Date: Wed, 28 Feb 2024 00:18:48 -0500 From: Jacob Schwann Subject: PEN&COB #9 Bisexual Incest PEN&COB#9 Bisexual Incest final draft 12:11am 2-28-24 + P&C #9 PEN&COB Welcome! This revision of earlier Nifty bisexual incest et al. submissions is in the manner of Victorian erotica, being soft and slow as well as hard and fast - an original exercise in plagiaristic pornography. Herein are recounted the amorous misadventures of young Cobby, his sister Penny, and their family and friends. Authors' note: We'd love to hear from you. Please let us know what you think. Our email is always open at cobschwann@gmail.com. Support Nifty! (using link https://donate.nifty.org/). + Letter #9: PHAEDRUS - Chapter I Epistler: Jacob Cygnet Schwann Date: 1932 Place: Old Aunt Elsa's Farm by Pike Lake Crossroads near Mount Forest town + + 757 "AHOY...! ..."Young Master Jacob...!" The huge shout echoed about the barnyard. It was past sunrise -- my eye-lids squinched with big, deep breaths. The trundle-bed cob-mattress crackled and complained in the high attic of Old Aunt Elsa's and Cousin Max's redbrick farmhouse by Pike Lake Crossroads, near Mount Forest. I rolled on the creaking interlaced net of ropes beneath the great family bedstead. Thereupon many familial generations of profuse, procreant Cygnet Schwann girl-squirts and boy-spurts had spouted and surged and spilt and seeped and starched the venerable bedding. Regrettably, my own spunk was still a `Not Yet.' "Jacob Cygnet...! Jacob Cygnet Schwann...!" Immense Cousin Max bellowed and roared across the barnyard from the doorway of the upper barn. He looked for all the world like a jovial, rotund, circus strongman. He was in his eighth decade and plenty fit. A megaphonic marvel, Cousin Max's greeting could be heard all the way in downtown Mount Forest. My own yawns and sighs mingled with his hoots and the calls of spring birdsong. I was ready for this day. It was good to be me. In a few weeks I would join the `Stone Crew Cabin', for my second summer at our consanguineous community's Cainan Lake Camp. Through the open window I breathed in whiffs of barnyard cows and fresh manure. Down on the second floor of the place was the small `Auntie's Bedroom' for Old Aunt Elsa. And the big `Uncles' Bedroom', home to Immense Cousin Max and his longtime paramour `wifey', Silent Cousin Baalam. I was in `The Kith `n Kin' Room' high up the ladder stair in the attic. On this fine morning, I shed my nightshirt. I stood naked in the morning breeze from the open dormer window. I breathed in the fragrant whiffs of barnyard cows and fresh manure. Heaven! I tugged on my very own official grey two-button fly Camp Cainan boxer shorts. These had been a gift from Cousin Steven, seven years older than me. This followed our first-ever wanton "Man-Boy Pleasures" the previous summer in a derelict screened-in cabin at Camp Cainan. The `Man' I was in love with was Steven - my `Special Friend' of eighteen, `The Handsome Camper'. And the `Boy' was me -- at that time an impatient just-turned-twelve year old. [Letter #8 ] No shirt, no socks today. To be at the farm in warm weather was to go shirtless and barefoot. I tugged on just my tattered blue-jean coveralls with but a single suspender strap over my bare shoulder. Then I tucked the crumpled letter in a pocket. Good cooking aromas rose up the stairwell. I hopped downstairs to the kitchen. Old Aunt Elsa in her faded black bonnet and enshrouding attire opened her arms to me. She invited a warm, enveloping hug. She indicated my place at the farm table. Both Cousin Max and his mate Cousin Baalam had finished and were long gone. Balaam had left a generous portion of his morning scrambled eggs for me. I downed them in two mouthfuls and made for the back porch. I soon dripped with serious sweat on that hot, early summer day. I looked over the steamy barnyard and pastures and hayfields. Far beyond lay misty woods and hazy hills. Nearby great trees and weedy grass shimmered in the morning heat. The old redbrick farmhouse itself anchored the surrounding buildings - the ramshackle cow barn, coach house and outbuildings. And of course, the tumbledown `Shotgun-Shack' -- so-named for there being a clear `shot' in through the front door and straight on out the back. Once it was home to the procreative exercises of ever-enlarging `all-sleep-in-the-same-bed' farmworkers' families. Then in turn it had become the hired man's shack, later a chicken coop, then our venerable `Uncle' Laeticia's artist studio, and had now gone to wrack and ruin. Immense Cousin Max was never at a loss for words. He kept up a constant stream of clamorous convivial patter from the barn. I glanced up at his smiling, fleshy face, which looked to have been punched out of dense clay by strong thumbs. Some faces, try as they may, cannot conceal the good-heart of their owners, and Cousin Max's was such a face. He verged upon three hundred pounds - immense, hirsute, and sweet. That word `sweet' is not to be denied. Never mind the classical Hellenic philosopher's studious frown and expansive delivery, sweet humanity breathed out of him - I loved being with Immense Cousin Max. He beckoned to me and I ran over.... ..."The Top Of The Morning To You, Young Sir!" + + + + + Letter #9: PHAEDRUS - Chapter II "Young master Jacob...!" ..."Let us today take our constitutional in the countryside - beyond the city limits of the Agora - so as to attend to our morning studies! Proceed!" An enormous man, Max always thundered such nonsense. I looked forward to our `studies', our `symposiums', as he called them. "Today we shall discuss `INTIMACY'!" he thundered. Max most often shared exhortations on sex -- what he called `intimacy'. Sex between birds, bees, flowers, cattle, chickens, men, women, girls, boys -- you name it. But today I had a topic. I brought Cousin Steven's letter with me. I had picked it up at the Shallow Lake post office before taking the train to Mount Forest. In the envelope was a typed rough draft of one of Steven's papers for his academy school's Greek Civilization class. In elegant penmanship, Steven had hand-written me a long note on the back. I did not understand it. It had something to do with the two of us being mere friends. `Friends' but not `Lovers'. I had said, "I love you" to Steven on our last day at Camp Cainan. And Steven had said an emphatic, "No!" That we were not `Lovers', but rather just reasonable and impassive `Special Friends'. [Letter #8 ] Earthly enjoyments, yes, he made clear. But heavenly revelations - no, not for us. Steven had spoken of an ancient Charioteer. Young and handsome, the charioteer was driving, or being drawn, up to heaven or down to hell by two divergent horses -- the light sunlit one was `Love', the darker one in shadow was `Lust'. I did not understand any of what Steven was saying. I had told all this to Cousin Max when he picked me up at the train station the day before. Max was delighted. "Ah, Love, Lust, Heaven, Earth! As `The Philosopher' says, I am in love with learning! Only those favored with `philosophy' -- with the gift of erotic anamnesis, like Odysseus' memory of his beloved Ithaca -- recall the Hyperuranion well enough to get home! For thus, my young Jacob, here is the topic for today's `Symposium'!" By tradition, Cousin Max had us sit with him on the wood-slatted porch swing of the farm house veranda. But because of the heat, today's Symposium was to be in the shade on the far side of the barn. "Yes, like our topic, it is hot! Today is truly hot!" Max just about shouted. "We shall break custom and travel beyond the Agora and walls of Athens and out into the open countryside!" As was often true, Max did not make much sense. And the heat was affecting him in some strange way. He plumped down on the stone porch steps, undid his boot laces, removed the boots, and pulled off his socks. He wiggled his fat, sweaty toes with pleasure. Then to my amazement he stood and tugged the suspenders off his shoulders. My jaw dropped when he let his vast faded denim trousers fall down past his ankles. And he stepped out of them. His bare legs were like the Pillars of Hercules -- strong, broad and widespread. He stood there in a giant red flannel work shirt and huge yellow underdrawers - faded, with dark blue polkadots. He peeled out of his shirt. What a large, beefy man! Not flabby, but hard. Broad shoulders, wide-chested, with that immense round belly and in nothing but his polka dot skivvies. Here was the largeness of Max - his broad back, his wide thighs and great feet. And he was a hairy man, a furry man, like a bear. I was terrified that next he would pull off that last remaining under-garment. He did not. "Yet let us not be trapped in our bodies like oysters in their shells!" Immense Cousin Max, for indeed he was immense, then flipped his hand at me. In due course, I climbed out of my dungarees. I had no shirt or shoes to begin with. There Max was in just his polka dot undies. There I was -- scrawny yet sinewy and strong - in just my official grey two-button fly Camp Cainan boxer shorts. I secured Steven's letter in the waist band. With a broad smile Cousin Max gave a great approving nod and swept his hand in the direction of the barn. Even when Max was alone, he formed a procession. Now we were a procession of two. He seemed delighted with every step in the green grass as... ...his toes savored their freedom. + + + + + Letter #9: PHAEDRUS - Chapter III The other side of the barn..., ...was indeed in the shade. We stood in the shadows and looked out where the heat rose from the rolling meadow and hay field. To our left and halfway up the far slope was a copse of trees. There was the spring where the farm brook began which flowed through the meadows on its way to join a tributary of the Saugeen River. At Cousin Max's invitation, I told how I was looking forward to my next summer at Cainan Lake Camp. I would join the `cream of the crop' Stone Crew. These were the older, better-looking boys, the well-formed muscley ones with winners' instincts. Each was rock-solid, lean and hard. For the fun of it they hefted and hauled rocks around the camp. Cousin Max began bellowing to me about `The Things!' he felt I must know to be with the older and randy Stone Crew boys at camp. The `sex things' is what he meant. He had me join him for what was to be a mighty pee against the side of the barn. We each dug it out. He cast an approving eye my way. "Young Jacob, I can see that you are well on your way to puberty!" Each statement he made was as though through a bull-horn. I cringed to think that others might hear. Not so Cousin Max. "PUBERTY! That time of life in which the two sexes first begin to be acquainted! Ah, man and woman! You might ask which puerile phantasm is it best for boys and men to have of girls and women? Well, think of a man! Then take away reason and accountability! That's a woman! Ha, ha, ha!" Cousin Max gave a great sigh. "Honestly, I like everything - boyish girls, girlish boys, the heavy and the skinny! Those images of earthly beauty reflect The Genuine Heavenly Beauty shining through the clearest of our senses: vision. This is the true, natural Eros that is good rather than evil, and that we seek here on earth. I myself have a particular fancy for those to whom I am closest by blood! Keep it in the family, and all that! Incest? Well, Icelanders are among the most inbred human beings on earth -- geneticists often use them for research! They are handsome, upright, fair-haired, light-skinned, athletic, bright, personable, entirely successful human beings, and extraordinarily sexually attractive to boot! `Holy Incest' be praised!" "Why, you might be a red-headed Icelander yourself, young Jacob! You are most fortunate in your inheritance! In addition to your endearing freckled looks, nicely evolving physique and poppy-red hair flipped like a freshly tossed scarlet salad, you will be forever quite slender, my lad! Remember, to your partners nothing will taste as good as skinny feels! Nothing! It's not the size of the ship, it's the motion of the ocean!" Max looked me up and down with care, then he gazed off into the sky. "It is a biological norm in male homo sapiens that, in youth, that part of the penis known as the prepuce often runs to impressive lengths, as your foreskin most certainly does, young Jacob! The ancient Greeks, as evidenced by their classic Kouros statues, felt that a modest penis with the longer prepuce was the more well-proportioned penis, with its distinctive taper! Now, having an erection can inadvertently cause the prepuce to evert which exposes the glans, and that may be looked down upon in some circles! So, a long foreskin like yours helps prevent unwanted exposure of the glans, and is a sign of modesty and decency when skinny-dipping or wrestling naked and the like!" My own penile skin tapered to a pinkish `nipple', which Max called the `akroposthion'. It got shorter and flatter when I got a stiffy. But it seldom spread wide enough to let me see much more than the piss opening itself. "Young Jacob, you have more nerve endings concentrated within there than anywhere else on your body! And that is what will be exposed once your foreskin slides out of the way! You will feel that..." - Max tapped a finger on my cob-tip, and I about fell over - "every time your penis moves inside your girl or beloved friend!" My fine pee stream started to splish against the barn boards. While Max's prodigious steamy flow commenced to splash. Max looked me up and down. Then he gazed into the sky. "And so, the Greeks taught that the Gods like to use the form and color of a beautiful human youth to make the Conceptual Ideal visible! Beauty! Truth! A Form decorated with all the reflections of Beautiful Good-Looks - a god, a man, a lad, a stripling, a boy - whose sight makes us burn..., ...with pain and hope!" + + + + + Letter #9: PHAEDRUS - Chapter IV Max turned to me..., ..."You will find, good Master Jacob, that strong sexual urgings will course through your slender body! This shall occur as you slyly watch your classmates showering and dressing after exercise! Your hungry gaze will be irresistibly drawn to the myriad of fully exposed penises, dangling ball sacks, sweet young asses, trimly creased bellies, strengthening arms and vibrant thighs that cavort about the locker room! In my own boyhood, my greatest delight was to see men bathing in the altogether! I was quite beyond myself when I was ten or so and I saw the older ones naked! I could hardly keep myself from rushing up to them, as I should have liked to handle and kiss them all over! While some call such responses `licentious', I myself designate them by the euphemism `socratic', with a small `s'! For these reactions are also the pleasures of the Cities of the Plain, which are of course Sodom and Gomorrah! And they speak of the extent to which pedophilic love -- both chastely emotional and physically enjoyed - may be carried on between gentlemen and younger men! Just thinking now about such joy makes my member thicken!" He sighed with gratitude as he relieved himself. "And yet there are times when a piss feels near as good as a woman or a man, and this is one!" He stood there with his massive tool in his ham of a hand, splattering the wooden boards. "With men like us, the energy leaks out in dangerous places! At night your penis experiments, and as you dream about the one you love, it reflexively releases nocturnal emission semen!" Cousin Max made me stop my own flow of piss and then start it up again. He had me repeat this squeezing motion a number of times in a row. He exclaimed so anyone within a mile could hear, "A friendly fuck is like paddling a canoe ever closer to a water fall! Once you tip over the falls and ejaculate, there is no going back! The trick is to paddle right up to the edge of the falls, again and again and again, but not go over until you and your mate are good and ready! Tightening the sphincters - like your stop-and-start practice here at the barn - helps men learn longer `ejaculatory control', and can lead to much stronger erections and orgasms! Practice this over and over and over many times as you pee! Hence train your body to delay that point of `ejaculatory-inevitability', or the `point-of-no-return', and delight in the ever-greater `hard-and-fast fall'! Today Jacob, you must practice when you masturbate! As you approach the point of no return, stop - begin - stop - begin - stop - begin! Remember, paddle up to the falls together with your mate, but take your time going over!" Max shook his mighty head. "Now - about intercourse! Never forget, my good lad Jacob, that it is our Souls that thirst for sex! There is more than the mere and bestial pursuit of carnal pleasure in sexual intercourse! This refers to the Ideal Beauty which one begets, as we rise from the sight and sense of earthly beauty to the memory of eternal beauty -- thus our natural Eros! Having said that, it is not what you can DO to her or him, it is about generating passion WITH them - about the heavenly perfection where you two can TAKE each other!" "It is not possible to have any act of romance or sex without some kind of good and healthy power exchange! At one moment or another you are Yielding or Wielding! A kiss? Are you the one initiating the kiss or receiving it? The one giving it is exerting power! The one getting the kiss is submitting to it! Or is the power in inviting the kiss, and the submission in granting it? Take turns! To `choose' and to `allow' are critical to consensual, structured power playing! You can be `submissive' by choosing to allow the other person to have control over you in some way! Or you can be `dominant" by choosing to honor their request for the same! Practice makes perfect! Jacob, if you follow my recommendations, as Socrates hints, and keep them ever in mind, you will always have a rippling chest, radiant skin, broad shoulders, a wee tongue, a sleek rump..., ...and a productive penis!" + + + + + Letter #9: PHAEDRUS - Chapter V Max shook his giant sausage..., ...along with his bull balls and great tufts of steel-wool grey pubic hair. "Yes! And here is man's most magnificently majestic manifestation of his raw power and potency! In appearance, when hard, it resembles a fireworks rocket, does it not? And it has the same turbulent thrusting force and energy! Just as a rocket can light up the sky, so it can send a woman into orgasm - which is no less astonishing a feat! Now the experience of sex begins in the mind and flesh, even before the first kiss, which with a bit of luck will lead to intercourse! Your heart rate speeds up! You feel excitement in your veins! The area between your balls and ass hole tightens pleasantly! Your kissing and your fondling intensify, and so does the pressure that builds in your groin and down within your testicles! Then the sharing of warm and welcome massage makes the male organ stiffen like a prodigious and protuberant breast nipple! An erection signals to the woman, or whomever, that its owner is both capable of having sex with her and eager to do so; which, if she finds him attractive, tends to kindle her interest! Ah-h-h...! Arousal is an intense hunger which makes a man feel like pumping his pelvis! That ancient reflex -- verily the penetrating desire - to plunge one's penis into something soft! Try, my young Jacob, a banana peel which shall fit about your penis like a masturbation sleeve, offering a delightfully fleshy interior! Also watermelon, cucumber, pumpkin -- and I particularly enjoy the ring-shaped slices of canned pineapple!" "When naked, this stage requires a degree of self-control, since your partner's pleasure depends on postponing penetration until she is stimulated through foreplay! `Tipping the velvet' refers to the lover licking her vulva! Cunnilingus has been especially prevalent at all periods of higher civilization! As far as possible lick your woman to an early orgasm beforehand, so that she's ready for what comes next!" Max took a deep breath. "For 'Making love' is neither brutal 'fucking' nor 'rape' nor `piggish begetting'! Simple 'frottage' is the gentle and repeated rubbing on and around the crura, genitals, anus and perineum! Even negligible penetrating pressure with just the penile tip is a wonderful experience for both of you!" Max shook himself like a Newfoundland mastiff after a swim. He reinserted his mighty `blessed jewels' into his vast polka-dot shorts. Shading his face and eyes, he doffed a much battered, broad-brimmed and floppy, woven-straw farmer's hat. "As the old philosopher says, 'When I have a man buried far and deep within my bottom, I feel I have `The Essence' of that man inside of me'. And thus, with the influx of the mystic waters of Himeros -- the winged phallic god of love, one's psychic eroticism shall become a mystic analog of homoerotic coitus. So share!" We began our stroll among corn flowers and butterflies, out across the hot, sunny meadow. "By this stage, your phallus is not just erect but the exposed glans of your penis is so engorged with blood that it is incredibly sensitive and the pressure in the depths of your perineum is intense! Try to rub the head of the penis up and down her cleft -- or the `labium oris', or receiving rectum if with your `swell fella' -- for a few times, so as to lubricate with your and her fluids! By discreetly pressing it against her increasingly warm vulva you excite her and get her hot! Then, when she really does want you, she fondles it and kisses it and puts it into her mouth! An art form of its own!" He paused with a dramatic flair. "Then comes The Penetration! A-h-h...! The initial sensation of penetration is one of the most intense and erotic of all of intercourse! After one's penile shaft is deep inside, in fact, sensation markedly decreases to one of warmth and wetness, which is fortunate in a way because too much stimulation guarantees unwanted early cumming! In some positions, like with the woman or boy lying on their back with hips raised and the man situated above between the legs, it is possible to pull almost all the way out between strokes so that each thrust somewhat mimics the sensations of the First Penetration! Ah, the First Penetration of a young lad or lass! And finally, as you fuck her vagina or his rectum or what-have-you, your mad and relentless thrusting drives her wild, until she begins to scream with absolutely uncontrollable passion..., ...and happiness!" + + + + + Letter #9: PHAEDRUS - Chapter VI Cousin Max sighed in jubilation..., ...recalling something wonderful and far away. Then he drove on. "When your partner orgasms, if she's being genuine about it, you can usually make it out! Her breath quickens, her limbs tighten around you, and if you slow down you can feel the outer portion of her vagina pulsate rhythmically around your penis as her perineal muscles contract! It is almost impossible to last for long in this condition without cumming yourself! You will feel tension rise in the pit of your stomach and deep in your crotch, in the inner recesses of your perineum and ducts, which is where we males actually feel most of the pulsations of our climaxes - not in our penises! The longer the tension builds up, then the more often you `paddle your canoe' right up to the edge of the falls. "Paddle up to the falls but do not go over, circle and paddle up to the falls again and again and again... - hence the more tremendous the detonation is likely to be when you finally reach climax! At that point, as the speed of your thrusting becomes as fast as a runner nearing the finish line in a race, and as your cock forces all of its generous length and girth deep into her vulnerable vagina with each thrust, you reach the point where, for several seconds, it seems like the world stops! "You know the emission is immanent and nothing you do can hold it back any further! You are mastered! You are the willing slave of love! And then `IT' hits, feeling something like a bomb bursting within the base of your cock! And with a sudden and rapid force, like water shooting strong out of a high-pressure hose, you feel your penis jerking inside her! Semen spurts out in its own most ancient rhythm, nearly identical to the pulses of the woman's womb in orgasm. But you are shooting life-giving sperm into her receiving pussy or wherever! Your strength seems to give out suddenly and you collapse on top of her, your penis still inside her sheath, your sweaty limbs tangled, while your racing heart settles and begins to slow down! Hence the Kama Sutra makes note of the woman's womb `gripping her man', "She embraces him with such force, that their bodies become a single body" '!" Old Max wiped his brow and sought for breath as if he himself had just performed this act. "Ah, those knock-out body fluids: Blood, Tears, Squirt, Semen...! And you, young Jacob, come from a long line of high and heavy seminal spouters! While you may curse your inherited viscous productivity as you find your bed sheets soused on any morning, your shorts sodden, or you fill a friend's fist or maw to overflowing, know that your viscerous voluminous volume contains a vast number of animalcules that may bring forth new vibrant life! Ahh...!" The moment's silence allowed us to scan the fields, hear the birds, feel the breeze, and sense the sun. "Now, the word `orgasm' comes from the Greek, and the Sanskrit `URG' -- a sudden powerful feeling! A man's orgasm is like an explosion inside your body, Jacob! But it feels fine! Like the best possible feeling! Ever! Having an orgasm as a man may be like one big wave pounding on the beach! -KABOOM-! ... Ahh...! And the female organism can be like lots of smaller waves on the shore! -Boom...bom, bim, bem, bam-..., lots! For many `being desired' IS the orgasm, at once the thing craved and the spark of craving! Let her know absolutely and time and again that she is indeed `desired'! Keep alive the feeling that she is loved! Always remember, young Jacob, as the Sanskrit Proverb says, that a woman's appetite is twice that of a man's; her sexual desire four times; and her intelligence eight times! Ha-ha-ha!" He shook his large head in wonder. " `Consider, fond shepherd, how fleeting's the pleasure'! There is a brief moment after an ejaculation in which men even stop thinking about sex for the instant! The only recorded such time! The great philosopher Spinoza referred to this fact when he wrote, `For as far as sensual pleasure is concerned, the mind is so caught up in it, as if at peace in a true good, that it is quite prevented from thinking of anything else. But after the enjoyment of sensual pleasure is past, the greatest weariness follows. If this does not completely engross, still it thoroughly confuses..., ...and dulls the mind.' " + + + + + Letter #9: PHAEDRUS - Chapter VII Our cousin gave a great sigh.... ..."Ah, my dear Jacob, one must always remember the wisdom of Galen of Pergamon, the Greek physician so acclaimed in the Roman Empire! He wrote that, 'Every animal is sad, yes sad, after coitus -- except the human female and the rooster'! Ha-ha-ha! And so true! Such viraginous pre-, intra-, and post-orgasmic distress is well known among the men of our Drake-Cygnet-Schwann family lineage! In the midst and after orgasm those susceptible males may feel weak, dizzy, soaring, sinking, glorious, drowning, dying, sad, grateful, enlivened and anxious for hours or days! They may weep! Remember, my young sir: all this, too, shall pass!" Cousin Max collected himself and charged on. "Now, Jacob my boy, imagine a ladder with a select number of rungs or steps! So is the sex act mechanism for the body and the brain a ladder! After reaching the top the tendency is to get too used to it and stay there and never leave, and thus become desensitized to its full rich value! So, Nature has built in a refractory period for men, a pause between erections and consequent ejaculations, a `no-response' time to act as a come down! Down to the first step of the ladder! For it is from this first step that the repeated thrill of climbing and reaching the top and once more feeling the burst! The Cygnet-Schwann family lover becomes aroused sexually with `a bodily wing swelling and growing from the root', as the Dialogues record!" He bent down and stuck his great face before mine. "And what is `The Need'? What is `The Need' for humankind? Or every kind? Remember Jacob, `The Universal Inception NEED'! You too shall also plow in that lusty ground, and cast abroad the seed of well-favored children! It is never immoral -- NEVER! - to act at creating the human species -- with or without ceremony! So go to it! We should despise the man who would be such a eunuch in sentiment as to leave unsatisfied the maid who is all readiness! Assuredly, too chaste a youth makes for a dissolute old age! It is not in anyone's power to make us regret anything! There shall be no regrets!" Old Cousin Max punched my arm, about knocking me over. "So, what is `The Need'? Eh, Jacob? The Need?" I must have looked at a loss. For Cousin Max answered my unformed and never spoken question. "The Need? More VENERY!" "Huh?" "More Venery! The chase! We need more love; more closeness; more sex and romance! `And what of morality?', the preacher may ask! For what is morality but prejudice! Is Mother Nature `moral'? Does the dog who smells and licks with evident gusto the first bitch he meets trouble his unsophisticated brain with `morality'? Into action! Venery! Bring it on, no matter what, no matter when! Never too fresh! Never too sour! Every kind of frigging and buggery, jiggery-pokery, quimsticking, tupping and gamahuching! Oh, the gods surely made us to laugh, so that all who hear may laugh with us!" Then we wandered single file along the dusty, narrow meadow path. It was hot. Sweat poured off our faces. My small hand was clasped in Max's massive mitt. He wiped his brow. "Heat, you say? That naughty classic poetess Sapho of Lesbos understood the true `Heat'! The `true heat' of Falling & Being & Making LOVE! The `heat' of lust in action! Being `In Heat' for `IT'. There she is in ecstasy with her favorite winsome girl, her ever-so-young lover! And how does the songstress write of the happiness of their fleshly `heat'?: ... " `Sweet mother Cleis, I cannot weave -- -`Goddess Aphrodite has overcome me with longing for a fresh girl. -'Sweat pours down me, I shake all over, -`I go pale as new spring grass: I'm that close to being dead with love.' " " `Ah', so says Sapho, `to "Die" in that steamy erotic climax of love! What is Beautiful is Good..., ..."and who is Good shall soon be Beautiful'." + + + + + Letter #9: PHAEDRUS - Chapter VIII I shook my head.... ..."Hmm!", sighed Max. "Here we two are far from the walls of our 'Athens'! Amidst the waving sea of timothy grass! Beneath the opulent sunbeams which bestow such fanciful visions before our eyes! What delightful daydreams!" He paused and pointed off to where the trickling creek led up into a shady woodlot. "Whew! Hot! Let's turn up from the path here, and scoot into this rivulet! Then we may soon sit down at some shady spot! Lead on, my young Jacob, and keep an eye out for a place to settle!" We stepped barefoot into the water course and splashed up to the trees. "AHA! Here in this glen is a holy and sheltered place, filled with the scent of green leaves and forgiving grass! A clear freshet traverses smooth pebbles, surely adorned with devotional images and pious gifts in honor of the nymphs and that shape-shifting river god -- `Achelous'! Yes!" We flopped down on a mossy bank, wriggling our bare feet in the cool stream. The quiet of the day was overtaken by a high-pitched mesmerizing drone in the air. Max sighed, "The crickets chirp, the cicadas sing, the locusts trill as we two figures recline upon the soft-sloping grass in the shade of the plane and sycamore trees, protected from the heat of the day! The older and the younger sheltering from the torrid sultriness! One ugly and one winsome! The sage and the amiable! Yes certainly! The proper place for the grace of a Discourse on Love! I shall shed my hazy hiding-hat and so speak with my bald head boldly bare, and not veiled from the sun's `sorry shame' as it was earlier." I felt lost in the silence of waiting. "Well...?" prodded Cousin Max. I shifted in anguish. "Uh, oh yeah..., Steven's letter. Of course I've got it," I admitted. "I carry it everywhere. I hate it. I don't understand it. He says the two of us are just `friends'. Only `friends'. 'Friends' but not 'Lovers'" I dug the crumpled envelope out from the waist band of the Camp Cainan boxer shorts. It was creased and stained with my tears. And now a bit soggy from sweat, but legible. Cousin Max observed me with gentle, understanding eyes. After a moment he held out his huge hand. With reluctance, I placed the envelope in his powerful paw. Max opened it and scanned the letter, murmuring the words. He first read Steven's handwritten note on the back. Then he turned the page to the typed school draft on the front. "I believe our beloved friend Steven doth protest too much!" sighed Max. Max smiled at me. He was kind. He said some silly jokes that got me to grin, and even laugh. Then he returned to my lesson for the day. "Ah, Steven - could you but feel your confused elder cousin's amorous longing for you! And his simultaneous pure longing for Virtue! As well as for the Venal! Verily a search for `Right Pedophilia'. While Steven writes of making his way through this Platonic discussion, he is in the midst of a searing fright! A fright suffered by the one who beholds a living soul who mirrors eternal Beauty! A being who reflects the Heavenly Forms which are the only Truth! As most verily does a form such as yours, my young master Jacob! Steven sees YOU!" Max grinned as he read my older cousin's typed text again. "For you see, my dear Jacob - our dear Phaedrus - the Forms are abstract, perfect, unchanging universal concepts or ideals that transcend time and space - such as `Redness', `Roundness', `Truth', `Justice', `Goodness'. And `Beauty' being the only heavenly Platonic Spiritual Form that we can receive through our corporeal senses! And tolerate without being burned up into an ash of a cinder. Mortals are not able to look upon such godly Forms without incinerating - being consumed in a lightning-ignited flame. Beauty and Beauty alone is at once both desirable AND visible! Yes! And so may youthful Boy-Beauty be the form and the path that the man of feeling seeks and takes on his journey to the celestially Spiritual!" Max's eyes were kind. "We may see from this writing that your older cousin longs to be and work and play in your presence - directly in front of the form of young Beauty and Perfection itself, as the eye sees it! And so he may bear that beauty into the on-the-job realm of the intellect and imagination - by writing poems and prose, or performing on the stage, or acting in cinema perhaps - just as the eagle Zeus had once borne the Trojan shepherd-youth Ganymede to the Olympian ether! Ah, a boy's beauty - that purity, nobility and quivering emotional tension...! It is surely well that the world knows only the beautiful completely finished work of crafted art itself, and not the physical-spiritual Forms of its nascent origins!" I stared at him, not knowing what he meant. "Love! Let us speak of when our eye beholds a young, winsome lad -- such an ideal representation of eternal Beauty! Note the holy terror that seizes the noble man when such a godlike, youthful countenance and perfect boy body appear before him! How he trembles and loses control! The elder would even make homage and holy sacrifices unto the very vision of the younger -- as he might unto a graven image -- were he not afraid of appearing simpering-silly and filthfully-foolish in the eyes of other men! Ha! Ha! Ha!" Immense Cousin Max paused for the moment. "Yes, the reflex adoration of the boy is an `evil' trap! For the mature `godless' one lusts for the youth's clean-limbed corporeal body, but loses the sight of the heavenly Truth and Beauty behind the alluring image! He becomes one who is incapable of mystical reverence! Hence Socrates concludes that the lusting earth-bound non-lover offers the lovely boy only cheap, human ecstatic physical dividends! To get fucked! This pursuit of pleasure, then, even when manifested in the lust for beautiful boy bodies, is not `divine' madness, but rather just being depraved, balmy, going looney -- wacky, nutty, daffy, cuckoo -, ...simply having `Lost One's Mind'!" . . . . . Letter #9: PHAEDRUS - Chapter IX "Of course..., ...Steven shall read further in the Dialogue - which he will by the next class no doubt! He shall agree with the ever-questioning philosopher! Socrates asks his darling boy to understand that the dullard `non-lover's' friendship does not stem from kindness! Rather it arises from a kind of ravenous hunger, a greedy craving, an imperious urge, a debased desire for instant gratification and satiety! Repeatedly! For just as a predatory wolf licks his lips for a little lamb, so does a non-lover greedily lust after the flesh of a fresh, lovely boy! Yum! How odd that the route to 'agape love' - the very highest lofty heavenly ideal; must commence with 'satyriasisis' - the very lowest predatory earthly urge!" Cousin Max pondered a moment with a smile on his lips. "What a noble young man our Cousin Steven is!" declared Max, convulsed in mirth. "Yet why couldn't it be written that a young boy's sexual favors should be granted to someone who is not rich but rather is poor-- like me! Or to someone who is not young but is getting on in years -- like me! Or to someone who is not so beautiful but rather is over-sized and hard-featured -- like me! Only if then might I and most of us ever qualify to have the delights of a beautiful young boy lover - ah! Ha-ha-ha!" "Listen close, lad!" Max could barely contain himself. "Our doughty philosopher Socrates landed his finest blow -- the seasoned charmer! That the Lover himself would be more divine than the Boy-Beloved! Yes! The Lover the more divine! Why? Because the `Perfect Forms of the Gods' would be visualized by the mature one who adores. But not necessarily understood yet in the dewey-eyes of the one who is adored! The Lover the more divine? This is perhaps the most tenderly enthralling and jocular notion ever conceived -- and simultaneously the source of both all our waggishness and hidden wantonness of desire!" "Ha! Ha! Ha!" "For by this it is argued that the ugly Lover is more Divine than the beautiful Beloved! Yes, the ugly one more divine than the beautiful one! Because the god dwells in the former, and not in the latter. This discrepancy is the source of all roguery and deep-seated lust in longing. Ahh..., as if my conscience were reproaching me after a debauch - my heart hammers wildly! Yet as an aging man, I have no desire for the lofty ideals of heavenly sobriety. I am much too taken with my lusty, earthly, intoxicated hankering after a young lad. Indeed, any young lad. Hence this philosopher's enforced fusion of both Discipline and Dissipation! Ah, how curiously fruitful the intercourse of mind and body!" Cousin Max reflected. "Yes, and our most handsome Cousin Steven will parlay and talk! You two lads shall talk! TALK! Have discourse! Talk with one another. Talk about the holy terror that strikes the noble older one upon the apparition of the perfect young boy body before him! Talk of how the one is shocked -- shocked! -- and dare not look upon the beauty of the other! Talk of the heady arousal inspired in the young boy by the older man's adoration! Talk of how the elder would worship, yes worship, the one who is beautiful - as he would worship a graven image, a statue!" Max laughed. "Except for how absurd it is to be seen loving statues and images and obscene pictures! That does make one look silly in the eyes of others -- mustn't have that! Nonetheless only Beauty is the Ideal that is both lovely and visible to us at the same time. Beauty is, `nota bene', the only way in which we may perceive and receive and bear `The Intellect'!" Max took a deep breath. "Eros as the way to Ouranos - (which I once erroneously thought of as: `love as the way to Your Anus') -- in fact means `Ideal Love as the way to the Heavenly Forms'. " I stared at him. "Here, we are indeed talking about LOVE! And LUST! According to the ancient Greeks, `Love' is defined as 'madness'; an uncontrollable urge to search for the ultimate `Truth' and `Beauty'! Read your cousin's letter, and the next one he will write about the Phaedrus discourse. The circumgyrations of language as the art of enchanting the soul -- such that one shall win the soul by discourse! Yes! I believe it is all in how you `Say It'!" Cousin Max pondered a moment with a smile on his lips. "Being good in bed is not merely about technique!" cried Max out of the blue. "It is not about what you `Do' to him or her, rather it is about generating `Passion'. It is about where you can `Take' him or her, or both! Express out loud where you are with him through words and moans and groans! Speak! Declare! Debate! Discuss! Ask! Ask for what you want! Ask for how you want it! Welcome his asking! Such is the true Discourse we speak of...! ...The shared, voiced, `Dialogue of Concupiscent Apotheosis' " . . . . . Letter #9: PHAEDRUS - Chapter X "B-b-but Cousin Max...," I sobbed.... ..."I love him. If Steven does not love me then I shall forever never ever love anyone. I'll choose to have no family, no life, no reason to go on.... I'll determine to be pure and uncherished for ever and ever. And I'll go live in a desert, in a cave, and be a lonesome outcast hermit forever...." "Jacob! Jacob, are you sure they didn't cut your cock and balls off?" I had to laugh. One never had conversations with our Immense Cousin Max. One listened to him declaim and make jokes about all things sexual. "Remember my lad, if a man does not use his `blessed jewels', his member grows smaller and smaller and smaller, until one day he wants to piss, and look though he may, he can't find it!" My immense aged cousin was not going to spend any more time with my litany of woes. We sat silent with our toes in the stream, secure in the shade of the plane trees and the sound of the cicadas. "What becomes of us if the heavenly ideals of the `Divine' -- such as `Reason', `Virtue', and `Truth' -- become immediately available to our lower earthly senses? Would we not combust, incinerate, burn and die from such searing `Love'? Like innocent Semele bursting into flames before the rampant glory of naked Zeus? Is there another way? In seeing a beautiful earthly form, may our consciousness be transported into a state of spiritual enlightenment? Ah! Hence it is that visual Boy-Beauty is `THE Way', and only `A Way', a means, my little Desirable One, to reach the mind of he who seeks to experience the Form of Truth and the Form of Beauty. `See the Boy -- Observe the Heavens'. This is the way!" I hung my head. I did not understand. We sat silent with our hot toes in the cooling stream, secure in the shade of the plane trees and the sounds of the cicadas "Just wait!" Max began. "In Steven's next letter he will write of what Socrates says about such a situation! He will surely discourse upon the `Chariot Allegory', giving an account of the heavenly vision, the earthly fall, and the re-incarnation of our `Soul'! This is a tale of elevating the worldly impulse of earthly `Lust' up to a starry-eyed ideal of heavenly `Love'! `Lust' into `Love'!" "Here is a handsome older youth - a Special Friend perhaps - who devoutly lusts! He is in the throes of a `Divine Sexual Madness', a wished-for gift from the gods! Naturally he is infatuated with his chosen younger boy! He pursues the adolescent! As he closes in on his delighted quarry, his own carnal thirst will be reciprocated by the fresh and randy lad! Thus the opportunity for profane sexual contact and mutual conquest -- Reciprocated Rape, if you will - presents itself!" "Such is `Appetite'! Do we not all seek `Heavenly Love' with one another? But true love does not begin with rape! Most assuredly not! Yet the way to `The Good' never lies in a celibate austerity! Rather - paradoxically -- it is in our two young masters' accession to their own demands for carnal pleasures! Yes! For the path to transcendence lies through the dangerous fevers of `The Unnecessary Desires' of sex! It so happens that these lusts must first be unbridled and let-loose, and only later be reined-in and tamed in a mature appreciation of the Heavenly Forms!" "How? The wily philosopher's teaching surpasses our understanding! In all things human ... the way DOWN is the way UP! Hence Socrates' 'The Chariot' allegory! The `Lover's Soul' is like the well-meaning charioteer leading and being led by a team of two winged horses! One is beautiful and good, while the other is neither beautiful nor good! Our charioteer stands for the control of Reason, the Light Horse for celestial Purity and the Dark Horse for progenerative Lust." Max was just getting going. "The sight of spiritual `Ideal Beauty', such as that inspired by an angelic boy, can enthuse our innocent charioteer to give lead to the Light-Heavenly Horse and hence rise to empyreal contemplation! Yet without the Dark-Earthly Horse, the lover would never have approached his Beloved! Rather, he would have cowered in shame at a distance only to love despondently in remote fruitless silence!" "That same boy-beauty incites the charioteer to give the dark-earth horse his head - can you believe it? Hence to earth and fleshly sexual promiscuity and damnation! The light horse is controlled by the `Love' and contrition and salvation of the unpolluted emperion! But the dark horse, overcome with `Lust' and desire - and generativity - goes to some vulnerable, beddable young lad. There to tell of the inestimable pleasures - and creative power - to be experienced..., ... in intrusive-receptive sex with the elder!" + + + + + Letter #9: PHAEDRUS - Chapter XI "Now we begin...: ...the light-hued heavenly horse is to moderate us and lead us toward the Ideal Forms in the heavens! He stands on the right in the harness traces of the chariot -- the proper position to honor `Restraint' and `Love'! This light-hued horse is correct in form, well jointed, dark-eyed and disposed to carry his neck high -- how so like our handsome Cousin Steven!" "At the same time, the dark-toned earthly horse is neither beautiful nor good! This horse stands on the left in the traces, in need of guidance and reason! The stud is large and bulky, randomly constructed, snub-nosed and bloodshot -- verily much like me: your beloved Cousin Max! The dark-hued earthly horse promotes Desire or Lust so as to lead us down toward mere fleshly diversions and sensual debauches! Yet the Socratic discourses teach us that the dark earth-toned horse can be taught to revere Beauty! Yes! Hence, it is not necessarily true that every love must begin with intended rape! "The charioteer and the light-hued heavenly horse strive to reel Lust and Violation away from the boy! Yet inspired `Appetite' is the true and natural function of the dark-toned earthly horse. Thus is initiated the whole soul to `Good'! Such is what our soul experiences! For, my dear Jacob, the `Way DOWN' is the `Way UP'! We are beings for whom `The Fall' always precedes `The Ascent'! The 'Degeneration before the 'Resurrection'! How? The dark-earth horse wears out both the charioteer and the light-heaven horse, and drags them down, down, down! Such reflex action is in truth the beginning of one's salvation! For the youth and the boy are united there together! Such it is that one's virtue is not from one's own devices, but rather through `Divine Dispensations'! In fact, the besotted youth's soul has been warmed by the desire arising from the sight of the uncorrupted young boy! Honeyed intercourse may follow! Therefore, being taken by an honorable lover who has not been corrupted may lead NOT to massive, irreparable harm, but to possession of a devoted friend -- a `Special Friend'!" Max breathed a great sigh. He laughed out loud and slapped his knee. "Our philosopher says in the Dialogue that special pairs of lovers ~ the older youth (the `erastes') and the younger youth (the `eromenos') ~ may achieve Heavenly Union in Pure Love! And also in that Earthly Urge of true hearts and fit bodies, which is Physical Sexual Bliss! They may do both! They must do both! How? By immersing themselves in what Socrates calls: 'That fleshly desire of their hearts and bodies which to many is both Carnal and Heavenly Rapture'! so go for it, my lads!" I was alert and listening now. Might `true love' still be possible for Cousin Steven and me? Might he and I love on earth and yet mount to heavenly ideals? My heart soared. I ripped Steven's typed draft then tossed the bits to flutter far in the wind. I grinned. Max welcomed my grateful hug. "At some time, my dear Jacob," Immense Cousin Max halted with a tear in his eye, "I shall share the tale of two youths who both Lusted and Loved! Of Maximillian and his fair Silent Baalam! From the first day they met -- the lad of twenty-six and the boy of but eleven tender years - they could not take their eyes off one another! Yes, they became friends! Then Special Friends, with all the sexual privileges and responsibilities and freedoms attendant thereto, just as your Steven advocates! In time they grew to become more than friends, they became lovers -- Sacrosanct Lovers! - this older lad and the boy fifteen years his junior! And a mighty fine time they have had of it too!" Max gazed into the distance. "Those two have ascended from being Special Friends to become True Lovers. They know both arousing Earthly Lust and a philosophic and elevated Heavenly Love! The love of Pan and a love Platonic! And indeed such have they remained, and still do - after more than fifty years!" I shed happy tears. One day Max would share the story of his and Silent Cousin Baalam's enduring man-boy love. [Letter #10 ] "And so, Young Jacob, Old Aunt Elsa recites this tale of how the charioteer's light and dark horses shall come together as a unity! It is possible for love and lust to live in harmony on a day to day basis! Listen to the tale as Old Aunt Elsa tells it!: ... " `Quietly, night shuts down the uncertain prospect of the long road ahead. The cart wheels sink in stillness in the dust of the halting-place. The reins drop from the new-fledged Charioteer's loosened hands. Neither the Heavenly Light Horse nor the Earthly Dark Horse reproaches his fellow for drawing their budding master out of the way. That way has been hard: made longer by their fractious striving -- one toward loving heaven, the other toward lusting earth. Both of them are far from home, and lonely. Each steed stays his hunger on what pasture the place affords. Their two heads droop side by side until their muzzles nestle, their long manes mingle -- in harmony. When the questioning youth falls silent they are reconciled in loving unison for the night in sleep.' " ... I understood little of what Max was saying to me. Except that I now knew that earthly "Special Friends", such as Steven and I could in time become heavenly "True Lovers". Reconciled, I put out my hand for Immense Cousin Max to take in his huge, gentle grasp. "Come, my Phaedrus!" Together - teacher and student - we made our way back to the Pike Lake farmhouse for afternoon chores, supper..., ...and tranquil rest. +++++ + + + END OF PEN-COB LETTER #9 + +