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Savage Love 

Hey, Faggot: A few weeks ago, you printed a letter from a man having a torrid but loving incestuous relationship with his mother's sister. You probably didn't intend to become Incest Info Central, but since you were able to answer his question, perhaps you would be so kind as to answer mine.

I am 32 and my mother is 51. For the last 10 years, we have engaged in a mutually agreeable sexual relationship. Before I make my request to you, may I make the following points to your readers:

1) Stop grimacing. This is not a TV-movie scenario. It's a reciprocal thing.
2) Here's why we do it: Simply put, and putting modesty aside, we are very good-looking people and we feel attracted to each other. If not for those simple facts, we would not be together. In fact, I could not imagine this type of relationship if my mother were a matronly looking lady. She's a babe, and a number of my unsuspecting friends have said so.

3) It's just sex. As my mother says, "You're here, I'm here. So why not?"
Here is where we need your help. My mother and I have combed the planet looking for others like us, but to no avail. We're not looking for a swingers club. Rather, we feel it would be wonderful just to talk openly and freely about our lifestyle with other incest couples who feel the same way.

If a nationally known sicko organization exists for men who love boys, is it not possible that another sicko one exists "out there" for mother/son (or other partner) incest?

Looking for Company
Hey, LFC: I love my job.
Look, my parents are attractive people; in fact, my family is crawling with babes. My brother Eddie? Blue-eyed/blond, athlete, total stud -- but I don't have sex with him. By your reasoning, or your mother's reasoning, when Ed's there and I'm there (Thanksgiving, Christmas, weddings, funerals), we oughta slip away from the dinner table, or the reception, or the open casket, and just do it? Just cuz we're cute? Oh, fer cryin' out loud, launching an incestuous relationship requires a bit more soul-searching than that.

Your forced casualness about this 10-year (!) affair with your mother rings completely false. In all that time, have you never paused to mull over the larger social and emotional consequences of schtoopin' yer ma? Or have you been hiding behind, "Well, we're good-looking!" all that time, like that's all the justification, or all the thought, you need give the subject?

Please. You want someone to talk with about your relationship? Here's an idea: Get a shrink. But hey, you're consenting adults: If you wanna bone your babe-a-licious ma, and she wants to bone you back, well, more power to ya. It makes me wanna barf up the tempura I had for dinner, but I'm not making a value judgment or anything.

I am afraid, though, that I can't offer much in the way of an answer to your question; you two have, you claim, combed the earth in search of others like you, to no avail. And as I don't at present have the time, nor the inclination, to backcomb the earth on your behalf, you'll have to settle for what I can come up with off the top of my pointy head. Which is this: Remember J? The guy I wrote about last week who, just by taking out one little ad in a national magazine, founded a 600-member club for men with small dicks? Do like he did, and found your own sicko organization.

You can't join clubs that don't exist, so if you really wanna sit in a room with others like you -- remember that old Groucho Marx line about not joining any club that would have him? -- then you're going to have to pull it together yourselves.

P.S. It may interest you to know that the letter from the aunt/nephew team I answered a few weeks ago was from the very city you live in. Question: Does your mother have a sister? Do you have a younger brother? Well, then, you may not have to look much farther than the dining room table this Christmas to find that kindred-spirit "incest couple" with whom you can share your dreams and aspirations. Good luck.

Hey, Faggot: I'm kicking, kicked, moving further away from a self-destructive heroin habit I picked up before it became somewhat stylish.

Anyhoo, I want to regain my sexual energy, greatly dissipated through the abuse. I crave new experiences, but with women I am often guilty of being thin-skinned and wearing my heart on my sleeve. I fear I am a romanticist, as I often consider holding out for the "right" one.

Is this unrealistic? I often find myself disappointed before I start, and oftentimes feel dead to myself and my sexual energy, hence the self-destructive behavior.

Therapy is too expensive; how can I approach this? Where should I begin? Bars make me nervous, and so does intimacy at times. Please help.

Hey, Confused: You're giving the shit up, good for you. As for your dating problems: I'm sure you've heard of self-fulfilling prophecies. If you tell yourself something ain't gonna work, you'll probably do all you can to see it doesn't in a sick, subconscious effort to prove yourself right -- even if it means making yourself miserable in the process.

To break out of this pattern, you need to dialogue with yourself. Not in a bullshit therapy sense, but for real: out loud, like a lunatic.

I do it. I ask myself, "Dan, what are you doing?" And then I make myself explain myself to myself. Try it: When you feel those negative thoughts creeping into your head, ask yourself just what the fuck is going on, ask why you're seeing things in a particular way. Are your impressions justified, or are you blowing shit out of proportion? Are you wallowing in misery in an effort to, perhaps, justify a return to the drugs? If you are, call yourself on your own bullshit -- no shrink necessary. We can hold our own asses accountable.

As for waiting for the "right one": No two people in the world are "perfect" for each other. I once saw a comic on Canadian television who wanted to meet a guy she could say those three magic words to: "Guess you'll do." She had a point: Settling down, if that's what you really want to do, usually requires a little settling for.


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