Jack Benjamin - The Paths Of Incest

Art W. was a much different type from the girl in the last case history. He was raised on a farm, and, as he says, "knew all about sex by the time I was 10." And Art wasn't just boasting. He had indulged in homosexuality, child molestation, semi-incestuous relations with an older first cousin, and had even attempted intercourse with a dog and a cow-all this at the tender age of 10!

There were eleven in my dad's family, and he was the second youngest, so when my grandpa died, my dad just stayed on and took over the farm in Missouri. The youngest one in his family was my aunt Jean. She was ten years older than me, and she continued to live on the farm, with my grandmother. Grandma died two years after grandpa, so Jean was like a big sister to me. My mother and father had to work like hell to make a living off the place, and so did Jean and me, as well as my younger brother and sister. I always liked farming, though, so I have no complaints. I don't think I'm much different than most farm kids. I used to jack off watching the bull screw the cow, or the dogs going at it. Screwing seemed the natural thing in all animals, and I figure that humans ain't no different. When the guys would get together, they'd often have a "jack off party", and see who could squirt the farthest when they came. (Shocking as some of these revelations may be, remember that they were made under hypnosis, which allows for no adornment of facts, nor withholding of them.)

One day, five of us were swimming-naked, the way we always did-and we were lying on the bank in the sun, when one of the guys suggested we have a sucking party. I was nine, I think, and I'd often wondered what it would be like to take a pecker in my mouth and suck it. We had sometimes jacked each other off for fun, but so far, no one had suggested we suck each other off. It was fun. I got a kick out of it. (NOTE: Many other instances of this activity among young boys is on record, and, as with Art, in later years, all traces of homosexuality had disappeared.)

One of the older guys-I think he was about 15-wanted to try cornholing, another time. (A gutter term for anal intercourse, as practiced by most homosexuals at one time or another.) I let him do it to me, but it hurt, and when he wanted me to put my pecker in his ass, I wouldn't.

I used to have this collie dog, and sometimes, I'd jack off and get her to lick it, but it never worked too good. I'd have to finish it myself. I tried putting it into her cunt one time, but she bit and snarled, so I quit. I'd heard the guys making jokes about what a good screw a cow was, and I got a box one day and tried to put it into our cow, Nell. But it was big and sloppy, and my pecker was lost inside it. It felt good, though, slippery and warm, and I was pumping away when who walks into the barn but my Aunt Jean!

I turned all kind of colors and tried to explain it away, but there I was, my stiff pecker in my hand, and I knew she'd seen me with it in Nell.

"You nasty thing!" she hollered. "I ought to tell your father!" I begged her not to-told her I'd do anything she asked if she just wouldn't tell. She finally agreed, but warned me that I'd better jump when she told me to do something, from now on. She was a grown woman then, and I'd often sneaked around and saw her naked. She had nice, round titties and a lot of hair between her legs that still didn't hide that slit, and it was funny, but I was still all worked up, and I could just picture what it would be like to put it into her slit. When she left, I just jacked off then and there, closing my eyes and thinking about her cunt.

She used to take me to Sunday school. She was real religious and I don't think she'd ever been out with a man alone. She used to go to church socials and barn dances and things like that, but never on what you'd call a date. And, nobody ever brought her home alone.

When I was 13, and Jean was 23, we had this family reunion picnic at the farm. I think it was the first time a man had put his hand on Jean's breasts or cunt, and I watched it. This cousin of mine, he tried all day long to corner her, and he finally did, by following her when she went to milk Nell and the other two cows we had. He just grabbed her, put his hand up under her dress and the other on her tit, and he kissed the hell out of her. She fought him, but I could tell that she enjoyed some of it. He begged her to let him fuck her, in the hayloft, but she called him a nasty thing and made him go back to the rest of the party, or she was going to tell his wife. Later on, they drank a lot of cider and elderberry wine, and I guess Jean had a lot-or maybe she wasn't used to it. She had to excuse herself and she came up to bed. I'd been in bed for an hour, but I wasn't asleep. Some of the relatives had brought guitars, mandolins, fiddles and a bass fiddle, and they were playing and dancing in the parlor, so I couldn't sleep. I heard Jean in the next room to mine, stumbling and giggling, and I sneaked out to watch her undress. She never closed her door, and when I peeked in, she was standing in front of the mirror, with her one hand on her titty, and the other one at her cunt. She was sticking her finger in and out, giggling and straining, and squatting sort-of, so she could get her finger in farther. I got so excited watching her that I started jacking off my hard on. All of a sudden, she spotted me.

I thought she'd be upset and mad, but she just smiled at me. She went over to the bed, laid down, held her arms out and beckoned to me. "I'm better than a cow," she said. "Fuck me, Artie-fuck me good."

I'd fooled with a couple of girls-I'd even fingered my little sister some, but I'd never really had it in a girl. And those hard nipples and wet, inviting cunt were something else I'd never really seen before. I went over and I took one nipple in my mouth, while I ran my fingers up inside her, feeling the hard little point of her clitoris. She began to moan and wiggle and play with my pecker, until I was ready to come. "Don't, don't," she moaned. "Put it in me, fuck me, oh, Artie-fuck me please."

She pulled me down on her and I got it in. Inside of a few plunges, I shot into her and she wrapped her legs around my back, pumping like mad, and I knew by the quivers of the muscles inside her that she must have come also. She kept me locked between her legs while she rolled her hips around and she sucked my tongue until I had another good one on. Then we went at it again. I lasted a little longer this time, and she didn't have an orgasm, because she begged me to "keep it in, Artie," but it started to go soft.

I got off her, but she grabbed me and pulled me so that I was straddling her face, upside down, and she pushed my face down into her cunt, while she took my pecker in her mouth and began to suck it hard, plunging it deep inside her throat. She went wild when I hit that hard spot with my tongue. I put one hand under her and caressed her ass-hole, and after a couple of minutes, almost at the same time I did, she came again.

We never did get caught at it. It was easy, really. The one thing that bothered me was her praying-almost every time we'd fuck or suck, she'd get down on her knees and ask God to forgive her and me, and help us never, never to do it again. But we always did. We could never go more than a couple of days without it. I guess it opened the gates, because she began to go out a lot, and, like in any small town, word began to get around that she was an easy fuck. I heard once, at the poolroom, one guy bragging that "that Jean gives me a blow job like you've never dreamed about." I guess she must have known that my mother and dad would hear about it and, when they did, my mother kicked her out. She said she didn't want to raise her family with a slut like Jean around. Man, if she'd ever known who had opened those gates of passionate sex!

Jean went to Joplin (my dad gave her three hundred dollars, she told me later) and got a job as a waitress. I don't know what she did for the next two years, as far as sex went, but when I was 16 I left home. I headed straight for her place. I was big, and, a lot of people say, handsome. Jean was not a good-looker, but she sure had a sexy body-and now, she didn't go to church or pray anymore. I just moved in with her. We didn't make any pretenses, like me sleeping on the couch. I shared her bed and her cunt and her mouth for the next six years. Even now, I seldom find a dame who can give me what she does. Some suck good, some fuck good, some are good in the ass; but Jean has them all stopped in every way. She has lots of other guys, but I don't mind-except a couple of times she'd brought home some teenagers. Maybe it's a hangover from all our good times, that she still-likes to get a 13 or 15-year-old boy in bed. But, what the hell-we're not married. I work, she works, and we have a hell of a good time sucking and fucking each other, so why should I complain?