Introduction
"I put my purse in the back seat and checked the other cars around us. It was utterly dark out, illuminated only by streams of flashing colored blocks of light from the projection booth. I couldn't see the other cars, much less into them, so it seemed un likely they could see us.
"I slid over close to Don, close enough to touch. My dress rode up my thighs, which is exactly what I intended. I could feel him shudder and I wasn't surprised. I imagine very few boys in their teens have aunts who act the way I do.
"The picture was starting-some lousy piece of crap; that was obvious from the first frame. 'I have a hunch this is going to be rotten,' I told Don.
"He was so cute. He answered me without taking his eyes off the insipid picture, obviously nervous about our touching legs, my bare thighs, and the visible crotch of my pink panties. He said, 'Well, we can always leave.'
" 'And we can stay, too,' I answered. 'Even if the picture's a bomb, we can always figure out something to do.'
"He still didn't look at me. Nor did he answer. I decided to be a little bolder. After all, I had a bet on with my husband, and I had no intention of losing it.
"I let my left hand drop in between his legs, up in the area where the thighs thicken, and almost immediately I could feel the fabric of his denims draw taut, a sure sign of a quick hardness. God, but these sixteen-year-old kids get hard fast when they are with a mature woman-especially if they've never fucked before. For a woman who digs a real, honest-to-God hard on with lots of vitality behind it, nothing in the world quite equals a teenager. And I should know.
"I looked over to Don. His eyes were riveted to the screen. Maybe my husband had been right-maybe Don would be just plain too terrified because I was his aunt. How silly, I thought. What's wrong with keeping it in the family?
"Well, I considered, maybe some stronger tactics were in order. I let my fingers drift upward a little and discovered that he was wearing button-down jeans and also that his prick was bolt-hard.
"Don took a quick intake of breath and seemed to freeze. His whole body tightened, as in the grip of genuine fear. Apparently his mind was not accepting the circumstances, despite the obvious intention on my part. I decided to bring the whole thing out in the open so that he could not possibly misunderstand. At age sixteen, a kid like Don should be able to meet sex head on-even if that stick-in-the-mud sister of mine did bring him up.
" 'Don,' I said, leaning close to his ear, 'you wear your pants awfully tight, don't you?'
" "They feel okay, Aunt Miriam,' Don muttered, his voice seeming to crack.
" 'But isn't it uncomfortable when your prick gets hard?'
"I knew that would get him. My husband had earlier suggested it as a tactic if Don didn't react fast enough. He had told me that the effect of direct sexual words on the ears of the initiate teenager should do wonders. When I said 'prick,' Don seemed to sit up straighter, as if on cue. But he didn't answer me. But there was a real tension-a sexual tension-in the air and now I was certain that my husband had been correct. I pursued the matter further.
" 'Didn't you hear me, Don? I asked you if it wasn't uncomfortable in those pants when your prick gets hard.'
"He mumbled, 'I dunno. Never thought about it, I guess.'
" 'Never thought about it!' I repeated, laughing heartily. 'Doesn't it usually get hard when you're here with your girl? Or didn't you think about it then either?'
" "That's different,' he answered.
"'Different? How? I'm a girl. A little older than you're used to, perhaps, but nevertheless a female. And your prick is as hard as a rock.' With that, I ran my fingers up and down the length of it, laying there against his stomach, sheathed in that impossible denim. Again, he bolted as if shocked by electricity.
" 'See?' I added. 'It's good and hard. And just to be a good Samaritan, I'm going to help you get it out of your pants to make it feel better. You certainly wouldn't be able to enjoy the show like that, now would you, Don?'
"I sensed that Don was extremely excited, and bewildered, and terribly self-conscious. Something deep within him wanted him to form the word 'stop' on his lips and then utter it, but the more opportunity nature's elements had to work on him, the better chance I had of gaining the upper hand. Time was on my side, if I could just stop that first word from being uttered. I rubbed up and down his cock some more and then began fiddling with the buttons, which were harder-than hell to get loose. Finally, I reached inside and then had to get inside his shorts, too, and, at last, after long minutes of fumbling, I felt my cool fingers come into contact with bare, hot, nervously excited, throbbing flesh. It was so hard; so painfully hard, I guessed, that I was very delicate and nimble-fingered as I fished the whole length of the thing out of his pants. Don was visibly trembling now.
" 'Oh, God, Aunt Miriam,' he said in a shaky voice. He probably had something else he wanted to say; a protest, perhaps, for I definitely sensed that there were unspoken words hanging in the air. But nothing more came out, and I was absolutely certain now that this lovely nephew of mine would be putty in my hands from now on. Quickly, I contemplated all the lovely things we could do, already trying to stage the whole seduction in my mind.
" 'You just relax, honey,' I soothed, as I began stroking his cock, paying particular attention to the sensitive skin on top. I only had two fingers-a thumb and forefinger, rather-working the stalk of it, slowly, in long, light strokes, all the way from his balls to the head. 'Feel better?' I asked.
"He made an incoherent sound again, which just spurred me on.
" 'Let me unbutton your pants all the way,' I said.
"That way, I can play underneath your balls, too. You'll love that.'
"He sat dead still a moment, neither acceding or rejecting, nor helping or resisting. I began with his belt. It seemed to me this was the crucial test, and when he did not resist, I knew everything was going to work out just fine.
"I undid his top buttons and the pants came completely open. I opened his shorts all the way, too, and now, for the very first time, Don assisted me by first lifting and then sliding down in the seat a little, loosening the way his clothes hugged him, effectively taking his pants down a bit by rearranging his position.
" 'Oh, that's nice,' I told him as my whole hand encircled his cock. 'Beautiful. Oh, Don, tell me-how long is it?'
" 'I dunno,' he muttered.
" 'Have you ever fucked a girl with it?'
Again a stammer, but not quite so pronounced, as he answered with a negative grunt.
" 'Well, you should. Fucking is the greatest thing in the world.'
"No answer. But no further resistance, either.
"Now I was stroking him steadily with my whole hand, not fast, but with a deliberate tempo, and full strokes, too-the kind that I know from my experience with young boys they cannot stand for very long. I tightened my grip a bit and sped up the tempo just a bit. It only lasted a few minutes.
" 'Oh, Aunty, you'd better stop,' he implored and drew away.
" 'Why, honey?' I asked innocently.
" 'I'm going to-'
" 'Going to come?' I helped.
" 'Yes, yesss-soon now ... don't ... you'd better....'
"I stopped completely and I could see that he was torn between relief and anxiety. I didn't need to be told what to do.
" 'Can you move the seat back?' I asked.
" 'Sure,' he answered. 'Do you want me to?'
" 'All the way,' I instructed in a happy voice. This is the moment I love so much in my relationships with young guys. Being the staging director of our own little production is a great kick. My husband tells me after I recount the experiences to him that I am satisfying a maternal urge when I do things like this, but he's no psychiatrist, so I sort of take it all tongue in cheek.
"The seat was back now so that there was plenty of room between Don's groin area and the steering wheel. I lifted myself up a little so that I could slide my panties off, and as I did so, I could smell that wonderful, meaty, aromatic odor that I always emit when that cunt of mine gets worked up. I hadn't felt it yet, but I knew it was sopping wet.
"Don continued looking at the stupid picture, as if transfixed. 'Are you really that interested in the picture?' I asked.
"For the first time, he smiled easily and said, 'Sure. That's what we came for isn't it?'
" 'Nope,' I answered clearly. 'I came for this,' and with that declaration I squeezed his cock again. Then I raised myself, disengaged my hand, and threw my right leg completely over him, straddling him in a perfect face-to-face position. With a deft move, I reached down and guided that wonderful engorged cock into that steaming cunt of mine. It slipped right in, all the way up to my kidneys, it felt like, and I could feel all of those wonderful juices of mine flowing everywhere up inside me. I had no intention of ruining things with needlessly precipitate moves at this point, so I just sat there a few seconds, savoring the marvelous feeling of another new young cock, this one all the better because it was my own nephew; and doubly fine beyond that because I had once again proven to my loving husband that I could accomplish anything sexual that I set out to.
"Tenderly now, and as dispassionately as possible under the circumstances, I planted a nice aunt-like kiss on Don's lips, which I discovered to be dry. Poor kid. This must be quite a shock, if nothing else. I damned near felt contrition. But I knew better, actually. If all those books I'd read told the truth, young men hang on to and relive their first sexual experience with great ardor and passionate memory. That's exactly the way I wanted to be remembered.
"He didn't really return the kiss. I think he was trying to work things in his mind and figure out just what it was that was happening to him, and just how that rigid trembling prick of his was feeling at this moment. Now I was certain he was a virgin. Just the thought of getting another virgin made my pussy even wetter, and I couldn't resist beginning a slight up-and-down fucking motion again.
" 'Will you come too fast if I stroke a little bit-like this?'
" 'I-think so.'
" 'Well, we can't have that,' I told him. 'Why don't you look over my shoulder at the picture-maybe that'll take your mind off this.'
" 'I don't want to take my mind off this.'
" 'And I don't want you to shoot too fast.'
" 'You don't?'
" 'Not here. It's too messy.'
" 'What then?'
" 'Well, I'll tell you what. If I promise to make you feel real good right now, will you promise to take care of me when we get home?'
" 'Home? Jesus-what about Uncle Harry?'
" 'He sleeps like a log. Promise?'
" 'I guess so. What're you going to do?'
"I was already dismounting. Without a word of explanation I moved away a bit to give myself working room. Then I looked at Don and told him, 'Now you just watch the picture. Try to concentrate on it. I don't want this to be over too fast, either.'
"With that, I leaned forward and ran the tip of my tongue up the shaft of his prick, starting way down on the balls-as far underneath them as space would permit, that is-and working my way up to the tip, employing a butterfly tongue technique as I approached the head. I did this two or three times, and although I usually like to keep this up awhile, I heard Don moaning above me and figured that he was probably close. I especially like to keep lapping at a cock that's already been in me a little like his had, because then it has my own cunt juice all over it. Anyway, I quit the preliminaries and worked my way to the one last time, and when I got there I popped the whole thing in my mouth and went all the way down in one thrust. Sometimes I like to do it like that, anyway, just to get things started quick. For one thing, when I'm blowing a kid, whose prick is usually smaller than a man's, I can take the whole thing in my mouth right up to my gullet with ease, which is a real good feeling. I like to feel the head of a cock butting against the back of my mouth, and I've learned to get my tongue wrapped around the bottom curvature of it in almost all positions.
"Anyway, I took Don's whole prick in up to the hilt and then felt his fuzzy pubic hair tickling my cheeks. Then I began a good hard in-and-out sucking motion, all the while stroking in full, deliberate strokes-in to the tonsils on the downstroke, and out almost to the point of extraction on the upstroke. I also remembered my husband's advice about keeping my tongue in constant motion.
"I heard a little groan just before it happened. I sped up the tempo until it was furious and then-I was rewarded. God, what a freaky feeling! I guess I love the taste of cum, especially from a young kid, more than anything in the world. It tastes a little different from every boy, but in another manner of speaking, it tastes the same, too-youngish. Don gave me shot after shot. I thought he'd never quit. But he'd never be able to deluge me. No one ever had. I could swallow it just as fast as they could give it to me. And then he was drained. I kept sucking a little bit, to get it all, but then I finally sat up.
"Don didn't say a word. He seemed to actually be watching the picture. I asked him, 'How was it?'
" 'Jesus,' was all he said. "I was tickled. I love to leave them satisfied. "And now I could concentrate on other things. My own satisfaction, for example."
Women like Miriam abound in our society in more ways than one. First, there are a significant number of them who actually consummate their desires, such as Miriam, simply because they have come to terms with themselves and see little promise of fulfillment if they pursue only that which is historically or socially permissible.
The other group, which comprises a far greater number of females, does not consummate its desires, but rather finds methods of sublimating, substituting, dissociating, and otherwise denying themselves the thing they actually crave: sexual contact with younger men, with family members, with symbols of virility. Restated, it can be said that a significant group of older women (especially American women) desire sexual liaison of a forbidden nature, but cannot, for any one of a number of reasons, realize this wish.
In this writing, we are dealing with a phenomenon which contains several disparate elements. Sexual relationships between aunts and nephews are first of all incestuous since, by definition, they have a consanguineous base (we are not dealing here with non-blood ties), and secondly they are usually pedophiliac in makeup. In those very few cases where the aunt is younger (or in the same age bracket) as the nephew, a somewhat different set of emotional dynamics comes into play.
Thirdly, it is a fair statement that liaisons between aunts and nephews cannot reach fruition unless someone initiates the congress. Further it stands to reason that it requires an unusual teenage boy to brazenly proposition his much-older aunt. Therefore, exceptions admitted, the aunt must be the aggressor and in many ways she must dominate. The boy need not be especially submissive, though this is usually the case during the first seduction. Altogether then, it can be assumed that aunts must provide the impetus for the relationship, and unless the incestuous longing is so severe as to be primary, and contains maternal overtones, the only logical motivation which can be assessed is hypersexuality. And, in fact, this happens to be a rather constant factor in such cases.
As regards incest, it is not fair to assume that all aunts who seduce their nephews do so because of (1) emotional expiation for not having a son of their own, or (2) a sibling rivaltry of adult proportions with their sisters. It is very popular to take either or both of these views, but they are vastly unfair if they are made without benefit of extensive psychoanalysis.
Aunt-nephew incest has an interesting history.
Down through the ages, and especially in France during the Revolutionary period (and for a long while thereafter), it has often been a family habit to "farm" out budding young males to a favorite aunt for "social indoctrination," which term meant sexual instruction. While it is true these young men also learned to be socially adept in the drawing room and a thousand other niceties from these aunts, the principal academics involved were love-play, kissing, fondling, coitus, fellatio (received, of course), cunnilingus, and perhaps a few more daring things, such as anal sex, flagellation, etc. More often than not, the natural uncle was also in the home, but custom being what it was, he usually went along with the little game. Sometimes also, the "instruction" took on a troilistic tone if the uncle was so predisposed. Here was opened the door for homosexual instruction. Even today, in the United States, much pedophiliac-troilistic activity is initiated by an older man with an attractive wife who can be used as a decoy for unsuspecting young men. Only one other ingredient is needed to upgrade those relationships to our current topic.
The history of incest gives us relatively few literary facts except on the mythological or symbolic levels. One might even say that the incest taboo extended to writing about it. There are some interesting references about the ancient Egyptian and Mongol cultures, but beyond that, any specifics would be conjectural. We do happen to know of the aura of incest from many cultures, but the reasons, attitudes, and application of the proscriptions would require, for rounded understanding, better data.
In the tersest of terms, we can conclude that historical and cultural reasoning has given us this message: No act of man, with the possible exceptions of murder and the desecration of idols, carries a stronger taboo than incest. And taboos, according to Freud, exist only to prevent man from doing something which he both desires and fears. With such a provocative premise to lead us on, we should find this a fascinating topic.
Of course, it should be realized that every prime reference to incest, be it historical or psychological, deals on the severest level with parental incest. Mother-son incest is regarded as the most psychologically destructive, with father-daughter incest running a poor second. Sibling incest takes a distant seat in terms of damage to the participants. In our summation of the psychologic components in the first case history (Martha-Dave), we will draw the obvious parallels between aunt-nephew and mother-son incest. Because the aunt is more often than not a mother-surrogate, the ties and nuances of interaction here become intriguing.
This leads us to the obvious conclusion that there is a considerable psychodynamic difference between aunt-nephew incest of paternal descendancy (aunt being nephew's father's sister) and aunt-nephew incest of maternal descendancy (aunt being nephew's mother's sister). In the paternal construction, the boy can in no way identify the aunt with the mother, and therefore his blood guilt lies in the direction of the father and plays a distinct role in the formulation or resolution of any residual Oedipal questions. Let us suppose the boy is barely pubescent-age fourteen, say-and that psychologically he teeters on the brink of an Oedipal fixation; in other words, his leftover and fragmentary Oedipal complex inclinations are in a state of irresolution. A liaison with his aunt will serve to polarize all the fears and doubts he imagines concerning his relationship with his father. If other conditions are just right, and if the constellation of feelings and responses are in such disarray as to be totally influenced, it well might be that such a sexual experience will resolve the boy's questions for him. Sometimes homosexual tendencies are thus locked into place.
On the other hand, the maternal construction of aunt-nephew incest can range in result. Sometimes, if the boy identifies strongly enough with his mother, especially if she is alive, he can become greatly disturbed-even to the point of total dissociation and loss of reality. But for this circumstance to prevail, the boy must first of all have had severe doubts of his mother's love for him, he must have great unresolved questions regarding his own worthiness, and he must identify fully with the aunt. Generally, the physical appearance of the aunt will have much to do with it. In the case of the aunt and mother being twins, chances of psychic damage are increased.
Usually the aunt, in any construction, will be the younger sister of either the father or mother. Her own motives for promoting the relationship with the nephew will be several, but usually we find that she is not primarily motivated by family considerations; in other words, she has no pathological drive which forces her to identify in once-removed sexual terms with either her sister or brother.
Her reasons usually relate to and are grounded in pedophilia and hypersexuality.
Female pedophilia is sometimes referred to as the Jocasta complex (which term, like so many others, is drawn from the Oedipus Tyranmis of Sophocles-Jocasta being the wife of King Laius of Thebes and later the wife of Oedipus). Stated as simply as possible, pedophilia takes root in two principal forms and three or four ancillary forms. At root the female pedophile seeks to regain lost youth through sexual identification (or proof of desirability). Secondly, she tries to avoid the possible disparagement of older, more experienced men, for they will be sufficiently sophisticated to be able to criticize her performance. Obviously, these two motivations are a form of self-doubt, or, more correctly, what Harry Stack Sullivan has called "customarily-felt low self-esteem."
As it happens, female pedophilia is also related to incest wishes. That is to say, it is related to thwarted incest wishes. The mature woman is quick to realize the forcefulness of the incest taboo, as regards herself and her son, and thus she curbs any desires which may become vitalized. Women who do not have sons (or any children at all), but who are heterosexual in makeup, understand and can intellectualize the incest prohibition, but they have no way to effectively internalize those feelings. She has no tent at hand. Unconsciously, she puts herself, time and again, into the imagined test position, but it is a fruitless pursuit, Finally, at a level approaching conscious thought, she reasons that she can determine her own worth by experimenting with quasi-incestuous sexual relationships. To do so, she must find someone who could realistically pass as her son. Thus the age brackets are established.
Female hypersexuality is also related to self-doubt, although some other elements crop up. Hypersexuality should never be confused with nymphomania, which is an uncontrollable, compulsive, and. often confining aberration of severe proportions. Most men who dream of finding a beautiful "nympho," wouldn't want her if they actually found her. Hypersexuality, conversely, does not imply any of the "uncontrollable" elements of nymphomania, except perhaps that hypersexual women are a bit promiscuous. How else can they properly expose themselves?
Hypersexuality is a result of the interesting phenomenon whereby a woman somehow purges herself of the need to kowtow to social convention. Its causes are pretty well established and seem to deal in general with the need to prove oneself, again and again. Just as a pompous, mesomorphic, extroverted salesman must prove himself again and again through the vehicle of sales, the woman who doubts her own worth will sometimes become oriented in such a way that sexual proofs exceed the worth of other types of proof. The woman who slaves from morning to late at night competing with men in the business world is not too much different from the hypersexual woman, except that her orientation is not sexual.
Aunt-nephew relationships usually do not reach the courts. When they do, it is usually on a nominal charge such as "contributing to the delinquency of a minor," a misdemeanor. In most states consanguineous incest is a felony, and in states such as California (where Section 285 of the Penal Code carries a maximum of fifty years), a person so convicted might easily end up in a state hospital and legally adjudged to be a "mentally disordered sex offender," a situation requiring observation by state doctors for as long as they deem necessary.
It is surmised today that aunt-nephew incest is not nearly so uncommon as one might suppose. One legal authority has told this writer privately that such cases "occur and are stuck away in every nook and cranny of the country." One naturally looks for such explanatory things as motivation when considering the phenomenon of sexual trends. If, for example, aunt-nephew incest is on the increase, could it have anything to do with the general relaxation of sexual views in America?
One wonders if the easier discussions of sex, the burgeoning literature, the avant-garde theater, the revealing fashions-indeed, our whole approach to the "now" life-style-might in some way be acting as catalysts.
If these conclusions and suppositions are false, then the search for the truth will be long and hard, and most likely unrewarding.