Despite her youth and her lack of sexual knowledge, Melody knew her father had done something terribly wrong. She knew it was wrong even before the rape itself occurred. A threat might well have stopped him, had it been made before her father lost complete control. The fact that she waited so long shows — despite her fears — incestuous desire on her own part.
Her awareness of the power of such threats is shown by the manner in which she later used them to gain a certain amount of power over her father; the power to taunt him, to torture him by flaunting her body before him, etc.
The second rape was the child of the first. By the manner in which she held the first act over the head of her father — through the occasional threats, the exposure of her partially nude body, etc. - Melody invited it. Each reference to the first rape must surely have awakened new desire in her father. In fact, Melody may have meant to do just that. It may have been her way of punishing him for the loss of her virginity — a possession of great, though dubious, value in our society. Then, too, her subconscious mind may have longed for a repetition of the assault. Later events support this last possibility.
The fact that Melody, whose parents had never explained to her the barest essentials of the sexual functions, was so strongly aware of the wrongness of incest tends to support Freud's theory that the taboo against incest is so deeply ingrained in the human race that it is an "historical inheritance", e.g., the taboo is biologically inherited. Wayland Young, author of Eros Denied, a study of sexual taboos and their origins, also subscribes to this theory.
"This taboo against incest is probably determined by evolution itself," Young says, "and Freud is probably correct in his theory and in his belief that the taboo is of a genetic nature."
Young adds that the taboo against incest, unlike most others he considers, "… is appropriate to mankind as a whole."
Appropriate or not, the barrier between Melody and her father had fallen, never again to be erected… at least not by themselves.
Like many cases of daughter-father incest, this one eventually came to the attention of the authorities. In the conclusion of this study, Melody tells of the events which took place before that discovery, of a change in the relationship, and of an agonizing decision she was forced to make.
I was sixteen the next time we fucked… Sweet sixteen. Two years older and God only knows how much wiser — or so I thought. And horny! I was full of the fever that night… and most of it was between my legs.
I'd been to a drive-in movie that night. My guy and I'd gone double with another couple. That meant that we'd had to limit ourselves to necking in the back seat, sneaking feels of each other when we got the chance. Torture! By the time they dropped me at the front door my knees were weak and my legs were trembling. Daddy just grunted when I came into the house. Mom was gone.
"Just like the other two times," I thought to myself as I began to undress in my room. Then, I wondered why that thought had popped into my mind later, I knew why.
As I stripped to my under things — skimpy black bra and matching panties, dark hose and satiny garter belt — the touch of my own fingers made me hotter and hotter. Damn' those double dates. Through the silky material of my panties I rubbed at my pussy. I stood with my feet planted wide on the floor, my knees bent, rubbing my pussy. It did no good. It only made me hotter. And it was degrading.
"Just like the other two times!" The thought popped into my mind again. I felt cold sweat in the cleft between my tits as I thought of the old man. I saw him sitting before the TV. I saw him coming into my room. Getting between my legs. Suddenly, I was back to that night, two years in the past. I was under him. I was coming.
It was a long time before I got up the nerve to do it. I sold the idea to myself by remembering how he'd used me when he needed a little. I needed some now. It was my turn.
I slipped off my panties, trembling with excitement as the plan formed in my mind. The hose and garter belt accented the bright bush around my pussy, the white of my skin. I left one small lamp burning then got into bed and covered myself with a sheet. I was ready.
"Dad, would you come here," I called loudly, and I couldn't help smiling as I added, "There's something that needs taken care of." I smoothed the sheet down over the contours of my body, especially down into the valley at the juncture of my widespread legs.
He was at the door, a newspaper in his hand. "What is it?"
Slowly I peeled away the sheet. With my fingers spread, I slowly ran my hands up the insides of my thighs. "This," I said huskily, "is what needs to be taken care of."
The newspaper made a rustling noise as it dropped from his fingers. His face went slack as he stared at my naked pussy. He seemed frozen, unable to move. His hesitation was almost funny; he hadn't hesitated before. My fingers stroked the naked white flesh above the shiny dark strips at the tops of my hose.
"What's the matter — don't you think you can take care of it?" My brazenness was as exciting as the touch of my fingers, the lust I could now see on his face, replacing the surprise that'd been there. I liked knowing that I could be so… so whorish.
"I can take care of it." His eyes never left my pussy as he walked toward the bed. He sat down beside me. He looked into my face as he put his hand between my legs. My hips jerked once, convulsively, as his fingers touched my cunt. "You know I can take care of it."
For two years we had been pretending, I suddenly realized, and now the pretending was over. I squeezed his hand between my thighs and threw my arms around his neck. I felt his finger slip into my pussy as we kissed. I lowered one hand into his lap and found his cock. It was hard. I squeezed it.
That squeeze brought him down on top of me. His tongue tasted good as it came into my mouth. I sucked it, and his fingers did crazy things to my cunt. My own fingers clawed wildly at the buttons of his blue work shirt, then at the zipper of his pants. Soon his shirt was open and his cock was in my hand. I tried to guide it home…
Let me get naked, baby, he said, pulling away; then while I watched through a red haze of passion, he did just that. I took off my bra. The air felt cool against my tits.
His prick was bigger than I'd remembered. As he stepped out of his shorts, I raised myself into a sitting position on the bed and teasingly ran one hand up his hairy leg, slowly beneath the dark-colored, thickly-haired sack of his balls and out onto the length of his prick. Beneath the skin I could see the blue veins, like rivers on a map. Still holding his cock, I leaned my cheek against his thigh. I levered his cock slowly toward my face. I kissed the dark head of it, softly. I heard him chuckle.
"Developed yourself a taste for cock, huh?" he said, turning so that his peter swiped across my face and I was suddenly facing his hairy groin. He stroked my hair. "Well, I've got a taste for cunt. Man gets a smell of cunt, baby, or a taste of it, and he never loses the hunger." And I knew he was going to go down on me.
As he sank to the bed and kissed me, his arms going around me and holding me so that I lay half on my side, my tits flattened against his hard and hairy chest, I felt relief. He had misunderstood me. I had no desire to suck him off. That kiss on the head of his cock had been more… well, instinct. At that moment, for the first time in years, I'd felt affection toward him. His words had killed it.
But all that passed away as he eased me down against the pillow and began kissing his way down my body. He was on his belly, his legs over the side of the bed, his cock beneath him. He rested himself on his elbows and his hands held my tits while his lips sucked hard at one of my nipples. I forced my hand under him and found his cock. He shifted so I could hold it.
I squirmed as his kisses moved lower on my body.
His tongue licked slowly down through the cleft between my tits, onto the soft mound of my belly, and it darted into the dip of my navel. As I lay watching his progress toward my pussy, his cock gripped in my hand, I was dimly aware that my other hand had replaced his lips on the sweetly aching nipple of my left tit and was trying to give it the same pleasure he'd given it. I looked at my tit. The nipple I rolled between my thumb and forefinger glistened wetly. It was red and elongated, more than twice its normal size; so was my right nipple. As his tongue licked the top of the line of hair that tapers into a thin red fuzz as it flows outward from the coppery red bush of hair that grows so thickly around my pussy, I used my thumb and forefinger to pinch my swollen nipple. I winced as a shiver ran down my spine. The sharp little pain was delicious. I did it again — harder!
His hands were stroking my nylons, my naked thighs. One arm was hooked around my leg. That hand slid slowly down onto my cunt. It stopped there. He rubbed me gently. I felt my cunt getting wet. I moved it against his hand. My fingers were moving on his cock, slowly jacking him off. His hand left my cunt. His lips took its place, kissing me. In the hair just above the slit. I lifted myself, trying to bring the lips of my pussy in contact with his mouth. He rolled away, first reaching down to take my hand off the hot hardness of his cock.
"I eat it better from the front," he said.
And he was telling the truth.
He knelt between my wide-flung legs. The palms of his big hands felt rough as he bent low and slipped them beneath the smooth globes of my ass. His breath teased my pussy as he raised my ass slightly off the bed. It felt hot on the lips of my cunt. I raised my legs and draped them across his naked shoulders. My fingers clutched the sheets. His tongue snaked between the lips of my pussy.
My heels came down against his back as I felt his tongue spreading my slit, moving in and out, licking the lips of it, probing upward until I felt he must be reaching my belly. Then his head began bobbing slowly up and down as he moved his extended tongue the full length of my cunt. I helped him with slow movements of my pelvis. My heels beat a steady tattoo against his back, urging him on. His hands, cupping my moving ass, gripped tighter. My heart was pounding in my ears. I felt ready to faint. His mouth made a strange sucking noise between my thighs, a wet sound.
I could actually feel the tiny piece of flesh that was my clitoris growing larger as his greedy sucking drew it out from beneath its hood. He caught it between his lips. I felt his lips pull on it softly, release it and tug at it once more. I put my hands on the back of his head, tangling my fingers in his hair. The sucking noises from his mouth grew louder as I swung my hips smoothly into the motions of fucking. I moved faster and faster. I strained to hold his face tight against my cunt. I began to come.
It was like nothing I'd ever known. It was a violent sort of coming that caused every muscle in my body to knot and tremble violently as I locked my thighs tight around his head. And each time his rough tongue slithered across the sensitive flesh of my clit, I came again.
"Nothing like it for warming up a cunt," I heard him say through the buzzing that filled my ears. As he moved up over my body, I raised my arms and legs to receive him. He was right. The countless orgasms that had shaken the inside of my cunt had only increased my desire for a feel of the cock he held poised near the gates of my cunt.
My pussy, my come, was a strange taste on his mouth as we kissed. Ignoring it, I sucked at his tongue and put my weight on my shoulders and heels, lifting my body beneath his. His hand went under me, into the small of my back. I felt the first welcome stab of his cock.
The lips of my pussy, warmly wet with a mixture of his saliva and my come, settled easily around the head of his prick. I clawed at his back. His cock moved deeper. I was filled with it. I knew I could take no more. I was wrong.
His muscular arms suddenly squeezed me so hard that the breath rushed from my body. A powerful thrust of his hips drove his cock inward with such suddenness and such strength that I felt his hairy balls swing inward to touch the tender skin of my ass. I heard myself begging for more — and found myself getting it.
We fucked with a passion that drained us completely and left us sweating and exhausted on the bed. It surprised us both, I think, and it was a long, long time before either of us spoke. I was in that half-sleep that follows fucking, one arm resting across my eyes, my other hand on his softened cock, when I heard him ask, "Was I good for you, baby? Did I do you up right?"
"Mmm-huh," I answered sleepily.
"Good enough for a repeat? Good enough to de serve a steady shot?"
I thought that over, really thought about it, then whispered, "Yes."
We agreed to give it another go on the following Friday.
That Friday night set the pattern for all the nights that were to follow. He prodded Mom into an argument. She slammed her way out of the house. He waited until he was sure she wouldn't be back, then came to my room… where I was waiting. We locked the door.
"Damn, but you're a gorgeous little piece of ass!" he said when he'd locked the door that first Friday night. I laughed at the hungry look in his eyes, then raised my arms high and turned in a slow circle. I was wearing my shortest gown, a bright aquamarine one that you can see right through, and there was nothing beneath it. My lifted arms caused the bottom of it to lift above the white twin swellings of my buttocks and my turning motion caused my heavy tits to sway. I laughed again as his arms went around me from behind, then asked, "Little, did you say?" I ground my butt slowly against the hard on that I could feel through his pants. He kissed me on the neck.
"You're little where it counts — between your legs little and tight." His hands were under my thin veil of a gown, moving upward to cover my tits, and I let my head hang limply backward. He kissed me once on the mouth, then said, "I ain't been able to think of anything since the other night… Only how I was going to put it to you."