. She was always talking to me like that, and to my father like that when she was feeling particularly affectionate toward him.
"I just started to cry. I muttered words and phrases incoherently as the tears streamed down my face, and my body was racked with sobs. All the time I was aware that real men didn't cry, and here I was, in my mother's arms again, a "mama's boy.'
"'What's wrong, baby,' she kept saying, and little by little I told her. I hadn't wanted to. She never seemed to notice that I had few friends, and if my father did, he didn't want to be bothered.
"I told her how I was afraid I would never have a girl friend, that no one ever would think I was a real man, that I'd go through life having to take these slurs and insults.
"When I looked in her eyes, I could see the surprise mingle with pain. No woman, even if she thinks of her child as a little boy, can accept the idea that he is 'abnormal.' or 'not right' in some way. 'You're very handsome, Howard,' she said reassuringly. 'You have nice brown eyes, and a nice slim body, even if you are small.' These compliments were interspersed with kisses on my cheeks. Her fingertips massaged and dried the streaks of tears that soaked my face.
"My head ached with the rhythm of my crying. My brain was frenzied with confused emotions. Now I realized I was getting a hard on from the way my mother was touching me. It was almost sexual, the way she was patting my shoulders and my chest. I pushed my hips into the bed to hide my erection. She was over me, her body huddled into a ball. She leaned over my chest. Her breasts, now enclosed in a bra, touched my chest, and the friction of several layers of clothing made my nipples taut.
"She brought her lips down on mine. She was crying, but more quietly than I. Her mouth was open, and as she turned her head against mine, her tongue fell into my half-open mouth and collided with mine. My heart felt as though it had stopped beating. I was paralyzed with fear and, at the same time, with anticipation. She held on to me so tight that I was soon aroused, and my cock was as big as it could get, throbbing against the confinement of my undershorts and my dungarees.
"She rolled over on top of me and kissed my forehead with puckered lips. The few tears that remained dropped off and wet my face. Her eyes were smeared with mascara, but it gave her a nice kind of, well, a smoky look, really sultry. She didn't look like herself at all, really. It was like she were drunk or something. I kissed her back, on the cheek again. I couldn't help smiling, because it began to seem to me like some little mother-and-son-game, like when I was a child; you know, like some game that a mother plays to get you to eat your food. Like, 'Here, you put this in your mouth, and I'll give you a kiss.' And then you do, and then she does, and then you both giggle at the game. It was really kind of nice, and for the briefest of seconds I forgot about the nature of the strange flirtation that had been going on for weeks by then.
"It seemed as if our lips had collided by accident, but I doubt that they did. She was on top of me, and she had let her whole weight sink down on me. She only turned her head, but she did not draw away from me, and so she just caressed the whole line of my lips with her own. And then, as she repeated, she let her tongue move lazily, sloppily out of her mouth, and she wet my mouth with her spit.
"Tentatively, I let my mouth open, and I caught the swirling snake of her tongue inside. I didn't do anything, but once she was in my mouth, she closed her eyes and really started going to town!
"I followed in response, and I looked down over her shoulder as felt a thump upon my lower stomach and upper thighs. She was bumping her lower torso against me, already starting the motion that would lead to sex.
"She took my hand and led it to her breast. Greedily I pressed at the boob, encased in a stiff brassiere. I rubbed the end of the cone between my forefinger and index, and I could feel, even through her dress, even through the bra, that the friction was making the nipple erect and hard.
"She pushed up on her hands. One hand did the work of two while the other disappeared behind her. I heard a snap. She shook her body, and the thin dress moved against her. I put my hand on her breast and felt the pounding of her heart inside her chest. 'Mom,' I started to say, but she was frantic with passion. I wanted her to stop, but I couldn't understand why she was doing what she was doing. Even though I had fantasized this for a long time, it was different because she wanted to do it! With me, it had clearly been a fantasy. But I guess the desire is usually repressed in a normal home, and ours was not a normal home, apparently. My desire had got through to her, and vice versa.
"I yanked at her dress. The fabric peeled back over her leg. I saw the rim of her pantie, a cream-white synthetic that completely covered the globe of her buttock. I pressed my thumb into the center of the hillock. She pushed her stomach against the underside of my penis. The head jammed against my belly. I was sweating. The blood pumped up against gravity.
"Deftly she freed my prick. Her cotton dress slithered against my body as she moved down. She grabbed a pocket of flesh above my belly button and smoothed it with her hand before pushing her mouth over it and taking a wet bite of the solid muscle. Her fingertips played with the pubic hair above the rising of my cock, and one finger moved down below the genital to force the testes to opposite sides of the juice bag.
"I had expected heat to envelop my member, but instead the inside of her mouth hit the pole like solid ice. Every sensation of pressure and contact was intensified by the bath inside her mouth. Her inner cheek rolled over the tube, and then she brought the edges of enamel against it. She pushed her head far forward on it, until the cock pointed at the edge of her throat. Mom coughed when the prick almost choked her. Her tongue swept against the underside of the prick, and, as she moved back, she folded her fingers around the dong as if to whack me off. Instead, she just squeezed. 'I can feel the blood inside you. It's fighting me,' she said. 'I can feel it, too,' I laughed, and I blushed. I didn't have much time to feel the appropriate shame, however.
"She had gone under the prick, and now she took the bag inside her mouth. She was gentle, careful not to smash the two testicles against each other. She followed the thickening short hairs to the space between my two buttocks. I felt the heat there; it was hot enough to make her fingertip glow with the warmth of the anus.
"With her thumb, she pulled the foreskin all the way down, and she washed the glans with the tip of her tongue. The tongue followed the cleft in the head of the penis. The "flabby tissue pushed against the slit itself, and a burning sensation spread through the whole instrument as the guppy mouth opened wide at the pressure. She took her tongue away, and a drop of come burst out and scalded me.
"She pushed back and stood on her knees. My legs were spread wide, and she was between them. She leaned forward as she undid her blouse. She had unleashed the bra before, and her breasts seemed to pour out of their containers.
"The tits were already erect. She turned her hands so that her palms were up, and then she held her breasts in them, one in each hand. Her wrists almost touched the brown areolas. She supported them so that I could see how full they were. She got up off the bed and slipped out of her skirt. Then I could see her beaver hair through her panties. It was thick, like moss growing on the side of a building. A few thin, paler hairs were woven onto the inside of her thighs, which were strong and even muscular-mom did a lot of exercising at a women's gym.
"She did not get down on the bed to undress me. 'Listen, Howard,' she said as she started to undo the buttons of my shirt. 'I can't help this. We both knew instinctively that this would happen. It can't happen again. But we have to let it out of our system, or it would drive us crazy. We'll never do it again-but we'll do it this afternoon.' She didn't even look at my face as she spoke. Her tone was slow and deliberate, no longer passionate. It was like it took a trance to get her in this situation, but once it happened, she could be cool, calm, and collected.
"Then I knew I could let myself go. Up till then, I had waited, pretending I wasn't enjoying it, or at least not letting mom see that I was. I pushed my stomach up, and my behind left the bed. The side of my prong jabbed her cheek, and again she took the prick in her hand and led it to her waiting lips. He tongue stroked the side of the organ, and she pulled down on my skin. She dug her teeth into the foreskin as it strained flat just below the head. She ground her teeth lightly over the skin, and I felt the end of the cock twitch and rustle against the tissue of her upper palate.
"Her fingers crawled under the waist of my jeans and she pulled my pants down below my butt. The tug took my undershorts along, and now my cock stood up among the bed of pubic hairs, glossy with my sweat. I smelled, too, smelled like sweat and sex-and there was even a third odor, something rancid.
"'Oh, mom-' I said, breathing deep and not really knowing that I was talking until the words came out. I felt the air against my penis as she withdrew her mouth and looked up at me. My slickened member pointed straight up, parallel with her cheek. 'Don't call me mother-not now. Call me Jennifer.' Her eyes were misted, and she seemed a million miles away.
"Before I could say anything in response, I felt the heat of her cunt lips as she rubbed her beaver over the skin of my thigh. She was greased with lubricating fluid. I started to move up and reach for her box, but I hesitated. It was like I was scared to touch her, there. Mother must have known what I was feeling, because she straddled herself over my left leg. She leaned forward. The uneven tracing of her labia meshed with the hairs and skin. My eyes went to that space, and I stared greedily. She took my fingers and pressed her thumb into the backs of my knuckles. I stiffened the digits as I poked them at the hairy folds. She was smooth and soft, and they were a bright pink. I found the clitoris easily. It pushed up, inflated, like the bud of a pink rose. My forefinger slipped below it into the hole. The walls of the twat gripped the finger, and I could hardly move it. inside.
"She was damp, and her muscle control had me bound. She'd closed her eyes, and her tongue moistened her lips. I caught a flash of her perfect white teeth. She inhaled. The breath, as it went down her throat, was like the movement of wind in a forest.
"She tapped my other finger, and I tried to fit that one inside her. The muscles of her vagina relaxed, and I got inside her and started to pump her. The walls closed in, but they got wetter with each stroke. She brought her legs closer together around my leg, and then I felt her bear down so that her clit would get the pressure and friction of my thigh. She clamped in, and her cunt dilated, so that my two finger-bones were left inside a wet vacuum.
"She raised herself up. Her breasts wobbled, and as in a dream I reached up to rub my fingertips, wet with her juicy pussy, over the brown circle of her areola.
"'Easy,' she said, and she removed a drop of come from the head of my phallus and rubbed it into the other erect nipple. Her other hand ran over her stomach, covering her navel for a second. She thrust her pud out against my leg, then put her finger, wet with my semen, into her mouth, and licked it clean.
"She let herself down, and I felt her slightly curved stomach over my own belly. My cock went under her pubic arch, then shot out, just missing the crack between her buttocks.
"She reached around and held the erection in her closed hand. Her knuckles pushed into the soft meat of her ass. I was inexperienced, and I didn't know how to make love to her. I opened my mouth and sought hers. Her tongue was expert, and it made me aware of each sensation my tongue could feel. Her teeth scraped my lips, and she was pressing so hard against my teeth that the gums ached.
"Then she was at my neck. I felt her warm breath before I felt her fingertips dig into the skin there and stretch it. Her tongue bathed the neck in spit, and then she ran her teeth over the curve of my shoulder.
"I held all of one breast in my hand. I couldn't believe the soft texture, half like satin and half like crepe. She filled my hand, and yet I could squeeze the tissue and reduce it to half its volume in an instant. 'Oh, mother,' I began, and then caught myself when her body became stiff. 'Jennifer,' I sighed, and she started to move. 'Jenny,' I said, and she took my dork and aimed it at the mouth of her vagina. I shoved forward and felt myself go inside the cunt. The wrapping was smooth and wet. Instinctively, I put my hand to the hair-covered skin around the opening. I found the clitoris that she had had to lead me to the first time. It was full, like a soft, melting pearl. My finger smashed it against the pubic wires. I pushed up and my ass left the bed. Mother smiled. She covered most of her right boob with her forearm, and I could tell she was rubbing her own nipple. So I squeezed her other breast and watched as the areola went erect with tiny goose pimples.
"Her hands dropped to her sides. I could see she was going to drive herself all the way to her orgasm, even if I wasn't ready yet. I was, though, and it was only self-control that had kept me from coming much earlier, while she was fellating me. Mother closed her eyes and began to run the sides of her vagina up against the stalk. We made a slurping sound as our parts massaged each other. Her breasts bounced more easily than before.
"She made this weird cawing sound as she came, a deep moan from the bottom of her throat, and bit into her lower lip with her upper front teeth."
What kind of person is most likely to find him or herself falling into incestuous situations? In one of the most complete social science studies of this topic, Incest Behavior S. Kirson Weinberg lists three reasons for sexual arousal in family situations: 1) an extreme "endogamic" or intra-family orientation, 2) an indiscriminate promiscuity, and 3) an intense sexual craving for young children.
"The adult endogamic incest participant," he states, "who confines his sexual objects to his family members, resorts to incest ... because he does not cultivate and does not crave social or sexual contacts with women outside the family."
Indeed, it is Weinberg who reopens for study the so-called pathological nature of the act.
Some biologists considered basic biological disturbances which resulted in a state of satyriasis and nymphomania as causative factors in incest. The individual in a satyriasis condition is unable to control his intense sexual excitement and tries to rape or seduce an accessible woman, even a family member.....Krafft-Ebing, however, admits that in the majority of cases of incest, "it is not possible to find a pathologic basis for the act."
Weinberg also discusses at length the conditions within a family that make possible the incest situation. "The family," he writes, "is a social unit with a structure and a culture." And then:
The structure consists of the coles and functions of the members. The culture consists of the members' common attitudes, shared expectations and skills....As an aspect of family culture, sex arises from the attitudes, expectations, and behavior of family members ... These family attitudes toward sex are initially imported into the family by the parents. From family interaction, these attitudes are modified by the experiences of the parents and by the children, who acquire conceptions of sex from outside sources. In some families, ' a loose sex culture evolves; in other families a restrained sex culture develops.
Is incest itself an essentially aggressive phenomenon? To answer that positively we would need to know whether the sexual drive gains in cathectic energy by being directed to another family member, or whether the economics of the cathexes present us with an essentially stable momentum. We have not yet made a case for this, either in theory or in social science data. For the moment, however, it is quite safe to point out the probability that incestuous behavior receives much of its impetus from the aggressive energy created in reaction to the parents. It is possible, of course, that such energy is merely "rebellious" in nature, and that, in indulging in incestuous activity with siblings, one is showing aggressive contempt-indeed, provocation-rather than, for instance, deflated desire.
To return to Weinberg's highly useful study, it is necessary to add that though incest begins in the home, it has effects that reach far beyond the borders of the family. "Incest definitely affects the larger social organization," he notes. Then:
In a non-literate society which is kinship-centered, the effects of incest would be drastic; the dual roles of the family members would create complete confusion for the larger social body. In a large urban society which consists of small conjugal families and which is not kinship-centered, incest would still create havoc in the family and indirectly affect the larger social organization.
The narrative of the boy, Howard, is taken up, in the following pages, and we can begin to see the pattern that emerges in this classic Oedipal situation. Both interviews are taken from the files of a private social-work foundation that deals with family sexual problems-very few of which are, after all, problems of incest.
Bill P was forty-two at the time of the events he relates. What is crucial in introducing his character to the reader-and thus his motives-is his weakness and subservience to the will of his wife. In her own interviews with clinical psychologists, Jennifer P complains about the sexual inadequacy of her husband, and employs that inadequacy as the primary motive for her seduction of her son. Raised in a religious family herself, Jennifer felt proscribed from normal adulterous relations, and was driven instead to search for sexual fulfillment with her only child.
Bill, her husband, tries to explain the "swapping" incidents related in the following testimony by saying his wife encouraged him to watch her and his son make love, and to participate in the events that succeeded the initial voyeurism. Jennifer, his wife, insists that it was Bill who suggested the three-way encounter. There is no way of gauging the truth of either "side" to this argument, and the observer may only study the accounts, all of which at least agree upon the sexual data.
I found that my wife's affair with our son had been going on for a couple of months when I discovered it. I came home from a business trip-I feel like such a fool talking about it, for that's the way it always happens in cartoons and in dirty jokes-and apparently I happened in just as my wife and my son were at the point of climax. I could hear them from downstairs.
"At first, of course, it didn't occur to me that it was Howard and Jennifer. I jumped jealously to the conclusion that my wife was having an affair, but I couldn't conceive that my son was involved with her sexually.
"I ran up the stairs. They didn't hear me, partly because they were so loud in the culmination of their own sexual adventure, and partly because the carpeting on the rug clouded the sound of my shoes as I leaped to the top of the staircase.
"They had brazenly left the door open, and they were in our room-Jennifer's and mine. I could see only Howard's back. I knew instantly that it was a young man, even a teenager, but, of course, I could hardly believe that my wife was having an affair with her sixteen-year-old son.
"Jenny was on the bed, flat on her back. Her legs were spread wide, and our boy was between them, on his knees, bent forward so that his penis could touch the outside of her vagina. She had her fingernails riveted into the flesh at the sides of his waist. She was breathing hard, harder than she had ever done when we were making love. Finally, Howard just fell forward and collapsed above her, though his cock kept pushing inside of her at top speed.
"I left the threshold, unobserved. From then on, I didn't touch my wife. And I spoke to her as little as possible. I had never had much in common with Howard. I had given him up as a sissy long ago. And now he was having intercourse with his mother! I was appalled. I didn't know what to do. This was so much sicker than anything I believed could happen in normal family life. Well, take it from me, I'll bet the only reason the statistics on incest aren't greater than they are is because the taboo is so great. I think there's a whole lot that goes unreported, even to Kinsey and those other sex researchers.
"Jennifer got moodier, and more removed. Curiously enough, as that happened, she also got nicer. She was more considerate of me, less domineering.
"Then one night she told me. I'll never forget the look on her face when she confessed. It was three months or so after I'd found out. I could almost see a miniature of my face reflected in her dark irises. I had not "had" her for all that time. I was so upset that I'd not sought out other women. And, to be truthful, the initial shock had worn off.
"I forgave her. I said she'd have to go to a psychiatrist with Howard, and she agreed. She looked so extraordinarily lovely that I made love to her that night without hesitation.
"But their affair had become a habit, and our reconciliation had been taken by Jennifer as proof of instant absolution. And she, who had for years teased me with the suggestion that might be a homosexual, now started to intimate that the family that plays together stays together.'
"She had become much more passionate than I'd ever known her to be before. At night, when we'd go to bed, she'd want to make love all night long. And she was so energetic and so skillful that she elicited performance after performance from me. I was growing addicted to the sex we had. For instance, she'd never fellated me in all the years we had been married, until after she started making love to our son.
"Of course, by then we were already swapping. She'd make love with Howard in the afternoon and then with me in the evening. We even started going to bed earlier, before the good TV programs were over!
"At night she would tell me, sometimes, about her sexual activities with Howard. I couldn't help what was happening to me. I was becoming titillated. One night, when she started talking about his cock, and how he would drive the spike-that was the word she used for it, spike-into one wall and then the other, swooping out in a single stroke, making her grab for it, to reinsert it in her vagina, I found myself getting aroused. I had admitted to myself that I was excited by their perversity, but I'd thought that was just the voyeuristic element Of seeing someone doing it with my own wife. But now I had to realize I was curious-sexually curious-about Howard.
"I started to watch him. He was a handsome little boy. He was little. Delicate. It was hard to know how to relate to him. He was unquestionably effeminate. He flung his hips around when he walked, and he struck hand-on-hip poses. His voice was fairly normal, though, and he didn't sound like a fag.
"While I studied him, I avoided him. I'd never had a homosexual experience in my life, though I suspected at the time that Howard had.
"On this one particular night, I walked up the stairs around ten in the evening. Howard was leaning against the doorway of the master bedroom his mother and I shared. Their bodies were just barely touching. I tried to walk casually past them, to the bathroom, to prepare for bed. Jennifer was already in her nightgown, which was sheer and pink, so that you could see the whole line of her body through it.
"But Jennifer put her arm up, wrapped it around my shoulder, and drew us into a tight little circle. She put my other hand around Howard's waist. I was getting aroused, but at first she just pretended that we were any happy little family. As if by some prearranged signal, I watched my son's delicate hand undo the front of my wife's nightdress, and my penis surged with blood as I saw her nudity-shared her nudity with my own son!
"We were all so close now that, when Howard's prick came out of the flap of his pajama bottoms, I felt it rustle across the front of my thigh, still covered by my trousers. Jennifer's hands went for our members, and she pulled us closer toward each other, until the heads smashed. Howard's was already wet with come. I was surprised at the size of his cock. It was as big as mine.
"Jennifer put her hands on my shoulders and, spreading her legs, she wrapped them around mine. I would have had to support her, but that was being taken care of by my son.
"She forced her breast into my mouth. I licked the texture of the frozen nipple. Howard's hand had her other jug cupped in it, and he was squeezing it until the tit became rigid. Jennifer was on me like an animal, humping my leg with her crotch. Even through my trouser leg I felt the heat, though I didn't realize how wet she was until I pushed my palm up against the beaver. My forefinger slipped down the labia, and I pushed a fingerful of the sheer nightgown into the hole.
"Howard's hand took my zipper. My penis leaped out of the pants. Jenny slid off my knee and kneeled on the floor. She bent the rod to her mouth. Howard crouched at my side. Once my wife's mouth was on my dong, I shut my eyes and started to run my fingers through her hair, massaging her scalp.
"She drew her mouth away, and in the next moment her tongue-I thought it was her tongue was curling around the tube, brushing gingerly at the underside of the shaft. I felt a hand on my scrotum, yanking on it, and I knew instantly that it was my son's hand and not my wife's. A spasm went through my stomach. Perhaps it was a reaction of disgust, but in the seconds that followed, as Howard took his mouth away and started to pull and push the skin up and down the pole, I was only anxious that he jack me off faster and fester. When, on his knees, he stuck his head between my legs, the belt of my undone trousers lazily across his shoulder, his teeth were rough. It was like he was trying to saw me down. But the thrill as he puckered his lips and sucked in on the stem made my nuts ache.
"But it was Jennifer who was taking care of that department. Her tongue swept the testes apart. She rolled the tongue tip up against the buried part of the stalk. She grabbed my naked ass and squeezed the muscles. Her fingernails were like tiny knives. She drew blood in a couple of spots, and she merely rolled the red fluid into the ass flesh.
"'Come on,' said Jennifer, "let's all go to bed.' She was breathing heavily, and her voice was like smoke. She rose and started into the other room.
Her buttocks shook as she half ran across the carpeted floor of the large bedroom. She threw herself down on the bed. I stepped out of my pants and followed Howard inside. Howard raised his arms and threw off his top as he walked. He stood by the bed for a half second, then bent down and removed his loose-fitting bottoms. He was naked, as was Jennifer. They turned to each other, and his large prick was hidden in her belly as they shoved themselves close to each other.
"My heart was pounding. I undressed quickly, ripping a button off my shirt in the process, I was so impatient. When I was naked, I looked down at my flabby belly and thighs with something like embarrassment, because my wife was so young-looking and my boy so lean.
"I got in bed on Jennifer's side. I couldn't admit to myself that I wanted to make it with Howard. I grabbed her around the stomach and pressed my fingers into her belly. Howard jammed forward and filled her with his prick. She hadn't been ready, though, because she winced with the pain. She was slow, but after a few of his strokes I could watch her buttocks flex from behind. I half felt like an intruder. I didn't know what I should be doing, a problem Jennifer solved when she shoved her butt crack against the end of my dork and grabbed the shaft, aiming it between the muscular cheeks.
"I shoved them apart. I pushed the cock inside, and the cheeks closed in on it. I felt the warmth radiating from her anus. She turned her head and tongue-kissed my neck. I held her breast in my hand, and she put her hand over mine and squeezed me in satisfaction. 'In,' she said, and I slammed myself against the thing.
"I didn't see her do it, but she must have reached inside her quim and taken some of the moisture from the walls, because now her fingers were dancing over the dome of the penis. Thus lubricated, I came inside of her with two hard shoves. 'Oh!' she exclaimed, with either pleasure or pain-or both. I was surprised that it was as easy as that, violating her from the rear. When I realized that she must have been doing that with our son, the thought excited me, and I began to grunt as I pushed, one inch at a time, deeper into her rectum-until, very soon, I could go no further, and I was lucky to keep the prick's head in there as I counter-stroked.
"Her ass cheeks seemed to slide away from me as she moved her pelvis to her son. She was whimpering now. Her fingers dug into his small biceps. Her asshole was dry, and it felt rough against my engine. I put my hands around her and smashed her breasts to her chest. Her rich nipples erected against my ticklish palm. She covered my hands with her own and made me rub her there.
"It was hard to establish a rhythm in her anus. I wasn't used to fucking on my side. Jennifer was far along, as was Howard. He was grunting, and his chest was coated with perspiration. Jenny's head snapped on her shoulders, and I could see her lips, glossy with the spittle of her own tongue. The center of her lower lip was discolored with the pressure of her teeth as she bit into it.
"'Oh, both of you ... ' she mumbled to herself. 'Both of you ... oh, yes ... yes, yes!' And she was off. Her frantic movement against my covered cock sent me off, and I didn't move, just nestled there, as she came. Howard moved back, as though he were bending over backwards, to shove his prick deeper into his mother. The pulse of the spending cream moved his torso. The violence of Jennifer's hips dislodged me from my tenuous occupation of her anus, and my white goo came off on the inside track of her buttocks.
"I rolled over on my back. I could hardly breathe. Gradually, my heart stopped pounding. I felt like I would never come again. I had lover's nuts, that feeling that your testicles are steel balls of infinitely compacted volume.
"But Jennifer was stirring on the bed. She spread her legs wide and stationed her muff just above my mouth. I looked up and saw her full breasts rising and falling with each breath. I stuck my tongue against her clitoris, which was soggy with cream. My son's sperm, already dripping from the box! It was hot and sweet. It coated my tongue and the insides of my cheeks with a heavy film. I had only tasted come twice before; once when I was a boy-and tasted it, a dab of it, with my finger after I'd masturbated, and once when a prostitute had asked me to do it-that was in Germany, just after the war, when I was in the service.
"Her long fingers pressed into the labia at either side of the vagina. I licked the circumference of the slot, and it was also thick with the semen. My upper lip twisted hungrily over her puffy, inflated clitoris. I rubbed the strands of flesh that were closing in on the sides of my mouth. I tried to suck in on the cunt flesh, and Jennifer put her hands on the bedpost behind me. She was rolling her vagina over my mouth in circular turns, alternately soft-just barely touching my lips and mouth, and making me come up, as if for air-and hard, where she smacked her privates tight against my mouth, so I could only breathe through my nostrils.
"She put one hand behind her and spread her cheeks apart again, but this time it was Howard who filled her there, pushing a couple of fingers into the spot I'd vacated and moistened with my orgasm.
"I felt his lips on my stomach. They were dry, puckered, and his mouth was closed. Slowly he opened his mouth, and all I could feel were his teeth. They grabbed a half-inch of flesh and then grated it between their edges. He opened his palm and cupped the scrotum in it, and then he drove the loose sheath-skin up against the base of my hose. He scratched me and yanked the bag, before he dropped his mouth to the bone.
"There was a slight humming in his throat as he took my dork's head into his mouth. I could hear it even above his mother's squeals of satisfaction as I sucked her off. She hit my cheek with her pelvic bone as she tried to force herself deeper into my mouth.
"He had pulled the skin down the prick. His other hand grasped it at the glans and forced the mouth open. He tongued the tiny incision. His mouth closed, and his lips ran dryly down the underside of my penis. I grabbed for his shoulder, but he bucked his head as if to say, 'No, we're going to do this on my terms!'
"He bent the organ from side to side. He gritted his teeth and rubbed the fleshy head against them. He drew his head back and let fly an enormous glob of spit-which burned me as it moved inside the slit.
"When his mouth came down on me, though, it was as if it were molded to take my cock. He held me so tightly that I couldn't have pulled myself from him if I tried. He had his teeth locked around the dick, but they weren't sharp. I just waited for him to do what he would do; I relished this passivity toward my son, this reversal of our usual positions. It was like a dream that I could fall into forever.
"He pulled in and sucked at the blood that was racing up the length of the pole. His hand closed in on the rod just under his lips. He rubbed the topside of the prick with his palate and licked the rounded underside with his tongue. He traced the glans and laced it with saliva. He spread the drops of come that kept leaking from my prick.
"While my tongue concentrated on her clit, I poked my finger inside Jennifer's box. Her hand closed on my wrist, and she drove the digit as far as it would go. She leaned on her waist, toward one side and then the other, so I could stretch the cunt lining by pushing my fingertip into the wet tissue.
"I caressed her jugs with my other hand. I tweaked her nipples between my thumb and forefinger. 'Don't you like it, Bill?' she asked, breathlessly. 'Isn't this great? Isn't it better?' she said as she rolled the pud against my lips, and a single strand of her pubic hair caught between my lower teeth. I pulled my head away, and she squealed as I severed the hair from her pubis. In a moment, though, she was writhing up and down. Her motions had become simpler as she became more excited. Now she would just smear the outside of her twat against my upper lip and dip down and jam it against my chin, for the hard pressure. I curled my finger and directed the clitoris to the tip of my tongue, where I whacked it moistly. Jennifer leaned down and her breasts covered my face. They were as firm as when she'd been a young girl.
"I pushed up off the bed and the cock struck the edge of Howard's throat. My fists were clenched. I was tense and excited. I wanted him to suck me. I turned to my side so that I could reach down to him. My fingers crept under his armpit, and the tips smashed the skin, warm and sweaty, covered by a few strands of long hair.
"He lifted his head off the instrument and cocked his head to one side. The hair cleared from in front of his eyes. He looked up at me, and as his mother jerked her body forward in orgasm, I could look straight into his eyes. I was breathing hard, and I wanted to give Jennifer everything I could with tongue and lips. But when Howard looked at me-just for an instant-I was fascinated by the mixture of love and hate, respect and contempt in his eyes. The eye contact didn't last longer than a second, however, tantalizing as it was. Before he could go down on me again, the pressure of his hand, still gripping the prick, squeezed my own fresh load of come out of my head. The white spray landed on the back of his hand as he pulled the skin down in tight, regular strides, until all of it was released."
Many scholars have noted the relationship of homosexuality to sadomasochism, a factor not absent in the case of Howard, Bill, and Jennifer P-.
Equally interesting, however, is the relation of homosexuality to the incest or, more particularly, the Oedipal situation.
Louis London, in his Abnormal Sexual Behavior (Lancer Books, 1968), deals with a case of the Oedipal syndrome in which there were elements of sadomasochism. Here, as in our own case, there were sexual difficulties in the parental bond. "His father and mother," writes London, "probably lived an inadequate sexual life, as he often heard his mother refer to his father, 'He is not a man.' " London goes on:
"The patient played the role of a real 'mamma's boy.' His mother was his confidante and he always despised his father. When he was small, he often thought of marrying his mother."
Howard, as he tells us in his own narrative, thought of his father as indecisive and subservient to his mother. In short, Bill P-, in his son's eyes, was "not a man." And how did this emerge in the teenager's behavior patterns? Clearly as an "imitation" of his father's "subservient" and "feminine" role with respect to Jennifer.
Both psychoanalytic (that is, Freudian or neo-Freudian) and antipsychoanalytic modes have reversed themselves countless times on the causation of homosexuality. The Freudian position is that it is the result of an identification with the mother, rather than the father, prolonged past the infant period.
The reason for this is stated to be the father's comparatively "unattractive" role in the family, which spurs the child on to this unproductive identification. But I think it may clearly be useful, in the present case, to dwell on the idea that it is precisely an identification with the weak father that creates conditions of homosexuality. We know, for instance, from the testimony that follows, that Howard found his truly satisfying sex-object in his father. He had been titillated with the "swapping" aspect of his sexual relations with his mother because they gave him indirect sexual contact-and emotional camaraderie-with his father.
It may be useful to quote from Freud's study of Leonardo da Vinci in connection with the genesis of the child's understanding of sexuality:
... Many, perhaps most, children, at least the most gifted ones, go through a period beginning with the third year, which may be designated as the period of infantile sexual investigation. As far as we know, this curiosity is not awakened spontaneously in children of this age. It is aroused through the impression of an important experience, through the birth of a little brother or sister ... wherein the child sees a danger to his own egotistic interests. The investigation directs itself to the question whence children come, as if the child were looking for means to guard against such an undesired event....The child refuses to give credence to the information imparted to it; thus it rejects the mythological and ingenious stork-fable ... its psychic independence dates from this act of disbelief. ... Guided by the feelings of its own sexuality, the child formulates for itself theories about the origin of children ... but as his own sexual constitution is not yet equal to the task of producing children, his investigation whence children come must also run aground and be left in the lurch as unfinished. The impression of this failure at the first attempt of intellectual independence seems to be of a persevering and profoundly depressing nature.
We return now to the narrative of Bill P-:
"I watched as my wife crossed the room and went into the bathroom. I heard the running of water. She was cleaning herself, douching. I couldn't bring myself to look Howard in the eye, but in the periphery of my vision I could tell that he was looking straight at me. He was smiling, a tight, bitter, satisfied smile. He followed Jennifer into the bathroom, and I heard him gargle.
"When they returned, Jennifer went to the door and said, 'I have to get something downstairs. I'll fix us something to eat.' She flashed Howard a knowing smile.
"Howard approached me with the grace of a cat. His penis was erect and stiff. It did not shake as he walked. He rested his hand at its base, as a gun-fighter might fiddle with his pistol's handle. He raised one knee and settled on the bed; he flopped forward. His head was even with mine, and he looked into my eyes. I started to turn my head away, but his fingers pressed to the base of my skull, and he kept me there for a second while his tongue washed my lips clean of his mother's lubricating fluid. I could taste the sweet heaviness of my semen under the disguise of the mint mouthwash. I opened my eyes to watch him.
His facial expression was almost tender. But his small hand had already grabbed my tired cock. He pushed up on his palm and pinched his lips together, taking my nipple between them. His teeth were vicious as they sucked it into hard erection. He flicked my testicles together and apart, and the side of his finger rubbed the purple glans. Tentatively, I put my arms around him. He sent his shoulders back as though to rid himself of the chains of my embrace, and I lamely put them at my sides while I waited for his next move.
"He was on his knees. My cock had come to full size, and he rolled the end of the shaft against his loose scrotal bag. He took his hand away and pushed his cock forward. It just missed mine the first time, but in a moment the two pricks were like battling serpents. He laughed as he chased my prick to one angle and then another, and I panted as my head swished through his pubic hair, which was like silk against my exposed glans.
"His hands came under me and forced my pelvis closer to his; to help him, I pushed up on my heels. I wanted to grab my own cock and whip the skin around it until I came, but I waited, thinking Howard would manipulate me soon. He separated my ass cheeks, and then he forced the length of his prick between them. He did not approach the ring with the cock, but his fingers had crawled in toward the asshole. I squirmed as he pulled apart the folds of the sphincter. Now he moved back, resting his butt on his heels, and tried to lift me further up off the bed. He leaned back and tried to aim the prick at my virgin hole. One shove scorched the opening with pain. Another seemed to tear the skin there. But he took my cock and began to roll his thumb over the foreskin, just below the glans, on the flattened side of the shaft, and the pleasure of the friction there distracted me from the pain in my asshole.
"I felt the pressure of his fingertips against the small of my back. I opened my eyes and realized he was trying to pull me toward him, but he wasn't strong enough. I helped him by surging forward, guessing what he wanted me to do.
"My legs were spread-eagled, my knees even with his hipbones as he lay under me. He wrenched my cock down from its upturned angle, and he pulled my left buttock to the side. His behind left the bed. In the astride position, I waited for the long pecker to float between my cheeks and then break down the door to my rectum.
"I sat down on it. It swept between the buns until it touched the bung. I swiveled down. With effort, he pushed the head inside. He was biting into his lips, and the skin around his eyes was tightened. I grabbed held of the base and squeezed it, forcing my thumb against the flattened side. Howard put his hand at the sides of my chest, and his thumbs rubbed my small nipples, which became cold and erect at his touch. I arched my spine and thrust my flat breasts against his hand. I licked my lips when his fingernails scratched me. His prick burned the first few inches of my bung. He cupped his hands over my shoulders and tried to force me down further and harder. Two spasms of pain rocked my stomach. I was sure I was bleeding.
"He took one hand and forced my cock against my crotch. He rubbed it into the bush of pubic hair, and he turned the skin around the tube as if sifting it. He was quicker, and he started to breathe fast. He lay on his back, still jacking me off, but he let go as soon as the come started spurting out of me, and I tried to slam my ass further down his cock. He was thrusting his pelvis up, and I felt him fill my rectum with the dork, then the hot liquid shot up and poured down the tight orifice's walls.
"Jennifer came in just as the bedsprings had stopped creaking with our orgasms. She had a percolator full of coffee and some pastries arranged. The way she held the tray, it covered her nipples, and from where I was sitting, still drilled to my son's cock, I couldn't see her bush, though she was naked.
"We ate and drank in silence. I noted with interest that Howard's pecker never lost its stiffness, and this was not lost on Jennifer. But now she seemed to be willing to give me my turn at sex.
"She seemed uninterested in the coffee she'd poured herself. 'Okay, baby,' she said to Howard, 'now it's daddy's turn. You just sit there and watch.' Howard was obedient.
"My penis had dwindled to a small limp hose. She grabbed it and my scrotum at the same time, and I felt her palm push against the testicles inside. She scratched the skin that went under my legs, toward the anus. Even the pressure as she pulled the bag was painful because of the act we'd just completed, Howard and I.
"She went down on me. It was as though she were trying to tickle the prick into new life. She pulled the skin back with her fingers and wiped the glans with the edge of her tongue, and that started to do the job. She squeezed down on the flabby cock, and the blood started to pulse up. I was sore from coming twice, but in degrees the angle became wider, and the prick was rising out of my belly.
"Her mouth had soaked me all the way down the shaft, and the scrotum was glossy with her saliva. I looked across the room at our son. His hand was working the skin of his penis. He looked at us with eyes glazed. His breathing was louder than our own, and after a while he stopped masturbating himself, waiting, apparently, for the climax of our lovemaking, so that he could come with us.
"'Eat me,' said Jennifer, and I twisted my body under her, pulling my dork out of her mouth.
When I got ready to go down on her, she had turned over on her stomach. Her back and behind were a hump; she'd gathered her knees under her and was pushing up. Her legs were spread wide, and I could see the tawny beaver hair through the angle. I ducked my head between her legs, and my nose poked inside the anal crack. I licked at the threads of labial flesh until my spit dulled the taste of her pungent, salty twat-lips.
"As her body began to shake, I had to move my tongue faster and faster up the flesh around the slot. I slammed my palms on her ass cheeks, and as I raised my head, my tongue slid into the space between. I wiped her sphincter with it, and she moaned, thrusting her buttocks hard against the bones of my hand. When I'd wet the ring, I blew on it. 'That burns,' she groaned, but when I bobbed my head and stuck my tongue where it had been, on her clit, she begged me to lick her asshole again. Soon I was nodding my head, jerking it, really, so that my tongue moved across the swath of hair and moist flesh and then over the tight asshole.
"She pushed up on one hand and pushed on my shoulder with the other, but she didn't change her position. I knew she wanted me to mount her right there. I curled my thumbs into the inner rims of the butt cakes, taunting her with the friction. 'No ... no ... not there!' she moaned as I touched the now wet rectum.
"But I was through teasing her quickly enough. I gripped the fronts of her thighs with my fingers and pulled her legs further apart. I let my ass down on my heels and then leaned back, so that I could shoot the prick straight up her gooey snatch.
"She was so wet I slipped inside her in one stroke. The clammy walls constricted as she grunted, and I couldn't tell whether the tightening was voluntary or involuntary. I rested my chin on her shoulder, and looked into her face. It was vague with the pleasure she felt and the mindless compulsion to get more, now that I was in her, fucking her. My head made its way almost to her womb, so excellent was the position for penetration.
"The sides of the cunt relaxed, and now I swept a foaming layer of sticky film with each new stroke. My hands had been supporting her thick, lazy breasts, but now they moved to grip her stomach as she became weak. 'Help me,' she muttered. I had my forearms under her thighs, and my fingers reached up to force the stomach muscles tighter.
"I saw Howard out of the corner of my eye. He was leaning against the wall. He wasn't steady; it was as though he were drunk. I guess that was because he was beating off. His mouth was wide open, and he was gasping for breath. His other hand had been at his side, but now he brought it to his naked belly, and he started to knead the flat tissue of his stomach; his ass still next to the wall, he let himself slide down. At last he was huddled, his buttocks fitting into the angle of floor and wall.
"His mother fell forward onto the bed, and I started to deliver the last few strokes with my rod, bursting with the blood that was forcing the semen to come out in huge hot flakes, until my thrusts were so wide that I slipped out and dropped the last of my seed in the bed. I felt a column of flesh brush the back of my thigh, and then a gush of fluid, and I realized it was Howard, spending on my leg."
CHAPTER FOUR
Mother-Daughter Swap
"I suppose it was Tricia's age which disturbed me the most. I was very young when I gave birth to her, only eighteen. I hardly knew what sex was about then. I had got hot with Frank one night and let him have me. Oh, I thought it was sheer pleasure when he rammed his stiff cock into my slickened pussy. But a month later, when I realized that I was pregnant, I lost most of my desire for sex. Frank married me, of course, but it was years before I had a good orgasm again.
"Now here was my lithe blonde daughter, only seventeen and as sexually sophisticated as a mature woman. It shocked me to find out. But of course that was not all that shocked me. It was discovering the real identity of her lover that threw me for the loop.
"Perhaps I should start from the beginning to make things clearer. My pregnancy with Tricia totally withered my sexual appetite. I let Frank have his pleasure, but it meant nothing to me. I was cold as a fish. Each night before I went to bed I 'greased' my cunt with Vaseline to make certain that it didn't hurt. I never raised so much as a whimper of desire for Frank for years.
"I thought that was the natural state of affairs. It didn't bother me, and Frank, so long as he could expel his nightly load of juice inside my quim, didn't seem to notice my lack of passion. But when we moved to this area, something happened to change my mind about sex. It started very slowly.
"I was new in the neighborhood, and none of the women had come over to greet me as I had expected. One day I read in the local paper that the women's club was having a meeting. I summoned my courage and went to the club uninvited. I told the lady at the door who I was, and she said she was glad that I had come. She introduced me to all the women there, but only one of them had the courtesy to strike up a conversation later. Zelda was dark-skinned with a slight build, not petite but slender to the point of being thin. At first I didn't pay much attention to her body; I was just so pleased to have found at least one friend in this new and inhospitable town. I can't tell you how happy it made me, and I quickly became very thick with her. I suppose I should have been more on my guard, but if others in the town knew of Zelda's 'unnatural' propensity they were too unfriendly to tell me. We began to see each other frequently. Almost every day she would drop by my house or I would visit her. We went out to lunch and shopped and did all the things that housewives spend their time at.
"Very quickly Zelda began to confide in me. First it was about her children, but then it was about her sexual life. She told me how unhappy she was and how cruel her husband was to her. He had other women, so she said, and sometimes she would not see him for days as he spent his time with one of his many mistresses. I believed everything she said and still do, but I never realized what she was prepping me for. Many was the time she would repeat her sad story and tell its most recent episode, finally breaking into tears and throwing her arms about me, sobbing on my shoulder. At first I was startled by this uninhibited show of emotion, but I became used to the feel of her arms about my body, and I found a strange physical pleasure in soothing her, petting her long lean back and stroking her hair until calm returned to her face and she was able to go on with her miserable life.
"It was then that I began to notice how lovely Zelda's body was. It delighted me to see her walk, sit and cross her long legs. Without examining the bases for my new curiosity, I began to wonder how she would look undressed, in the nude. But, despite my growing desire for her, it was Zelda who made the first outright move.
"We were at her house one afternoon, up in her bedroom. I was watching her try on some new clothes that she had purchased. She glided about the room in her slip, her tight little ass wiggling as she paraded back and forth before the mirror.
"Suddenly she turned from the mirror and caught me staring wistfully at her body. She sensed my fascination, and, sitting down beside me, she looked into my eyes.
"'You know, Maggie, I don't know what I would do if it weren't for you.' I watched her lips move as she spoke. They were moist and glossy with saliva. It was as if she were yearning for me to kiss her. 'I feel as if I should do more, come even closer to you than I am.' I didn't think about what she was leading up to, I was so transfixed by the tempting beauty of her face. 'I want you to feel me, Maggie, feel my body.' She was serious, and she pulled the strap of the slip off her shoulder, tugging at the flimsy bra until her swelling tit burst free, the dark red nipple hardening as it hit the cool air. Zelda took my hand and placed it on her firm breast, pressing my fingers against the hot skin of her lovely chest until her warmth seemed to flow directly into my body. 'Don't be afraid, feel me as if I were a man. I am yours if only you want me.'
"I realized suddenly my own need for physical gratification, the years that I had gone without the sexual thrill, denied myself the love that I needed. Now, in a moment, all that had gone before became clear. My love for Zelda bloomed in an instant, and I pressed my lips against hers. She forced her tongue into my mouth as she gently dragged me down upon the mattress.
"In a minute Zelda had wriggled out of her under-things. Her warm lean body pressed against my own, massaging my tender flesh through my clothes. Her fingers worked diligently undoing my things, and I gladly acquiesced as she slipped my garments off. When I was naked we rubbed our bellies together, the slickness returning to my barren crotch for the first time in years. I felt like a full human being once again, remembering that first and distant time when I had known the thrill of orgasm. I had forgotten, but now with Zelda's caress I was remembering all that the body had to offer. Her hand slipped between my legs and began to massage my cunt as her mouth slipped over my full ripe teat, suckling upon it as a man would. I felt no shame that one of my own sex was arousing my body to its full quotient of lust. Eagerly I spread my legs and let her fingers invade my hot running twat, her nails lightly scratching the soft membranes of my slot until my entire pubis burned with the lovely pain of desire. Quickly Zelda shifted her position so that her mouth came close to the orifice, while suddenly her legs spread and revealed the soft moist lips of her own love nest. I did nothing, concentrating on my box as Zelda slipped her tongue between the silken folds and began to lap at my glowing clit. Her sensuous taster drove me to such fury that I could not lie still any longer. My fingers separated her rosy flaps and I pressed my face against her scorching cunt, tasting the fertile juices which teemed inside. We rocked back and forth together for several minutes, the power of orgasm building inside until I began to come with such emotion that I could not catch my breath. The shaking thrill of lesbian love overwhelmed my body. I felt Zelda tremble as similar release overcame her. Together we clutched each other until the last quiet ember of passion had subsided.
"That afternoon had shown us how easy it was. We had no doubts, no regrets, and our newfound physical desire increased our need to be together. From then on we were almost inseparable. I never thought of going anywhere but that I would call up Zelda to see if she would go along. And if, by chance, she had something else to do I felt as slighted as any lover stricken by uncontrollable jealousy.
"My daughter Tricia was fifteen at that time, and she was around many times when Zelda dropped in in the afternoon, came up to my bedroom, and we locked the door for a bout of love. I don't know how I thought our love affair could have gone on unnoticed. Soon we were the favorite subject of gossip in the entire town, but I knew nothing of it. I knew only that I had once again found the source of pleasure that my marriage and, particularly, Tricia had taken from me.
"Not that I began to hate my husband. On the contrary, the more I loved Zelda the more I came to enjoy having sex with Frank. At first he didn't seem to notice the difference, but then I could tell that he saw he was pleasing me, and he began to make a greater effort to seduce me. No longer did I have to grease my cunt before going to bed. The touch of his hand produced an immediate lubrication of my erotic channel, and the heat began to grow. I don't know if it was because I would fantasize on Zelda while he made love to me or not. But in time I did not need to fantasize at all. I had just found myself the sensuous woman. I became more attractive, and Zelda noticed that my love for my husband had increased along with my love for her.
"For a while she said nothing, but she began to grow jealous of the fact that I stayed with Frank. Her husband was still living the same way, playing around. Zelda wanted me with her all the time. The same jealousy that I held for her she held for me, but she had nothing to modify her passion, no children, no husband to speak of. She began to demand that I go away with her for weekends, and began to hint about how nice it would be if I left Frank and moved in with her. I couldn't tolerate such talk from her and I told her so. But it was an obsession with her. She knew, I guess, that she was losing me.
"It was more than her demands. The gossip had grown to intolerable proportions. Frank, though I don't think he ever believed a word of it, began to comment about things he had overheard at the locker room of the country club. He passed them on to me and suggested kindly whether it was wise if I continued to see Zelda on such a constant basis.
"I had to chose between my intense love for Zelda and my life. I was fearful of the social pressures, and equally fearful that one day Zelda would talk me into giving up my family for the life of a lesbian outcast. I had to chose, and the choice was not easy.
"I remember so clearly the afternoon that I told her of my decision. She was due over at my house at two, but at one I retired to my bedroom, distraught and excited at the same time. I disrobed and flopped down upon my bed, my hands roving down to the cleft between my firm thighs and stroking the silken slash I knew would never know Zelda after this day. For an hour I masturbated, dreaming of her fine tight body, her taut belly pressing against mine, her teeth nibbling at my gushing flower. I climaxed several times from the memory of her hot tongue up my vaginal canal, and I waited anxiously as I heard Tricia let her in the front door. I listened to her soft footsteps as she climbed the stairs to my room.
"I was determined to tell her right away, so that she too would know that this was our last time and could savor every moment of it. But when she entered, she was so beautiful, that the fire in my belly raged out of control and my lust got the better of my judgment. Quickly she tore the clothes from her body and knelt beside the bed, running her hand over my body. She pressed her lips around my hot nipple, culling the warm sensitized piece of teat into her mouth until her abundant saliva poured over it and I trembled with the thrill of her womanly caress. She shoved her hands underneath my back and rolled me over, climbing onto the bed as she did. Her mouth dived for my tight anal crack. Her tongue shot out and lay down a layer of saliva from the top down to the fetid tingle of my bunghole. I could feel her mouth creeping down between my legs to the hairy twat. Her teeth bit into the soft trembling folds of my labia, and I trembled as her tongue shot out, penetrating my Sapphic gates to the frond of pleasure within. I sighed as she sucked away upon my quim, the juices pouring into her mouth. Madly I reached out and, shoving my finger into her own mousetrap, pulled her entire frame upon the bed as she moaned from the brutal delight. Together we rocked back and forth, moving ourselves into fever pitch until I felt my hive exploding with woman's come and Zelda's teeth sinking deep into the soft flesh of my thigh, bringing sumptuous pain to my body.
"As her firm bite relaxed and the last rush of liquid trickled from my trench, I strained against the pleasurable torpor that overcame my body. I wanted to brace myself and tell her then that we could see each other no more. But just as I was about to blurt it out, she leaped from the bed with renewed energy and a broad smile of satisfaction on her face. Her pubic bush was sodden with the mixture of my saliva and her cunt oils. The shiny tangle of hairs caught my eye, and while I stammered the first word of my announcement she pranced across the room to her pocketbook.
"'Zelda,' I blurted out, 'it's time. I have to talk to you.' But Zelda didn't hear what I had to say. Instead, when her willowy naked body whipped around, she was holding a long plastic object. It took me a moment to realize what it was, but as she raised the phallic substitute to her face, her eyes gleaming with lust, and slipped it between her moist lips, I forgot what I had to say. I wanted her. I wanted her to thrust it inside my chasm.
"'Isn't it beautiful, Maggie?' she said, running her hand down the soft smooth dildo. 'I've always dreamed, but I never dared to buy one. You're pleased, though? Aren't you? Yes. Yes. Yes, I can tell.'
"There was nothing I could say, but my expression told all. I held out my arms as Zelda approached the bed. Quickly she strapped the instrument to her flat belly, the straps cutting sharply into the firm flesh of her backside. With the large plastic penis sticking erect from her crotch she was a vision of obscene loveliness.
"Zelda knelt upon the bed, her small pointed tits bursting with passion as she leaned forward and gently pushed my thighs apart. Her eyes bored into my frothy open slash, and, without taking the time for any foreplay, she pressed the firm tip of the false prick against me and shoved it deep into my burning hive. I was overcome, and I sucked her in as I would a man's organ. She moved in and pulled out until my cunt was a seething pot, and my lubrication ran dripping out from around the hard-driving plastic cock. As she moved back and forth, the tiny end of the dildo which fit just inside her own narrow box did its work, and I watched the wrenching pleasure of her own climax spread across her face like agony. When we were done we lay exhausted upon the bed, the warm sticky fluids of our lovemaking oozing between my thighs and onto the mattress. I knew that I had to tell her then. I couldn't go on with such an affair. There was no way it would work.
"'Zelda, this can't go on. People are talking. Frank is suspicious. What am I supposed to do?' I was pleading with her. She knew how much I needed her affection, how I longed for her love. She had me if she wanted, but I was asking her to let me go.
"
"Why should they matter? Maggie, you're being silly. We have all we need with just the two of us. Why don't you come away with me? We can survive, we can make love like this day after wonderful day, without men, without all the sham and hypocrisy that they force upon us. I know a place where we would be welcomed, where there are others like ourselves who want to be free with their love.'
"'Stop it!' I cried. 'I can't! I can't! What do you expect of me?' I regret now that I was so hard on her. But her pleading was too enticing. I was ready to leave that very day, to forget Tricia, Frank, and all the rest and run away to this sapphic playground she spoke of. I had to throw her out.
"'Leave me alone!' I shouted at her, and I grabbed her hair, yanking it and pulling her off the bed. She fell to the floor with a thud. I sat up and started kicking her, viciously, in her belly and against her full tender breasts. She didn't move at first, but as my blows grew harder and quicker she tried to get away. At last she stood up, backing off to the far side of the room with a look of horror on her face I will never forget.
"'God damn you, Maggie!' she cried, and, forgetting her under things, pulled on her sweater and skirt and ran from the room. I could hear her first sobs as she ran down the stairs and out the door.
"The door to my bedroom was still open, but I didn't bother to close it. Still naked, I lay back upon the mattress and picked up the slender plastic prick still sticky with love. Slowly I started to fondle it, and as I closed my eyes to dream of Zelda, tawny and naked, I brought the dildo down to the open wound between my legs and gingerly inserted it into the vaginal passage. My ravaged walls welcomed the contact, and soon my hands were guiding the shaft back and forth with vigorous strokes, stimulating the solitary orgasm.
"But just at the moment of climax I heard a noise which made me sit upright. It was Tricia, my dear darling sweet Tricia, standing in the doorway! She was not horrified, not frightened by what
