Case History 14: The Lascivious Uncle And Niece
At the age of seventeen, Karen G. had evolved from incest to early teenage torrid promiscuity, and back to incest once again.
The subject of her new incestuous relationship was her mother's forty-nine-year-old brother, who, upon leave from his foreign position as news attach,, was spending a short vacation with his divorced sister and niece.
The subject of Karen's first incestuous relationship had been her father. She had provoked him into the encounter and shortly thereafter, he had fled the household. It was sometime later that her mother obtained a divorce on the grounds of desertion.
When Karen's uncle arrived, he made a great impression on her. His name was Ronald and he was extremely attractive. He talked in a clipped, precise manner that seemed foreign, although he was an American citizen. He was a bachelor, had never married, he claimed, because a man in his work cannot have family ties.
Ronald was a guest in Karen's home less than three days when Karen tried for a seduction. He was in the guest bedroom. Karen was in the hall. Ronald was in pajamas and robe. Karen wore a short, transparent negligee. She entered the bedroom.
"Well, hello there," Ronald said pleasantly to his niece.
"Good morning," Karen replied.
"My early morning prowling didn't disturb you, I hope," Ronald said, his eyes holding steadily to Karen's, although he knew that his stare was forced and strained by the effort it took to keep from glancing at the well-revealed curves of her body.
"You didn't disturb me at all," Karen said, walking the rest of the way into the room. "I've been up for hours."
"An early riser, eh?" Now, the eyes did stray, then they bugged as they fastened at Karen's bouncing, vitality packed tits.
Karen was glad that he was looking at her like that. She had become very accustomed to men looking at her body, all the time looking at it until eventually they touched it and made love to it.
"My word, but you are lightly dressed, aren't you?" the uncle said. Now his eyes moved boldly down her front, leaving tits to touch at waist and navel and thighs and cunt mound.
"I'm always lightly dressed," Karen said. "Do you know why?"
"Afraid not."
"I'm always lightly dressed because I'm always so goddamn hot."
"My word."
"The word, Ron. That's what I'm giving you."
"My well, I do declare," he said, stuttering somewhat. Karen laughed. Then she walked close to her uncle, not pausing until her extended tits brushed at the front of his bathrobe.
Ronald gulped, then darted his eyes to a table at the side. There, he found an excuse for movement away from the seductive and determined young girl. He walked over to the table, picked up his pipe, then began filling it with tobacco.
"You always smoke a pipe?" Karen asked curiously.
"Ah, yes, I do."
"You like it?"
"Quite a lot, as a matter-of-fact."
"What else do you like, Uncle Ron?"
"Oh, many things. Food, for one thing. I'm quite a gourmet, you know."
"Food. Oh, fuck food. Food and smoking a pipe." Karen's voice held a strong note of loathing.
Ronald lighted his pipe, then puffed upon it.
"Well, Ron, let's get down to business. Do you know why I'm here?"
"To visit, I presume."
She laughed, very hard, then upon quieting, she said, "You presume wrongly, Uncle Ronald."
"Well then, tell me, why are you here?"
"To tell you to come down to breakfast," she laughed at him.
Karen broke up over the expression on her . uncle's face. It was a cross between relief and disappointment. Karen laughed and laughed and laughed. She laughed leaning over, allowing her tits to hang nearly out from the bodice of her negligee. She laughed leaning way back, with her hands on her hips in a wanton pose that revealed every line of her fine young body to Ronald. She revealed her straining nipples as she brought her tits up high and threw a lustful look at her uncle. And then she laughed again, departing the room and making her way down the stairs and to the breakfast that was waiting.
If Ronald was disappointed in the reason for Karen's early morning visit to his room, he was not to know that emotion late the same night, when, with the entire house in blackness and Karen's mother sleeping in her room only a dozen feet away, the girl returned to her uncle's room, paused at the edge of his bed, looked down at the sleeping figure, then dropped her nightie from her shoulders and to the ground and quietly and in utter nudity crawled beneath the covers and next to her uncle.
"Shhhh," she said when he jerked awake. "And if you say anything, I'll scream and say you were forcing me."
It is not known what threshold Ronald had to the provocation of his niece's naked body next to him in the darkness of the night. It is not known what any man's threshold would be to such brazen provocation. It is not truly known if incest is a. sufficient deterrent to stay the hand that moves upon the tit, to halt the knee that thrust at thighs for an opening of cunt flesh, to deny the hot, foil lips that were open and waiting to take and bite and draw upon a tongue. It is not known if any man could deny that hand that reached beneath covers to unravel his cock from pajamas.
And so with Ronald, it is unknown exactly what his emotions were after Karen crawled into bed with him. But it is known what transpired.
Ronald grasped Karen to him and held her body against him with all the strength he could muster from his arms. And his knee did press for a welcome. It wasn't necessary; it was only a gesture, like asking for something one knows will willingly be given. But Ronald pressed and he found his welcome. He found much more than that, too. He found ten hot ringers that helped relieve him of his pajamas. He found a night figure of a girl hunched on her knees and bent over him, kissing at his cock flesh, at the hardness she had herself created. Kissing at all of him, kissing all the time, and always constantly lower, kissing. And soon, when the kissing had stopped, her uncle knew the softness of tits striking against his chest in a back and forth motion that Karen created by quick shifting . movements from her shoulders. And then, when both of them sensed that Ronald could know no more without knowing all, Karen rolled to her back and gathered her uncle into her arms hungrily.
Ronald was not a young man. He was certainly nothing like the boys Karen had pursued at school and at the country club. He reminded her somewhat of her father who had fucked her. And here he was now, above her, slowly pressing, finding his way, making his cock strikes, gathering speed as he pressed in and out of her cunt flesh, and taking all the time in the world for this incestuous act of love with his niece.
Karen responded with a moaning, grinding, body-crunching orgasm, the--likes of which she had not known for a very long time. And when it was over, despite Ronald's nervous pleadings, Karen insisted upon spending the rest of the night with him, and did not leave his bed until early the following morning.
For the remainder of Ronald's visit, Karen continued to pursue and win her uncle's sexual commitments. They were, by all the standards of Karen's active sexual life, successful lovers, showing consideration for each other, and with Karen always achieving a climax.
Although she hated to see him leave, Karen was not left sexually destitute by her uncle's departure from her home. There were many young men, and a few older ones, too, who awaited his leaving so that they could resume their relationships with the hot-blooded, incest-inclined, youthful girl.
Karen finished high school at age eighteen. Disinclined toward work and busy with numerous dates, she submitted her application for entrance to a city college, then waited out the summer, filling it with as much pleasure as was possible.
By mid-summer, Karen had tired of the young men she knew and directed her sexual interest toward older men, especially, for some subconscious reasons all her own, those older men who were also married and had families.
Karen created encounters with two neighbors, each of whom was in his middle years, married, and the father of several children. She also managed to sexually know a former schoolteacher, the college counselor by whom she had been interviewed, the manager of the store where her mother bought all her clothes, the corner druggist, the market manager down the block and several residents of homes in the surrounding neighborhood. Indeed, it seemed that she hadn't missed anyone.
Karen was only a month into classes at college when, pointedly due to a late menstrual cycle, she decided to get married. The groom of her choice was a man in his early thirties who had known her since she was a child and had once been employed by her father during a summer vacation from college.
Karen accepted his proposal at once, but thought a few words of warning were in order.
"I'm not sure I'm in love with you," she explained.
"That's all right," her lover told her.
"I'm rotten. You know that, don't you?"
"Yes."
"Do you know how rotten?"
"No."
"Filthy's the word, honey, just damn filthy. That's what I've been."
"It doesn't matter," he said.
"Do you know what it'd be like having me for a wife?" she asked.
"Wonderful, I hope."
"Well, you're wrong. It'd be hell. You have to know that."
"So, then it would be hell," the man said.
"I think I had better go on a little," Karen said. "I don't want any repercussions when we're old and gray."
"All right. Go on, if you want."
"I do. And I will." She paused, then said, "Do you know that I'd probably never be true to you? That I've got something with me that keeps me going after men."
"I'll take my chances."
"You'll lose."
"Maybe."
"Can you guess how many men I've fucked already?"
"No."
"Do you want me to tell you?"
"No."
"Well, I'm going to anyway. I don't really know how many, but I do know that it's in the Hundreds of hundreds, men."
"I've thought about it," he said. "Not that many. But I've thought of the men you've had and how it might affect our marriage."
"And how will it affect us?" she asked.
"I don't know. like I said, we'll have to take our chances."
"And you want to, eh?"
"Yes."
"Man, what a glutton for punishment you are."
Upon this note they embraced, sealed their vows with a bond, then drove to a motel to bind the bargain a little tighter with some lovemaking.
Karen was married in white. Her mother cried. Karen didn't. Not until after she got raging drunk at the wedding reception her mother gave for her at an exclusive country club.
The marriage went badly from the very start. It never had a real chance. Yet, it continued for eight long years eight years of fights, physical and verbal, eight years of Karen's almost constant and compulsive adultery. Her husband had sought a hostile-dependent relationship rather than only a wife. If it were not for this, the marriage would have died a quick, painless death. But the marriage lingered and the adultery and fighting and drinking and misery continued until, at last, the couple decided upon a divorce, separated, then a year later, secured the final decree.
Karen didn't need to make any adjustment to an unmarried status. She had been living like a single girl all during her marriage. She merely continued the pattern that was so well known to her. The difference was that she had a rather sizeable alimony check each month to sponsor her adventures. And all of Karen's adventures were sexual in nature.
Karen spent the years between her twenty-eighth birthday and her thirty-fourth year, continuing her nearly insane drive for sexual encounters. She found and had men in the most un-likely places. And she found many places, for it became her habit to travel a lot, both within the country and abroad. Although her looks were beginning to fade, her body was still exquisite and her flippant, sexually centered attitude, made her attractive to many men. During these years, Karen experienced few orgasms. Most of her sexual encounters had been made for other and deeper reasons than sexual needs.
At the age of thirty-five, Karen married a second time. At thirty-seven she married a third time and a fourth marriage resulted at the age of forty. She was incapable of being faithful. She could not love. Nor could she accept true love when it was extended to her. Not until it was too late; not until youth had passed her by and she carried that drained look that one often experiences after a long and unpleasant hospitalization.
Karen was in the rear of a taxi cab being driven to a destination to meet a new lover an older man, fairly reminiscent of her father. Suddenly, she started screaming. She screamed insanely. She ripped her nails down her clothing, tearing it into shreds, then turned her attack upon the upholstery of the taxi cab.
The driver drove until he came to a police car. Then he stopped. The police had all they could do to hold Karen, now naked and still shrieking, but they managed to detain her until an ambulance vehicle arrived to take her to the city hospital.
Soon, Karen was transferred from the city facility to a private mental hospital far from the city. And there she spent six tortured years of remembering, of thinking of the past, trying to orientate the present, and planning for a future that at most promised only aloneness and bleakness.
"We'll never really know what caused all of Karen's problems," said her psychiatrist recently. "Cases like this are made up of combinations of so many things. So many, many attitudes and ideas and environment and the growth and experience of the child growing up. But as regards the incest and the incest wishes that were a part of her, there is no doubt that she suffered emotionally because of her incestuous experiences, especially those with her father. To another person, these experiences may not have caused such a violent reaction, but to Karen it spelled doom and despair and all the wretched elements that go to make up a futile, valueless life as she had."
"But is there hope for Karen now that she has finished her hospitalization?" the doctor was asked.
"Very little, I'd say," he answered.