The Incest Generation
by Andre Roberts


INTRODUCTION 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I then stated: 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A prominent psychiatrist recently bemoaned: 

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

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

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

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

 CASE ONE 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I even helped Mabel do the dishes that evening. 

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

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

"Glad to be of assistance." 

"Thank you, dear." 

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

She walked into the den. 

"Where are you going?" I asked. 

"Just going to watch a little television." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Why tonight more so than any other night?" 

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

"Yes, you're certainly hard." 

"You're damned right I am." 

"You sound very intense." 

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

"I suppose it does," she nodded. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"O.K., fine." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"O.K.. dear, sorry." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A few seconds later she announced: 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Well, make it fast." 

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

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

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

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

"But I need some release, honey." 

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

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

"What are you so uptight about, dear?" 

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

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

"I suppose you would." 

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

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

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

"I guess not." 

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

"O.K., I will." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You really are in a sarcastic mood." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Who's dead?" 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Oh yes, I will." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I guess you are." 

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

"You already have." 

"But I mean even happier." 

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

"I know you will." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Suddenly my whole body began to quiver. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 SUMMARY 

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

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

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

A psychiatrist who examined Norman explained the following to me: 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The psychiatrist elaborated on that point for me: 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He related to me: 

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

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

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

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

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

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

 CASE TWO 

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

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

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

Set forth herein is Kurt's story: 

I married a gorgeous red-haired chick named Renee. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Hey, that sounds pretty good." 

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

"You mean I did that great a job?" 

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

"That sounds like a pretty good combination." 

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

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

"I was waiting until just the right moment." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"O.K., lover." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You really are horny tonight." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yes, by popular demand." 

"Right on." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I stormed in the room at that point. 

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

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

I stood there with my fists clenched. 

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

Please, please no violence. I hate violence." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She lay there stunned a few seconds, then replied. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Where's Mom?" I asked. 

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

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

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

"This is my brother, Kurt," 

"Why the hell is he bugging us?" 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I know what I'm doing," 

"Sometimes I wonder." 

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

I released my lips from hers. She was shaking. 

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

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

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

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

"Mother will be home pretty soon." 

"How much time have we got?" 

"A little less than an hour." 

"Then let's go." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You're damned right I do." 

"Oh, that's so nice." 

"You know what I'd like?" 

"What's that?" 

"how many cocks have you sucked?" 

"A few." 

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

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

"Who the hell is Neal?" 

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

"Oh, the sailor boy." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Plenty of it." 

"That's great." 

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

"How are you on the freeway?" 

"I'm better on pussy." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I released my tongue from her mound, and announced: 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Have you been doing it with anybody else?" 

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

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

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

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

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

 SUMMARY 

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

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

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

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

The psychiatrist who examined him related the following to me: 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The psychiatrist stated: 

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

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

His rationale was the following: 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 CASE THREE 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Following is Glenda's story: 

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

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

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

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

I was very independent, keeping to myself. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"So what happened then?" 

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

"I hope you thanked him." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Oh yes." 

"I bet you put him in his place." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was Diane who finally released her lips from mine. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You did beautifully." 

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

I was a little nervous about trying something new. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You like these tits?" she asked grinningly. 

"I think they're fantastic." 

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

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

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

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

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

"You do that, darling." 

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

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

"How exciting." 

"Yes, isn't it." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What happened?" 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"And just why not?" 

"I'd be putting you out." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Let me fix you a drink." 

"What are you having?" 

"A Bloody Mary." 

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

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

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

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

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

"Then why don't you kiss me?" 

"You really think I should?" 

"I certainly do." 

"O.K., I will." 

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

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

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

He finally released his tongue from my mouth. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

He leaned forward and began to undress me. 

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

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

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

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

"I'm sure you are." 

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

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

"Right on, sweetheart." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Right away, honey." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I realize that." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He heaved a loud sigh, at which point that hot white juice shot 
enthusiastically inside my waiting mouth. 

"Oh, I'm in you, I'm in you," he gasped. "What a great cocksucker you are, 
baby. Did you ever do a good job of going down on my dick." 

Well, that drew us even closer together. For the next nine months we lived 
together as lovers. I wasn't interested in anybody else, and neither was he. 

Then something happened that just crushed me. He met a girl that he worked 
with at the bank. He came to me one day and told me that he was in love. 

Now, it made me think about Diane, my lover from college. I wondered if I 
would ever be able to have sex with him again. 

"Can I still make love to you?" I asked, my heart pounding. 

"We probably shouldn't do that." 

"If we're discreet about it, I think we could do it." 

"I don't know. We'll see." 

Well, eventually I talked him into continuing our romance. He married this 
girl just a short time later. 

Now he and his wife have two young children, but I still am constantly on 
him to continue our affair. 

He occasionally has sex with me, but it isn't often enough for me. On top of 
that, I have on occasion felt very guilty about having sex with him in view 
of the fact that he is married and has a family. 

Twice I tried to take my life in the last few weeks. I just get the feeling 
that life isn't worth living anymore. 

As far as I am concerned, the business I'm in, at least a lot of it, is just 
dog eat dog and there's really no sincerity or feeling. The men just ogle 
you like crazy, particularly if you're wearing a bikini or something, and 
you know what they're thinking. They want to slip their prick inside you. 

But I'm not interested in any of them. 

I am interested in Peter, but I can tell I am driving the poor guy right out 
of his skull by keeping after him. 

His wife, at least as far as I know, never suspects anything. But I know 
with all the pressures that I'm forced to cope with, life is becoming 
strictly a losing proposition. 

 SUMMARY 

The psychiatrist who examined Glenda W. came to one distinct conclusion-that 
her problems commenced with her intense lesbian relationship with Diane. 

When they examined her further, they made a discovery. One of the 
psychiatrists explained it to me: 

"Glenda is really a very possessive girl. She was that way with her friend 
Diane, she admitted upon intense cross-examination. She said that she wanted 
to go everywhere with Diane, and that any time that a man looked at Diane or 
Diane looked back, she felt intensely jealous. If Glenda had just considered 
Diane to be a casual passing affair, like so many young roommates do in 
college, the problem wouldn't have compounded to the extent it did, 
culminating in a relationship with her brother." 

In terms of defining lesbianism and its various aspects in the practical 
sense, R.E.L. Masters did a capable job in that respect in his book, 
"Forbidden Sexual Behavior and Morality." 

In discussing lesbianism, he made the following observations: 

"The insistence upon preserving the roles is somewhat more marked in lesbian 
(female homosexual) relationships than in male homosexual ones. The 
'dominant' or 'active' partner, the one in the 'male role' is known among 
lesbians as the Butch, while the 'passive' partner, the one in the 'female' 
role is a Femme (or Fern). Individuals who overtly and freely move from one 
role to the other are known by the term Ki-Ki (Kigh-Kigh), which is one of 
disapprobation. Much of this is, however, a social veneer, psychologically 
important but perforce abandoned in actual sexual relations, for the same 
reason that the exchange of roles occurs among the male homosexuals. 

"Except in tribalism (apposition and friction of the female genitals), where 
there may be approximately equal stimulation, the individual in the male 
role may be left unsatisfied unless the role reverse takes place. Why the 
deception is so widely insisted upon, when the fact of life is known to all 
lesbians, must perhaps be explained on the basis of the Butch's need to 
maintain at least vestiges of the illusion that she is truly the masculine 
partner in the relationship. (This is an illusion also fostered by the 
manner of dress, short hair cut, absence of make-up, and so on; sometimes by 
the assumption of the male economic role in the relationship, and by other 
behavior.) 

"In a society whose laws are enforced almost exclusively by males, the 
lesbian enjoys considerable advantage over the male homosexual. Lesbian sex 
acts are never prosecuted (there are extremely rare exceptions) and lesbians 
are likely to face special harassment by the law only when they frequent 
'gay bars' and other gathering places of male homosexuals. But they may be 
incidental victims of the 'crack-down' periodically staged by the police in 
most cities against the 'queers'." 

In the instance of Glenda, as one can readily observe, many of these 
phenomenon alluded to by Masters did not apply. 

The case of Glenda, as I pointed out much earlier, was a very strange one. 
She remained a highly feminine woman, certainly not falling into the 
category of a 'Butch'. But she nonetheless wanted to maintain a dominance 
over her beautiful lover, and it is quite likely that Diane was reacting as 
much to that dominance as to the opportunity of a romance with a man when 
she ultimately ended their sexual relationship. 

These frustrations that abounded within Glenda, starting with her 
dissatisfaction with men, were then compounded by the limitations and 
frustrations inherent in a homosexual type of relationship and drove her to 
the point wherein anything and everything was possible, even an incestuous 
affair with her brother. 

With respect to limitations and frustrations, Masters concluded the 
following: 

"Something should be said about limitations and frustrations of homosexual 
intercourse from the homosexual's point of view. We perceive, for example, 
that the passive or female role homosexual, the homosexual who is most 
likely regarding himself as a female soul or psyche in a male body, is 
precisely the one in competition with genuine female, and precisely the one 
who can offer his partner nothing in the way of physical contact the woman 
can offer-and who, indeed, can offer one most vital pleasure less. That is, 
he can offer only his mouth, his anus, his hands (fellatio, sodomy, and 
masturbation)-all of which a woman can also offer-and he significantly lacks 
the piece for resistance of a real woman: the vagina in coitus. Here the 
passive homosexual recognizes the absolute and unmistakable proof of his 
ersatz womanhood and of his inferiority on the physical level to woman as a 
sexual partner. That the awareness of this deficiency is no myth is attested 
to by the hundreds of appeals received by Danish and other foreign 
physicians after the case of Christine Jorgensen became known (and when it 
was thought that she had been left with a functional vagina'). 

"That the female role homosexual can offer his partner less than a woman can 
offer is somewhat ironic, that the male role homosexual who is in no sense 
in competition with women, affords pleasure that no woman can possibly 
offer. That is, he offers his penis-sodomizing the other, and permitting the 
other to fellate him. Not competing, he is without a rival while the 
competing passive homosexual is not fitted by nature for the contest. All 
this would be more significant were there more rigid adherence in a matter 
of roles. 

"The male role lesbian is also seriously handicapped by her lack of a 
phallus. Masturbation and cunnilingus may be offered by the male member in 
tribalism, the only instinctive lesbian act. Tribalism, which is basically a 
stimulation of the external genitalia, not too different from the 
stimulation possible in cunnilingus and masturbation, is more dispensible so 
far as most not exclusively lesbian females are concerned than is coitus. 
The lack of a penis is keenly felt by a male role lesbian, and this lack is 
not infrequently been the decisive factor in most triangles where male 
lesbians are in competition for a female love object. (A case of this kind 
describing the suicide of a lesbian resulting from her inability to be a 
complete lover to her mistress-resulting, that is, from the lesbian's lack 
of a phallus and incapacity to provide the vaginal penetration required by 
her mistress-described by Medard Boss in his book Meaning and Content of 
Sexual Perversion. The case is a particularly tragic one, the lesbian an 
especially intelligent, sensitive, generally affable person, and well points 
up the great importance of this anatomical deficiency of the male role 
lesbian.)" 

The definition of material relating to homosexuality is presented to 
illustrate one point, that Glenda's psyche was injured to a tremendous 
extent in such a state of affairs. 

Now she seeks to cling to her brother Peter. Her only chance to lead a 
normal life will stem from coming to grips with her basic problems in a 
meaningful way. 

She is constantly consulting with psychiatrists, and it is to be hoped that 
her suicidal impulses will ultimately be quieted and she will eventually be 
able to establish a meaningful sex relationship with a man. One, that is, 
who does not happen to be a relative. 

The subject of Case Four, Patricia L., is fortunately a much better adjusted 
person than Glenda. 

But in her early teens, she was forced into a situation by a demanding 
brother that could have destroyed her. 

The interesting case of Patricia emphasizes how important it is for a person 
to attempt to retain a sense of balance, particularly in a potentially 
tragic state of affairs. 

 CASE FOUR 

Patricia L. was the wife of a successful medical doctor. 

When she heard about the fact that I was attempting to collect documentary 
material, she agreed to relate a story about herself to me, provided that I 
would not reveal her identity. I told her that I never reveal the identities 
of any of my subjects, which gave her a great deal more confidence. 

Patricia's story follows: 

My brother Cal was the type of guy who was into everything. 

He was very athletic, I mean, that body of his was in perpetual motion all 
the time. He couldn't stand to sit still and study, so as a result he was a 
pretty lousy student, even though he had a good head on his shoulders. 

But as far as athletics were concerned, that was another story. He was 
always in both football and basketball. 

But the athletic field didn't provide him with an opportunity to get rid of 
all of his stored-up energies. He was also chasing the girls around every 
chance he got. 

But Cal had one big problem. The girls he was attracted to were the very 
good looking ones, and they were the girls who were a little bit more 
discriminate than he would have liked when it came to putting out for sex. 

I remember one night when he came home after a date with this girl who was a 
cheerleader on the football team. She was very cute and all the guys at 
school had a crush on her. I was just fourteen then, and still in junior 
high. 

Cal came back from his date, and he had this sour look on his face. It 
surprised me, since he had been so concerned about dating the girl. I would 
have thought him to be happy just over getting to go out with her. 

He burst into my room just as I was getting ready for bed. I had just put on 
my pajamas. 

"What's the matter, Cal?" I asked. 

"That damned Rita. She wouldn't give in." 

"What do you mean?" 

"I mean that she wouldn't have sex with me. A guy gets all worked up like 
that. Then he doesn't get what he needs. And to make matters worse, she let 
me kiss and pet her. Naturally that got me even more turned on. So she gets 
me turned on at this point, then lets me go. That isn't fair. It's not fair 
at all. I don't like it one bit." 

"I'm sorry you weren't completely satisfied, Cal." 

"But just look at the size of this hard-on I've got," he exclaimed. 

He was talking very low so that the folks, whose room was way down the hall 
from where our rooms were, couldn't hear. 

Then he really shocked me by pulling out that hard dick of his, removing it 
from his trousers. 

"Just look at the size of this thing," he said. 

I stood there with my mouth open. It was the first time I had ever seen his 
penis. And naturally it would have to be when it was hard as a rock. I will 
say this. It was a good sized cock by any yardstick, and I could tell by the 
anxious look on his face that he wanted some action. 

"I've got this passion all stored up, and there's no outlet for it," he 
said. "Unless you can give me a hand, Sis." 

"What do you mean by that?" 

"Look, honey, I would never think of fucking your mound. You're a virgin 
anyway, aren't you?" 

"Yes, I'm only fourteen." 

"Well, some girls aren't at fourteen, you know," he laughed. "I figured you 
were. I was sure you were. Besides, even if you weren't, I wouldn't want to 
stick my pecker in your mound. What the hell would ever happen if I knocked 
up my own sister? I know a guy that I go to school with that did that. That 
was really a bad scene. But I'll tell you what you can do. You can suck this 
big dick of mine." 

"Oh no," I sobbed. 

"Don't make any noise," he held up a cautioning hand. "The folks might hear. 
Come on, honey. You don't know how much this would please me. It would mean 
everything to me if you would just go down on that prick of mine. Just suck 
it, darling, just go down on it. You're a lovely girl. I really admire you. 
Now please help out your older brother. Please just grab a hold of this 
prick and suck on it." 

"But I'm scared," I said. 

My whole body was trembling, and now I was starting to break out in a sweat. 

"Don't be afraid," he said. "Just take this dick of mine and start playing 
with it. You can start out by running your fingers up and down it. Then you 
can slide that tongue of yours around. Come o honey, you can do that for me, 
can't you?" 

"I will touch it anyway. Can you get any satisfaction that way?" 

"I guess that's better than nothing," he sighed. "That's more than that 
damned Rita was willing to do for me. She wouldn't even jerk off my rocks. 
Go ahead and try that. Then let's see what develops from there." 

On that note I reached out and took his penis from out of his hand. I ran my 
fingers smoothly up and down the long hard surface of it. It was nice and 
warm, along with being very hard, and the longer that my fingers worked up 
and down it, the more excited I became. It really gave me a tremendous 
feeling to run those fingers up and down it. I couldn't get over it. I never 
thought that I'd be this excited having a form of sexual contact with my own 
brother. 

"Keep working the fingers," he implored. "Keep working them up and down my 
long pecker." 

I was getting carried away from the action as I kept up those finger 
activities. Finally, he had some other-ideas. 

"O.K., baby, now I wish you'd suck on the tip of that rod of mine," he 
exclaimed. "Come on and do that for me, darling. Just work that tongue of 
yours around the tip. That's what I want you to do, and as the enthusiasm 
grows, then you can start working your tongue up and down my entire rod" 

I leaned forward and began to work my tongue over the tip of his prick. At 
first I was scared, since I was doing something so far removed from anything 
I had ever done before. But the longer that that tongue of mine worked 
around his rod, the more excited I became. 

Soon I was working the tongue faster, and I was doing it without him even 
having to encourage me. 

He ran his fingers through my hair, stroking my head ever so gently as my 
tongue kept on working fervently up and down the length of that entire rod. 

"Come on and suck, darling, come on and suck that prick of mine," he said. 
"I want you to stay with it until the juice starts spurting. It will be 
spurting pretty soon, darling. It's not going to take long, baby. I'm 
getting good and hot. Just keep up that tongue work. Keep the tongue sliding 
around my rod. Oh, I like that sense of time you're developing. You're 
really getting good at it now. Move that tongue up and down the whole base. 
Work it up and down this long cock of mine. Come on, baby, and let's enjoy 
it together." 

Now I was working faster than ever, allowing that tongue to work fervently 
up and down the length of his entire organ. 

It was a mammoth organ, a warm, firm organ, and I was really learning to 
like that kind of fervent action as that tongue of mine kept on working with 
enthusiastic grace up and down the length of his entire spear. 

"Come on and suck," he exclaimed, "come on work that tongue around. Oh, work 
that tongue, baby. Oh, suck me, I need it. I need that hot action. I need 
you to keep on turning that tongue loose, baby, I really love it. Oh, I'm 
itching all over, I'm itching from those sensations you're supplying to me. 
Keep up that hot action, honey. Keep on driving with that tongue of yours. 
Keep on driving away." 

Now I was like somebody who was possessed. I just couldn't wait to get to 
the end of this sucking. I wondered what it would be like to collect those 
juices that would be spurting from out of the end of his rod. I wouldn't 
even have known about the juices if it hadn't been for a sex education class 
I had and as a result of hearing some girlfriends of mine talking about how 
their older sisters had told them about cocksucking. 

There I was, blasting away, letting that head of mine bob up and down with 
great eagerness as I kept on sliding that tongue up and down his rod. 

"Stay with it, honey," he said, "I'm going to fuck that lovely mouth of 
yours with my white juice. Just wait until it spurts. Oh, is it ever going 
to spurt beautifully. You're just going to love it, darling, you're going to 
love every second of it. I'm going to gush inside that hot mouth of yours." 

A few seconds later, his body began to convulse. I had a feeling that that 
was the start of his climax, so I braced myself as that tongue of mine kept 
on moving spiritedly up and down his entire organ. 

"Eat it, darling, oh, eat it," he exclaimed. 

Now those fingers of his were clutching my head firmly as the spirited white 
juice began spurting voluminously out of the end of his hot dick and into my 
waiting mouth. 

"Oh, that's it, baby, stick with it, stick with that load," he exclaimed. 

Much to my embarrassment, I wasn't able to handle the entire load. 

I spat out a number of drops of the white orgasmic liquid. I coughed a 
little- 

"Come on, honey, stay with it," he told me. "Honey, don't cop out. Stay with 
that juice, eat it, eat as much as you can. I know this is something new. I 
don't blame you for spitting some of it out, but hang on to most of the 
load. I need you to .swallow it. It makes me feel so good when you do that. 
Come on, darling, stay with it, stay with those juices." 

I did manage to hang onto a good deal of that load and that somewhat 
placated him. 

He heaved a sigh of relief, giving me a big grin when it was all over. 

"Thank you, lovely Sis," he kissed my forehead tenderly. "Now I guess I can 
go to bed and get a good night's sleep. I never could have slept, though, if 
you hadn't helped me out." 

"You were pretty excited, weren't you?" 

"Oh, honey, I couldn't have been more excited. That damned little cockteaser 
bitch that I was with turned me on so much. She let me kiss and pet her. 
Then after all that was over, she couldn't have the decency to let me get my 
rocks off inside her. The damned bitch." 

With that he left the room, closing the door behind him. 

It wasn't until the lights were out in my room and I was lying in bed alTby 
myself and had time to think that I started to feel guilty about what had 
happened. 

I wondered if I had cheapened myself by letting my brother get his rocks off 
inside my mouth. I had never done anything like that before, but one thing 
was certain. I really enjoyed it. I just couldn't help it. Once I turned 
that tongue loose on his dick, I found that I liked it very much. 

I didn't think any more that night about whether this would be our only such 
sex experience. 

About two weeks later Cal came into my room again, wearing the same kind of 
a frustrated look. 

The moment that Cal stood before me, I knew what the score was. I looked 
down at his trousers and observed the huge bulge there. 

"I got shut out again tonight," he shook his head. "You know, when I was 
driving home, though, I didn't feel as frustrated as I did last time. I got 
to thinking about you. You're such a beautiful little gal, Sis, and on top 
of that you're just great when it comes to the sucking." 

"I really don't know if I can do it again." 

"And just why the hell not?" 

"It just isn't right," I shook my head. "I don't think I should be doing 
it." 

"Don't give me this guilt crap," he shook his head disgustedly. "You know 
that you dug it last time, don't you?" 

"Yes, I liked it." 

"O.K., then how about us going at it again? I want to get another head job. 
I'll have another nice load for that beautiful little mouth of yours." 

"O.K.," I sighed. 

"Once you get rolling, you'll remember how good a time you had last time." 

"I already remember that," I told him. "I could never forget it. It's just 
that I'm worried that I might get hooked on you or something like that." 

"Let's let the future take care of itself, baby. As for the present, let's 
go at it." 

Now he unzipped his trousers, reaching out and grabbing a hold of that hot 
pecker of his. 

"Come on and take it away from me, baby. Come on, lover, and work those 
fingers around my dick. I want you to work the fingers around this pecker 
beautifully, baby, then I want you to go to work with that tongue of yours 
on my rod. I want you to suck it, baby, I want you to give me the same kind 
of a beautiful suck that you gave me before." 

This time he was more demanding than he had been on the first occasion. I 
guess Cal figured that I had served my apprenticeship, and now it was time 
for me to get into some more sophisticated methods of this type of activity. 

My fingers worked at a feverish clip, manipulating spiritedly up and down 
the length of his entire rod. It was amazing how acclimated I would become 
to sucking, based on that first incident. 

Now I was stroking like an old pro, working those fingers beautifully up and 
down the length of his entire organ. 

"Now you're really working those fingers," he grinned. "I want you to take 
your other hand and let those fingers work around my balls. The testicles 
need a little action too, sweetheart. Come on and work those fingers around 
my balls, work them around my cock. I like that kind of double sensation, 
honey, it really turns me on in a big way." 

Back and forth I kept up those spirited movements on his cock. While that 
was going on, I worked my fingers over his balls as well. 

I noticed those balls of his getting larger and larger, and they were just 
bulging with sensations. 

After the finger activity had proceeded to such an extent, he was driven 
into a state of exhilaration. He cried out: 

"O.K., honey, now I want you to suck my balls. I want you to just turn that 
tongue of yours loose against them. Come on, honey, suck them. Work the 
tongue over my hot balls. Oh, baby, I need that kind of beautiful action. 
Work the tongue around there. Work the tongue around my balls. I need that, 
honey, that will get me good and excited. Then you can turn the tongue loose 
on my cock. So work it, darling, oh, work it." 

Now I was working the tongue around the balls, just as he had requested. 

Once again I was made to discover just how excited I got from that type of 
sex activity. The tongue was working around with feverish passion as I kept 
up those fervent movements. 

"Don't let up for one second," he said, running his fingers through my hair 
gently. "Work the tongue around those balls of mine. Let that tongue cut 
loose, baby, oh, let it work, baby. Work it, baby. We're really making time 
now, honey, we're really coordinating. We're doing it beautifully. Oh, what 
a hose artist you're going to turn into. You're going to be the best 
cocksucker around, baby, so keep up those beautiful movements." 

I kept on working that tongue of mine gingerly around his balls. Now they 
were bulging to such an extent that he needed me to open up on his cock. 

"O.K., now go down on my dick," he exclaimed. "I want you to work that 
tongue around my cock. And while you're doing that I want you to finger my 
balls. Keep the fingers working over those bulging balls while that tongue 
is going to work on my cock. I need that kind of double action, sweetheart, 
I really need it. Work that tongue around, darling, oh, I want you to work 
it." 

Now I was coordinating my efforts beautifully, working the fingers around 
his searing balls while my tongue manipulated up and down the entire length 
of his organ. 

"Now, you're clicking, suck it, oh, keep up the sucking," he exclaimed. "You 
know where it's at, sweetheart, oh, do you ever know where it's at. Keep on 
sucking, baby, oh, I like it, I like what you're doing to me. Drive that 
tongue, darling, oh, drive it, I like that, oh, I like what you're doing." 

The double sensations of the balls massaging coupled with the cocksucking 
drove him to the limits of sexual excitement. 

"Just a few more strokes, just a few more of those hot strokes," he gasped. 
"I'm getting ready to shoot, darling, oh, are you ever turning me on with 
that hot action. Keep it up, sweetheart, oh, keep it up." 

Now my head was bobbing up and down with wild enthusiasm as I put him 
through the closing paces. 

"Ah, there it goes, eat it, go after it, honey, don't cough now, go after 
all of it," he said. "I want it, baby, I want that hot juice. I want it in 
your mouth, baby, oh, do I ever want it, oh, what a great act, oh, this is 
fantastic, oh, this is great, eat it, honey, eat it." 

This time I almost succeeded in that endeavor. A few droplets spilled out of 
the sides of my mouth, but I was able to hang onto most of that load and it 
was a very delicious one, a highly enlightening experience, to say the very 
least. 

Once again, Cal was satisfied. He patted me on top of the head and said: 

"You're the greatest, Sis." 

With that he left for his room. I must admit that I felt pretty good after 
that second episode. A lot of the guilt feelings that surfaced after the 
first time we had done it, didn't reappear the second time. And on top of 
that, it made me feel that I had really accomplished something since I had 
swallowed almost all of his load. 

After that second sucking episode, Cal reached the point where he felt that 
he could call on me any time that I was needed. 

When he would go out and score with a chick, he would come back in a 
contented frame of mind. But when he didn't, then I would be there to serve 
the purpose. 

Little did I realize at the time, but I was creating a terrible problem for 
myself. 

When I started high school, I was so experienced in the art of cocksucking, 
and was so excited over the prospect of engaging in it, that I could hardly 
wait to suck about as many cocks as I could. 

Another problem occurred at that particular point in time. My brother Cal, 
after graduating from high school, went into the Navy. That meant that he 
was gone and I had to search for other subjects. 

So I got the reputation in high school for being the best cocksucker around. 
None of the guys could get into my pants, and I remained a virgin. But as 
far as going down on dicks was concerned, I couldn't get enough of that. 

After I graduated from high school, I had such a sordid reputation that I 
moved to another part of the city. 

I got a secretarial job, and went to visit a psychiatrist, telling him all 
about these impulses of mine. 

He suggested that I lay off of the cocksucking no matter how much I might 
like it. He suggested that I lay off until I happened to find the right man, 
the kind of man I would like to marry. He said that if I cheapened my 
reputation, it would be difficult for me to meet the kind of man that would 
make a good husband and provider. 

I had to agree with his point of view, and I went searching for that right 
man. 

I went steady with a man at the office for quite a while. For a long time I 
thought that he would be the man that I would marry. I didn't, but I did 
surrender my virginity to him. 

After we started having sex regularly, I performed fellatio on him, but I 
pretended that it was a big deal to succumb to that act, as I didn't want 
him to know how much I really loved it. 

Well, one day not long after I broke up with this man, and was in a pretty 
sad frame of mind, I fell down and broke my arm in a freak accident in my 
apartment. 

Naturally, I had to go to the doctor, and my landlady recommended a young 
man that she went to, a man who hadn't been out of medical school for very 
long. 

That freak accident turned out to be the greatest thing that ever happened 
to me in my life. I not only met a nice doctor. I met a husband. We started 
going together regularly, and eventually we got married. 

I used the same sort of resourceful strategy as I had applied in the case of 
the man I had gone with at the office. I didn't in any way tip him off as to 
how much I enjoyed fellatio. No way. I didn't suck him until we had been 
going together for a long spell. 

I just knew that I had to take things easy. My entire life rested on it. I 
wasn't going to cheapen my name any more. 

So I've enjoyed a happy married life ever since then. I've thought every now 
and then about Cal, wondering how he is doing. 

After he served his hitch in the Navy, he settled in a little Texas town-I 
don't even remember the name-and got a job as a garage mechanic. 

We don't even hear much from him these days, except to get a card at 
Christmas time. 

Every time that I feast my eyes on his Christmas card and read the little 
note that he inscribes, the memories drift back to those days in my bedroom 
when I would go down on him. 

I thank my lucky stars that I stopped when I did. If I had kept it up, my 
reputation would have been so blackened, that I never would have been able 
to get any decent guy to go with me, much less marry me. 

I love my husband very much, and fortunately he knows nothing whatever about 
that facet of my life. 

 SUMMARY 

I was eager to ask Patricia L. just what prompted her to reveal all this 
information to me. 

"I would like to set all this down as a part of the record to help some 
poor, unfortunate girl who might not be as lucky as me," she explained. 
"Fortunately I was able to adjust in time. There are an awful lot of girls 
who don't. I am trying to provide a little hope for them by showing what 
happened to me. I was able to finally pull back. I could have gotten burned 
a lot worse. But what I'm saying is, that even if a girl has been getting 
burned worse than I did, there is still hope for her." 

"The moral is that the girl has to practice restraint, even if there are 
certain acts, or if a certain act that she happens to like a good deal is 
involved, isn't that what you are saying?" I inquired further. 

"Yes, that's a pretty good summation to what I've been saying. We've all 
reached crisis points in our lives. I don't know you that well, but if you 
think back, you can certainly recall periods when you were at the cross 
roads." 

"We all can," I nodded. 

"That's precisely what I mean. I'm trying to offer some encouragement and 
guidance to girls that might get caught in a bad dilemma. I mean, maybe they 
aren't compulsive cocksuckers like I was, but have some kind of a hang-up. 
Maybe they just can't say no to a guy, and they're on the verge of becoming 
nymphomaniacs or something. Well, they've got to learn to turn back, say no, 
before it's too late. That's the point that I'm trying to emphasize." 

She stated her position well, and it is fortunate that Patricia L. was able 
to face up to her situation in time, before, as she said, the dire state of 
emergency arose. 

A penetrating documentary study was done by Courtney V. Devereux entitled 
"Oral Sex." 

In the course of that work, he interviewed a number of men and women who 
were strongly attracted in one form or another to orality. 

In the case of Patricia, she learned before it was too late just the kind of 
danger she was involving herself in. 

But Devereux cites the case of Joan E., in which he quotes her accordingly: 

"Most of these poor married broads don't know the first thing about the 
science of cocksucking. I'm talking about the rare ones that are daring 
enough to do it with their sweeties. They think that all they've got to do 
is to stick a cock in their mouth, bob their head up and down a few times on 
it, and it will pop in some magic formula. Yeah, they're that naive. 

"I got so good at it that I was always getting calls, all the way through 
school. I got to be a real favorite with the fraternity boys. They would 
take up a big collection to pay for my services for an entire night, then 
I'd go over and suck them off one by one, until their prick was so droopy 
they couldn't get it up to save their lives. One night I took on twenty-five 
guys and left them all satisfied. That really gave me a thrill. 

"Different guys want their cocks sucked in different ways, and the same guy 
wants it sucked in different ways in different-times. If a guy is good and 
hot he wants to pump up and down the rod real quick, so he can shoot those 
rocks. If he he's hot, but not quite as anxious, I'll give him a better 
overall job. I'll take longer and massage his balls, stick my finger up his 
asshole to give him added sensations, pump up and down in slow, more 
rhythmic beat. 

"I did a lot of systematic ball licking as well. I mean, I've got an 
instinct for knowing when a guy's balls are hot and bothered and he wants to 
lick on his ball bag. Sometimes they ask me to lick their balls, and 
sometimes they don't, but I can usually tell they are ready for it. Many 
times, when this happens, I'll take things into my own hands. 

"When I graduated from college, I moved back to the city, dying my hair a 
different shade and changing my name, just not taking any chances. Many 
people take professional names these days, so nobody thought anything of it 
when I took one. If they only knew the motivation!" 

Joan E. also recognized the stigma attached to the kind of widespread 
promiscuity in which she had involved herself. 

Devereux explained the following relative to oral sex in the intelligently 
developed introduction to "Oral Sex": 

"With sex now engaged in for pleasure purposes by an experiment-minded 
modern generation, unshackled from the bonds of the past, it is 
un-deratandable that variations can now be explored. 

"Oral sex, undiscussed by the traditionalists, is picking up enormous 
popularity in the United States today, particularly among the young. 
Regarding sex as pleasure, and their bodies as vehicles for erotic 
stimulation and satisfaction, the young have experimented widely and 
discovered that orality can have a highly rewarding place in their erotic 
life. 

"Depictions of oral sex are manifest all around us. Graphic art featuring 
this mode of expression abound on newsstands from coast to coast, while 
motion pictures, underground and major productions alike, emphasize the 
'licking' aspect of sex. 

"The provocative and popular feature film productions, 'The Killing of 
Sister George', was spiced by a cunnilingus episode which undoubtedly aided 
its overall box office success. 'Charlie Bubbles', featuring British film 
great Albert Finney, also contained a provocative oral sex interlude. 

"Explicit oral contact exists to an even greater degree in the underground 
circuit, going considerably further in the graphic sense. 

"'When I think of these unenlightened married couples living together for 
years who would throw up over the prospect of going down on each other, I 
don't know whether to laugh or cry,' a sophisticated young professional man 
revealed to me with a grin. 'If they'd only get off this absurd guilt kick 
and recognize sex as it should be, a means of providing pleasure, they'd be 
surprised at all the "good sucking" they could give each other." 

"Thanks in part to the greater emphasis today on orality, many of these 
'unenlightened married couples' of whom the young professional man spoke, 
have suddenly seen the light. Married couples are experimenting to a greater 
degree than ever before, and are, on the whole, pleased with the results. 

"'Since Brad and I threw away our guilt and started doing everything, 
including a lot or oral practices that we both thought were evil and vile 
one time, our marriage has become happier and we've drawn closer together,' 
an attractive suburban housewife and mother of three candidly informed us." 

A common ground must be found, however, between the puritanism of old and 
the kind of promiscuity that can produce damaging results, as exemplified in 
the case of Patricia L. 

Devereux later related in the introduction related to that point: 

"Many of the 'The Sex Lickers' in their anxiety to enjoy sex to the fullest, 
don't know where to stop. Often, when they reach this point, they want to 
confide their stories to some one else. In some instances, those were the 
cirumstances under which I entered the picture. In most instances, fetish or 
no fetish. The Sex Lickers' lived by the current 'tell it like it is' credo 
and defend what they're doing." 

Extremism in sex is practice to be avoided with the same degree of caution 
as excess puritanism, which will prevent a man or a woman from realizing the 
true measure of happiness in a sexual relationship. 

The theme of lesbianism, so prominent in terms of today's sex scene, 
surfaces in Case Five. 

The interesting story of Valerie D. is in some respects akin to that of 
Glenda W., who was involved in lesbianism in Case Three. 

In the case of Valerie, however, her fling did not come as the very young 
girl, such as Glenda, who had her big lesbian affair in college. 

 CASE FIVE 

Valerie R. was an attractive redhead who came to me wearing a very glum 
expression. 

The psychiatrist who had examined her had called me up and gone over her 
case history slightly with me, informing me that she was getting into 
periods of great sadness. 

I couldn't help but think of Glenda W., and wondered just how the case of 
Valerie would compare with that of Glenda. 

At first Valerie was very cautious about what she said. She had two cups of 
coffee and smoked two cigarettes before she finally worked into 
conversation. 

Following is Valerie's story: 

I didn't really fall in love until I met Bert. 

He was a cute young cop on the San Francisco Police Force. I met him one 
evening on a blind date, the only blind date that I had ever had that 
produced a worthwhile result. 

We found that we hit it off beautifully from the very beginning, and the 
longer we talked the more we found what we had in common. 

We began going together regularly and I had a very strong hunch that it 
would only be a matter of time before he proposed to me. 

Bert was a real gentleman, the finest I have ever known. He handled himself 
beautifully on and off the job and won the total respect of his fellow 
police officers along with people he helped on his beat. 

Even though I knew he was strongly attracted to me, he didn't make any 
overtures toward me for sex purposes for quite a while. He respected me, and 
I liked that about him. 

Several times earlier in my life, I had turned off of particular men because 
they had become prematurely demanding in what they expected of me. 

Well, one thing led to another with Bert, and finally he proposed to me. It 
was the happiest day of my life when we were married. 

After a honeymoon in Las Vegas, we set up housekeeping in a tiny but very 
nice little apartment in the heart of San Francisco. 

We were very happy. Things just couldn't have been any brighter than they 
were during the two years of our marriage. 

Then something awful happened. Bert was gunned down by a bank robber as he 
was attempting to prevent a heist. 

He was a hero, earning a medal posthumously for his valorous deeds as he 
walked into that bank and took on all four of the gunmen. 

He managed to fatally wound two of them, wing a third, and was about ready 
to set his sights on the fourth when the man shot him. 

I was so crushed I didn't know what to do. For several weeks I just laid 
around the apartment and did nothing but cry. 

A very nice priest from the local parish who had been a good friend of Bert 
came and consoled me. He told me that it just wasn't right for a beautiful 
young girl like me to waste my life crying over something that couldn't be 
changed. He told me that Bert would be the first person to agree with that. 

The priest revealed that Burt had told him many times that the thing he was 
most concerned about was my happiness. That being the case, the priest 
concluded, he would not want to have me mopping around the apartment when I 
should be going out and living. 

That was a whole lot easier said than done. I'm the type of person who loves 
very hard when I do give my heart away. It isn't often that I do, but in 
those particular instances, my love means everything to me. 

But I knew what the priest was driving at, and I couldn't help but agree 
with his philosophy. We are put on this earth to live, and I felt that he 
was right in saying that I had to do something to shake away the feelings of 
despair. 

So I went to an employment office the next day and tried to locate a job. 

I obtained one as a secretary, in a huge office surrounded by a lot of 
hungry single men. 

I didn't like their attitudes about sex. They would stand around the water 
cooler and exchange dirty jokes, then turn their eyes loose ogling all the 
young girls. Oh, they ogled me & good deal, but I wasn't all that interested 
in ogling back. And as a matter-of-fact, the whole thing disgusted me. They 
were acting pretty sick, as far as I was concerned. The kind of man I 
admired was somebody like Bert, and unfortunately he was gone. 

I was pretty convinced as time went on that Bert was the only man for me. I 
really didn't think that there were any men around quite like him. 

I was miserable on my job, even though I was making pretty good money on it. 

I started getting depressed just being around San Francisco. So much of it 
reminded me of Bert. The little men that ran the shops, they would wave to 
me, and I knew that they were waving to Bert as well as me. They couldn't 
forget him. 

I was corresponding a good deal with my sister Marty, who lived in 
Hollywood. She seemed genuinely sympathetic to my problem. She had been able 
to empathize with me, as she had had a recent tragedy in her life as well. 

I lost the man I loved through a tragic death, while her marriage came to an 
end via the divorce route. She explained in several letters just how 
unfaithful her husband was. He wanted to have it both ways-to retain his 
marital situation with her, while also carrying on as freely as any single 
man would have dared. 

She finally invited me to come out and stay with her in her apartment in 
Hollywood. She explained that it was a very spacious place, and that it was 
really too big for one person to begin with. 

She listed the reasons why I should leave San Francisco. I had told her 
about all the sad memories that would return whenever I would see one of 
those friendly faces of those shopkeepers that knew Bert, so she told me 
that a change of environment would no doubt do me a world of good. 

She also explained that she could get me a job working at the same company 
she was employed by. It was a production company that was active in both 
motion pictures and television. I've got to admit that the nature of the 
work sounded somewhat challenging to me. 

I answered her letter, telling her that I would move in with her in about a 
month. It would take me that long to put my affairs in order and provide my 
boss, who had been very nice to me, with sufficient notice so that he could 
find somebody to replace me. 

I remember the tears that were in my eyes when I got on that plane that took 
me from Sari Francisco to Los Angeles. As the jet hovered over the City by 
the Bay that I was saying goodbye to, I thought one last time about Bert. 
Maybe somehow I could put those sad memories behind me when I went to a new 
city . 

I must say that I hardly recognized Marty when she arrived to meet me at the 
airport. She had her hair bleached a stunning blonde color, and she looked 
very good in the green pantsuit she was wearing. 

Marty was three years older than I was, and when I had been a very young 
girl she had been like a big sister to me. 

Now I was back with her again, and I had a rather comfortable feeling as I 
got into her Oldsmobile and we drove into Hollywood. 

"You're looking great, honey," she said to me. 

"You're looking pretty good yourself, Marty." 

"Well, I have a challenging job and it keeps me occupied," she smiled. "I 
sincerely hope that you can get in there too. I've put in a good word for 
you to my boss." 

"that's great." 

"As a matter-of-fact, would you feel like being interviewed tomorrow?" 

"I believe so." 

"That's good. He would like to talk to you." 

The following day I went to talk to Marty's boss. He was a very kind, heavy 
set man in his middle fifties. His operation was very successful, and he 
said that he could stand to employ at least one more girl at that point to 
take care of the business overflow. 

I got the job, so Marty and I were working at the same place. 

I gradually started coming out of the dumps now. I liked the beautiful 
apartment that we shared, which was in the Hollywood Hills, overlooking the 
bright lights of the city. I liked the view, and Marty was as kind and 
considerate as a sister could be. 

Something was happening, however, that I thought a little strange. I 
couldn't exactly put my finger on it, but I wondered why she had so many 
young girlfriends who would be around the apartment at various times. 

I would come home and find her talking with one and sometimes two. Then they 
would often leave and go out to drink at a bar. 

As for my sex life, it was nonexistent at that point, and I wasn't really 
all that concerned. I was still very much hung up on my dead husband, and I 
wondered if I would ever get to the point where I'd want anybody else. 
Indeed, if a man that I was genuinely attracted to had come along just then, 
I probably would have been afraid to even have a relationship with him. I 
would have been extremely fearful about what would transpire if I ever let 
my heart go. I kept thinking about Bert and how hung up I was on him. It 
really crushed me then when he died, since I had wrapped up my entire life 
around that handsome guy. 

One evening Marty suggested that we go out and have dinner on the Sunset 
Strip. 

She took me to a quaint little sidewalk cafe where we had a nice full course 
meal. 

"I think it's about time that you saw the night life," she smiled. "How'd 
you like to go to a few of the Sunset Strip night clubs?" 

"Oh, I don't know," I said. "I've never been much when it comes to night 
life. I guess you could say that I'm something of a square." 

"You're nothing of the kind," she shot back emphatically. "I think that it 
would do you good. You don't have to tell me. I know that you're still 
nursing a crush on that poor husband of yours. You're carrying a torch for 
him. I can recognize it. It happened to me once in my life, but I got a 
divorce. My husband is still alive. Your poor husband is gone. You're going 
to have to get away from him, honey. Time will help you, but you've got to 
fight it. That's the only way that I was able to forget about mine. I just 
told myself that was it." 

"That was quite a lecture, Marty. O.K., I get your point. I think you're 
right. Let's go out. I'll let you take me to some of these places." 

"Now you're talking, honey," Marty smiled. "Just listen to your older 
sister." 

"I guess I always have," I nodded. 

"Yes, you've been a pretty good girl." 

We made the rounds of the Sunset Strip night clubs. I had a little more to 
drink than I was generally accustomed to but still didn't drink to the same 
degree that Marty did. 

Marty really liked to tie into the sauce. That was one thing about her that 
disconcerted me a little bit. I was a little afraid that maybe she liked it 
just too much. And those girls that she would go with, they tended to drink 
quite a bit too. 

But then I got to thinking that this was Hollywood, and that was the way it 
was with so many people who lived there. At least, as far as what I had 
heard was concerned. 

Now I was a little bit on the soused side. No really so bad, mind you, but 
bad enough to where I could feel it a little. I feel a tremendously 
uninhibited side of me coming to the surface as I began to laugh and joke 
with my sister. It was about the first time that I had genuinely cut loose 
since my husband had died. 

It made me feel good to be able to laugh again with my sister. It brought 
back all those fond memories of girlhood. 

Once we got back to the apartment, Marty immediately began to take off her 
dress. 

As she stripped down to her panties and bra, she looked very attractive. Her 
figure was so firm and full. She looked very lovely. 

"Hey, what are you doing?" I asked. 

"I just feel like taking my clothes off, darling," she chuckled. "I'm going 
to fix myself a drink. How about you joining me?" 

"No, I think I've had plenty for today," I laughed. "You're going to get me 
real drunk if you keep it up." 

"And what's wrong with that?" she chuckled. 

"Have yourself a little fun. Let yourself go." 

She fixed herself a screwdriver, which she carried out into the living room. 

She sprawled out there on the rug, sipping the vodka and orange juice. Then 
she suddenly jumped to her feet. 

"I feel so inhibited with clothes on," she chuckled. "Even the underwear is 
inhibiting. I want to take my panties and bra off." 

She then went to work on her bra, quickly removing it. She then 
systematically slipped those panties down her legs, stepping out of them. 

I couldn't get over why she was being so bold and to take off her clothes in 
front of me. 

"Why don't you join me?" she said. "I've found, dear, that one of the best 
things a girl can do to feel real good and relax is to take off all her 
clothes. I recommend it very highly." 

"The whole thing sounds like a crazy idea to me," I chuckled, a little 
nervously. 

"Don't you believe it for a second," she said. "Come on, honey, you've got a 
beautiful body and I'd like to see it, nude." 

"It sounds like you're getting horny for me," I laughed. 

"Why don't you just take off those clothes, darling? I guarantee you that it 
will make you feel better. Clothes can be so inhibiting. Just take them 
off." 

I had had just enough drinks to where I was willing to follow through with 
her suggestion. I'll tell you something, if I hadn't have been at the point 
where I was, from the drinks that I had had, you can be certain that I would 
never would have ever done such a thing. I would have considered it just 
plain stupid. But now I had had the booze, so I was ready to tackle just 
about anything and everything. 

I slipped out of my skirt, then my blouse. 

She was watching me ever so closely, lying sprawled out there on the living 
room rug as she finished sipping her drink. 

Just as I had gotten down to my panties and bra, she took her empty glass 
and carried it with her into the kitchen. 

She walked back out and was smiling at me in a way that I had never seen her 
smile before. It was kind of a sensuous smile, and I couldn't get over it. 

She continued staring at me as I took off my panties. Suddenly I was 
beginning to wonder just why she was so fascinated at the prospect of seeing 
me naked. Just maybe, I thought, even though I was very naive, she was 
interested in looking at me for some sex reasons. 

Even though I was willing to consider that point, I never thought that she 
was considering anything more than just looking. I would have flipped at the 
prospect of her anticipating any more than just a peek. 

Once I had removed my panties and bra, I stood there in the middle of the 
room. 

"Come on over here and stretch out beside me, dear," she said. 

At that point I did begin to think there was something a little funny, but I 
went ahead and did what she asked anyway. 

Then the next thing I knew she was reaching out with her right hand and 
running her fingers ever so skillfully and smoothly over my breasts. 

"Oh, I like fingering you there," she said. "Those are such nice, firm 
breasts. I really love touching you, darling, it really feels so good." 

Those fingers kept on working magically, applying themselves with systematic 
grace as she kept on working her fingers over my breasts. 

She then leaned forward, letting her long red tongue slip inside my mouth. 

Back and forth she worked that tongue around inside my mouth. The tongues 
began to clash and as she continued to run her fingers over my breasts ever 
so swiftly and smoothly. My entire body began to quiver with great 
excitement. 

She was really excited, and the longer that her tongue collided with mine 
and the faster that her fingers went to work over my breasts, the greater 
the degree of enthusiasm that I began to feel. 

I was beginning to wonder what was wrong with me. I was really enjoying the 
sensations which she was providing for me. 

She was a very attractive girl, and the fact that she was my sister 
apparently had nothing to do with it, as far as providing me with sensations 
was concerned. She could be my sister and I could still get turned on with 
her easily enough. 

Soon I was improvising on my own. I was reaching out with the fingers of 
both hands and letting them go to work on her buttocks. 

She had a nicely constructed rear end, and every time that I allowed those 
fingers to probe against her asscheeks, I became that much more excited. 

She kept up the Frenching for a long time, driving me into an exhilirated 
state of passionate desire. 

She knew just how to get me turned on, and she kept up the tongue action for 
quite some time, then released her tongue from my mouth. 

Now she began to put that tongue of hers to work against my breasts. I felt 
like I was on fire now between my legs as she kept up that breast friction, 
letting her tongue slide over my breasts and nipples, alternating the 
stroking back and forth. 

I was so turned on by then that my whole body was trembling. She knew just 
how to control the action, getting me to the very point that she wanted me. 

When she felt that she had me in the state of excitement that she wanted me, 
she released her tongue from my breasts. 

She let that tongue swoop down swiftly between my legs. She let it maneuver 
ever so slowly over my hot mound, which was already a little moist from the 
excitement that she had been providing for me with the French kissing and 
the breast licking. 

I just lay there with my legs spread, watching as that skilled tongue of 
hers went to work ever so slowly, covering every hot crevice of my burning 
snatch. 

"Oh, that feels so good," I gasped. "Darling, you're so good, oh, I love 
that. I love those strokes. Oh, do I ever love that stroking action. It's so 
good, darling, so good, I love the way your tongue is working." 

I must admit that the drinks were wearing on my very heavily at that point. 
If they hadn't been, you can be sure that I would be experiencing a number 
of hang-ups relative to what was going on. After all, this was something 
completely new to me. I had never experienced a lesbian act, to begin with, 
and this really made it novel, since I was getting my baptismal fire from my 
own sister. 

That tongue kept on working, and the longer she kept it up, the faster she 
put it to work. 

Now she was really letting it go to work, driving it at an enthusiastic clip 
over my hot mound. 

Back and forth she let it slide. Now the tempo was really beginning to 
accelerate as she let that tongue fly with enthusiastic grace over my hot 
snatch. 

"Oh, keep the tongue going, oh, don't let up, move it quickly, baby, I love, 
it," I said. "Oh, that feels so good, it feels so wonderful, oh, it feels so 
great." 

Those were the same kinds of words that I would have provided in the way of 
encouragement of Bert back in the days when he was doing everything with me. 
He liked very much the idea of going down on that hot mound of mine, and now 
I had found somebody else who was highly capable in the area of providing me 
with vaginal stimulation. 

Back and forth she was letting that tongue dart, and now she was pushing me 
toward the brink of climax. 

"Oh, I want it, I want it," I gasped. "Come on and work that hot tongue. 
Work it around, baby, oh, I love it. I really like that action. Keep working 
that tongue around, darling. Oh, work it, keep working the tongue." 

Now my legs were kicking with great exhiliration as she kept up those 
passionate movements, letting her tongue go to work in a blazing flurry of 
passionate excitement. 

I knew I couldn't withstand it much more. She was really getting to me with 
those fantastic sucks, and now I knew that it would only be a short period 
of time before I would be exploding. 

Suddenly my body began to convulse even more noticeably than it had been 
previously. 

"Oh, I'm going, I'm going, I'm going," I gasped. "Come on and eat my load, 
baby, oh, eat my pussy juices." 

She gobbled up every drop of juice from my mound, then removed her tongue 
from my snatch. 

"I've got to fuck you again," she said. 

She jumped up to her feet, then walked toward the bedroom. 

"Stay right there," she said, "I'll be right back." 

When she returned from the other room, I was startled to find her wearing a 
dildo. It was the first time I had ever ssen one of those things strapped to 
a girl's waist. 

I was flabbergasted as I observed that huge classic phallus pointing out 
toward me.. 

"I've got to fuck you with this," she said in a masculine voice. "Get ready, 
honey, because your husband is going to cut loose on you." 

When I heard that word husband, I absolutely flipped. Then I remembered 
something that I had seen somewhere. It was an article in a magazine, and it 
told about how very often women would assume the masculine role in sex with 
a female lover. 

This was really something. This was my own sister, and now she was 
apparently thinking of me as her wife or something to that effect. 

She moved the makeshift penis forward as she got down on her knees. 

"I'm going to part these beautiful legs, darling, and then I'm going to 
screw you," she said, "I'm really going to drill you. with this cock of 
mine. I'm going to drill you real good, baby." 

She reached out and let her fingers grab hold of my thighs. She clutched 
those thighs ever so vigorously, driving that makeshift penis into me with 
everything that she had. 

Back and forth she was sliding that dildo, letting it enter me to the hilt. 

Soon she was plunging it in all the way, driving it with passionate 
enthusiasm high inside my mound. 

"Oh, you're a great fuck, baby, you're great," she said. "You couldn't be 
better, darling. Oh, are you ever good. Do I ever love sliding this prick 
around inside you. You are a good girl, honey, and I love to kiss you. Oh, 
am I ever going to kiss you." 

As she kept on pummeling me with that makeshift dick, driving it spiritedly 
inside my mound, she leaned forward and kissed my lips. 

It was one of those lengthy kisses that really turned me on to no end. And 
while her lips were pressed eagerly against mine, she kept on with that 
fantastic action, driving that huge makeshift cock of hers deep inside my 
mound. 

She kept that up for what would seem like an eternity, after which she 
released her lips from mine and the plastic penis from my mound. 

"Wasn't that a great fuck?" she asked, sinking. 

"You really know how to wield that thing. I've never seen one of those 
before." 

"It's a dildo, baby. I guess by now you've figured out that I'm a lesbian." 

"I'm a little shocked." 

"I got fed up with men after Mike. There are too many of them around just 
like him. I don't need those heartbreaks. Besides, I found out that I have a 
lot more in common with another woman than I do with a man, anyway. Who 
needs those damned bastards? I mean, I'm perfectly satisfied having sex with 
a beautiful girl. And now that you're here, well, it's just too good to be 
true." 

She walked back into the bedroom, putting the dildo away. 

She then came walking back into the living room as I was still lying there 
on my back. 

"Now I wish you would go down on me," she said. 

"Remember, I'm a rank amateur at this." 

"Everybody is when they start," she chuckled. "Oh, I was a rank amateur at 
it once too. But I got pretty good at it, didn't I?" 

"I should say that you did," I nodded. "You really gave me a good suck." 

"O.K., that can work two ways," she exclaimed. "I would like to get a 
fantastic suck from you. I'll guide you along, baby, just stick that tongue 
of yours down there inside my mound. Better yet, why don't you kiss my muff 
a few times. I'll just lie there and you can kiss my pussy and after you've 
done that a few times, I'll just guarantee that you're going to get good and 
hot. Then you're going to want to find out what it's like to get down there 
and lick it, and once you find out just how much fun you can have going down 
on me, darling, you're really going to love it. I guarantee you that you'll 
love it." 

She made it sound so exciting to me that I was willing to give it a try. 

She got down on the rug, lying on her back. 

She was highly alluring as she lay there, so I leaned forward and pushed my 
lips against her muff. 

She trembled so noticeably, so I thought that she was going out of her mind 
when those lips of mine first pressed against that mound of hers. 

"Oh, honey, I love that," she said. "Now put the tongue to work, baby. Come 
on and let the tongue go to work on my mound, I need that kind of beautiful 
action, sweetheart. Come on and work that tongue, work it good and fast. I 
need you to lick me down there. Oh, I need your sucking, baby, you can do 
it, you can make me feel so good, just work that tongue around, darling, 
work it around real fast." 

Now I was letting the tongue go to work inside her mound. I started out at a 
slow, steady pace, trying to get the hang of it. 

"That's it, take your time," she said. "Just let things develop as they 
will. Start out slowly, honey, then let it build. Just let nature take its 
own course, darling. Oh, now you're doing beautifully, oh, are you ever 
doing beautifully. Now you're speeding it up a little. Oh, you're going 
gradually, but you are now picking up the pace. It's a beautiful pace you're 
setting, honey. I like what you're doing. Oh, do I ever like it. Oh, work 
that tongue, darling, oh, work it. I like that action. Come on and work that 
tongue, honey, oh, work it, oh, that's great, it's so great, I like the 
action. Oh, plunge that tongue around there, oh, I want it, I want it." 

Now she was alive with excitement. She was gasping and sputtering as I kept 
up that fantastic sucking. 

Now I was just as turned on as she was. I was enjoying giving her the 
pleasures every bit as much as she was enjoying getting it. 

"Keep it up, keep up that fantastic pace," she exclaimed. "Come on and suck 
it, darling, oh, suck it, work that tongue, darling, oh, do I ever love it. 
Oh, work the tongue, baby, oh, work it fast. I want it, oh, I need it, work 
it quickly, baby, oh, work it quickly. Oh, keep going down on me, darling, 
oh, keep that tongue sliding, oh, I want you to keep it sliding baby, keep 
it going, keep the tongue working, baby." 

Now I was playing with her asscheeks as I kept on letting that tongue of 
mine pursue her in a vigorous fashion. 

"O.K., move your index finger into my asshole," she commanded sharply. "Come 
on, baby, let that right index finger go to work That will excite my ass. 
Oh, I would just love that, baby, I'll love feeling that sensation. Come on 
and play with my asshole. Come on and finger that asshole of mine while my 
pussy is being sucked. Oh, you are just too great to believe, baby, you are 
a natural. To think that is the first time you're doing this. Oh, keep it 
up, I can't praise you enough, darling, keep up those tongue movements, oh, 
I want it, Oh, do I ever want it." 

Now she was trembling like crazy as I kept up that hot fervent action. 

It made me feel good to be praised by her in such a lavish manner. 

She was enjoying what I was doing for her, and I was more than happy to keep 
up that spirited sucking for her. 

"Oh, suck it, suck it, suck that mound," she said. "Oh, I'm just about ready 
to go, darling, oh, am I ever ready to shoot." 

A few seconds later the pussy juice shot out of her mound and into my mouth. 
It was a tremendous experience to sample her load in my mouth. It made me 
feel very good. Now I felt that I had accomplished about everything that 
could be accomplished in the way of female sex. 

Needless to say that proved the start of a good relationship in my life. I 
not only got as intimately acquainted with my beautiful sister as I could, I 
also became acquainted with her many friends. 

I would circulate with her in the lesbian bars in Hollywood, and it was 
really a great adventure. We would pick up the loveliest young girls, and 
bring them back to the apartment, where we would have some fantastic orgies. 

Now I think that my life is on a pretty even keel. Who the hell needs men? I 
mean, I'm having fun doing things with my sister and the other girls that I 
meet. 

Well, I must admit there are times when I wonder if my life isn't a little 
bit on the hollow side. I do see some attractive men at the office every now 
and then who ask me out to dinner with them,' I always tell them the same 
thing-that I'm busy. They'll ask a few times, then they'll give up. About 
that time they realize it isn't a case of being too busy, they recognize 
that it is a case of me simple not wanting to go go with them, for whatever 
reason. 

I often wonder if I ever will go out with them again. When I'm having some 
hot sex with another girl, I think to myself that there is no reason for me 
ever to be with men again. But then I get to thinking some more, and the 
longer that I think about these matters, the more I come to the conclusion 
that maybe this great life that appears to be wonderful on the surface could 
be on the hollow side. 

I don't know. I'm pretty confused about things at the moment. Right now a 
lot of things about life don't seem to make a good deal of sense to me. 

I can't really say where things are going to end up. 

I do know one thing, though, I do make round of the bars to often. I have 
taken to drinking a little too much, and lately I've really begun to feel 
like I'm in the midst of a rat race. 

O.K., I know that my conversation sounds like I'm split down the middle. Of 
course it does. It sounds that way because that's just about where I am. But 
I can't let Marty know just how dejected I feel so much of the time.-I know 
that girl. She would consider it to be a personal slam. She would think that 
it was her fault that I wasn't feeling more contented. 

It's very difficult to figure your way out of a dilemma like this. I just 
don't know what I'm going to do. I just realize one thing, that it isn't 
going to be an easy situation to extricate myself from. 

 SUMMARY 

Valerie R, is a victim of her keen devotion to her sister. 

Her sister could have helped her out of the doldrums. Instead, she was 
responsible for implanting Valerie into the same kind of tragic setup in 
which she was involved. 

When she saw how lovely and vulnerable her younger sister was, she took 
advantage of the opportunity and exploited her for sexual purposes. 

Now lovely young Valerie is in the torrents of a dilemma. She does not know 
quite to cope with the tragic situation that confronts her. 

The psychiatrist who examined Valerie explained part of the situation as 
follows: 

"Poor Valerie doesn't want to face up to the fact that it's either or as far 
as her relations with her sister is concerned. She wants to believe that she 
can enjoy a relationship with her sister devoid of sex, but I can't see 
where that could be possible, now that she has committed herself this far." 

Valerie appreciates what her sister had done for her as a young girl. She 
protected her then, and she was naturally inclined to go back to somebody 
like Marty when she needed some consolation in the period of great trial and 
tribulation. 

But instead of getting the kind of assistance she needed, she instead was 
pushed into lesbianism when she was in a vulnerable state. 

At the outset of the relationship, Valerie was quite impressed, since her 
sister was able to provide her with sexual stimulation. It was only after 
weighing matters in detail that she began to understand the enormous 
consequences of what was occurring. 

Relative to the bodily pleasures that one may receive through lesbianism, 
Masters asserts the following with regard to sexual response: 

"It is customary to forget, or not to know, in all of the acts commonly 
encountered among male and female homosexuals, the pleasures derived are 
quite understandable on a natural physiological basis alone. In other words, 
the body parts usually involved in homosexual contacts-mouth and anus (along 
with penis and female genetalia, as in heterosexual contacts)-are often or 
usually sensitive erotically in both hetereosexuals and homosexuals; on a 
strictly physiological level there is no reason to regard sexual pleasure 
derived from the contacts involving these parts as unnatural, perverted, or 
in any way unexpected. There is a mystery connected with sexual use of mouth 
and anus, and essential pleasure derived from such use, and what is 
mysterious is that the uses and pleasures are not a commonplace aspect of 
all human sexual relationships." 

Fortunately, Valerie's situation was not such that she reached the same 
jaded position that was occupied by Marty. 

She knows enough to realize just how warped and perverted it is for her to 
just continue to carry on with a procession of women. She is beginning to 
recognize what she is missing in her relationships with the opposite sex. 
Now that the hurts attached to the loss of Bert are departing from her, she 
is beginning to wonder what it would be like to marry again. 

Courtney Devereux, in his book, "Oral Sex" relates a tragic situation 
involving a beautiful girl by the name of Penny, who totally succumbed to 
lesbianism. 

Penny's view point became as warped and one-sided as that of Marty. He 
quotes Penny accordingly: 

"Who needs a cock? I sure as hell don't. I'm too busy having a blast with 
beautiful licking sensations. That's how two girls enjoy each other. Sure, a 
guy can give a girl's muff a workout with his tongue the same as a girl can, 
but not with the same degree of sensitivity and understanding. After all, 
I've had my pussy a long time and know a lot about how to use it and what 
makes it feel good better than any guy could. 

"I really got a sex education that glorious weekend from the sex syren (her 
girlfriend). We covered all the circuits, enjoying some beautiful 
sixty-nine. We'd trade off, with her being on top half of the time and me 
part of the time. That way we were both happy. 

"She taught me a lot of new games that I really came to enjoy. One beautiful 
maneuver was rubbing our clits together, letting our bodies sway and twist 
as we matched each other, stroke for stroke. We'd rub snatches together and 
create all kinds of fire until we shot. 

"That was fun, but my preference from that time on has been straight 
sucking. Nothing can beat sixty-nining with a good looking chick, some chick 
with a trim body." 

In the case of Penny, it would be far more difficult for her to reverse her 
lifestyle than it would somebody like Valerie. 

One has to desire change before such change can be brought about. 

The psychiatrist who talked to Valerie decided upon one course of action, 
which he related to me: 

"I told her that she was just going to have to leave her sister. I didn't 
see any other way out. She would have to assert her position and tell her 
sister that she would not be participating in that again. I told her that 
the only way to make a fresh start, was to break clean." 

Fortunately for Valerie, she worked up the nerve to tell her sister that she 
wanted to abandon the kind of lifestyle that she was leading. 

At first Marty found it very difficult to accept Valerie's pronouncement, 
but eventually she had to. 

Now Valerie is dating men, and, even though she has not yet found anyone to 
replace Bert, it is quite likely that eventually she will marry hopefully 
lead a happy life. 

The important thing to recall in Valerie's case was that she was willing to 
confront a situation head-on. When she abided by what the psychiatrist 
suggested, things picked up in her life. But it was Valerie who had to 
assert herself, and if she had not done so, she would today be wallowing in 
the same kind of semi-gloom that was a part of her at the time that she 
talked with me. 

It is exceedingly gratifying to observe a girl like Valerie being put on the 
right track. It shows that with a little understanding and some 
asser-tiveness on the part of the individual involved, changes cna be 
brought to bear for the better. 

The five case histories covered in this book all involve people who were 
caught in a tragic state of affairs. 

What separated the ones who survived from those who continued to sit in the 
same pattern was a willingness to take the bull by the horns and act in an 
affirmative fashion. 

That is the principal lesson to be learned from a book such as this. 

There is also another lesson to be learned as well, one that flows 
sequentially from the one alluded to above. That is, that people should 
attempt to be understanding toward individuals whose plight and cases they 
do not understand. 

The kind of understanding that the psychiatrists were willing to bring to 
bear in the cases of perplexed people like Valerie, Glenda, and Kurt, 
ultimately aided those people in at least being able to determine where they 
stood in life. 

In closing, I would like to thank those professional men of dedication for 
cooperating with me in this pursuit. 

Through our joint efforts, we were able to bring an important message home 
to a number of readers-that it is important to study a problem in detail 
before commenting on it. 


BIBLIOGRAPHY 

"Variations In Sexual Behavior," by Dr. Frank S.Caprio, Grove Press, Inc., 
New York, 1955. 

"Forbidden Sexual Behavior and Morality," by R.E.L. Masters, The Julian 
Press, Inc., New York, 1962. 

"The American Sexual Tragedy," by Albert Ellis, Lyle Stuart, New York, 1962. 

"Sex Without Guilt," by Albert Ellis, Lyle Stuart, New York, 1958. 

"Oral Sex," by Courtney V. Devereux, Venice Publishing Corporation, Van 
Nuys, Calif., 1971. 

"The Mother-Son Sin," by Gil Lyons, Valley Circle Publishing Inc., North 
Hollywood, Calif., 1972. 

"Older Women Who Prefer Young Boys," by Gil Lyons, Valley Circle Publishing 
Inc., North Hollywood, Calif., 1972. 

"Daddy's Girl: A Study of Incest," by E. Barnes, Valley Circle Publishing 
Inc., North Hollywood, Calif., 1972. 

'Adults Who Molest Minors," by Marvin Brady, Valley Circle Publishing Inc., 
North Hollywood, Calif., 1972. 

Incest In The Black Ghetto," by Spencer Washington, Copley Square Press, 
North Hollywood, Calif., 1972. 


THE END
