Chapter 1
A Cloud of Drummers
"I breathed in the tangy salt scent of the ocean and the sand and turned my head to look at him again. It still seemed hardly possible.
"At the moment he was watching a pair of teenagers ride a surfboard to the shore, and his hazel eyes studied them critically.
"I smiled. 'That's right. The last time I saw you, Billy, you were trying to get Uncle Bill to buy you a surfboard in the worst possible way.'
"His handsome, disconcerting adult face broke into a grin. 'I got it, too, and the idiot thing became my entire existence for the next five years. Five years! You were the reason I got it, too. I think they felt guilty about splitting us up, so they gave me the board.'
"My arms began to feel uncomfortably warm. I sat up slowly, reached to the suntan lotion and began rubbing my shoulders and arms-with the sun heated cream. 'I don't think I'm flattered.' We smiled at each other, both of us still a little overwhelmed at being together after eleven years!
"Looking up at me, his face serious now, Billy started to say something, then hesitated. 'Missy.. . . ' He tried another smile. 'My dear Melissa.. . . If you only knew. . . . ' He shook his head, as if to dispel all eleven years.
"Suddenly a cool breeze seemed to go right through me, and I had an urgent need to reverse the conversation, to get it back to its former bubbly lightness. I didn't want to think of what it was that made me feel that way, but I'd never forgotten, not really.
"From the time I was three and Billy was five our two families had shared a duplex in a small town outside New York City. Aunt Lorrie and Uncle Bill were as much a part of my life as my own parents, and their son Billy was my friend, brother, hero and first sergeant all rolled into one, aside from being my cousin. Mom and Aunt Lorrie got along fairly well for sisters, just as I got on okay with Beverly, my little sister, but the relationship between Billy and myself was a whole other thing. We formed a universe of our own, one shared only with the creatures and manifestations of nature itself, the woods, the sea, the earth and the sky, and, of course, all the noises, movements and imagery of each that might or might not be threats from which only Billy could protect me. We were happy together.
"I don't know when we began discovering that we were different-that Billy was a boy and I was a girl. At first, though, the information that we were supposed to be natural enemies confused us. Then, under pressure from our peers, we went through a miserable period of pretending to grow apart.
"We'd spend long, boring hours with our classmates, Billy feigning interest in knocking a ball around a field with the other boys while I mimicked the girls I was with and dressed and undressed a stupid doll who patiently regarded me with unblinking eyes. Then, when we felt we'd satisfied the others at last, we'd find some excuse to sneak off and be together. Once our time alone became stolen and secretive, each moment became even more precious.
"As soon as we could, we pretended to enter that pre-teen 'mature' stage where you suddenly are aware of the other sex again. All we cared about was being together, and slowly we found ourselves dropping our new relationships and taking up where we left off, not giving much of a damn how anyone felt about it. We'd dip into the woods for hours of exploration, whooping it up as joyous Indians one day, a pair of white explorers the next, and perhaps as a young couple the third, looking to clear the land and set up a log cabin. Once we spent three whole days pretending we were lost on an island, and we
'found' our own food and created our own world. The game started as soon as we set foot into the woods and ended when we left at night for home.
"The beach was our second favorite place, and we nagged our parents to take us until they were as glad as we were when we were finally old enough to get there on our own. We'd spread our blanket as far from the crowds as we could, plaster each other with lotion, and slow-bake after a quick dip in the rolling waters. Then we'd stuff ourselves with sandwiches, pickles, cookies and warm soda, all seasoned with sand and gooey lotion. Afterwards, tightly side by side, we'd blink up at the brilliant sky and explore the clouds together, eager to see what wonderful stories the universe had to tell us that day.
"It was a great life, and I loved every minute of it. I wanted my childhood to go on and on, and I didn't think, deep down, that we'd ever really grow up or change. We were the Peter Pans of the world, and for such as we the clouds, the sea, the earth and the woods would always perform.. . .
"I suppose I was almost eleven when I felt the very first fluttering of sexual awareness. Oh, I was as aware of sex itself as any kid of the day. I'd seen graphic instructions and such plastered on walls, I'd heard the other kids talk about it, I'd seen my folks naked from time to time, I'd done my share of sneaking around and reading so-called dirty books. Several years before, Billy had been given some pictures by another boy and he'd showed them to me. They were of a couple, and while I don't suppose there was much they missed in the way of sexual acts, it was their hopelessly out-of-date hairstyles, the woman's choice of makeup and the fact that the man always wore his shoes and socks-white!-that got to us more than what they were doing to each other. We laughed so hard I thought I'd hurt something in my left side, and Billy wasn't in much better shape, either. But the sex itself seemed kind of, well, dumb and meaningless, as if they were funny old-fashioned dolls being pushed into uncomfortable-looking positions. It had nothing at all to do with what I began to feel within myself when I was nearly eleven.
"At first these strange sensations didn't have anything to do with my beloved cousin. He was thirteen, and much more interested in finding the right type of branch from which to make the perfect slingshot. But then I began to notice Billy in a slightly altered way. When we went to the beach, for instance, I found myself glancing sideways at his firm young body which was already losing a little of its boyishness. Or when he'd pick me up or carry me someplace I'd find that I regretted it when he released me, that my flesh was wonderfully warmed by his. There were other things, too, and they began to disturb me more and more, mostly because, for the first time in our relationship, I felt a sense of secretiveness that was apart from all the shared ones. I didn't even know if I was happy or sad.
"I suspect Billy began to go through some sexual self-awareness the very next year, when he was fourteen. At twelve I had already developed a cute little set of breasts, and my string bean hips were taking on a little padding. My long carroty brown hair tended to get oily more quickly now, so I washed it and brushed it out a lot, and it was beginning to take on a luster that was something like the magnificent coat of Billy's favorite horse at the stable. All of a sudden, out of nowhere, it suddenly hit me that Billy was spending a lot of time just looking at me, as if he couldn't quite believe what he was seeing, or couldn't believe he was liking to look at me all that much. For a few days it put a new strain on us, but we soon got used to enjoying each other in this odd-duck way.
"Sometimes, especially after a long day with Billy, I'd go home and feel sort of achy all over, as if invisible hands were stroking me very, very gently. My little nipples would feel sore and tingly, and the insides of my young thighs would feel an urge to clamp together every so often. I didn't really understand what I was feeling, but part of me liked it, anyway.
"The girls at school would talk about boys all the time, and they'd compare this boy to that one, this teen-aged singer to another one. Some of the girls would try to get me to put in a good word for them with Billy.
" 'I think he's the cutest boy in town, Missy. He's got the sexiest eyes. And those muscles! Mmmmmm! Too bad he's your cousin!'
" 'What . . . what do you mean?' I asked, confused, my mind lingering on Billy's muscles and eyes, a little annoyed that Joyce, a stranger, practically, should have noticed, my Billy's eyes and muscles.
"Joyce laughed, 'I mean here you get to spend so much time with the cutest boy around, and he's your very own cousin! That's like having Elvis as a brother or something. Fat lot of good it would do you.'
"I wasn't so totally out of it that I didn't know what my pretty blonde classmate was talking about. Billy was okay as a friend even though he was my cousin, but that was all. I mean, cousins couldn't be lovers or anything like that. They couldn't even marry each other. It was a big no-no. I walked away from Joyce feeling more miserable than I'd felt in ages, and I didn't even know why!
"The next day Billy picked me up early and we took off for the beach. It wasn't officially summer yet, but it was a school holiday and there was a good chance the beach would be swarming with people later in the day. We decided to find a particularly isolated spot somewhere, so we could pretend we'd just been washed up on a distant shore, forced now to fend for ourselves or starve, our very favorite game through the years, a game for which we had countless variations.
"We walked along the beach for miles that day, heading out away from the populated area into the rocky inlets until we finally found a cove that was perfect. It would take an energetic couple as young and determined as us to reach it, since arriving at the small beach of very white sand involved a difficult climb from the next beach. The rocks above were so steep we couldn't even be seen from the main road.
"We felt as if we had indeed been washed ashore by the time we dropped our picnic bags to the sand and spread out our blanket and towels. It was still early but already the sun was hot. Eagerly we got out of our jeans and shirts, stripping to our bathing suits in a race to see who would be the first to hit the water. We were both good swimmers, and we raced through the water like a pair of dolphins, exploding with giggles as we broke for the shore and our towels.
"I was wearing my brand-new bathing suit, a real bikini. Actually, the suit was a compromise between my mother and myself. I was holding out for one of those French bikinis, the ones with the little strip on top and the G-string around the hips. Mom wanted me to get one of those two-piece jobs that went out with the Stone Age, so we compromised on this one, a suit she'd never allowed me to get if I hadn't started out crying about being the only kid around who wasn't allowed to swim practically stark, staring naked.
"My bathing cap was too tight, so I was busy attempting to peel it off without removing half of my hair from my scalp. But once I had the thing off and was shaking my hair freely around my shoulders and down my back, I suddenly became aware of Billy's undeniably hot eyes on my body. The suit was a vaguely Hawaiian pattern in shocking pink, a knockout, I'd figured, when my skin darkened with the summer sun. It obviously didn't look too bad now, the little top encasing my bouncy small breasts with their pouty tips, the bottom outlining my hips and the cup of my sex more than covering them up. I'd wanted to look good that day-all the more so because of Joyce's oddly disturbing remarks-and Billy's eyes told me I looked damn good. Pleased, I pretended not to notice and turned my attention on getting together a midday snack without including a cup full of sand in the menu.
"All the while we ate, I noticed Billy's preoccupation with my body, and I could actually feel my young body ripening and responding to his grave interest. Somehow, on some level I didn't understand consciously, I sensed this was a special day, and that everything we were doing at each moment was, in a special way, setting the scene. All thoughts of playing stranded castaways were gone now, even though we'd gone to such elaborate lengths to set our stage for it. I also sensed that, for once, I was the more knowing of the two of us, I was the elder, and I had an absurd desire to take Billy's hand and pat it, as if to reassure him that everything would be fine. I found myself humming and glowing as I worked cream over my pale limbs. Then I fell to my back on our blanket, shaded my eyes with one hand, and settled down to soak up the sun's warm rays while I waited for whatever it was to happen.
"Billy was restless next to me, his strong body tensing wherever it touched my flesh. Presently he pointed to a patch of whipped clouds high above us. 'A horse. A pretty white horse.' He gestured with the pointed finger. 'See? The long neck. The swishy tail. Darker. Sort of silver colored.' As he gestured his elbow grazed my soft breast. He dropped his arm as if it had been burned.
" 'I see the horse, but it looks more like a woman to me. The silver part is her hair. It's streaked.'
"He nodded mutely. Then a slow grin returned to his face. 'She's not as pretty as you, Missy.'
"A terrific excitement gripped me at his unexpected words. I stared straight up into the cloud-horse-woman. 'Really? Do you think I'm pretty, Billy? Do you really? As pretty as the other girls in school?'
" 'Them pigs?' he asked, outraged. 'Are you kidding? You're the best looking girl in that whole school! You must have rocks in your head, thinking any of them others are as pretty as you, Missy. Rocks. Boulders. Like those.' He pointed now to a wall of chunky clouds, and I giggled, because they looked exactly like an avalanche of boulders, caught and stopped by some heavenly camera just to prove Billy's point.
"Much more relaxed now, we continued naming clouds, playing an old, safe game while our healthy young bodies secretly thrilled to every casual touch of flesh against flesh, and I knew that not even the sun warmed as brilliantly as the heat of my cousin's body. I grew to enjoy the oily, trembling feeling in my belly and between my legs, and I just hoped my little nipples looked good, all stiff and hard under my suit's bra, because there didn't seem to be a thing I could do about getting them soft again. I happened to glance down once at Billy's loose trunks, and I couldn't help noticing the big bulge which hadn't been there before. Then I'd looked away while my heart skipped another beat or two.
"His voice seemed to come from a long way away. 'Like a what?' I mumbled, so lost in sensation now that I was completely out of tune with the mundane sounds of speech.
" 'A cloud of drummers,' he repeated, nodding up at some bunched clouds riding low in the sky.
"For some reason that struck me funny. I turned my head to him and giggled. 'A cloud of drummers? A cloud of drummers? What's that?' It felt good to giggle, sort of like pushing all the goose-bumps in my body together in one visceral hiccup.
"Billy turned on his side, facing me. His sheepish smile faded then brightened as he stared down at my bare tummy. His fingers slowly began to dance on the smooth flesh. 'Drummers. Dum dum dum dum dum . . . dum.. . . '
"I gasped suddenly, and my hand caught and held his in a gesture so automatic and urgent I didn't stop to think I'd brought his drumming to a stop flatly against my stomach. The pleasant, warm, itchy teasing was over . . . and I didn't know what had come in its wake.
"Billy felt the same. His breathing was all wrong and his hand was sweaty hot. I don't know when he moved or even, really, if it was he or I who moved first. But we were kissing and touching, and even the sun seemed to draw a deep breath and hold it. Neither of us had any experience, yet there was none of the nose bumping confusion of a first kiss. We'd been building to this for a very long time.
"His arms were strong around me and my suit top slipped down almost on its own. There's no way to neatly stack what happened in order; everything just tumbled together so that in one lucid moment we were almost kissing and in the next he had one hand cupping a breast, the other inside the panties of my suit and inside the tight little slit between my legs, and I was feverishly returning his passionate kiss while my small fist was snugly encasing his pumping hard cock. Then I was being flooded with the sudden eruption of his loins, my hand and belly drenched with what might have been his first ejaculation, for all I knew. Or cared, because at the first impact of his orgasm Billy shoved a finger farther up my slick cunt and everything went white-hot for an earth-shaking split second while I groaningly spasmed with what was most certainly my very first come.. . .
"The rest of that day was a hazy yet crystal clear dream, an endless, unforgettable day, marred only by the inner knowledge that not only would we force ourselves to 'forget' it after all, but that it would, in spite of us, end all too soon. With a tact only children and fools seem to have, we silently agreed to call this day a time, out from reality, so that in spite of knowing that what we were doing was taboo, we would do it anyway, now that we'd begun. But only for now, only for this one, bright and joyous, golden day.. . .
"We touched each other in the water, entering the slapping sea hand in hand. I explored him very thoroughly, allowing him the freedom to do the same with me. On the beach again we kissed while I worked the loose skin back and forth over Billy's swollen cock-head, this time milking the come from him, already aware enough to sense the whys as well as the hows. He used the towel to wipe the sticky cream from my fist. Then his fingers returned to my inner thighs, prying apart the smooth, lightly haired little lips. He'd already discovered that I reacted strongest of all when he'd accidentally touched the little organ above my vagina. Centering his attention there, he rubbed and tickled, fondled and tugged on the stiff thumbnail of hot flesh until once again I was moaning and shivering, plunging over some intangible wall, happily tumbling into inner space.
"We napped a little, but not too much, then feasted as if we hadn't eaten in months. Then we napped a little more, and when we woke up we were pressed so tightly together it was only natural that his cock, hard again, should be firmly wedged between my legs, nesting in the slick furrow there. Again on a nonverbal level we'd somehow agreed not to commit ourselves irrevocably -he made no attempt to penetrate my virginal slit. Yet it was impossible to believe that could feel any better than what we were doing, and as he humped me I tightened my thighs as much as possible, and his every stroke rubbed my clitoris and brought me closer to that wall again. This time we reached it together, and his hot cream spit all over my firm, round bottom and dripped slowly into the warm sands beneath us.
"Then the day was over. We had to dress quickly after a fast dip in the water, and it was almost dark before we'd finished our long climb back to civilization. Hesitating before sinking into the throngs of tourists deserting the darkening beach, we looked deeply into each other's eyes for a last time, silently promising to forget, while, on a much deeper level, we also promised to remember this day forever. Then we started home."
Melissa D. had strong feelings of guilt and sought professional help. It was not till the fifth interview that she finally began to talk about her childhood years. Even though she knew that neither the state of New York, not the state of California included marriage between first cousins in their laws against incest, she could not shake the feeling that what she and her husband had done was terribly wrong.
She had an intense desire to become the mother to the children of the man she had so deeply loved and cherished ever since she was a little girl. But, like so many other--even well-educated--people she was convinced that those children would have horrible birth defects, either mental or physical.
Though on the surface the marriage seemed a happy one, nagging doubts about inferior offspring ultimately prevented her from enjoying sexual intercourse. Her husband-and cousin-began to cast about for other women who "would be like
Missy when she was younger," clearly stand-ins.
It was at this point that she sought help.
Alfred Adler, in Understanding Human Nature wrote:
. . . boundaries to the love life may be set in early childhood. After a brutal education in which all tenderness is dammed up and repressed, a child withdraws from the circle of his environment, and loses, little by little, contacts which are of utmost importance to his soul. Sometimes a single person in the environment offers an opportunity of concord; when this happens the child joins himself to his friend in a very deep relation. This accounts for the individuals who grow up with social relationships directed to but a single person, whose social tendencies can never be stretched to include more than one other human being.
Even though neither the parents of Melissa, nor those of her cousin Bill, were overtly brutal to their children in a physical sense, it becomes quite apparent that we can consider both children to be neglected on an emotional level.
Beautiful though the relationship may seem at first glance between Bill and Melissa, it should be pointed out that neither was able to form any other relationships with playmates outside of their self-chosen little circle of two.
Even the onset of puberty when girls become interested in boys, and vice versa, was not capable of breaking the tight bond these children had formed. In a sense, the children were lucky to be of opposite gender. The fact that they were also cousins is rather immaterial at this point.
It does not make much difference, at least not to children, whether parental neglect or parental brutality is real or imaginary. If a child believes that he is either neglected or brutalized, he will react to it as if it were an actuality. And, consequently, he will seek a person who will pay attention and show tenderness.
Yearly, thousands upon thousands of youngsters, some in their pre-teens, run away from home, firmly believing that they are not wanted, that they are maltreated, and that they are severely misunderstood. Many of them have a good reason to believe this because such a situation exists in fact. Most, however, only think that this situation exists while in reality nothing could be farther from the truth. The problem is to convince them that they are mistaken, and that a reconciliation could easily be effected by a third party. Unfortunately, in most instances there are not enough third parties to go around. Thus can be explained the tremendous success of the hippie movement of the middle and late sixties when the kids banded together in their own subculture.
Melissa and Bill experimented sexually, even though they did not have actual sexual intercourse. Though heavily frowned upon by society, almost all children, when given the opportunity, experiment sexually in one way or another. They do this partly out of curiosity, partly because of their intensifying sexual drive. "Puppy love," the first emotional involvement is the next step, and from then on the period of dating sets in.
Normally, however, these steps in sexual development involve a variety of partners. How far the children go depends largely upon the limits set by the peer group.
Again, Bill and Melissa did not follow this rather normal pattern. They had only each other.
Consequently, when the families broke up, and when the children were forcibly separated, they both-after an initial search for each other-began to look for a companion who resembled their childhood partner as much as possible. As Melissa readily admits, she did not love her first husband. He performed sexually very well, he provided more than adequately for her, and she "liked him." She liked him especially because he reminded her of her cousin. This was the only reason she consented to marry him. Her reaction to his death was one of regret, regret that she had not been nicer to him.
Bill faced a similar problem. In all his years of marriage he kept making a "Freudian slip." During intercourse, and in his sleep, he called his wife by his cousin's nickname: Missy.
It is no wonder, then, that the old flame was rekindled the instant they met again. They met as old friends, as ex-"almost"-lovers, and neither one of the two had any intention of being separated again.
"Nothing more was ever said about that day, and on the surface our friendship was the same as ever. Only it wasn't, really, not for either of us. My body ached for the touch of his, and I went ice-cold when I saw another girl approach Billy. I suspected his reactions were pretty much the same toward me, and I don't know what would have happened if we hadn't been forced into different paths so soon afterwards.
"I don't remember, if I ever actually knew, what our parents started their fight over, but after so many years of friendship, everything blew apart. The house was put up for sale, we kids were forbidden to have anything to do with each other, and my dad transferred to the Los Angeles plant. It all happened so suddenly, there was no time for rebelling or secret plans. If there had been, we probably would have run away or something. As it was, I was dragged off to a relative's house in the Bronx where we stayed until we got on a plane for California. The last time I saw Billy was when we drove off towards the Bronx. He was standing in the window of his room. When he saw me, he lifted his arm as if in a wave, then his face dissolved into tears. I was crying so hard I couldn't even stop when it was long obvious that tears were pointless. . . .
"I'd hated California more because of my intense desire for Billy than for any other reason. My need for him dulled in time, of course, and the years passed. I finished high school, went to college, got a part-time job, and eventually married Jon.
"Sometimes I wondered if it was the slight resemblance to my cousin Billy that attracted me to Jon in the first place. I'd long ago given up on finding Billy again. I had no idea where his family had moved, and the one of two ideas I'd had panned out to be failures. I honestly thought I loved Jon when we married, but the entire relationship was like a car engine that never quite turned over. We went through all the normal motions of making love, going out, seeing friends, shopping, planning on a baby some day, but the truth was that ours was a sad excuse for a marriage. Both of us were sorry, and neither of us wanted to come right out and label it such, so we sat through three years. We might have sat through fifty, if fate hadn't stepped in. Jon was killed on a busy New Year's eve, attempting to drive to the all-night market for more ice cubes, while I stayed home and entertained our guests. In spite of the lack of depth in our marriage, I grieved for Jon and experienced real pain that I hadn't been able to make his young, short life happier. I vowed then that I'd never marry again unless I had something deep and meaningful to bring to the relationship. So, a widow at twenty-four, I felt many times older and wiser.
"I went back to work at the bank, began accepting dates after a few months, rounded out my life with hobbies and friends, and moved to an attractive apartment house with a pool in the North Hollywood area. Whenever I met a man who attracted me sexually, I allowed the relationship to grow. I was not a prude, and I needed sex as much as any woman my age. Sometimes, just once in a great while when conditions were just right and something in the air had a special tang to it, when that final push into bliss carried a certain extra something, my mind would tiptoe back over impossible cliffs to a long-ago day, a forbidden day, and the scent of salt and the sea would fill my nostrils for a brief, wonderful second.. . .
"Then, with the marvelous mystery of real life, something no story can improve upon, Billy walked into my life again, with no warning or introduction.
"I was at the bank, greeting customers with that somewhat frozen, glossy smile a teller gets toward the end of a long day. I'd just handed some old lady her bankbook and was sorting her bills when I gave the same automatic greeting to my next customer, without quite looking up.
" 'Hello, Missy,' said a voice made even less familiar by the use of a nickname I'd not used for years.
"The next few seconds, when I recognized Billy yet could barely piece him with my faded memories of a young boy, were ecstatic and tearful. Then I remembered where we were. Fortunately the bank was about to close. I excused myself, found a friend, told her about my eleven years-lost favorite cousin reappearing, and she was happy to finish my work so I could take off a little early. I grabbed my purse and sweater with one hand, Billy with the other, and we took off.
"Billy had come by cab, so we used my car, went out for dinner, and made some attempt to catch up. He told me quickly that he had moved to
Fort Worth with his family, had attempted to run away from home six times, had once made it as far as New Mexico, had gotten into some trouble in Fort Worth, and finally ended up in the army where he became interested in mechanics as a career. He also told me that he was married, divorced, and had a son, four, whom he rarely saw since his ex-wife had remarried. I gave him as sketchy a rundown of the eleven years from my side. For the most part we just marveled at being together, accepting the strangeness of the situation. Billy had worked hard and now owned two garages back East. He was out here, he said, partly on business and partly to try to find me, following a tip given him by a friend of a friend that included my married name. He beamed with pleasure that he had, after so many years, tracked me down.
"After dinner Billy had to see some people on business, and didn't expect to get back to his hotel until late. We agreed to meet in the morning. We would, for old time's sake, go to the beach.
"I went home overwhelmed with happiness at seeing Billy again. The happiness lasted while I got ready for bed. But once I got into bed my mood changed. I mentally pictured the Billy I used to know, and wondered at this new, strange, handsome man who had reentered my life so suddenly. Why had he come? And why had we agreed to go to the beach? Was it because he wanted to swim, or was it because he, too, remembered that day? Somehow the idea that seemed so right an hour or two earlier now seemed threatening. Why had Billy come looking for me after all these years?
"The sheets felt uncomfortably tight around my body, and I kicked them off. Still too warm, I slipped out of my gown. Naked and very much alone in the dark, I began stroking my body almost before I realized what I was doing. Then I was ashamed and confused. Sighing, I turned over, closed my eyes, and willed sleep to come.
"With all this on my mind, it was no wonder I reacted to so lightly personal a remark as Billy saying, 'If you only knew. . . . " I had to get a grip on myself or admit . . . admit that, after all these years, I was feeling something I knew I shouldn't be feeling.. . . Instead I breathed in more of the salt air and let the sand trickle through my fingers.
" 'You look wonderful, Missy. All grown up now, yet still the same. More beautiful. God, I've missed you, honey.' His hazel eyes were bright.
"I tried to smile, to keep it light. 'You didn't turn out half bad yourself, Billy. Now let's see . . . who can I introduce you to? I can't let an unmarried cousin go to waste when there are all kinds of girls out there.' I couldn't meet his eyes.
"His hand touched my wrist. 'Missy.. . . Hell.. . nothing's changed. That's why I came to see you. That's why I'm here. Either we go on playing games, or we talk. Really talk.'
"The most insane part of it was that I knew exactly what he meant. My eyes burned with tears of confusion.
"His voice was very gentle. 'Look at those clouds,' he whispered close to my ear. 'A cloud of drummers. And his strong fingers drummed a moment on my bare belly and, again, I reacted.
"After all those years my fingers closed around his and a helpless gasp eased from my throat. Billy grinned, took my hand and led me to the car. We drove to my apartment in silence. Even my mind refused to work.
"Once inside, Billy pulled me into his arms. His kiss was scented with the sea and suntan oil. His fingers peeled my suit from my weak, shivering body. All eleven years peeled away with the suit.
"He carried me to the bed. 'We're not kids anymore, honey. We're responsible for our actions, every one of them. You were the reason my marriage didn't work. I know it was different for you. Your husband died. But one look at you in that bank and I knew nothing had changed.' His mouth closed gently over my lips.
"In that moment my whole lifetime shattered and began to take on new form. As quickly as that. This was my Billy in my arms again. He loved me. And I loved him. I always had. And would. I'd spent most of my life waiting for this moment. I returned his kiss with a fullness that answered his.
" 'Oh, Missy!' He looked down at my body. Then he bent over and sucked a ripe nipple into his mouth. His other hand cupped my other breast. Once more it was like that day on the beach. Only this time we had a knowingness to bring to each other. It easily replaced our long lost innocence.
"I parted my legs smoothly while Billy fitted his face between my thighs. Gently his hand pried the little lips apart, just as they had years before. Only this time it was his tongue which found my slit and hard, waiting clitoris. I arched my back and moaned as my cousin began to lick my pussy, lovingly running his tongue all over the tender flesh. Other men had done this to me. Jon had been particularly good at it, but never had anyone made me feel like this. I wrapped my legs around his neck and held on. Shock after shock of pleasure hit me, amplified by the added ecstasy of glancing down every so often to find Billy, my Billy, after all these years.
"I remained perfectly still while he slowly licked a fine trail up over my flesh. He kissed my breasts and returned to my thighs, breathing feathery kisses everywhere. I came in a delirium of happiness and, frantic to return his loving, I slid around on the bed. My mouth found his hard crotch. Pressing my parted lips to the bulge in his suit, I blew hot air against his throbbing flesh. When he moaned and began to struggle against my face I relented and worked his suit off his slim hips. The man-sized cock that greeted me was startling, reminding me again that what I'd left behind was, after all, just a boy. This Billy was more a man than I'd expected. Not that I was complaining, not in the least.
"I opened my mouth eagerly, working my tongue up, over and around his prick. A drop of pearly cream eased from the dimpled top and I savored it slowly, wondering idly with that small part of me that could still think and question-just how far that 'flesh of my flesh, blood of my blood' bit went, anyway. It was so strange, but now that I was fully embarked on what seemed to be my destiny with my cousin, I ceased to wonder about the so-called sinfulness of the whole thing. Or to give a damn about it, either. What I cared about at the moment was taking every last inch of his swollen man-flesh in my mouth and sucking it so magnificently that if we were to part again, he'd have something to remember for another eleven years. I got busy doing just that.
"Billy groaned and thrust his hips at my mouth as I began to slip down on him, fitting my mouth cave-like over him, glove tight, hot and wet, intent on sucking him dry.
"I nearly gagged before I was able to finally hide him inside me. But the hugeness of him felt wonderful, too wonderful, too sexy. I forgot about drawing the act out, applying all the oral artistry I'd learned from various lovers. I just began to move up and down on that wonderful, sexy prong, supercharged with desire from being with Billy. How many of the faceless men in my dreams were Billy, I wondered? And how, even for a moment, had I been able to share my flesh with any other lover?
"I was rewarded for my efforts in seconds, swallowing hugely in order to keep from gagging on his thick come. When Billy was finally emptied, I licked and sucked him until he became shriveled and so sensitive he couldn't take more of my loving. Then he pulled away and forced me to his side.
" 'That was . . . , ' he struggled for a word, then gave up. Shrugging, Billy settled for a long, sweet kiss instead. Our naked bodies met in a kiss of their own, and I knew it wouldn't take much to get me going again. I pulled away slightly, thinking this might be a good time to talk, to work things out, to find out if we had found each other again only to separate once more.
"But Billy was in no mood to talk. He pressed me back into the mattress and reached down for my still-pulsating vagina. He fitted one finger into me, then added a second one. He moved slowly, touching every inch of my slippery inner flesh, probing and exploring, teasing and exciting me until I began to whimper helplessly into my pillow.
" 'Don't, Billy.. . Don't, darling.. . Ooh . . . that feels so . . . so . . . good. . . . ' My hips began rising and falling, following the impossibly slow, studied pace of his fingers, and a little piece of my mind felt a sense of rage that he must have learned this magic from another woman's loins. 'Stop that, Billy. . . . Stop that before I come all over your hand. . . . " I sighed.
"He grinned over me. 'How many times can you come in one night, Missy, honey? Ever find out? Let's find out, okay?' He worked his fingers in and out of me a shade faster.
"My nipples, having softened, began to swell up again. Billy sucked and tongued one, then began to chew gently on the other. The hot, syrupy feeling began .to drip through my veins. I was actually gasping and jerking my hips like crazy before he took pity and added his thumb to his actions, bumping my clitoris with every stroke into my womb. Now I was completely covered. I humped the fingers, accepted the wonderfully strong prodding of his thumb against my throbbing clit, and could only arch my back to offer Billy as much of my sore titties as he cared to chew and suck. I came hard, moaning and twitching, and it wasn't until I completely finished spasming before he allowed me to go free.
"This time his kiss was passionate and demanding. 'I love the way you move,' he whispered against my mouth, 'I used to dream about the way you moved for me that day on the beach. And in every dream I cursed myself for being such a fool. I should have shoved my cock into you on the spot. I should have forced you to take it, made the decision for you instead of settling for game-playing. Do you realize that every woman I've fucked, all these years, has been you? Do you know that one of the reasons my wife left me was that she just couldn't take my calling her by your name night after night?' His voice was tender, without bitterness. But I felt his pain with an answering wrench from my own long denied desire for him.
"We moved our tongues together silently. Then, as he continued to whisper, I shot my tongue in and out of his ear in a sudden frenzy of desire to not break contact with each other on one level or another. 'I can't talk when you do that, baby.. . . But that feels so good . . . so good . . . I'm going to fuck your now. You know that, don't you? I'm going to push my big cock into you all the way and keep it there forever. Forever, baby.. . . Spread for me, Missy. Spread for me the way I've dreamed of you opening up for me all these lonely years.. . . '
"I sighed and held him tightly as I obeyed, my legs opening like silky robots, as if I were a doll he had to command instead of a mature adult who needed that prick of his inside her at least as badly as he needed to put it there.
"He waited until I was opened as wide as I could get. Then he bent over, bringing his mouth to my crotch. With one long, sucking kiss he drew my entire clitoris into his mouth. 'Oh, my God!' I cried out from the intensity of the unexpected contact, 'My God!'
"Instead of pulling away from my pussy, Billy bent even lower, shot his tongue into my juicing hole, withdrew it, then plunged it fully into my pouty little anus, the last thing in the world I'd expected. It was a new sensation for me, and it happened so quickly he was already gone before I could realize just what he had done. 'That felt wonderful,' I told him once he was back licking my pussy. 'Would you . . . would you do that to me again, Billy? One more time?, ' Now I was hot all over, deliciously vibrating with ecstasy.
"He complied willingly, turning his talented tongue to my virgin bottom, reaming it out until it was as wet and almost as open and hot as my cunt itself. I was too worked up to be able to take it when he planted another sucking kiss on my clit -I came as soon as he began to suck on it. I squirmed against his face like a desperate animal but somehow he held on, forcing me to take his sucking while I spasmed wildly. I was weak by the time he quit.
"Billy got to his knees over me, and wiped his wet face on a corner of the sheet. Then he reached down and held out his big cock for me to see.
"Although I was still weak from the last spasming, I was fascinated by the hard tool I knew was about to be buried into me. I suspected that all that had happened so far was just a buildup to this fuck, and that this was to be the fucking of my dreams, the fucking Billy had silently promised me on that beach and was finally about to give me. All the tiredness left my limbs as I reached down for his meat. In some unspoken way I suddenly knew I would have to make the first move, that I would have to impale myself on his cock first. Then he could fuck me, ride me until I was sore and begging for relief. But first I would take the lead and, in so doing, show him I was totally his, completely his. We changed places effortlessly.
"I looked down at my cousin, my lover, my love, as I got to my knees on either side of his hips, raising myself as high as I could until I'd placed his shaft directly below my oozing hole. Then I began to sink down on it.
"There's no way, no words to describe the achingly marvelous sensation of sinking down on Billy's thick cock. I'd been fucked many times before, by several sensitive and loving men, but nothing had ever felt like this. Even when it began to hurt, even when I began to fear I might be split in half by his prick, I still continued to lower my rump to his belly, loving it in spite of hearing my own groans turn into moans of mixed pleasure and pain. Just when I thought I couldn't take any more I was grinding my cunt against his balls and belly. I rested for a moment, faint with the ache and fullness of him, dizzy with the ecstasy of sitting on my cousin's monstrous cock.
"Billy allowed me that moment, but that was all. Holding me tightly so that as little of him as possible slipped out of me, he rolled over on my belly. Then he began to ride my cunt, and I was lost to a whole new world of sensation once more. He stroked and shoved, moved slowly, then rammed himself into me. His cock speared me, soothed me, threatened and rewarded me, and I no sooner got used to his plunges when his hips began to spin in wide circles, fucking me crazily, fucking me like no one else had ever dreamed of fucking me. He bucked and prodded, then, finally, settled down to a system of complicated strokes which I was helpless to do anything more than appreciate. I came only a moment before he did, so that my cunt was a sucking, toothless mouth, milking the come out of his balls in a way that had him crying out with ecstasy. Then, at long last, we slept.
"I didn't question Billy when he moved into my apartment that night, and I didn't question him when he moved me back to his home town. When we had to lie to the judge about our relationship to each other so we could be married, I didn't question him either. In fact, the only question I had was why he made us wait eleven years. . . . "
Melissa and Bill D. are both undergoing group therapy. It must be stated again that both were sufficiently well educated to rapidly understand that there was no scientific proof that marriages between first cousins produced deficient offspring. Statistically, the only thing that has been established so far is that first-cousin marriages are slightly more fertile.
The problem for which they are seeking help is that they cannot relate emotionally to anyone else but their partner. Since it is, in such a case, not too farfetched to assume that children born out of their union may become as neglected as they were, Melissa and Bill decided to join a sensitivity group.