Jack Benjamin: The Paths Of Incest

She called the police. They arrested my father and she pressed charges. The law is funny about incest, because all he got was a forced session with psychiatrists. My mother got a divorce and sold the house. Six months after that, I met Tom. He was a nice, easygoing guy, and I let him have me after about four dates. But it just wasn't any good.

I asked him to take me away for a weekend to a motel, hoping he would loosen up-kiss me all over, want anal intercourse-let me kiss him until he came. All he wanted was the straight "on top" deal, and it bored me to tears. I didn't even have an orgasm.

He felt he had to propose, after that, I guess. I was at loose ends, working part time, so I decided to give it a try. It never did work. When I tried to kiss his cock, he got insulted and called me a "perverted cocksucker." Later, I asked him to put his tongue inside my cunt, to get me worked up, and he slapped me and called me a dirty slut. It took a long time for us to work it out. He never did give in. I had to. I just learned to accept the dull, old-fashioned way of sex-never more than twice a week. I used to masturbate a lot. I guess I got horny, because I let a lot of guys know that I was dying for some real sex. One day, a salesman must have seen it in my eyes, because he came at me like an animal. He really raped me. It made me throw up all over him. He begged me not to do anything, and I didn't.

I tried to pick up guys, picking the ones I thought would be gentle and thorough-the way daddy had been. None of them were. Funny, but when I masturbated, I didn't think of daddy anymore-I used to dream of Tom, my husband, doing all the wild things to me that I had come to like so much. We had moved to another town, and I hadn't seen my mother or father for years. In fact, they hadn't even seen the kids. Then one day, there was my daddy at the door. He looked old and tired. Maybe I didn't look so hot, either. I didn't feel much of anything, at first. He didn't either-except embarrassment. He asked me how it was going between Tom and I, and he knew I was lying when I told him "fine." I had a housecoat on-nothing underneath. I knew I was showing a lot-maybe I was deliberately trying to tease him. Anyhow, he came over after awhile and kissed me. He stuck his tongue in my mouth and put his hand on my breast, and I started to respond again. Then, Tommy junior started to cry, from the bedroom. My father got a funny look on his face, turned white and left. He never has seen either of the kids.

After that, I had a quickie affair with an older man about my daddy's age, that worked with Tom, but he was like a teen ager-he didn't know anything about pleasing a woman, and when Tom almost caught us one night, he never showed up again. I guess I was a little too hot for him. I could never get his prick hard the second time, even when I sucked it furiously. I used to assume all the erotic positions I could think of, to show him my wide-open, hungry cunt, and he would try, but he just wasn't any good for a second time, while I was just beginning to warm up after the first orgasm.

I used to masturbate in front of him, using a weiner or even a candle, but it didn't do anything for him. Besides, all he ever wanted was the same thing Tom did-me on the bottom, him on top, and not even using his finger to massage my ass-hole.

I had even tried to get Tom to put it in my ass, but he got so disgusted that he wouldn't speak to me for two weeks.

Then I met Adele, next door. She was having a problem with her "girl friend," (I found out later) and she made no bones about being a lesbian. She had waited until she was sure Tom and I weren't getting along. She came over one morning, right after Tom left for work. I was still in my housecoat, with nothing on under it. Adele was attractive, in a hard, mannish way, and she just walked in when I invited her, looked around, saw that the kids were still in bed, and she went after me. She put her arms around me and kissed me hard, sticking her tongue in my mouth, her hands caressing my ass cheeks. I admit, it shocked me but it excited me also. When she moved one hand around and began massaging my cunt, she brought me alive. I was so starved for some sex that I was desperate. She knew it, somehow, and she stripped off my robe, knelt in front of me and began putting her tongue inside my cunt. I liked it, and had a quick orgasm. Then we went into the living room and she got undressed and she went to work on me again. This time, she kissed my ass-hole, my thighs and breasts, and by the time she got around to sucking and licking my cunt, I must have come five times inside three minutes. Remember, I hadn't had that for a long, long time. I used to love my daddy to do that, and Tom had always refused.

I guess I'm not a real lesbian, though, because when it came my turn to go down on Adele, I couldn't do it. I could only masturbate her and managed to kiss her breasts; but I couldn't put my tongue inside her cunt. She didn't smell clean, for one thing, and I was always a nut on that-daddy had told me that nothing would drive a man away from cunnilingus like a bad-smelling body. I used to wash there at least three times each day, and I took a douche a couple of times each day. We kept trying, but it was frustrating for Adele. I could always come, several times each session, but I couldn't give her what she needed. I even threw up a couple of times, after I had managed to kiss the lips of Adele's cunt. Finally, she got disgusted and didn't come around, and eventually, she found herself a new friend who moved right in with her.

Meanwhile, she had worked me up so much with her cunnilingus that I was begging Tom, without shame or decency, to kiss my cunt. It only drove him further away, and I kept on trying to have affairs with men. When I did seduce them, it was the same old "Tom way"-straight, dull fucking. I finally began to wonder if my daddy was the only real, all-round fucker in the world, or if I was a real "weirdo" in the sex game. So I decided to get some help.

My problem, though, is not that I want to change. To be honest, what I want is to find a man like my daddy, who isn't afraid to do anything to please a woman and bring her to climax. I don't think I'm hung up on my father-just on the wonderful variety of sex that he practiced. I want a man to treat me like he did, sexually.

That's why I'm here. I want Tom to be a man, but he isn't. I don't want a divorce-I don't think I do, at least. But I've got to have sex-wild, complete, satisfying sex-or I'll go out of my mind.

In consultation with two other licensed psychiatrists, the therapist concluded that the answer lay in deep consultations with her husband, Tom. At her request, he was allowed to hear the tapes. He then underwent several consultations with the psychiatrists and agreed to try to ban the inhibitions he had about Marie's way of gaining sexual satisfaction.

It wasn't easy, and eventually, Tom underwent six months of hypnotherapy with one of the psychiatrists. He had been brought up in a Victorian-minded family, where sex was never discussed, and was generally thought of as sinful or dirty-more or less a necessary evil. Eventually, Tom was able to satisfy Marie's needs in part. At the last report, they were still married and the radiant smile on Marie's face was entirely different from the somber countenance which she wore when she first appeared at the psychiatrist's office. The prognosis for this couple is good, but only because Marie found the kind of man who loved her enough to try to change his sexual thinking and inhibitions. In the doing, he confided to the psychiatrist, he had entered into sexual delights that he had never dreamed possible. Edith was a completely different type of person, and came from an entirely different background from Marie's. Her mother was a waitress and both her parents indulged in a lot of extramarital sex from the time she could remember. The home was a hotbed of hatred. Why her parents stayed together, Edith could never figure out, unless it was from a sadistic thrill in tormenting one another.