So we crept into my brother-in-law’s study, and I locked the door behind us, and while this may disgust some, it seemed, well, perfectly unnatural – yes, not a little kinky and crazy – at the time. I mean, I was that horny.
I rolled down the bottom half of my bikini, put his nose against me to give him the scent, and started massaging his penis, which came out of the skin, all red and glistening, and the sight really turned me on.
As he stood there on all fours I climbed across his back facing away from him, with my clitoris pressed against where the curve of his tail meets his body, and started moving back and forth. At the same time I was handling the animal’s penis.
He was a young, strong animal and was breathing wildly. His tongue was leaping out of his mouth, and his eyes were looking at me with an old, but somehow familiar, give-it-to-me doggie expression. Within minutes I climaxed twice, and my bikini was soaking wet.
However, the poor dog hadn’t yet got his rocks off, so I stepped off his back and continued playing with him. I was very curious to see what would happen, from a purely clinical point of view, so I knelt close to his body, where I could get a better look. I stroked only a little while longer, and suddenly the sperm spilled into my hand like warm water: he gave me an apologetic look, conked out, and went straight to sleep.
Not the most touching love scene, but at least all parties to the action were happy, temporarily.
A couple of days after the dog episode I was left in charge of the children while their parents went to a morning wedding. I occupied them with games, and then we all took a swim in the pool.
Jonathan, the seven-year-old, seemed to have a prematurely developed sexual instinct, and climbed with his legs around me, somehow undid my bra, and started feeling my breast. As he hung there in the water with his lilliputian legs around me, I felt his baby penis becoming slightly hard. I had no intention of letting it go any further, so I calmed him down, dried him off, and we all went in to have lunch.
Since this was hardly a very satisfactory kind of love life, I started thinking seriously about finding a place of my own where I could conduct my private activities in a more mature, conventional manner. I also wanted to start looking for a job, because I was not accustomed to total idleness.
But Mona didn’t want me to leave. She loved having a sister around, because, for the first time in her adult life, here was someone to whom she could confide her intimate secrets.
Although I never met Mona’s mother, the woman must have been as much like her daughter as I was like my father. As wild and as extroverted as I was, she was shy and introverted.
Mona was a warm, spontaneous person, but strictly raised, and almost on the prudish side. I was amused at the way she wore flannel pajamas that concealed her body from the neck down, even in the hot South African climate, in case one of her children should wander in and really check out her body.
How different it was from my liberal upbringing when seeing my father with a hard-on was almost as natural as seeing my mother with a hat on.
With the need for mature, conventional sex now critical in my mind, I found myself at home alone one day with my brother-in-law.
I was lying face down beside the pool with my bikini bra undone to catch the sun all over my back, and he was sitting in a chair beside me, dressed in his pants but naked from the waist up. I suddenly knew I was going to make love with him.
To break the ice I started brushing the little ants off his feet and told him there were also a couple crawling on his back. I started brushing them away while my movements became slow strokes and gradually little scratches.
By this time he was aware of my intentions and felt compelled to blurt out an unexpected admission.
“Xaviera, in my eleven years of marriage to your sister I have never looked at another woman, and I don’t think I should start now.” He stammered with the air of someone telling you something which was a source of both pride and pain. “Especially with a member of the family.”
This was the stolid Afrikaner mentality. Here was a handsome, rugged, but uptight and conservative man.
Far from dampening my ardor, his admission only made me more determined to seduce him, because I felt that it would really be an accomplishment to make someone commit adultery who had never done it before.
I began really putting in some work on him. I started stroking his torso from his back to his front, scratching him lightly with my nails, kneading the inside of his thighs, and anything else I could do without the servants seeing what was going on.
Slowly he got turned on against his wishes. He was a man, after all, and a strongly built one, and basic instincts are – well – basic.
Jan was a torn man. Torn between the desire to remain faithful, yet already halfway lured into infidelity.
“Let’s just go in and get a cool drink from the refrigerator, anyway,” I coaxed him, and once inside led him up to my bedroom.
I was already sitting on the side of the bed with my bra off when he started to have second thoughts. Bravo. Virtue was triumphing over pleasure. “This is all wrong,” Jan said. “I want to leave.” As he was talking I undid his pants and was reaching inside his fly.
“Xaviera, please get ahold of yourself,” he said. But by then I already had ahold of him, and I started eating him.
He wasn’t too huge, but he grew to twice his size in my mouth, and I could tell he was loving every bit of it. His hands started going faster and faster through my hair, and he quickly climaxed.
We rested five minutes, then I pulled off the lower part of my bikini and removed his trousers, and we made love fast and passionately. I almost ripped him to pieces.
I was so horny at the excitement of having a man and the idea of forbidden fruit that I had an orgasm after five or six strokes, and he climaxed again with me.
Two quick orgasms often happen for the first time with a man, but the third time I planned to make it really last. But then he became jittery again. “Mona might come back at any minute, and it would kill her if she found out,” he pleaded.
I managed to talk him out of leaving, and in about ten minutes he was recuperated, reassured, and ready to go again.
I wanted to teach Jan more than the one basic position he already knew, but at the same time I wanted to go easy on him. So I settled for a few simple variations. The first one was with him lying on his back and me sitting astride him with my back toward him; then we tried it doggie style; then with me lying face down on the bed while he stood behind me with my legs wrapped behind his thighs.
We also did it with my legs around his shoulders, then me lying on my right side and then on my left side, and he was like a kid at a carnival, so carried away that he climaxed again with a roar.
Altogether I had climaxed five times when we heard Mona’s car pulling into the driveway, and he had time to jump into his clothing and run down to the study and greet her from there, as if nothing had happened. Perhaps I should have felt guilty, but I was too relieved of sexual tension even to think about it.
From that day Jan and I made all kinds of excuses to get Mona and the kids out of the house. “Why don’t you go and play a game of tennis?” “Why don’t you take the kids for a drive? Don’t you have to deliver some chickens?” he would ask her. My virtuous brother-in-law was turning into an absolute sex maniac. I taught him another ten new positions and made it with him several more times, but then the gravity of what I was doing did start to get to me, and I began to feel guilty. I had needed sex, but I also cared for Jan and Mona.
“Listen,” I said to him one day, “why don’t you go and practice what I’ve taught you on my sister, too?”