Chapter 3
'I'LL BET YOU I CAN'
"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 top 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.
"We sat through the rest of the picture, which I actually looked at now, and I didn't do anything to try to get him started again. Oh, I held onto his prick, of course, just like any red-blooded woman would, but I didn't jack him off or even fondle him with much of a movement. There were other reasons for this, too, because I did have certain commitments to my husband. But I'll go into that later.
"There was something especially delightful about Don. As it happened, we all lived in the same town, but we didn't get together much, simply because my sister and I didn't get on the way sisters should. For one thing, she was a much older woman, nearly fifteen years my senior, and we just belonged to different generations, almost. Actually, I was much closer in temperament and outlook to Don, her son, and since I had married a man of arts and letters whose view of life was very broad and loose, we couldn't really communicate at all with my sister and her husband, who worked in a foundry doing uninteresting things. The only reason I had Don with me now is that my sister's husband's father had passed on, and they had decided to travel cross-country for the funeral. I was to have Don for two weeks. And I planned to take every advantage of it.
"I tried to put the pieces together in my mind. I had definitely promised Harry, my husband, to bring Don home in good condition. By that, he meant he didn't want the boy to be drained. Actually, I think I would have blown him again in the car except for that. His cum, like most boys' cum, had that tart, astringent, almost bitter taste that is so good and lingers on so long and makes one want to keep licking the lips. Anyway, back to the point: I had promised my husband that I would bring Don home in good condition and then we would go into our act, which always had worked out well before. I guess it pays to have an imaginative old man.
"The picture concluded and I helped Don put his hard prick back in his pants. As a matter-of-fact, we had quite a struggle of it and finally he had to open the door a bit and straighten one leg before his cock could be squeezed in. As soon as this was done, I felt a little bad about it because my hand had gotten used to having his lovely piece of meat in it, but I was able to tolerate that, considering that it was only a twenty-minute ride home. Oddly, during those twenty minutes, Don did not seemed disposed to talk very much. I thought it would be most suitable if I talked about such things as the picture, but he wasn't having any. I could tell his mind was on sex, and that he didn't care for any interruptions into those thoughts. Not even a sexual interruption. I guess that he was really having a time with himself over this experience. I didn't know whether this was good or bad, although I've always been inclined to believe that kids come out best when they're taught to be straightforward and natural about sex. The worst experiences I have had have been with those young men whose families surround them with all kinds of prohibitions and weird ideas.
"That's one thing about Harry and me; we've no stars in our eyes and we don't wear rose-colored glasses. We both accept what we are, what we do, and the fact that sex is a great thing in our lives. Harry has always told me that he doesn't regard the world as being wrong just because they don't believe or do as we do, just as he believes the rest of the world should give us the same latitude we give it. Now that strikes me as being sensible. We don't harm anyone; if a young boy doesn't respond to my suggestions I just leave him alone (there have only been a few like that, however). If the kid wants to fuck, though, what harm am I doing him? What's the difference if he learns to fuck at fourteen or fifteen instead of a few years later? A couple of centuries ago, girls were old maids if they hadn't married by that age.
"We were halfway home when I suddenly discovered what was bugging Don. I should have guessed as much.
" 'Aunt Miriam,' he began, 'how can you be sure Uncle Harry won't catch us if we do what you said?'
" 'I told you, darling-leave it to me.'
" 'But he could get mad and blow his top. I've read of people killing each other for less.'
" 'Well, Harry's not like that at all. You'll just have to trust my word, darling. But consider the fact that I've been living with him for years, and
I should know.' " 'Yes, you should.'
" 'Alright then. In the morning you'll know more about it than you do right now, and believe me, it'll all make a lot more sense to you then.'
"I wasn't sure if Don had picked up on the slight difference in what I had said just now and what I had suggested back at the drive-in. Earlier I left the impression that my husband wouldn't know-now I had implied that he just wouldn't cave. Good, that represented progress; all I really had to do was take care that my beautiful little nephew didn't bolt. If I was now deprived of this gorgeous young man's cock, I might have gone out and shot myself.
"I suppose I felt that way because this was the first time I'd ever screwed a relative of any sort. Even my father had left me completely alone in that respect. It had something to do with incest, this great excitement I was feeling. I was probably hotter than I'd ever been. I could think of no other plausible reason.
" 'Aunt Miriam,' Don said a minute later, 'why can't we just drive out in the countryside somewhere and get out and do it on the ground?'
"My heart raced for a second and I almost agreed. That would have been so exciting! But no, I couldn't do that to Harry! Through the years of our marriage I'd never done a dirty thing like that. I said to Don, 'I hate it like that. I like it in a nice soft bed. And I wish you'd quit worrying about my husband. I've already told you that everything will be fine.'
"Again, he seemed to accept the idea and we rode on in silence. Considering his doubts, I felt that I should put sex in his mind again just before we reached the house. And the best way I know to accomplish that is just to start talking about it.
" 'Don,' I began, 'you seem to be so much in doubt about whether we should really do it when we get home. What's the matter? Didn't you enjoy the way I played with your prick and then sucked it off for you?'
" 'Oh, yes,' he answered quickly, 'I loved it.'
" 'Well, I should think you'd be anxious to get home and get in bed with me so you can stick it in my cunt.'
" 'Yes, yes, lam!'
" 'Well, so am I, honey. My cunt's dripping wet, I'm so hot. And if I know my husband, he won't be any good to me. So if you won't fuck my cunt for me, I'll probably just have to get dressed again and go out and find some other stud to fuck me.'
" 'Oh, no, don't do that!'
" 'Why, honey?'
" 'Why? Well, because I don't want you to.'
" 'But why? Would you get hot laying in bed alone, thinking about me out somewhere fucking some strange guy?'
" 'Look!!! Just don't do it!! I'll take care of you.' And then, after simmering down a little bit, he added in a low voice, 'Oh boy, will I ever!'
"Now then, I must admit that exchange left me a hotter pussy than ever. I had worked up his enthusiasm, and he was so hot I expected him to sizzle over the top of any second. And a hot guy makes me hot.
" 'Can't you drive a little faster?' I asked.
"We hit the driveway and the lights were out. We got into the garage without any noise and then sort of sneaked our way into the house and into the bedroom. I told him that Harry would probably be asleep in the den instead of the master bedroom, but Don insisted that we play it safe by going to the guest room, which we had given him.
"As soon as we were in the bedroom, he turned to me and pulled me to him. Even with the lights out I was able to back him up until we hit the bed, where we fell, linked together. Immediately my hands were on his pants again, trying to get them off, and then I almost shouted with glee when I felt his hands on me also, running up my legs, anxious to get at my pussy. Then he whispered to me, 'I want to find out if this is as wet as you said it was.'
" 'I can get my clothes off quicker by myself,' I answered.
" 'No, I want to do it.'
"So I kept on with his jeans, and he kept struggling with the unfamiliar women's garments. It seemed to take forever, but at last we were both down to our underwear. He could wait no longer. He took me in his arms and almost crushed the life out of me in his ardor. That's another thing I love about these young boys-that impatience which is theirs alone.
"Even though I had not heard it-nor had Don, I am certain-I knew full well that the door behind us had slipped open and then been closed again, and that we were no longer alone. This part of it always excited me even more than the passion and heat of the young studs I loved so much to fuck and suck."
This is one of those case histories which required very little editing or revision. The way it appears here is pretty much the way it was first heard by this writer. Further, it was received on one reel, without interruptions, indicating the therapist had elicited the entire story in one sitting. This in itself is odd, since most interviewees are not capable of sustained narrative dealing with a painful subject.
This fact is revelatory, admitting, as it does, to the ease with which Miriam regarded the matter. To her, incest was little more than an excitative "extra," and, in this history, a decided novelty.
Since this history again deals primarily with the concepts of female pedophilia and (half-blood) incest, it might be well to capsulate how the mental processes of the growing girl can develop just a bit off center and produce these inclinations.
As a generalization it can be said that three psychological roots underlie pedophiliac tendencies: fear, guilt, and doubt. Interestingly enough, these three elements are usually also present in the circumstance of lesbianism. It would seem that the young female is subject to certain pressures which are not too well understood and which serve in the one instance to drive her into a flight from heterosexual confrontation and in another instance into a flight from the adult male.
When that premise is reworded it becomes still more interesting. The same set of stresses (but not the same kind or degree of stress, of course), seems able to produce either a flight from men altogether, or simply a flight from the adult man. This is not to imply that female homosexuals just missed becoming pedophiliacs or vice versa, but it is psychologically sound to suggest that these women possess many of the same personality characteristics. In his book, Female Homosexuality, Dr. Frank S. Caprio says:
Homosexuality-or as Ferenczi prefers, "homoerotism"-is a stage in the sexual development of every human being. It is not a biological anomaly and not due to an endocrinological disorder. There are no hereditary or hormonal factors involved. Endocrinology, to quote Dr. Edmund Bergler, "has nothing therapeutic to contribute to the problem of homosexuality." Lesbianism is environmentally determined. The concept of a "third" sex is a myth. It has no scientific basis.
Female homosexuality is a form of cooperative or mutual masturbation at best. It represents an unconscious defense mechanism-a symptomatic expression of a neurotic personality-a disturbance in the infantile psychosexual development-a regression to narcissism-a manifestation of an emotional maladjustment, influenced by such factors as a girl identifying herself with her father or brother, instability of the parents, unpleasant sexual experiences in childhood or adolescence, feelings of inferiority, loneliness, fear of marriage, personality deficiencies, exposure to the advances of an older lesbian, etc.
Considering what Caprio ascribes as primal causes for female homosexuality, one is compelled to identify this group of family and societal deficiencies with that same general group of deficits we usually find in the heterosexual female invert.
Women who are wont to step far beyond the bounds of social restriction usually do so because they must. It may appear to general observers, friends, and the woman herself, that she is reacting as she does because she prefers to, yet it is axiomatic in psychology that psychosexual or aberrational behavior is invariably a compensatory device; that is, a device by which stress is relieved. It is principally in this framing of thought that the parallels are drawn between female homosexuality and pedophilia.
In the instance of female homosexuality, there are so many types known that none can be said to be typical. Just within the framework of that type most resembling the pedophiliac (the butch), there are varying "general" traits and manners (and certainly, causes) that one is hard-pressed to settle upon any of them. Further, we do not imply that the butch-likes little boys, or that she is attracted to youth in general, or that she finds it difficult to compete with adults. The important similarity lies in a very general vein-she is an aggressive, sexual, self-determined, and driven, woman.
It is this quality, sex-drivenness, which term is the coining of R.E.L. Masters (Sex-Driven People), that essentially separates all inverts from all non-aberrants. The single quality of being victim to the appetites, or of having to yield to uncontrollable pressures, is alone sufficient to render a person miserable. When that quality is raised a degree to the point of compulsiveness, that person's life can become a nightmare. It is rarely acceptable to the human to be slave to his impulses.
And it is perfectly natural, or at least to be expected, that in the face of such pressures, the human mind will devise ways of relieving them.
Masters, from the foregoing reference, tells us:
When sex comes to dominate his or her life, a man or a woman is sex-driven. This ascendancy of the person's sexuality may result from an abnormal biological sex drive, from psychological craving, or from other factors. In the case of the transsexual, as noted, the life becomes sex-dominated as a consequence of the individual's feeling that his psychology and emotions are at fundamental odds with his anatomical sex. And all effeminate males and "masculine females" are likely to move in a climate of magnified sexuality for the reason that owing to their physical appearance and mannerisms other persons react to them primarily as sexual objects. The exceptionally beautiful woman also may be assigned the role of sexual object by most persons, at least of the opposite sex, so that she, too, becomes in her own mind primarily a "sexual being" and the sexuality then is magnified to the extent that in some way it comes to dominate her life.
The method of transposing this comment into relevance to our case history is not very involved and requires only that the reader invest his imaginative energies in the area of compensations. It must be understood that human response is rarely in direct answer to that which provokes it.
As in the case of Miriam, who is reacting to her sex-drivenness by a specific retreat to youth, for whatever reasons, the compensation becomes the leitmotiv of the person's activity. Such a person very often does become a victim and a slave to desires which are overwhelming.
For the purposes of writing such as this, it should be understood that there are many constellations of sexual aberration that all stem from similar causes and from similar environments. One wonders just how it can be that so many different events can germinate and then exfoliate from beginnings we regard as common.
Proceeding with our history, we are confronted with a new circumstance: that of voyeurism compounded by a specific male inversion. It might be noted that much of the foregoing applies in part to that phase of the narrative also.
"We were on the bed and embraced. Poor Don was beside himself with heat and nervousness. He was grappling with me instead of feeling me up, although I certainly wasn't resisting. His inexperience was at once pleasing and annoying. I wanted very much to put him at ease.
" "Try to relax, Don,' I told him. 'I'm not going anywhere.'
" 'What's the matter? Was I hurting you?'
" 'No, dear, not at all. I love it, but I want to make it as good as possible for you. If you relax, everything will be more enjoyable.'
"He seemed to hear me, but right away he was back at my breasts, biting them too hard, and at my ribs and shoulders and arms, which he squeezed too hard. I suppose I liked it in a way. But he just kept it up too long. I wanted some action!
" 'Goddammit, Don, take off my panties and play with my cunt.'
" 'Alright,' he answered and stripped off my briefs. Oh God, but that felt good! There was a slight breeze coming in the window and I just spread my legs out as wide as they would go and let the cool air wash across my steaming cunt.
" "Take yours off too, honey,' I told him.
"Again he agreed and soon I had that strapping prick in my hand again. I toyed with the idea of sucking it a little bit, just to juice it up and make it nice and slick, but I was getting real horny again.
" 'Feel me up, Don, sweetie. Just as if I was one of your little teenybopper girl friends. They let you play with their cunts, don't they?'
" 'Maybe you better tell me if I do something wrong.'
" 'Answer me, Don. Do you mean these high school girls aren't putting out these days?' " 'I didn't say that.'
"I considered all this. It seemed to me that he was okay, but pretty damned defensive. I was pretty interested in finding out how far I could go with him. But no sense picking a fight right now. Besides, he was starting to play with my cunt and that always drives me out of my mind. All of a sudden, it was no longer important to pin him down and make him admit how inexperienced he was. My husband had many times before explained to me that putting the kids on the defensive would make things much easier later if there was a goof-up.
"Oh, that felt good. He had a finger stuck tentatively up to about the second knuckle, and, hot as I was, it felt like a live telephone pole. I started jacking off his cock in seriousness. I wanted to get that prick in me as soon as possible, and I was just about to climb on top when I felt a familiar tap on my shoulder. I went into my act.
" 'Don, lay on your back, quick.'
" 'Lay on my back?'
" 'Yes, please, hurry. I have to suck your cock again.'
" 'Huh?' Don was querulous. 'I was just going to put it . ... '
" 'I know. On your back, sweetie, with your eyes closed, and put your hands back on the pillow. I don't want you to try to feel of me in any way.'
"He grumbled a bit and then did what I said. Then, very slowly I did the thing I had practiced so carefully so many times. I slid off the bottom of the bed a little at a time, until I could feel the corresponding addition of weight coming onto the bed right next to me. The subtracted and added weight cancelled each other, so that no change was evident to someone lying prone.
"Finally, I was standing and silently rubbing my sore cunt with my index finger. I let it slide up on my clitoris and gave it a few strokes too, but now I knew I had to hurry, so I added a last flick or two and then had to drop that activity. Too bad, I was now so hot I was shaking.
" 'Ooooooh, Jesus, that's-so-good. Even better-than in the-theater.'
"When I heard that I knew I had to hurry. First I found and turned on the special light switch that we had installed in each bedroom, and then I had to find my way to the dresser, where I knew I would find our special camera, which Harry had spent so damned much money on. It was there, right where it was supposed to be.
" 'Oh, God, that's so great-keep it up-AAaahh, yeaahhh!!! '
"I had to hurry. It sounded as if Don would be coming any minute now if I didn't get these god-dammed pictures taken. He'd come awfully fast at the theater. But it was so hard to figure anything out in this completely blacked-out room. Sometimes when I got involved like this, I got frustrated enough to just want to throw this infrared camera out in the trash. Anyway, I couldn't get mad now.
" 'Oh, ooohhhh, faster, Aunt Miriam, please, fssssst-eerrrrr.'
"Yeah, I thought; faster, Aunt Miriam. I aimed the camera at the bed and took one picture, which was absolutely silent. I hit the film-change. Again,-no sound. Well, that's what Harry had paid for, wasn't it? Another picture.
" 'Ohhhh, I'm getting close, Aunt Miriam, if you---'
"Six, seven, film change, eight, a step to the right, new film, ten-I put the camera back on the dresser and knelt by the bottom of the bed and tapped Harry twice on the shoulder.
" 'Oh, Aunt Miriam, don't-don't stop now--NOT NOW!!! '
"The transfer was swift. With my tongue now licking lightly on the head of Don's cock, I mumbled to him, 'Now I'm coming up,'-and then I practically leaped up on the bed next to him, rolled on my back, and all but screamed at him, 'Now hurry, baby, cram that joint of yours in my cunt-RIGHT NOW!! '
" 'Oh my God-I think I'm going to-' " 'Hurry-here-like this, baby, baby-get it in-in.'
"It must have been saved at the last minute. With a last-second lunge, I hauled him onto me and with a desperate hand I luckily aimed him perfectly into me, and exactly at the moment of penetration I felt the first cupful of that hot stuff cream the inside of my cunt like a ladle of white sauce from a cannon. I lunged my body up at him to get the rest of it (and also to make the best possible pictures) and was ecstatic at the power and violence of his subsequent surges of recoiling cock and his enormous doses of cum which filled me to the brim. I considered his first cum at the movie-it hadn't been anything like this; I wondered what the difference could have been.
"And then he quit me and rolled over, exhausted, with a sigh. My God, I thought, as my finger flew to my sopping wet cunt to try to finish it off. It felt so good-so almost good. I had to do something, anything. My finger was flying, but somehow it seemed inadequate.
" 'Stay here, sweetie,' I told Don, trying to find his lips to give him a quick kiss.
" 'Okay, Auntie,' he answered weakly, returning the kiss.
"I scurried to the dresser and waved my hands in the dark trying to hit a familiar object. I needn't have bothered. Dear Harry had always been a mind reader, and he didn't fail me now. I felt familiar hands on my hips. I spread my legs, which were now drenched in leaping cum down to my knees, and Harry was into me immediately. I knew I would have to be absolutely silent, since Don was only a few feet away on the bed. I could only hope that this second strong come of his would put him to sleep right away.
"Harry took one long swipe of the tongue from the inside of one knee right up to my still leaking cunt, and then from the other knee the same way; after that he pinned his attention to the well-worn slit instead of the clitoris, and he can't be blamed for that, considering that lots of the cum was still churning around inside and still nice and warm. Had he waited the semen might well have settled and even cooled a bit-and I have heard that it can become almost unpalatable under those conditions. But as it was, the stuff was still active and tasty. I spread wider and knelt a bit more so that Harry could lock his mouth on me like a suction cup and then, oh! what a glorious feeling. He started that rhythmic sucking he does so well and I felt the cum start a whirling splash down the walls of my cunt, and then finally, I could tell that the creamy liquid was cascading into my husband's mouth.
"Harry, being a considerate person, did not dawdle with that particular function too much, though; he immediately went up to my clitoris and started tonguing it in that very special way he has perfected. He started with a few light stabs with a rigid tongue tip right on the clitoris, but he knows that doesn't do much except warm me-and I was already plenty warmed up-so he went quickly on to the thing that gets me pretty good: a circular chewing motion with very careful teeth all around the exposed and sucked-out clitoris. Now understand, my clitoris is not like a little girl's. I have pulled and flicked on it for some years now, and so have a great many men, and even a few women. Added to that, Harry has been sucking with extreme vigor on the whole body of the thing for some years also, and I guess the clitoris responds like any other muscle, or gland, or whatever it is. Anyway, the result is that I have a nice little body of flesh down there that becomes a sort of miniature prick and gathers a noticeable hardness when it's worked on. Right now it felt like it was hard as a rock, and Harry had it in his mouth, sucking up and down on it, pulling on it, pushing, licking, and everything else he could think of on it, and he was-bless him-performing miracles. I could feel the first small convulsions coming on, and the tremors, just the way they were forming in the rest of my body, were telling me that I was headed for a cataclysmic come.
"Up and up I went, and the tremors became little mountains of jello, and then real quakes, and then it was washing over me and I just couldn't help it-
" '-Ohhhhh, yess-' and then I remembered
Don....
" 'Aunt Miriam! Is something wrong?' " 'OOOOooooh-uh-oh, no, Don. It's-just my stomach. I'll be alright.' " 'Can I help?'
"The damn come was half-ruined anyway. I sprang back into bed and snuggled up to Don. I couldn't be mad at him or anything else. That's how he affected me. And besides, we had some other plans to implement-Harry would be furious if I let it be spoiled by impatience.
"We lay in each other's arms awhile and then I began toying with that nice prick again. It was about time to get things started. I guessed it had been about thirty minutes-just about right.
" 'Your prick sure does react nicely.'
" 'I'm glad you like it, Aunt Miriam. You sure do make it feel good when you do that.'
" 'Do you think it'll get just as hard as the last time?'
" 'Sure! Why wouldn't it?'
" 'Oh, you dear boy-just wait until you're older. Then you'll know what I mean!'
"Then I casually informed Don why I was so interested in his cock getting another real good hard on. It just won't do what I want it to do if it isn't real hard.'
" 'What? What is it supposed to do next?'
" 'Something I just love. And you'll love it too, if you let me do what I want.'
" 'I'd do anything for you, Aunt Miriam. You know that.'
" 'Wonderful,' I answered, and rolled over and gave him a big kiss. Then whispering low, I told him, 'I want you to fuck me in the ass.'
" 'What!!!? '
" 'Oh, don't act so astonished. Grown-ups do that all the time.' " "They do?'
" 'Certainly. Listen, this is your Aunt Miriam talking to you, not some moralist. I'm telling you how it really is, not how some people want it.'
"I guess I must have argued for ten minutes before Don began to relent. As soon as I thought he was ready, I jumped out of bed and ran to the light switch, turning it on, knowing that Harry would not be in the room until after this signal. I opened a bureau drawer and pulled out the planted dildo; quite a smallish, pink-colored, artificial prick with a hip-harness attached to it. Ijtook it to Don and showed it to him, explaining all the while how it worked and what I wanted to do.
" ' ... and I don't know what it is about me, Don, but I just love pumping that thing into an ass-hole.
It just turns me on more than I can tell you...' He started to object again, but I went right on, ' ... and besides, darling, you came too fast the last time and I didn't really get to come the way I need to-it's sort of like you should reciprocate. Come on, you stick yours in my ass first and just watch how much it does for me.'
"A few minutes later, I felt this marvelous ballbat jamming up into that sensitive ass-hole of mine. As soon as he was in to the hilt and had started stroking, I began my muscular contractions, first trying to simulate forcing a turd out, and then simulating holding one back. A few strokes more and we were working in perfect sync, and the poor kid's prick just couldn't handle the action. I felt a flood of cum splatter around in my colon, and realized he was pretty close to exhaustion. The come had been good, but much weaker than the last.
"Ten minutes later, I said to him, 'I want to turn the lights out again when I do it to you. That way I can imagine I'm doing it to a woman.'
"There was another delay while I reconvinced him, and then, for effect if nothing else, I strapped the harness on me so that he could see how it looked, with its little pink cock standing right up straight. I even greased it with cold cream to help put his mind at ease. Then I said, 'Here's what I want you to do, lover: lay on your stomach with your legs spread apart as far as possible. You'll feel me climb on the bed and then I'll go into you as gently as possible, but you won't feel my body very much, since I feel better holding myself up in the air. Also, like I said, I like to go on an imagination trip when I'm doing this, so don't talk to me, because I won't answer. Also, don't move just because you feel a little pressure.'
"And then he seemed to be about as prepared as he was going to get. I gave him a quick kiss and rolled him over and then spread his legs for him. Just for kicks, I planted a couple of nice wet kisses on his ass-hole, and then ran the spit in a little bit with a finger. That would help.
"I got up, checked things one last time, and then went to the light switch and turned it off. Quickly I opened the hall door and felt Harry sweep past me in a hurry. His massive prick touched my leg as he passed, and I could feel it trembling with readiness. Sometimes I wondered about Harry-how he was able to hold his balance; things like that.
"Anyway, I heard the bed depress. I had the newly loaded infrared camera aimed right at the center of the bed-at least I think I did-and I began snapping pictures, moving from side to side in the pitch dark as best I could. It was a minute or two before anything happened, and then-'Oh, Auntie, go easy. It feels big.'
"Another few seconds, and then-'Oh, please, Auntie, just a little tonight, please. It feels ten times as big as it looked.'
"Taking pictures quickly over the side of the bed, I leaned over the center of the top part of the bed, just about in the position my head should have been, and I whispered to Don, 'Dammit, Don, I asked you to be quiet. Now, relax as much as possible, and I'm going to get it all in. Don't worry about the size. It always feels bigger than it really is. And for GOD'S SAKE, DON'T TALK TOME ANYMORE.'
"I got up from the bed very carefully, and began snapping pictures again. Then sounds began again.
" 'OH ... OH ... OH NO, STOP! Ohh, that's better. Just let that much of it sit awhile. My God, that little thing feels like a watermelon in there-please don't put it in any more, Auntie; just the head in like that hurts like hellllll- OHHHHH, FOR CHRIST'S SAKE, DON'T, DON'T, OH MY GOD, OOOEEEHHH!'
"I could tell by the rhythm and pattern that Harry probably had the head part way in. This had happened before, and I knew that Harry was awfully hot and probably couldn't wait much longer before he-
" WHATTT OOOOOOUUUUEEII STOP! STOP!! YOU'RE KILLING ME-I CAN'T-I CAN'T-I can't-I can't-I-ooooo.'
"And then I heard a mild stroking begin. The bed was gently and peacefully rocking back and forth. It sounded as if Don was breathing easier now, although I'm not sure that he was fully conscious. I know that sometimes when Harry is too hot he can't help but give it to them all at once after he's worked the head of it in.
"The stroking picked up tempo, and I definitely heard Don begin to whimper, something very close to a sob. I continued taking pictures. And then the stroking became really pronounced.
"'Oh, Auntie, please stop, can't you, PLEASE?!!! ' and I knew how the poor kid felt. I only hoped that Harry wouldn't give him one of those real lunges. But, just as I was thinking the thought-
" 'Please, Auntie, Auntie? Won't you say som-OOOUUUEEEH!!! ' OOOOOHHHHHHH!!!!f! NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, YOU CAN'T!!!!! '
"And then, predictably, Don's protestations stopped altogether, and the stroking from the bed became regular and had a deep squishy sound. A few minutes of this and I sensed that Harry gave a final lunge and got rid of the scummy, filthy, huge load that had been rusting away in his nuts for weeks and weeks-ever since the last boy. These days that's the only way Harry ever-oh", hell, let's forget about that part of it.
"Over breakfast the next morning, Harry was the picture of happiness and contentment. His appetite was robust for a change, and he chatted amiably. It was so good to have a happy husband. I suppose it's worth any price.
" 'Call him again,' Harry suggested.
" 'I don't think it's any use. I've tried a dozen times.'
" 'Poor kid,' Harry answered. 'Sure hope he isn't coming down with something.'
"If memory serves me correctly, I think we finished breakfast hurriedly and then left for the camera shop."
If the reader will recall, we referred to a case of "male inversion" as well as "voyeurism" to be treated of in this final portion of the history of Miriam and Don. The inversion is explicitly spelled out here, but it should be noted that the voyeurism is only implicit. That is, the developed infrared photographs (which, as any camera buff knows, are quite unsatisfactory for purposes such as these-and extremely expensive in the bargain) served to satisfy Harry's urgings to see both his wife and himself in sexual contact with the boy.
All things considered, this case offers limited possibility of therapeutic adjustment for Harry, but this is not relevant since he is not a true principal. On the other hand, Miriam separated from Harry roughly a year after this narrative concludes, and began treatment with a noted clinician shortly thereafter. Today she continues her treatment and all signs are suggestive of improvement. She has not been completely able to ignore young men, but she is aware of the larger meaning of such conduct and is beginning to make sincere efforts to develop relationships with adult men.
But not adult men with bizarre purposes.