Anonumous: The prodigal virgin

Beside his bed stood Edith, naked and flushed.

“I-I couldn’t sleep,” she said. “And Henry said since he wanted to sleep, and I was so restless, I must come in here with you. Is-is it all right?”

It was all right with Herbert.

Herbert awoke in a bewildered state, fleeting memories of the previous evening quickly organizing themselves into a chain of evidence as to the reality of what had at first seemed like a wild and incredible dream. The extreme lassitude which he felt in his body was but one testimonial to the amazing and shameful fact that less than eight hours before he had had an incestuous relation with his sister. It was a deed made even more shameful to contemplate in the cold light of bodily exhaustion by the fact that his brother-in-law, Henry Hamilton, had urged him to the crime, had indeed stood by in lecherous enjoyment of seeing himself thus cuckolded by his wife’s brother. For an instant Herbert felt a wave of shameful fury, and a consuming desire to kill Henry, to choke him to death, perhaps torture him by butchering his sexual organs. Then he remembered that night on the train, years earlier, when he was nineteen, Edith sixteen, when he had goaded and coaxed her until aroused to the boiling point. She had kissed and sucked his swollen member and he had persuaded her to let him insert the head of his throbbing organ into that tight and lovely crevice that he knew had never been seen by a man other than himself. He remembered too that he had asked Edith to promise that after her marriage she would let him possess her body, and he knew that in all the years since he had thought recurrently of her promise and had even half-anticipated it as he sailed home from Africa to see his sister for the first time since her marriage.

Being aware of Edith’s highly sensitive nature, that she was, like himself, inclined to revert to the moralistic training of their parents except during the madder sessions of that wild young married set who constituted her social companions, Herbert had hesitated to remind Edith of her promise. In fact, he had done nothing toward gaining his goal except for veiled inspections of his sister’s charms during those times when they had gone to the beach together. So covertly had he carried on these lustful surveyals, in fact, that Edith had not become aware of them, and although she too was mindful of the pact they had made on the train, and although she still longed to consummate this incestuous love affair to its ultimate, to revel in bacchic orgies with her brother, to feel the long-remembered stiffness of his weapon piercing her very vitals, she had been similarly shy and hesitant. Although burning with mutual desire, both brother and sister had thought that the other had determined to forget that mad, sinful night of long ago.

But now, Herbert thought with rueful realization, the thing had happened. Last night’s queer chain of events, his being driven from the house by the anguish of hearing his sister writhe in the ecstasy of sexual intercourse. He remembered seeking peace on the cool beach, to discover there the girl whom he had come to regard as a chaste, virginal lily, to discover her in the act of allowing her body to be stripped naked by her lecherous brother-in-law, while his wife, her own sister, aided and abetted the plan to expose the girl’s tender charms to their mutual embrace.

“My God!” Herbert said aloud. “What are we coming to? My brother-in-law tricks me into ravishing my own sister, Stan Cochrane’s wife goads her sister in letting herself be seduced by her husband.”

Then he grinned, shamed at this sudden wave of moral indignation.

“I’m certainly taking the attitude of an old fogy,” he thought. “A typical hypocrite, that’s what. While I willingly commit incest with my willing sister, while my brother-in-law enjoys the scene, I nevertheless have to stifle a feeling that I have been outraged because Stan Cochrane has gained a prize that I wanted for myself. Why am I any more pure than Marion? What right have I to condemn her for doing in innocence what I did in full knowledge of the crime? I know Stan Cochrane well enough to be certain that he had been practicing on that girl for several weeks. Mildred, too, has been at work, I’ll venture, for she is the type who would enjoy seeing her precious husband take another woman, and, if it be her sister, so much the better.”

Thus Herbert reasoned as he lay there in bed, because he felt now the imperativeness of his getting married, or, in any event, the need for a woman, a bed-mate. His orgy of the night before was a regrettable affair and obviously could not be continued without fear of drastic results. It might prey on the mind of his sister, or upon his own. Worse yet, Henry might become stricken with remorse over his frenzied impulse of the night before, and do something desperate. To marry Marion, that is if she would accept him, he thought modestly, was the first thing for him to do; to go away, to remove himself from the temptation to repeat such a scene with his sister, was the next.

Herbert’s desire to marry Marion had been growing for sometime, and although he had been temporarily repelled by the scene upon the beach, the events following it, involving his own behavior, made it scarcely honest of him to be self-righteous. Again, the maddening sight of Marion’s lovely figure stripped to the lustful gaze of her sister and her brother-in-law, as well as to his own, had driven him to such excitement that he had almost had an orgasm as he lay there in the sand. Thinking of her now, his limp tool stiffened slightly, jerking spasmodically like a sleeping animal, and he smiled proudly at this evidence of his virility, arousal in an instrument that had done yeoman service the night before. He determined, then, to seek out Marion that very day, and if necessary to carry her off by force.

As matters developed, however, there was no need for desperate action. Marion had gone through an amazing and, to her all too recent state of virginal innocence, harrowing experience during the previous night, and she had come to a decision that was not unlike Herbert’s. Recalling the night spent in bed between Mildred and Stan, and the acts to which she had acceded all too willingly, she felt her face burn as with fire. The libidinous couple, and Marion admitted shamefully that she was no less lascivious than her sister, had performed upon her body the most shameful of perverted pleasures, had explored each crevice of her with burning fingers and mouths had done everything, in fact, except actually destroy her maidenhead. And this, she recalled, she had begged Stan to do.

During the course of the orgy, Mildred had suddenly felt the desire to excite her little sister to the maddening ultimate by having her be a witness to Stan’s taking her with his battering ram. Stan had thought the idea a charming one, and though he would have vastly preferred to explore that much tighter crevice which he had learned was small even for the tip of his distended tongue, something in his make-up made it against his code to actually deflower the girl. He knew, too, that Mildred would not have permitted him to actually screw her sister, at any rate not until after she married.

Nevertheless, Mildred had conceived the idea of letting Marion see the sex act performed at close range, and, spreading her legs in such a position as to allow Marion a full view, she had beckoned the willing Stan to mount and ride. Stan had advanced to the saddle, and Marion, bent eagerly forward for close inspection of the ceremony, had watched Mildred grasp the huge protuberance in her hand and guide it to its intended destination. She had marvelled at the ease with which the monster, once its flaming head had been swallowed by the hair-encircled slit, buried itself within Mildred’s feverishly writhing body. As Stan exerted the full pressure of his buttocks in driving the organ home, Mildred had given a little cry of joy, abandoning herself to the advances of her husband, and in a frenzy of desire had locked her white legs around his sturdy buttocks, as if to possess the instrument to its last fraction of an inch. Then they had begun a mad, mutual writhing, their bodies rising and falling in fevered synchronization, arms entwined around each others’ chests, their lips half-parted as they exchanged lustful kisses in imitation of that other union of their lower parts.