Incest Fuck Story

Incest Fuck Story

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Love comes in all genders, colours, age, size and shape.
But what happens when love is something that makes you question everything you’ve ever known?
“He gave me a call and asked me to pick him up, I got butterflies in my stomach. I met him outside and I knew it was him when he came towards me. He was crying and he gave me a hug. It was almost love at first sight but first, it was mother love. He gave me a mother hug. He came home in the truck and came to live with me and we were both happy as mother and son.”
“At first I told him,”I’m sorry I don’t know how you are going to react to this. I’m your mom and you’re my son, but I’m falling in love with you”. And he said: “You know what I am too. I was scared to let you know.”
“If they lock me up for love then they lock me up. There is no way anybody could pull us apart, and I really do love him. It hurts he is far away. It hurts really bad. I wish I could see him, talk to him, but I can’t risk it.”
In an exclusive, individual interviews with Daily Mail Online, they told how they are willing to risk everything to be together – and have decided to go public with their affair in a bid to raise awareness of Genetic Sexual Attraction (GSA) relationships.
‘There’s a lot of negative comments I read on Facebook and things – people say it’s disgusting, it’s gross, she’s your mom but it doesn’t hurt me or affect me at all.
‘If they were in my situation or if they were to find out that somebody they loved was actually related to them then they’d be saying the exact opposite.’
“I will wait for her if she gets a jail sentence and I don’t. For me it’s not about patience it’s about commitment. If I’m committed to something I follow it through that’s the kind of person I am. If I love her enough and I’m crazy enough to stay in Clovis for her and crazy enough to face all the courts for her then waiting a bit of time to have the rest of my life being happy then I’m willing to do that.”

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In September 2000 my daughter was nearly 13 and had just started secondary school. She had always got on well with other children and worked hard. But after a couple of months things began to change. She started wearing lots of make-up. The school was a stone's throw away, but friends began calling for her as early as 7.30am. Next my older daughter spotted her hanging about in the local park with some lads from school who introduced the girls they befriended to older boys and men. I was very alarmed. Then she started missing certain lessons, sometimes whole days.
When she started disappearing overnight, I trawled the streets looking for her. I had no control over her. Sometimes she would say she was going to have an early night, then she'd turn on the shower and climb out the bathroom window. Once when she disappeared, I went through the park looking for her and asked a teenage boy if he'd seen her. I was horrified when he said, "Yes, all the prostitutes hang out by the bowling green."
I confronted my daughter. "That's not true," she said. "Those boys are my boyfriends."
As far as she was concerned, she was doing what she wanted to do and I was hindering her. Money didn't seem to be changing hands, but the girls were getting drink and drugs and mobile phones. The men flattered them into believing they loved them as part of a process of grooming them to have sex with lots of different men, some in their 30s and 40s. People ask me why I use the word "grooming" rather than referring to them as paedophiles, but most of these men haven't been convicted.
I felt as if my daughter was sliding away from me and I'd never be able to get her back. Every minute of every day became a nightmare. I couldn't eat, sleep or function properly, and I could see no way back. Every time she disappeared, I thought I'd never see her alive again. If a girl is over 13, she has to be the complainant in a case of sexual assault. Because this was happening outside the house, there was nothing I could do. The worst thing, as a mother, was not being able to prevent my daughter from being abused.
At the end of 2001, a year after her first disappearance, I put her into care. She didn't want to go, but I could no longer cope. My lowest point was the first time I visited her. Seeing her and having to walk away was unbearable. Everything exploded while she was in care, and I had a breakdown.
My nephew killed himself unexpectedly during this time. My daughter and I attended the funeral, and were both extremely upset. Afterwards, I took my daughter firmly by the shoulders and said to her, "You'll never know how many times I thought I'd be going to your funeral."
Then I walked away. She seemed to turn some sort of corner that day, and so did I. She started to realise what she was doing to herself and I could see for the first time that she needed me. I think I had to feel as low as it was possible to feel before I found the strength to fight what was happening to her and other girls.
I started campaigning with Ann Cryer, the MP for Keighley, for a change in the law to make hearsay evidence admissible in grooming cases, a change we secured last year. I'm proud of what I achieved and my daughter is proud of me, too.
After two years in care, she came back to live with me, went back to college, got qualifications. At times she feels down about what happened to her, which she now recognises as abuse. Last year Channel 4 made a programme about the grooming issue in this area and, although some white men were involved, the BNP hijacked it as a race issue: Asians exploiting white girls. I was furious because this is not a race issue.
The men live locally and we see them from time to time. They call my daughter names, and me, too, if I'm with her. I say to them, "I'm not frightened of any of you." My daughter calls out, "I've moved on with my life and it's a shame you can't move on with yours." Our relationship is better than it has ever been. We talk to each other and if she goes out with friends, she leaves a note on the fridge telling me where she's gone and when she'll be back. It's fantastic to get those notes.
· Do you have a story to tell? Email: experience@theguardian.com

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