Chapter 5
A Tale of Two Fathers
"I hope you realize-if I'm not being too impertinent-that I am here, and telling you all of this under protest, and only as a favor to an old and dear friend, one whom I trust implicitly. She seems to think that all you have to do is wave Freud, Adler, and Jung at me and all will be well. I, for one, can't accept that, and if I did, I sure as hell wouldn't be here. You see, there is nothing that I want changed. I'm perfectly happy as I am, and if I am living in the blackest of mortal sins, why-let them make the most of it, and to hell with them.
"I'm more than just content, I'm fairly ecstatic, and if there is any better way to live, I don't want to even know about it. As I said, I am very happy. I wouldn't change my life for anyone or anything else. And believe me, you'll be the last one to convince me any differently. Heaven can wait, because I've got heaven right here. If after I die and go to hell (if there really is such a place) I, for one, will go there willingly, for, to paraphrase another old saying, 'I have spent my time in heaven, so who cares if I go to hell.'
"I'm sorry that I sound hostile. If it weren't for Campy's tears and pleadings, I could certainly think of a million other places I would prefer to be, other than here, babbling into this stupid microphone. But, since I am here, I might as well get it over with.
"I refuse to start with my formative years, because I can remember no instances of being attacked by a 'Raggedy Andy' doll running rapaciously rampant, or being fingered suggestively by a leering old man who desired more than the dime I held in my hot little hand in order to purchase a lime popsicle.
"My mother died when I was ten, and the house was run more or less haphazardly by a succession of housekeepers until I grew up and took over. I think I have succeeded in running a cleaner, warmer, better adjusted home than you can find anywhere. I have kept my father happy and also kept him from succumbing to the faded lures of any bush-league adventuress that might want to marry him for want of home and 24-karat hearth. Oh no!
"Now, by no means has he been unhappy. Believe me when I say that my dear father had been cheered considerably in the companionship department, and therefore couldn't possibly have any complaints about anything. Especially about being neglected.
"Let me explain how the whole delightful thing got started. It started, not once upon a time, but once upon an old friendship, and upon a few rounds of hot-buttered rum served before a cheerful fire on a cold, snowy, winter's night.
"Nat-I'll call him that, Nat, just for propriety's sake-was paying us one of his extended visits. Of course, as usual, he brought along his only daughter, whom I shall call Jean for these purposes. They're just about the nicest people in the world. I am not exaggerating when I use the tired cliche, "beautiful people,' for they truly are. Nat and my father have a lot in common, just as Jean and I have. Nat lost his wife only a year after my mother passed on, and like Father, he never remarried. He and Father went to college together, competed in the same sports and activities.
"Nat is a handsome man, strong, and attractively gray. His daughter Jean is my opposite in coloring, but almost the same in stature. She is an ash blonde and has the palest blue eyes imaginable. Real cornflower eyes, with long, silken lashes, Jean is almost a year younger than I am, and she is about an inch shorter. Her weight is the same as mine, give or take a few ounces. The reason I am bothering to tell you all these physical descriptions is that they are very important to the story I am telling you.
"My own father is like me in looks, although much taller and wider, and extremely masculine, whereas, as you can see, I am totally feminine. His hair is just now becoming the 'salt-and-pepper' that women find so attractive. He swims, plays golf, rides horseback as well as indulges in gym workouts in order to keep in top-notch shape. Nat is similar also, and for the same reasons.
"When Nat comes to visit us, we all drink a bit. We sing and dance and tell all the latest dirty jokes (within good taste), and generally enjoy our company to the fullest. This particular visit started out no different than a dozen others, but its culmination was quite the opposite. One particular night, Father and Nat drank a little more than usual. I suppose Jean and I were guilty of that, too.
"The men were playing the 'nostalgia game' and it got too deep a grip on them. They were sorrowing, and telling each other how lonely it was living in a household without a woman. Not that their homes were not run well, they said, casting sidelong glances at us, but, daughters did not take the place of wives.
"Jean protested, and, of course, so did I. After all, we both really exerted ourselves to meet every need. The men apologized, and another round of rum was served. The rum was having an effect on all of us, but Jean and I felt something else was moving within us. Later on Jean confessed to me that what was bothering her was exactly what was bothering me. We both dreaded the thought of a strange woman coming into our fathers' lives and usurping our rightful positions in the household.
"We tried to joke our fathers out of their pensive mood, and put wild music on the stereo player, but nothing seemed to work very well. I went over and sat on Father's lap. I was-let me see-eighteen years old then, and not much has changed for me physically since then. So, I guess, I was quite a weight on poor Daddy, but he certainly didn't seem to mind very much. I kept his glass filled and told him a story a shade bluer than I had ever told in his presence before. He shot me a quick glance and then looked into his glass and said something inane to Nat, who was laughing like hell.
"Nat said, 'Our little girls aren't little girls anymore, chum. They are full-grown young women, inside and out. We're just lucky some young punk with a Rolls hasn't stolen both of them away from us. Did it ever occur to you, ol' buddy, what a waste it's going to be, letting some ungrateful kid grab all that? I mean,' his voice was thick and slurring, 'I mean, take a good look at that ravishing beauty you have perched on your lap. She's well stacked, ol' buddy, and she's got the kind of look in her eye that pulls me in behind her when she walks. And, speaking of a walk, Helen has movements going for her that you seldom see anywhere anymore.'
"Father kind of sat up, and I felt him move under me. He had one eye half closed, squinting almost drunkenly over at Jean, who was perched on the arm of her father's chair. 'Speak for yourself, Nat. I mean, look at your Jean. Her legs alone are enough to make me wish I were twenty, no-ten, no, dammit-five years younger. And she's not missing anything upstairs, either.'
"There was a sudden quiet, a funny kind of odd embarrassment, as if all of us suspected that things had gone a bit too far. I broke the silence. 'Another drink for anyone? And let's continue the compliments; I love them.'
" 'Yeah,' Jean chirped in, and I could have kissed her, 'tell me some more about how sexy I am, Larry.' At this remark, Nat only lifted an eyebrow, and when I brought him a refill, I gave Jean a long and searching look that she understood. Then I tugged Nat up out of his comfortable chair and made him dance with me. Across the room, Jean was dancing with my father, and we were using their kind of music, the slow, sensuous melodies that make you want to dance, oh, so close together, holding each other very tightly. Rock stuff may be great for turning on grass with,' but give me music that puts a man's body up tight against mine.
"I was stimulated by Nat, and snuggled up close to him. When we danced by a table lamp, I reached out and flicked it off. I put my head into the hollow of his shoulder and let my breath flutter warmly against his neck. I had made up my mind to seduce him, and the rum was burning wickedly inside me, urging me on. I moved my leg between his legs as we danced and allowed my fingers to play with the hair on the back of his neck as I shoved my breasts up tight against him. From his breathing, I could tell that he knew what was going on-and was liking it.
"We danced by where Father and Jean were rocking back and forth. They really weren't dancing, they were just moving in place. I smiled at her, nodding approval, and received the same acknowledgement in return.
"I had steered Nat to the foot of the stairs by the time the record had changed. He hesitated, glancing back at his daughter and his oldest friend, locked in each other's arms and forgetting to dance. I put my lips up to his ear. 'Why not, Nat? As you've said, we're all grown-up now, inside and out. I'd very much like you to take me to bed-right now, please, in the guest room.'
"His breath caught in his throat. The alcohol racing through his blood helped us along, blocking any inhibitions he may have had about his one and only daughter being about to be laid by my father. It also pushed him up the stairs with me.
"Of course, it wasn't only the alcohol. I was on fire, myself, and my excitement was certainly shared by Nat. I was trembling so hard by the time I reached the guest room that I had trouble opening the door. Before entering, I took one last look down the stairs. As I glanced, I saw the very last lamp go out in the living room below. I shook all over, trying to imagine what my handsome father was doing to the immaculate and divinely blonde Jean. I saw in my mind's eye, my father sitting down on the couch with her, saw him holding her close and kissing her, saw his hand coming up to caress her breast, saw her skirt sliding up above her knee until the frilly, lacy bottoms of her panties showed against the golden flesh. 'Nat,' I said, whirling to him, 'oh, Nat.'
"He was very gentle. He placed me upon the bed and neither of us felt awkward about getting undressed; once we were naked, however, I wanted the light out. There was just a slight touch of lasciviousness about it, a sneaky lust that made it all the more tantalizing. He came to me in the dark, just as my father was coming to the golden girl in the dark below. I felt the smooth warmth of his body against my leg, so I lifted it so he could be even closer to me. His lips found mine, and I parted them for him, opened them to the gusty breathing and the probing tongue that slipped into my mouth and threatened to fill it with all its swollen maleness. He started to sweat, and the musky smell pouring from his body, blending with the expensive cologne, made the blood race through my veins even faster. My groin was on fire, and only one thing could put that fire out.
"His hands were now at my tender aching breasts. They were gentle as they caressed my throbbing nipples, but no less tender than his seeking mouth as he took my rounded flesh into that cavity. His teeth, ever so lightly, scraped my nipples as he teasingly nibbled at them. Nat was a master at the art of making love. He took time, paced himself beautifully, and performed on me like Paganini performed on a violin. A genius at instrumentality. He petted and caressed me, his mouth paying homage to my breasts, my shoulders, my neck, and the underpaid of my arms. His hands moved deftly, with the sureness of long and successful experience. He made me feel positively adored. By now I was giving way at practically every pore.
"I put down my own hand and found his penis. The size, the obvious power of it, surprised me. I was anything but a virgin, but my experience had been confined to just two boys at school, and they couldn't compete with what Nat had, even if you'd've put them both together. I began stroking him and fondling him, and when the sweeping urge was about to tear me apart, I guided him into me and slipped my cupped hand around his testicles. It was a slow and sweet wonder. His beautiful penis plunged into me, in what seemed to be slow motion, and I felt the lips and walls of my vagina respond with the same slow sensuous movement. I felt like we were making love underwater, with those slow, graceful movements of an underwater ballet. The head of his penis penetrated my innermost being, where no penis, especially the high-school variety, had ever penetrated before. I writhed, I groveled, I squirmed in the enjoyment of his maleness.
"Suddenly, like a sledgehammer-no, an air-hammer-he surged into me. I felt the swelling movement of head and shaft. I could imagine the millions and millions of microscopic spermatozoa, united like a massive army, invading me with just one cause, one battle to win-the conquering of my passion-filled valley of love.
"He was forcing himself deeper and deeper into my welcoming vagina. I felt the tip of his penis battering away at the entrance of my womb. I was dizzy with delight and rapture. His penis was working like a trip-hammer. I felt my whole body reach out to him. I no longer had arms, legs, torso, neck, head-I was one vast vagina, pleading to be filled.
"I bit his lips, I ground my teeth against his and ran my tongue deep into his mouth. I crushed my breasts against his heavy, hairy chest and wiggled, shook, quivered, lifted. 'Go,' I hissed at him, 'go! Dig me, drive me, bash me, smash me! Take me apart, split me wide open, bury it deep, deep, deeper! Deeper, oh! deeper ... puh-leeze!' And he did. 'Come, darling, come, come, come, now, now, now! ! ! ' And he did. The hot sperm burst forth from his burning penis. He came three times at once, like a machine gun. It hammered into me. I cried, I clawed, I screamed with ecstasy. He pushed even harder, like he had another load ready to surge into me. I almost passed out with the delight of my great and rending orgasm. Suddenly the whole world hushed. Nat and I were alone, spinning in space, and then, like a falling leaf, we slowly began our descent back to earth and reality. "That was lovely,' I said.
" 'Darling,' Nat whispered huskily into my ear. 'Darling Helen. I have wanted you for years, and now I have you. I want to love every inch of you, my darling, darling Helen. I want to make you scream with joy and cry with joy and laugh with joy. I want to love your legs, your belly, your dimpled butt. I want to love every part of you. I want to do everything that can be done to you.'
" 'Do it,' I said, 'and show me what you would wish me to do to you in return. I want to make you happy and completely satisfied. I want to make you just as happy as my father is hopefully making your Jean feel right now.' He stiffened for a minute. 'Don't be silly,' I said. 'Wouldn't you prefer your good friend to make love to her, than some goofy kid who didn't know what it is all about? After all,' I added reassuringly, 'your daughter Jean is a beautiful, sexy, delightful woman. My father is a decent, handsome, trustworthy man. Just think how wonderfully lucky she is.'
" 'You're right,' he said. 'And I hope that he is getting the same glorious thrills from my daughter that I'm getting from his.'
" T am sure that he is,' I replied. 'Isn't this the most perfect of arrangements, Nat? Isn't this just wonderful for all of us? We can share, we can make love, and it is all the more lovely because we are doing it for each other, because we are good, loyal, and old, old friends. Jean is meeting my father's needs, just as you are meeting mine. Isn't it just heavenly?'
" 'Yes,' he said, and we talked while our bodies remained blended. We discoursed on sex and its various manifestations. Nat confessed to me that he had always had an 'unfatherly' attachment towards his daughter. I told him that he wasn't a rarity, that I, too, had been drawn sexually to my own father, and that for a long time I was ashamed of myself for thinking such things, but, with my maturity, I found out that such urgings are sometimes quite normal, though society in general frowns on such practices.
"We kissed each other again, and both of us felt the rumbling of another urging, but it was too soon, so we amused ourselves in other ways. After a while we copulated again, and it was as magical as the first time, and, in some ways, even sweeter, because we knew each other so much better the second time around. Then, for a long while, we slept peacefully, gently locked in each other's arms.
"The morning was a bit awkward. Father and Jean had gone into his room for the night, and she had come downstairs first. We stared at each other a trifle antagonistically, a shade jealously. Then I said, 'Hi-let's get a good breakfast for the old bears. I think they need it-at least, to regain their strength.'
"Jean laughed. 'Yes, I guess they probably will. Come on, dear, we'll fix it together.'
"Over breakfast, we began to exchange confidences, as we'd always done in the past, and I felt even closer to Jean than I ever had before. She was something more than a friend, a sister, a wife, a mother, or even a lover. I told her so. The men were late in coming down, so we sipped our coffee and whispered of our great fortune, of our wonderful lovers.
" 'Larry is tremendous,' she said. 'He's so much more of a man than-well, than the boys I've slept with before. I mean, he gets down into me and loves me so hard and so long-I wish it could last forever.'
"I nodded. "That's how I feel about Nat, your father. He's so big, you know, but yet-he's so very gentle, and experienced. Tell me, Jean-'
" 'Yes, Helen-anything.'
" 'Is my father-is he big, or--? '
" 'Long,' she said. 'Not so big, it seems, but very firm. And he can reach in so deeply into-'
" 'Hey!' I said. 'Your father told me he's always been secretly drawn to you. And I have always secretly wanted to-'
" 'Let's,' she murmured, a step ahead of me. "Tonight, after we-after I get through balling Larry, I'll slip out of bed and go into the bath.'
" 'I'll meet you in the bathroom,' I said.
" 'Do you keep the light out?'
" 'Yes,' I answered. 'It'll be perfect this way. If they feel strange about fucking their own daughters, they can pretend they didn't know.' I never was more excited in my whole life.
"Our fathers came downstairs, freshly shaved and showered, looking great, and also trying very hard to pretend that nothing so unusual had happened the night before. After a few minutes, the tension left them and they relaxed. In fact, they seemed like men twenty years younger-in love and on their honeymoon. In fact, Jean and I felt jut like a couple of brand-new brides.
"Later that morning we went swimming in the lake. As we changed, we eyed one another's bodies covertly. My father stared long at Jean's smooth golden legs, at the dimple of her stomach, and the high, full roundness of her breasts. But he also looked me over from time to time, and the expression on his face was that of a man who was seeing me nude for the first time. I saw a large bulge in Daddy's trunks, and knew that one of us had given him a big erection.
"We ate lunch in the pavilion, then drove into town for an afternoon at the cinema. We tried to hurry through the day and make it pass faster. After a delicious dinner of charcoal-broiled steaks and vintage champagne, we yawned and dispersed-to sleep, we all said. But we were all eager for a repeat of the sensuous delights that we had all experienced the preceding night. For me, there was a magical dessert waiting between the sheets, upstairs.
"Once in bed, I practically hurtled myself at Nat. I used my aching body to envelop him. My clitoris, my labia, my vulva. All my inner parts ached for the feel of Nat's penis, throbbing once again inside me. He was lying on his back, so I climbed on top of him and lowered myself down over the length of head and shaft of that marvelous piece of flesh.
"I rode up and down, up and down until the waves of my onrushing orgasm almost knocked me senseless. He shot his load into me, and, oh, how absolutely wonderful it felt. I jiggled up and down until the last bit of joy juice had shot forth into me. Nat's penis continued to stay hard for quite some time afterwards, and I thoroughly enjoyed every single moment of my sexual impalement. I could have ridden that staff all day and night.
"But I wasn't finished for the night. The best was yet to come. I lay there, next to Nat for what seemed like hours. I heard a noise in the bathroom, got up, without disturbing Nat, and went in. Jean was in there, waiting for me. She was as nude as I was. 'Good luck,' she said, and like two ships passing in the night we went to our respective fathers' beds.
"I eased into my own father's room, moving slowly in the blackness that surrounded me. Lowering myself gently into bed, I rolled close to him and felt the electric shock of my own father's unfamiliar body. His flesh seemed so strange and new. He stirred, and I became rigid. He reached out, touched my breast, and murmured, 'Darling!'
"Ah! I said to my innermost self. Ah! I said to the whirlpool of passion gathering within me. I silently shouted, as the whirlpool gathered and hurled me into the abyss of sheer erotic fantasy. I slid underneath him and helped him guide his penis into me. His penis, my point of origin. I felt magnificent. My eager vagina sucked him into me with greedy gulps. My womb ached for the pounding that I knew would soon come. I rioted under him as the paternal sperm forced its way into my aching crevice.
like waves crashing against the shore, its hot sticky countenance coated the walls of my vagina and hurled itself against the aching tip of my womb. I almost fainted with pure joy.
"I stayed with him for hours, doing things to him, using every part of my body, my legs, haunches, womb, and mouth. I reveled in becoming his mistress and lover and whore and wife and, most of all, his daughter.
"But, during all this, I never said a word out loud. I answered his endearments with my lips or my fingers or a nod of my head. I uttered no sweet names, or even a sigh, for fear of giving away my identity too flagrantly and embarrassing him. He wanted to suck my breasts, so I turned my head away and drew him to me. He nursed at me like a newborn child, and I was happy.
"It was getting close to daylight, so I felt I must leave him, much as I hated to. Jean and I passed silently in the bathroom, smiling that smile that only mutual success can convey. Success is so beautiful. If Jean was as happy as I was, then the two happiest girls in the world are the two greatest friends.
"Breakfast that morning between us was a picnic of shared secrets. Jean was just as delighted with her father's sexual prowess as I was with mine. I asked her if Nat suspected. She said she thought so, but that he would never let on. I told her that my father would play it just as cool. I also told her that she was right about him not being so big, but we also agreed that for what he lacked in quantity, he more than made up for in quality.
"It was an idyllic summer we spent. Originally, Jean and Nat had only planned to stay for a couple of days, but with the beautiful turn of events we four stayed together for the whole season. Before we knew it, we were getting ready to go back to school. We looked forward to the weekends, with renewed anticipation of what a new kind of life was awaiting us in the wings."
It is rare to run into two distinct personality types, such as Helen and Jean, with the same problem, i.e., a sexual desire of an incestuous nature. Both being daughters of wifeless men, they felt, during their formative years that they had to "replace" their absent mothers. In pursuing this bent, they became jealous and possessive. Their fathers were virile men, attractive and successful. In the girls' sexual experience, they found the fumbling of their schoolboy conquests disappointing. "They didn't match up to what we thought our fathers would be."
The constant threat of stepmothers caused each of them to strive to be a "wife-lover" to her lonely parent. Both girls had this "wish fulfillment" on their minds the night that we have just read about. What started out to be a night of "daughter-swapping," which is not any more moral-shocking to today's sexual libertarian, turned into incest by the form of pure circumstance. Two lonely, slightly drunk men, and two voluptuous and very willing daughters were thrown together in a festive and pleasant atmosphere of a secluded country estate. Whether or not the two fathers were aware of the midnight switch of their sex partners is a moot question. If they were, they didn't let on for quite awhile.
The uniqueness of this particular case is that it combines the elements of "wife-swapping" and father-daughter incest. In this, the writer has been unable to come up with a similar precedent in any previous case history ever studied. The analyst or social worker who will without a doubt be involved with one or the other of the girls, or perhaps both, in the future, should be able to produce a paper that will interest any reader of the Journal of American Psychiatry.
Our subject, Helen, now draws her narrative to a close.
"I was delirious with happiness. I now had two lovers: Nat and my own father. What girl could ask for more? Jean is happy, too. We enjoy sitting up nights and talking about our sex lives. She enjoys Larry so much. I tingle inside as she goes to great lengths in describing how he goes down on her and dips his strong, passionate tongue into her steaming vagina. Jean squirmed with delight when I told her how I introduced Nat to anal sex. She said that if her father ever suggested it to her, she would love it. In fact, she plans to ask my father if he would like to try it.
"I think our fathers know that we are switching beds during the night. They pretend they don't know what is going on, but that, of course, makes the whole thing a lot more fun. I think one night Jean and I will suggest that the four of us should pile into one bed and have a ball. I think having Nat's penis up my rectum, while Daddy is pumping my vagina full of sperm would be very satisfying.
"I don't think what we are doing is wrong at all. We all love each other very, very much. I am not the least bit jealous of Jean balling with my father, and she is delighted that I am Nat's sex-partner. Sex isn't our whole life. Jean and I are still in school and our fathers have their respective careers. Our whole life-style is exciting, adventurous, and full. What more could anyone ask? I know most of society condemns what is called incest, but I feel no guilt about our 'togetherness.' "