As I sucked thirstily at the thick come pouring from the pecker of the young boy beneath me, I could feel the bigger cock of the older one plowing through the wet flesh of my cunt, really pouring it on. He knew how I liked it. With hard pushes he hammered the head of his prick against the rear of my cunt and brought his hairy nuts swinging in between my legs. Henry knew that I liked it. That was why he gave it to me that way.
And Les, like most young boys can do, got his right back up again. It had gone half-soft inside my mouth as he lost the last of his come, but my fingers on his balls and my tongue on his prick brought it right back to life. By the time I felt my cunt starting to shake and shimmy around Henry's pumping cock, tightening with pure joy as I came for the first time, Les was hard as a rock and was holding the back of my head with one hand as he struggled to fuck me in the mouth; and by the time I'd gotten my rocks off for the second and then the third time, and Henry had cried out and shot so much come into me that it filled my cunt and then ran in warm streams down the insides of my thighs, the kid was going again. He came less this time and I had hardly any trouble swallowing it. Hardly any trouble at all.
It was late when I got home, and I knew I was going to catch it for certain. But it didn't make no difference. I had my mind made up by that time, and I was just sorry I hadn't thought of it sooner. It just took Henry's proddin' to make me see all the things that'd been at the back of my mind. Like the way he'd accuse me of bein' out fucking even when he knew I couldn't have been. And the way he used to make me pull up my dress while he strapped me, back before I stood up to him and put a stop to that. The excuses he'd found to beat on me and yell at me. They all added up.
It had been eating his Goddamned guts out 'cause he'd been dying to fuck me and wasn't man enough to try. And he'd made me go through hell because of it. But never again, I promised myself.
It was his turn to suffer a little. By the time I walked in the house I had it all figured out, and he didn't scare me a bit when he came angrily out of his chair by the fireplace and demanded, "What you think you're doing comin' home this hour of the night? Where in tarnation you been?"
Ma just got up and left the room, like she always did when she knowed he was going to give me a whipping. I watched her go, then said, "You really want to hear what I been doin', not where I been, don't you, Pa? Ain't that it?" He was pulling off his belt, like he thought I'd stand there and let him use it on me. "You'd rather I'd tell you about who I been fuckin', wouldn't you? Well, there was two of 'em, and I..."
"You keep a civil tongue in your mouth!" he shouted, and he looked like he couldn't believe I was standing up to him like I was.
I finished the sentence he'd interrupted. "... and I sucked one of 'em's pecker. Would've sucked 'em both, but one fellow liked his straight. Ain't that about what you wanted to hear?"
"Little spawn of Satan," he sputtered. He just stood and stared at me, hating me with his eyes, wanting me with them, too. I almost laughed when I looked at the front of his britches. I walked right up to him and put my hand there.
"Ain't no use wastin' a good hard on, Pa, or just keepin' yourself horny by thinkin' 'bout it," I said. "Not when you and me could get together and knock some off just about any time we had a notion. We could get together down at the barn..." I saw the slap coming but didn't even try to duck.
It knocked me a little bit backward, and caused my ears to ring, but I didn't even reach up to rub at my burning cheek. It wasn't all that bad. It was like I'd took the strength out of him somehow. I just stared right at him and said, "Maybe I'd even go down on you, if you was to ask me real nice."
"Just a sinful little slut," he said, standing there like he was frozen to the spot. He was still standing there staring at me when I walked to the door of my room. He didn't say a word when I looked back and said, "I'll be waitin' down at the barn around four tomorrow... just in case you want to try a little of what everybody else has been a-gettin'." Then I went in my room and closed the door.
And — by God! — he had showed up. And I was holding his naked body between my legs, his face against my tits, waiting for the final piece to fall in place. If it did, he'd spend the rest of his life paying for the pussy I'd given him. But it had to work, I kept telling myself over and over, it just had to.
Then, just when I was starting to think maybe it wasn't and that I was going to have to try another time, I heard the creak of the barn door being pushed inward. Ma stepped through the door and stood there blinking as she tried to adjust her eyes to the changed light inside the barn.
"Pearl, what's all this foolishness of leaving me a note to come clear down to the..." She started to ask about the note she'd found when she came home, then stopped as she realized what she was seeing. Pa's eyes blinked open and he tried to sit up.
I held him with my legs until Ma couldn't possibly doubt what she was seeing, then I let him go. He scrambled to his feet.
"You filthy son of a bitch!" she screamed at him, and she barely noticed me as I walked past her and out the door. She was still yelling when I reached the house. I, knew it would be a lifetime before she stopped.
I changed into the best dress I owned, combed out my hair and straightened my makeup. Then I took two hundred dollars from Pa's savings in the flour bin, put it in my purse and checked the time. I had less than an hour before the bus was due to leave for Nashville.
"I walked out of the house and down the road that led to the world and I never once thought of looking back."
And so it was that revenge — not love or even desire — motivated Pearl to lure her father into the same incestuous situation which had led to her own punishment at his hands.
But even though Pearl was able to leave her home and family behind her, she was unable to escape the scarring memories. From Nashville she drifted through a succession of larger cities, paying her way as a prostitute. At the time she was interviewed, she was living with an experienced lesbian, also a prostitute, and felt sure she was unable to have a meaningful relationship with any man. She attributes this to her experiences with her father, and is probably correct in doing so.
It is just one example of the possible cost of sex between daughters and fathers.
Conclusion
Are the taboos against sexual intercourse between members of the same family — especially the taboo against coitus between parent and offspring, most certainly the strongest restriction of all — falling by the wayside? Is the liberal society which spawned organized mate-swapping and which has now clearly accepted the fact that sexual acts between consenting adults are not a matter of legalities now ready to relinquish its control over the intra-family mating of those who choose to do so? Are daughter and father marriages (assuming that the father is otherwise free) a possibility of the future?
While these questions may at first sound absurd when one considers the attitude of the average person toward the subject of incest, they gain a certain degree of plausibility when one reads a history of incest before attempting to answer them.
Wayland Young, M.P., a member of the House of Lords, who has been quoted previously in this book, has compiled a fascinating study of the varying attitudes toward incest throughout the history of the world. It is from this study that I now quote.
Among the Incas and certain other pre-literate societies, and at times in Ancient Egypt, incest was permitted or even encouraged among royalty, and in many bellicose tribes intercourse between family members was (and still is) encouraged before battle, in the belief that it makes the soldiers braver.