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Subject: {ASSM} From TxM6:  Helena and Sexy Cousin Janet
Date: Wed,  4 Oct 2000 23:10:03 -0400
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Also From TxM6 Hyperfiction
http://www.txm6.com (updated 10/03/00)
http://www.txm6.com/enfer (updated 10/04/00)
http://www.txm6.com/lcfallon (UPDATED 10/04/00
http://www.farragher.com  (Poetry updated 10/04/00)

Feedback to: sean@txm6.com

TxM6 is entirely a work of fiction for adults only.
Copyright (c) 2000 Sean Farragher.


TxM6 Hyperfiction Novel
THE LIFE OF HELENA HERRIG
MOTHER OF LAURIE FALLON
Helena & Sexy Cousin Janet

Friday, July 8, 1960
Bradford, PA

Helena Mae Herrig remembered one lazy summer Friday 
evening before Green tree, PA: I was sixteen and one 
month. My cousin Janet (child of my uncle by marriage 
and my mother) and I would have sex together. Janet was 
beautiful but had a slight mind. Balanced against her 
small wit was a very precocious just fifteen-year-old. 

At first, I took advantage of her. I led her into the 
games that showed her our open cunts. I knew she liked
to fuck. Heard her fuck her boyfriend. Knew she came
on to my father. We had been doing these games before
I could remember. Perhaps we did it when we were six
in first grade playing Doctor. I remember the tongue
depressor we used.

Neither of us could remember when we first seduced the
other. I remember we hardly had anything. 

Sleeping together as cousins do made it easy for us
to explore. We knew what to do. Neither of us were
virgins, but Janet and I agreed, when we slept together
we always felt more peaceful than sleeping alone. 

This summer night was no different. We were older and 
both of us had boy friends that lived out of town. 
Drinking had replaced sex to some extent. When we drank 
OJ and Tequila, sucked orange slices and cherries; we 
really did. We never pretended. OK, we did stretch the 
truth with out boy friends. What else could we do? If 
we had told them they might have said something to 
their buddies. They might have asked us to perform. All 
I know is Janet and I hated to lie about anything. 
Neither of us would ever have been good at poker. 

After all, when I lied, my mouth twitched, or my hand 
eye movements were disoriented. Actually, when I tell 
tall tales or fibs now (no matter what the extreme), I 
feel that subtle, sexy twinge. As a small child I 
tasted it with more than my mouth. When I lied, I felt 
tension build in my ass. It never let up until I let it 
go in one way or another. Years later I understood why 
I liked to watch my lover pee. He would stand there at 
ease and it would just flow. It amazed me how easy it 
was. He was twist his head and smile, and then let go. 
It was almost an art form. When I was a girl I would 
struggle with lies and truth. When I lied I could never 
let it just go. This was especially true when I lied or 
"pretended" about boys, I would feel as if my breasts 
would wear that sign, nipple hard, like now protruding, 
plucked like strings; see I was always turned on. My 
ass would actually hurt until I did it to myself. 

All of this was obvious to us. Now, years later I 
understand the power of tension and how feeling 
forbidden makes you want to close up your ass. What did 
we have to fear then, but we did pretend. We didn't 
want folks calling us queer. After all I preferred 
boys. Janet I think preferred girls. That is what she 
told me years later when we met at a reunion. After she 
told me she was twice divorced (I almost said so what I 
was working on my third then), she told me her new 
lover was a woman.

She confessed how she loved me when we were kids 
together. She said her sexual childhood had liberated 
her. I told her I felt differently and perhaps a few 
years of innocence might have helped. It was a one time 
meeting of old friends and lovers. After we kissed, 
briefly sharing her tongue, my mouth tasted as it had 
when we were children and teenagers

It is true. Janet and I had grown up with a family of 
libertines. Men, boys and girls constantly rubbed my 
ass, massaged my nipples. Women begged to be kissed. 
Everyone including Janet wanted my soft mouth. The 
shrinks would call it dysfunctional now. For us it was 
ordinary and everyday. We were after all a family of 
super freaks, and some of it was wonderful, 
pleasurable, and never physically violent. I never felt 
pain or physical coercion unless that was part of the 
game we created. I loved to spank Janet. She would open 
her legs and let me smack her hard with a fly swatter 
or once with a ping-pong paddle. We usually did it 
before we had sex together. Janet however had a hard 
time with no. Sometimes I didn't want anything. I just 
wanted to be easy, and she would almost demand that I 
do her or let her do me. When I felt that way, I let 
her do it just to stop the shit. Oh I came. Always got 
into it. It was just that Janet seemed more obsessed 
with the girl-girl sex than I did. I found out from her 
that giving in to mental pressure could be worse than 
actually refusing. Even in that extreme circumstance I 
never recalled any guilt. Nothing seemed wrong. 
Pleasure was a glow that covered our bodies. It all 
changed for the Herrigs when Janet and I started to 
date boys and for Janet I presume girls outside of the 
family. That was not Grandpa Max's (He was my father 
and grandfather) plan. The Herrig girls (and they were 
always girls to him) were a private preserve. Max 
actually told me that one day when I was thirteen. I 
remember it was my birthday. He had taken me aside to 
show me a new yearling he had bought. He said he needed 
to put some medicine on the horse's privates. Yes, he 
used that word. It was just an excuse for me to hold 
him while he applied the salve. Of course the horse 
cock extended. When it happened, he shouted at me to 
hold it. Keep it out, and I rubbed it after he applied 
the ointment. I remember how warm it felt. It was 
larger than any boy I had seen. I told Max (what I 
called him) that it reminded me of his dick. I giggled. 
Max did not think I was funny. 

He said, "girls," should not make fun of old men. I 
realized that Max thought I was mocking him. It was 
true he had a hard time keeping it up. I laughed again 
and he yelled at me to rub the horse until it came. He 
wanted me to see a real cock, he said. I did, and when 
it shot all over my arms and hands Max was smiling. 

I never saw the old man so excited. When he rubbed his 
fingers in the horse's semen, he put them in my mouth. 
I sucked them. We both continued to laugh and kiss. 
When he finger fucked me I came. I remember it like the 
details of a movie I saw a thousand times. Every time I 
come I play it. 

Usually I wait until the last scene. We are home later 
after jerking off the horse. He has taken me to his 
bed. Inserting a dildo in my cunt, he puts the other 
end in his ass. I remembered that his cock was soft. I 
offered to suck it. Don't worry he said. All I remember 
is how we laughed and when I came when he sucked my 
fruit, as he called it, he got hard. Inside me in a 
second, he flooded me like that horse. Said I might get 
pregnant and that would be a good thing. I smiled at 
his funeral wishing it had come true. 

That night I was only thirteen, but I knew the score. 
Daddy only came to my bed four times. I remembered each 
one. The night of the horse as I call it was the first 
event in our four-ring circus. I was almost 17 the last 
time. I kept a diary in detail of each event. Just 
before he died, I read them to him. 

He smiled and crumbled the paper. He made me promise 
not to tell anyone. He told me he would be dead within 
a year. He lived two more. Max always lied but he kept 
his pact. He told me I had permission to attend 
college. His promise didn't matter. 

When I was 19, he was dead. All this has to do with how 
Max considered Janet and I his property. We were his 
little girls. As we left the ranch, moved on we kept 
that spirit with us.

GREAT UN-WASHED

When, and this is important, I fucked what my mother 
and Max called the "great unwashed", rough boys really 
or more like dirty white trash men, or much older 
strangers who had lived dead, when life had been 
unfair, or too fair, then Mama would murmur that I was 
going to waste my mind on some moral midget or worse 
get knocked up by some working stiff. 

My family was snobs, not for money, but for the arts 
and letters. Artists, Military men, and Bankers were 
first, and everything else was last. My, how we knew 
how to show disdain!

Mama would add, these men, you like so much won't even 
know what to do. I knew what she meant. When Mama 
talked like that I would roll my eyes, look away, and 
smirk. Yes, Mother, I would say to myself. They do have 
such rough hands especially when the pull on my 
nipples. Mama I had to teach them what to do. Most of 
them only knew one thing. Get on top, stick it in and 
come in thirty seconds. 

When Mama said the word, "rough," her back became 
straight and her eyes fired. When I heard the word 
rough my sex twitched.

I was terrified, at first, but then my Aunt, smiled, 
and said, I like it hard too. Don't take your mother so 
seriously, so when I lied about almost nothing, my tits 
would get thick and my mouth dry. My flower - I used 
that silly euphemism then -- swollen, and if I felt the 
knot, just by brushing between my legs with the back of 
my hands, I could almost climax. What an awesome word, 
"climax."

"Those boys were cute," Helena confessed, speaking 
about any sort of men they would spot on one of their 
many shopping outings down town. 

Lighting a cigarette Helena had stolen from her mother. 
"I brought one home as a captive," she exhaled. "He's 
got the cutest fanny."

"OK silly, where do you keep him? I want some.

"In my closet, with my stinky, stained underpants, 
rubbers and my Uncle's special photos. You know the 
ones he ...took last summer of us, when we were skinny 
dipping at his old lake house. You remember the one 
that burned down this winter. You were there too. Not 
with me. Earlier in the summer, he showed me."

"You're a fucken, Loony liar," Janet sat up laughing, 
playing at the curses, tickling 

Helena provocatively on the arm, trying her best to 
distract, and then falling back on the bed, pretending 
she had been shot.

"You wish you were as sexy as me, look." 

Janet had taken off her pajama tops, and proudly 
displayed her flat undeveloped chest. See, I'm getting 
there."

"Let me see," Helena was quiet, examining Janet's 
nipples as if they were specimens. When she leaned 
over, without warning, and sucked on Janet's left one, 
asking,  "Janet, do you have a magnifying glass?

"You creep," Janet pushed her back.

Janet pretended to be hurt, shriveled up, turning her 
back, pulling her nightgown up to cover her chest.

"I'm sorry (insincere); Helena put her arm around 
Janet, pulling her down to the bed, she held her like a 
mother holds her nursing infant, tenderly, brushing the 
hair back from her eyes. "Did you like that older guy 
with the fast truck," Janet asked, whispering from the 
back of nowhere?

"Who"?

"The one you met at the movies two weeks ago. You told 
me you parked with him by the lake. Submarine race 
watching, you said"?

"Nothing happened. He never called."

"You liar," Janet giggled. "I never believed you 
anyway. What about that guy who you said felt you up 
down by the supermarket where the niggers live. "That's 
not nice. Don't say that word," Helena got serious.

"What"

"Nigger," Helena whispered, still cradling Janet, then 
turning, feigning anger, Helena pinning Janet down, 
chest to chest, and Helena screamed the word, "Nigger," 
again and again, "Nigger, Nigger, cock sucking mother 
fuckin niggers," and then Helena broke down laughing 
and crying.

Almost a year older, Helena was much stronger than 
Janet. 

"Now, I made you stop anyway," Helena said; you know he 
was white."

"I don't believe you, Nigger lover, Janet taunted, 
repeating. Show me his fucken pedigree. How do you know 
who his grandfather fucked, Janet smiled?

"Probably, your mother," Helena replied, pinning Janet 
back harder, forcing her leg between Janet's legs and 
crushing her crotch with her knee.

Anyway you wanted him too," Janet, answered." I know 
you said you let him ...I never said what we did, 
anyhow, you know. We kissed that's all. I'm not like 
you, after all.

"Who did you say I wanted," Helena was confused. What 
did you say about my father?

"Nothing"

"I was talking about Johnny Major, the guy at the 
bowling alley."

"What do you say about my father"?

"Nothing. OK. I get it. He kissed me. Your father took 
me in that back room of yours and felt me up. Enough."

"What"?

"Helene, he fucked me. OK. After all, he's my Uncle"

"Take that back, slut. Take it back."

Helena pushed Janet back on the bed, unbalanced they 
rolled to the floor, and Helena, suddenly, kissed 
Janet, deeply, on the lips, forcing her mouth open, 
acting the man, fucking at her, and then suddenly when 
Janet stopped resisting, Helena stopped, slowly removed 
her legs from Janet, and as if all of it were a dream, 
she got back in bed, giggling

Janet wasn't laughing. Frightened, she raced into the 
bathroom, locking the door, screaming.

"You kissed me, You Homo. You raped me."

"I was just teasing. Anyway, I can't rape you. I am 
girl like you. Stop screaming. No one's going to hear 
you. No one's home. You know that. Now, come out, OK, I 
was teasing.

"You kissed me."

"I know. I know. Listen. I've something important.

What?

"I dreamed it again."

"When

"Last night.

"Another wet one? Did you"?

"Yes, I saw the man I call Malachi. I told you about 
him last time. 

He will be mine. We will have a daughter. I will call 
her Sheila and the second we'll call Laurel, no, 
Laurie, yes, maybe Saint Dana.

"Will you get married?

"No silly, he's married and has four or five children. 
I will make him run away to Alaska.

"Did you really," Janet asked quietly changing the 
subject, moving her hands between her thighs, looking 
down, taking off her underpants, sitting back on the 
bed.

"Yes."

"Show me how again? OK"

"As if you don't know. OK, I'll play: lean back. Open 
your legs wider that are it. 

Helena fell to the floor, carefully opened Janet's 
vulva, or bud, as I called it then, taking her Janet's 
finger, pressing it under hers, she placed their hands 
into the puzzle.

"Rub here. No, Let me."

Helena leaned over and gently feathered Janet's lips, 
circling, teasing, and in the end, when Janet was 
breathing heavy, she placed her mouth over the stem 
(what I used to call a tea bud, and I licked her clit 
(left side only) and she came, bursting, frothing from 
her mouth, jerking her legs, and when I climbed up, I 
moved harder into and beside Janet, I held my cousin, 
rocking her asleep, while I did myself, pretending she 
were Max, and I had his thing inside her.

"Go to sleep, I said. Next time, I'll show you how to 
give it. Don't worry. 

Helena didn't see Janet half open her eyes and then 
smirk. Helena didn't hear Janet whisper, your father 
really fucked me last summer when..."

Janet and Helena slept too well and didn't dream, much, 
that is.

Yea, and don't forget Grandpa Max always knows the 
truth. He's an expert at finding ways to extract lies. 
Sometimes that was especially fun."

Yes, I know, Helena answered. As she rocked Janet to 
sleep, she made her belly turn and come just at that 
moment, as she remembered it, when the horse came and 
Max laughed.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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