****** A Rube's Story by Bazarov ******
===============================================================================

A Rube's Story


I seen lots an' lots a' stories 'round here 'bout mothers fuckin' their sons
an' sons fuckin' their mothers, an' I'm here t' say most all of 'em are
bullshit -- pure bullshit. All them mothers got tits like melons, an ass like a
sixteen-year-old boy's, an' a cunt like a clenched fist. All them fuckers got a
ten-inch cock. Mammy say things like, *Ohh baby... fuck my tight, hot, juicy
pussy with your steel-hard fuck-stick,* an' baby sprouts a limb when'er he
likes an' shoots his pint a' jism on the quarter-hour.

I kin jes' 'magine the sorry-assed wanna-be-mother-fuckers that write this
shit. If'n one a' these assholes' real-life dams was t' flop onta her back an'
'itch her legs in the air fer him, the boy'ld wilt -- he'd crap hisself, curl
his tail 'tween his legs, an' scamper 'way yelpin'. Mos' fellers jes' don't
lust after the ol' women the way they does after the young cooze -- that's a
fact. An' when they do get a-itchin' after some old cooze, i'tain't their own
mothers they likely be wantin' t' stick the prod t'. I often thought, what most
a' these sorry fucks really want is each other's mothers -- they should start a
club an' swap the ol' cunts. I always use t' hear, when I was a kid, that
niggers fuck their mothers, but I don't even pay that much mind no more. Far as
I kin tell, it's a thing fellers talk 'bout more'n they do, an' only the pervs
talk 'bout it. I ain't never met no admitted motherfucker in the flesh. I
'spect there ain't too many of us 'round.

*Real* motherfuckers are a rare an' sing'lar breed -- it's an aquired taste,
'cause it don't come nat'ral; it takes hard work an' dis-a-pline; it takes
balls an' forty-tude.

... An' how should I know? -- Shit man, I'm the boss-man a' motherfuckers. The
ol' lady limps bowl-legged when she walks away from me. I pound that old cooze
'til she don't care what kind a' noises she's a-makin, she don't care if I
knock her up with a brat, she don't care if I fuck her t' death, jes' so long
as I don't stop. I plow m' old man's field (God rot the dead bastard's soul); I
play in his yard an' steal his apples; I get high off his jack. His wife ain't
his wife no more. *I* own her plump chalky ass. She's *my* woman, now. *I* use
her when an' how *I* like, mostly.

Lemme tell ya 'bout it:

... Roun' seven years ago, maybe longer, I went in this lil' A-rab liquer store
on 4th an' Martin fer a bottle a' jack. I was lookin' at the jerk-off rags,
like I do, sometimes, when I sees this lil' one called *Family Lust* or *Family
Affair* or some shit like that. I never seen nothin' like this lil' mag, an' I
was curious, so I picked it up.

Now, when I was 'bout ten years old, we had this in-ci-dent in m' family that I
'member. M' cousin, Arnold, got caught doin' the thing with his lil' sister,
Dolores. M' Uncle Hank caught 'em, an' he killed that poor lil' shit. That's a
true story -- sure 'nough. Hank's still in that big house, an' Mama says she
figgers they'll never let him out. Dolores is a whore in Nashville. Sometimes I
think 'bout lookin' her up an' payin' her time fer an evenin'. Then 'gain,
maybe I won't -- big town like Nashville, she prob'ly services them city nigger
bucks in her line a' work. I ain't sure I'd like t' foller where they been.

Well -- back t' that A-rab liquor store -- I open that lil' mag an' the first
thing I sees is a letter from a kid who'd been fuckin' his sister. I thought
'bout Arnold an' Dolores an' al-most scummed m' pants right there in the store.
I forgot 'bout the jack, an' I jes' bought that lil' mag-a-zine an' took it
home. T'wasn't 'til I got it inta the house an' gave it a proper looksee that I
saw t'was mostly 'bout motherfuckin'. M' int'rest in the brother-sister shit
kinda went away after that. I ain't got no sisters.

I'd never thought much on the subject a' motherfuckin' t' that juncture. M' own
mother warn't bad lookin' -- she warn't real good lookin' neither, but some
fellers might'a thought she was all right. Anyhow, I'd never really thought a'
her one way or the other. She was jes' the old lady -- same as she'd always
been. I'd never in m' life been horny after her. But there was this magazine,
full a' real life letters (I was a bit greener then than I am now), from
fellers who'd been feedin' their mothers a steady diet a' sausage an' these
women who'd been treatin' their lil' boys with pleanty a' candied fruit. I
started wonderin' if I'd been missin' sumpthin'. I began lookin' at Mama
differnt. I still didn't see a whole lot in her t' go gettin' horny over, but I
started 'maginin' what she'd be like t' fuck an' thinkin' maybe-like I'd do it.
Folks says, I'm a good lookin' boy, an' I ain't never had much trouble gettin'
'nough cunt t' keep me happy; but shit, who was I t' turn down s'more a' the
sweet an' sticky stuff jes' 'cause it was a flavor I hain't never tried b'fore?
All these other fellers seemed t' think what they was gettin' was perty de-
lectable. Now, I didn't think the old lady looked like that great a piece a'
ass, but some a' these other fellers had written that they'd been thinkin' the
same way. Look how they'd been sur-prised.

Mama's got a kinda pale an' sickly complexion to her (not like them Caly-fornia
girls in them mags that's all nice an' golden colored), an her hair ain't got
much color to it. Used t' be, when she was young, it was blond. T'ain't blond
no more; t'ain't brown neither; jes' sorta darkish these days. Mama's kinda a
small woman. She ain't fat -- 'ceptin' a mite through the ass. (An that ain't
sech a bad thing in a woman a' her years.) She got a nice face -- leastways I
always liked it, even b'fore I 'cided t' fuck her. Her hands is kinda long an'
slender (which I like in the fe-males) an' her legs is nice shaped. The sorry
thing is, she ain't got no tits -- an' I did miss tits back then in a woman
that warn't blessed with 'em. Since then, I gotten kinda used t' their absence
in her. But hell, I heard tell a' some fellers that done been caught fuckin'
sheep an' pigs an' chickens. I guess a man kin 'custom himself t' 'bout
anything he warn't used t' b'fore.

I did a awful lot a' thinkin' 'bout the women in these letters. T' a man, these
fellers swore their old ladies loved it up. Some a' them had right up an' asked
fer it. Like I said, some a' the letters had been sent in by the old ladies.
Jesus-fuckin'-Christ, these was horny bitches. I wondered how many old ladies
would fuck their own sons if they was t' get half a chance. Course, I
'specially wondered 'bout mine. I watched her fer a while, an' after a time I
'cided I must 'a been an idget not t' 'a seen it b'fore. I mean, warn't she
always a-touchin' an' a-huggin' an' a-kissin' me an' sayin' she loved me an'
shit like that? I knowed from that, once I knowed what t' look fer, that the
poor bitch must'a been dyin' fer it. I began t' wonder why she hain't jes'
spoke up an' asked fer it. Shit, cain't say, a week or two b'fore, I wouldn't
a' been a mite sur-prised, but I s'pose I would a' done it, if fer no other
reason than as a favor t' her t' make m'self 'greable.

'Fore long, m' curiosity an' m' pity won out, an' I went t' her room one
evenin', meanin' t' throw her a right nice fuck. Her light was on, an' she was
readin' some religious pamphlet that some troublesome bastard had left at the
door a day or two b'fore. Mama don't go much fer the Christers, but sometimes
she reads the shit anyhow. Guess she gets bored. T'was a hot night, bein' the
end a' summer, an' she was layin' on top a' the covers rather than under 'em. I
went inta her room, an' I'll be goddamned if she didn't ask me t' get inta bed
with her, pattin' the mattress next t' her ass. She'd done this a thousand
times, but I took it as a special sign an' climbed right up. In a minute, she
was squeezin' me real tight an' runnin' her fingers through m' hair an' sayin'
the silly shit she does. I was a mite worried m' pecker wouldn't get hard. It
never had b'fore -- not 'round her I mean. But this time it sprung up kinda
painful -- musta been what I was intendin', 'cause we warn't doin' nothin' we
hain't done b'fore.

I figur'd, "Nothin' ventured, nothin' gained," an' I started squeezin' her
right back. She seemed t' like that plenty, but when I started feelin' 'bout
her ass an' searchin' over her chest fer some tit-flesh t' grab ahold a', she
started squirmin' 'round an' tryin' t' get 'way from me. *Stop. Stop it!,* she
was sayin'. I warn't gonna have none a' that, though. Womens is always sayin'
*no* when what they mean is *yes*. That's one thing I learned in life. I
figur'd all she had t' do was get used t' the i-dea, so I jes' kep' on with
what I was doin'. I rolled her over on her back an' laid on top a' her t' hold
her down. T'wasn't simple keepin' her still while I got m' pants open an' m'
pecker out. T'warn't no easier t' shuck up her sleepin' gown an' get her
panties outa the way. An' if either a' them was dif'cult, t'was a real bitch
stickin' her with m' pecker. She was buckin' 'round an' a-screamin' an' a-
cryin'. Thank Jesus we ain't got no neighbors. She scratched m' neck, an' I had
t' try t' hold her arms. Finally, I got it in her. I fucked her what seemed a
long-assed time, an' at last she got tired a' carryin' on an' jes' lay there. I
kept on a-fuckin' an' a-fuckin' her, thinkin' she'd be gettin' inta it jes'
'bout any minute; but I couldn't hold it no more in the end, an' I finished m'
business.

Shit, how that silly bitch did carry on when I was done! She was sobbin' an'
swearin' an' swearin' an' sobbin'. She called me more names than I knew she was
'quainted with. She said I raped her, an' she was goin t' call the law down on
me an' have the sheriff out t' 'rest m' ass. I didn't pay that much mind,
though. Mama hates the po-lice more 'n anyone. They killed her lil' brother,
years back, an' they always use t' made trouble fer the ol' man. She was really
mad. *Ya dirty lil' bastard!,* she screamed. Then she didn't seem so riled no
more, an' she jes' cried real hard. She was sayin', *I'm your mother.... I'm
your mother. Ya didn't have no cause t' treat me like that.*

I started thinkin' that maybe she hadn't wanted me t' stuff her pussy after
all. I went t' m' room, feelin' a mite dis'pointed. Cain't say t'was all I'd
expected. A feller kinda likes a woman t' join in on a fuck. Mama's cunt felt
nice enough (ain't never fucked a cunt that didn't, a' course), but she warn't
'xactly a fine piece a' ass. T'ain't much fun fightin' with a woman the whole
time, an' t'ain't no better when she carries on after, like Mama done. 'Bout
the only thing t' rec'mend sech a lay's the thought of it. T'was kinda excitin'
when I was layin' a'top her t' think how i'twas her I was fuckin'. An' after,
when I was back in m' room, I wiped m' pecker off with m' hand an' smelled it.
The smell a' Mama's cunt jes' kinda sent a shock right through me. Ev'ry body
got its own par'ticlar smell 'bout it -- an' there was no cause fer curiosity
that she carried an odor 'tween her legs -- I'd jes' never thought 'bout it
that a part a' her smell, that I knowed an' was used t', was the smell a' her
cunt.

By the next mornin', I was thinkin' I'd jes' let the whole thing go, an' we
could jes' ferget 'bout the whole damn business. "Scratch one up fer exper-i-
ence," ya might say. Problem was, she didn't come out a' her room the whole
day, almost. When she did, the silly bitch was actin' all sulky an' wouldn't
talk t' me or nothin'. A feller kin only take so many days a' that shit. After
'bout three or four of 'em, I 'cided I had no other re-course but t' fuck her
again. I didn't 'ticularly want t', but a man's gotta have peace in his own
home. I fig'erd I'd have t' fuck her hard an' fuck her often 'til she jes' got
used to it. Like I said, there wern't much relish in the prospect. I ain't a
cruel man. Far as I'm concerned, there ain't much pleasure t' be got forcin'
yerself on a woman in cold blood. 'Sides that, I'm mighty fond a' Mama -- as is
nat'ral, I s'pose -- an' I didn't much like t' cause 'er sech discomfiture.
'Sides that, even, I was a kinda 'fraid she might brain me with a fryin' pan if
I was t' do it again. She didn't get mad too often, nor too easy, but one time
or 'nother I'd seen her fly inta a awful rage when provoked past what was
reasonable. I 'cided I'd have t' face that like a man, were it t' come. I'd
made a mis-take, an' now I'd have t' do what I had t' do t' fix it.

The afternoon I de-cided all this, I went t' her room t' carry out m' resolve.
I couldn't get in, though, 'cause I found she'd locked her door 'gainst me. I
got a mite angry at this an' was 'bout t' bust it down, but I held m' peace. I
went inta the parlor t' set a spell an' wait. After a couple a' hours, I heard
her movin' 'round. Then, as I was watchin' from the end a' the hall, she come
outta her room an' inta the bathroom. Her hair was kinda mussed, like she been
sleepin'. When she come back, she found me jes' a-sittin' an' a-rockin' in that
ol' rockin' chair she keeps by her bed. I don't know how she guessed what I was
gonna do, but she let out a yell an' took off like a rabbit tryin' t' get outa
the house. I had t' hound-dog after her an' drag her back. She was a-twistin'
an' a-kickin' an' a-hittin' an' a-scratchin' an' a-tryin' 't bite the whole way
back from the kitchen. She was in a awful lather. Her face was all red an' she
was a-shakin' an' a-shiverin' like one a' them spoonies does when they goes
inta a fit. She was cryin' an' swearin', an' spittle was comin' outa her mouth.
With the state she was in, I 'cided t' fuck her from the be-hind so's she
couldn't bite m' ear off.

I bent her over the bed an' tossed her dress up on her back. I had t' rip her
panties t' get 'em outa the way. Warn't havin' much success gettin' m' dick in
her 'til she was tryin' t' kick me an I got up t' her 'tween her legs. Her cunt
was dry, an' it kinda hurt when I shoved m'self inta her. Must not a' felt too
good fer her neither: She started cryin' out, *Ow, ow, ow... yer hurtin' me!
Stop! Ow! Take it out!... Yer hurtin' me.* I didn't wanta cause her no more
pain than need be, so I jes' kinda held still, with m' belly up 'gainst her
bare ass 'til she loosed up 'nough that I could comfortably fuck her. Jes' like
the first time, all her carryin' on wore her out after a while, an she jes' lay
there cryin' an' callin' me names an' let me do m' business. When I saw she
warn't goin' t' fight no more, I stood up an' took m' weight off her. I fucked
her a mighty long time, slowin' an' stoppin' now'n then, hopin' if I done it
long 'nough she'd kinda get inta it. She didn't, though. She jes' laid there
like a lump, cryin' an' moanin' how I was a dirty bastard t' be doin' that t'
her. Finally, I was gettin' a kinda bored an' achy in the joints, so I's sped
up some an' finished what I was at. 'Fore I left, I tol' her how we was goin'
t' be doin' this real often, so she might as well get used t' it.

The next day was Monday, an' when I got home from workin' I found she'd made
dinner fer me like she always had 'fore all this started. Chicken 'n dumplin's
is m' favorite, an' that's what she served up. She was actin' in her ol' nice
an' pleasant way, so I was figurin' she wanted t' make up fer how she'd been
actin'. When she cleaned up the supper things, she retired t' her room. After a
while 'a sittin' 'round readin' the paper, I follered her, thinkin' she was
goin' t' be more 'greable tonight. She hain't locked her door, an' when I went
in she was sittin' on her bed jes' a-starin' at the floor. She looked up real
startled-like, like I'd waked her from some deep thoughts.

She jes' stared at me fer a bit, then she started fumblin' 'round in her skirts
on the bed, an' out comes Daddy's ol' 45. She must a' got it out a' that ol'
crumblin' leather trunk in the attic. I hain't seen it in so long I'd 'bout
forgot t'was in the house. Mama hefted it up an' pointed it right at me. She
said what I'd been doin' t' her was wicked, an' in her mind there warn't but
one thing left t' be done, seein' as I meant t' make a habit of it. She said
not t' worry, though. She figur'd she must a' done sumpthin' t' goad me on, so
she'd take most a' the blame 'pon herself when we come t' our Maker. She went
on an on, like she'd rehersed it all day. I was given her solemn promise that
'fore I was dead a minute, she'd put the gun t' herself. Seemed only right, she
said, seein' as she'd prob'ly brought me to it somehow. (Mama didn't rightly
know how she'd done this, but it only stood t' reason -- why else would sech a
good boy as m'self take t' actin' in sech a bad way?) Then she cocked the
damned thing an' started tellin' me how she loved me an' how this was a hard
thing fer her t' do but she had no choice. I jes' stood there starin' down that
barrel. I couldn't swear fer what was under that hammer, but the rest a' them
cylinders had bullets in 'em. The gun was kinda redish with rust, but it warn't
near so far gone that there were any chance that the firin' pin was eat away.
When she had said 'bout all it seemed she had t' say, her face got real hard
an' she held her breath an' I could see the gun begin t' tremble ever so little
from the tension in her arm. All I could think was, *Oh shit! Oh shit!... Here
it comes. Here it comes.* Course, it didn't happen -- else I wouldn't be
settin' here writin' this now. That lil' tremble in the gun got bigger an'
bigger 'til I got t' thinkin' maybe she wouldn't be able t' do it after all.
Then she got t' shakin' an' twitchin' an' jerkin' so's I started t' think the
gun was goin' t' go off by acci-dent. When she brought it down an' kinda laid
it 'cross her lap, her finger still on the trigger, I finally figger'd I
probably warn't gonna die that night. Crossed m' mind, though, that the old
woman might still do mischief t' herself, so I walked right up an' took the
damned thing 'way from her. I took the bullets out an' stuck 'em in m' pocket
an' put the gun on the table next t' the bed.

Fer a bit there, t'was a damn-near miracle I didn't shit m'self, I was so
scared. Then I wanted t' start bawlin' like a baby, I was so glad I warn't
dead. Now I got mad, an' fer a minute or so there warn't nothin' I wanted t' do
so much as t' beat her wi' m' fists. I didn't do it, though, an' m' anger jes'
kinda drained outa me. Mama was jes' sittin' there starin' at the floor, sayin'
over an' over, more t' herself than t' me, *I couldn't do it.... I couldn't do
it.* I fig'rd I'd better get t' work on the business I'd come fer -- wouldn't
do t' let her think she'd scared me outa it. I tol' her t' stand up 'n bend
over the bed. She jerked like she been slapped when I said that, an' she looked
up at me an' said right out like she *was* talkin' t' me now, *I couldn't do
it.* After a minute, her eyes kinda cleared like she was wakin' from a walkin'
sleep or somthin'. She said, *I guess I made m' choice.* She said it real
tired-like, then she stood up an' turned 'round an' bent herself over the bed.
Sure 'nough, with all the excitement, I warn't quite in no state fer fuckin',
an' I had t' stand there a few minutes slappin' m' cock 'gainst them plump
cheeks a' her ass t' get it up 'nough t' do what I come fer. She jes' lay
there, her eyes open, starin' at nothin', while I done it, an when I was
through she didn't say nothin' -- jes' lay there lookin' real pitiful. She
didn't even turn down her dress when I was done. I was feelin' kinda sorry fer
her, but I didn't see as there was much I could do. I set down next t' her an'
flipped down her clothes. I patted her back, tryin' t' be comfortin', but
mostly jes' feelin' awkward. *Ya don't have t' take it so bad,* I said, *I
never meant ya t'.... I hoped it might be nice 'tween us.* Then I tol' her all
'bout them folks in the magazines. She had her face turned from me, an' fer all
I could tell she never heard a word of it. I took the gun from off a' her table
an went off t' bed. The next mornin' I threw it in the river.

After that night, she never resisted me no more. The next mornin' when I come
out -- real quick like while the cakes was on the griddle -- I picked her up an
set her on the edge a' the table there in the kitchen. She jes' sat there real
patient-like, an' when I was done she jes' went back t' her stove an' finished
makin' m' breakfast. That night, I done her on her bed again -- only this time
there warn't no reason not t' lie on her belly if'n I wanted t'. Well, I fucked
her like a rabbit fer 'bout a week. By the end a' that time, I was gettin'
kinda bored. She warn't by far the most fun I'd ever had with m' dick outa m'
pants. She didn't think too much a' me neither. I'd set upon fuckin' her ever'
day, thinkin' she'd get used t' it an' maybe take a likin' an' then we'd have
ourselves a good time. The joke was on me, all right. She was gettin' used to
it. Fo' shore. She was gettin used t' it the same way an ol' feller might get
used t' havin' his doctor stuff his fingers up his behind ever' twelve months -
- didn't seem t' hurt her none, but she didn't seem t' like it any, either.
Mama was a dead lay. She never helped none in the bump an' grind of it. I'd
tell her t' move her ass, an', right obligin' 'nough, she'd move her ass fer
me; but I guess there ain't no rhythm where there ain't no pleasure. She was
seemin' t' get back t' normal, actin' her ol' self, so I kinda de-cided that
I'd do us both a favor an give her ass a rest. I'd let her pussy re-tire from
active service. I fig'rd that was prob'ly what she wanted.

On 'bout the third day after I started neglectin' her, she asked me, concerned-
like, if'n I'd taken sick. I don't think she was *askin'* fer a fuck or none a'
that, she was jes' worried that I hain't been *takin'* one. Fact was, I was
feelin' kinda squirrely. I'd done got used t' gettin m' nuts off once or twice
a day, an' after a few days respite I was missin' it kinda bad. I kep' thinkin'
I'd have t' get out a' the house, come an evenin', an' find m'self a piece a'
ass, but I kep' puttin' it off an' never done it. When I finally broke down
after 'bout five or six days, Mama was real solicitous. She didn't seem no
hotter fer it than b'fore. I think t'was out a' kindness t' me that she took
down her own panties an' bent herself over the sofa an flipped her dress up
over her back. I was int' her mighty quick. It was like comin' home. I watched
her big white ass jiggle as I fucked her, an' I started playin' with it -
- cuppin' an' squeezin' it with m' hands. I pulled her cheeks 'part t' look at
her goodies. There warn't nothin' partic'lar bout the sight a' her ruddy-pink
ass-hole. It even had some a' them dark hairs growin' 'round it, a sight I
didn't much like back then. (I used 't think them shaved bitches in them mags
was the hottest.) Right then an' there, though, I lost it an' started squirtin'
m' stuff. T'was jes' the thought of it, I reckon, that here I was, pryin' open
the crack a' m' own Mama's ass an' starin' at her there, even watchin' where m'
cock was slidin' in an' outa her. When we was done, I thanked her, an, real
perty-like, she tol' me I was welcome. That made me realize, right there, that
she warn't adverse no more t' m' doin' her. Seemed funny, she could take so
much fuckin' without the least sign a' likin' it. I could a' understood it if
she was real young or gettin' on more 'n she was. But she was married long
'nough t' know what fuckin' was 'bout, an' she warn't so old that the sap was
drained outa her. I 'cided then I'd jes' have t' do some better convincin' an'
get m' Mama t' take a lil' pleasure from it even if I was her son.

The next day, I tol' her I was wantin' t' fuck again, an' we went t' her room.
I tol' her t' take off all a' her clothes. She seemed a-kinda re-luctant t' do
that -- I'd never seen her completely neked b'fore -- but I made it clear I was
gonna have her that way, so she done what I tol' her. I got neked m'self, an we
both lay down on that bed a' hers. I was thinkin' t' m'self 'bout then that I'd
be damned if I let her up off it b'fore she'd enjoyed herself some. I started
kissin' her on the face an on the lips in ways that I hain't never kissed her
b'fore. She warn't really kissin' me back 'til I tol' her to, an', even then,
seemed I was doin' most a' the work. All this while, I was kinda playin' wi'
her teats. (I think I done said b'fore, m' Mama ain't hardly got no tit-flesh
on her chest -- jes' her womanly teats.) I was rubbin' them paps, an' ticklin',
an' pinchin' at 'em, an' I 'member feelin' mighty satisfied that I finally got
'em t' stand up a bit. When I saw I'd done that, I started tryin' t' rub her
b'tween her legs. Her kisses was unpracticed, but they was comin' 'long 'til I
went an' touched her on her cunt. Then she tensed up some an' got distracted. I
had t' tell her t' open her legs again an' then t' rub her a right smart while
b'fore she didn't seem t' mind no more. M' Mama's growed over real thick down
where her private parts is. She got quite a spread, too. I don't mean she's one
a' them hairy bitches with fur growin' all down her thighs an' up over her
belly to her navel, but damn if she don't sport a dense an' tangled wilderness
a' hairs down there. She might as well not got no quim at all fer' all a feller
kin see 'less'n he's got her legs all splayed back an' he's ticklin his nose up
'gainst it.

Well, dangee, there it's almost said. I'm kinda 'shamed t' tell ya what I done
next. There ain't no dignity in a man lickin' a woman b'tween her legs like he
was some old cur-dog, but that's what I done t' Mama. She kep' tryin' t' close
her legs an' t' get away from me at first. Guess she thought I was gonna take a
bite out a' her like what she was sportin' was a hard an' shiny red apple
'stead a' the rubbery thing it is. After a wee lil' while, though, she settled
down some an let me push her knees back an' have m' way. At first, I jes'
licked at her down there without much discriminatin'. I was tryin' t' get the
best a' all that hair, fillin' m' mouth with it an tryin' t' slick it back some
with m' spittle. I finally got kinda smart, though, an' I pried them fat pads
a' her quim open with m' fingers so I could get t' the pinky parts inside. She
was layin' 'spiciously still fer a woman gettin' her cunt licked, an' at the
same time she was tryin' t' tell me how I warn't supposed t' be doin' this
'cause it was discustin' dirty. Course, she was right, bless her. I kept on,
though, out a' duty. 'Sides that, her smell warn't nothin' I couldn't get used
t', an' there warn't nothin' objectionable 'bout her taste. 'Long 'bout the
time m' mouth was startin' t' feel kinda stretched an' strained, Mama gave her
ass a flex that made her muff roll 'round in a nice lazy circle. I looked up
when this happened, expectin' I was finally gettin' somewhere, an', sure
'nough, there was her teats pokin' inta the air like a pair a' fingertips. Her
head was kinda forced up 'gainst the top-board a' the bed (must'a happened when
she was tryin' t' get 'way from me), an' she was lookin' at me. Only, I ain't
too sure she was seein' much, cause her eyes was part closed an' was lookin'
kinda unfocussed-like. The veins an' tendons an' shit was standin' out on her
neck, an' her face was lookin' perty red. Once she started movin' her ass I had
a hard time keepin' her still. She got away from me once, an' her cunt smeared
'cross m' forehead an' inta m' eyes. I found her quim would stay mostly open on
its own now, so I grabbed the cheeks a' her butt fer a better purchase. T'was
kinda like ridin' a mule that don't wanna be rid. Then she strained up mighty,
made a few lil' funny sounds outta her throat, shivered a bit, an' slowly
relaxed. It was over.

When I was sure she was done, I pulled her down off a' the top-board (didn't
want her t' get a crick in her neck). Then I stretched m'self down next t' her,
an' I rubbed her teats an' her belly an' her cunt while she jes' lay there like
she was sleepin'. After a while, she pushed m' hand outa her bush an' said,
*Yer makin' me feel funny 'gain, Zeke.* I didn't know what t' make a' that.
*Makin' ya feel funny? Shit Mama, didn't ya like it?,* I said t' her. She was
willin' 'nough t' admit she did. *I jes' ain't never felt nothin' like it,* she
tol' me. She wanted t' know if'n I'd slipped sumpthin' in her coffee without
her takin' a notice to it. I couldn't hardly believe m' ears when she was
tellin' me that she hain't never spent b'fore, but she swears it t' this day
that that was the first. She tol' me later that she'd sometimes heard other
women talk 'bout the wifely duties they done their husbands t' make it sound
like they enjoyed it. She wouldn't have none a' that, an' she took 'em fer
liars. Hain't she done it with the old man 'nough times t' know? She was always
jes' happy it didn't hurt no more like it done when she was first married.

Shit! I always knowed the old man fer a waste a' good liquor. What a sorry son-
a'-a-bitch t' live fifteen years with a woman an' never once give her pleasure
in bed! What a waste of a perfectly servicable piece a' ass! It don't grow on
trees, ya know. I had t'stick m' hand back inta her muff fer a while t' proove
that I warn't kiddin' none 'bout her coffee. After that, seein' as I needed
some re-lief m'self, I put m' cock t' her, an' I'll be damned if she didn't
seem t' like that jes' as much! There ain't no tellin' 'bout a woman. She'd
been frigid all a' her life, then bam!, bam!, bam!, one, two, three, an' after
that she was horny as anybody -- shit, almost horny as me.

Mama never seemed t' resent me fer fuckin' her no more after that day. She took
t' m' prick like a ducklin' takes t' the water. 'Fore long, she'd even come an
ask me fer it sometimes. (*Darlin',* she'd say, *I'm feelin' kinda funny
again.*) Even when she warn't the one who done the askin', she always seemed
right pleased t' have me scrunched up t' her b'tween her knees. I had m'
favorite ways a' fuckin' her, too. When we was in bed, I liked it on her belly
best, 'cause I liked t' feel her breath on m' face when she got excited. I'm a
feller who likes variety, though, so I fucked her ever' way I could think of. I
done her in ever' room a' the house an' outside, all round 'bout the place that
was outa sight a' the road. I even taught her t' suck m' dick -- only seemed
fair seein' as I'd licked her cunt fer her. She didn't seem t' mind the
suckin', but she'd no how abide m' commin' in her mouth. I held on t' her once
an' made her swaller, thinkin' she'd get used t' the taste an' maybe even get
t' likin' it like them women in them story mags, but she throwed up all over
the floor. 'Ceptin' once or twice by accident, I never fetched off in her mouth
again. I always let her know in time. Mama was partial t' the experience I give
her lickin' her cunt, an' I might as well 'fess I kinda got inta the habit a'
doin' that fer her ever' once in a while as a sort of a treat.

That time I made her get sick warn't the only unfortunate incident we had
b'tween us. There was also the time 'bout a year later when I done her in her
ass. Without lettin' her see, I lubed m' prick up real liberal-like with axel
grease. I damn-well near bent it in half tryin' t' get it in, an' she fought me
like a saber-cat, screamin' an' wailin' the whole time like I was killin' her.
When I was re-laxin', kinda sleepy-like after I was done -- the way a feller
naturally gets when he's jes' done his business -- she went an' took up that
brass lamp that sets on the table next t' her bed an' lit inta me like she was
meanin' t' turn m' head inta a jellied mess. I don't know how long I was out
fer. When I woke, she was holdin' her backside an' moanin' that I done tore up
her innards an' killed her. She seemed kinda s'prised-like when the hurtin'
passed off an' she didn't d'part this world after all. I tried t' give her hell
fer whollopin' me with the lamp, but she made me had t' promise her I'd never
do her like that again. Fuck! never liked shit on m' dick no-how.

Most fellers likes fuckin' their women neked whenever they kin, an' I don't
wanna knock that, 'cause I'm partial as partial kin be t' that, m'self. But,
from early on, I sometimes liked fuckin' Mama when she had her clothes on. She
ain't a very big woman, an' I ain't so tall m'self, so there warn't never so
much discomfort in standin' fucks 'tween us as I hear tell there t' be fer lots
'a other folks. I'd get her up 'gainst the door-jam in the kitchen, an' I
wouldn't disturb her clothin' no more than I'd have t'. I'd jes' pull her dress
up in front an' push the crotch a' her panties t' the side. Once I was in her,
there warn't no way t' see none a' her nakedness. Her dress 'ld be jes' a
little bunched 'bove where we was joined. She'd stand on her toes an' lean back
in t' the jam, an' I was able t' stand there flat-footed an' do her. Mama had
always been a kinda modest woman. I don't recall never havin' seen her neked
'fore I started fuckin' her. Fer a long time it seemed mighty queer t' see her
undressed. I guess maybe it had sumpthin' t' do with this that I liked it so
much when we fucked standin' up in the kitchen, an' I could lean back an look
at her an see her more like I was used t'. She'd keep the lust outa her black
eyes at first, an' she'd jes' stand there lookin' at me, neat an' trim in her
gray or blue dress. All the other times those first few months, it seemed kinda
unreal when I was fuckin' her. Those times we done it standin' up an' dressed
like that, though, it'd scare me way down in m' belly in a way I liked, 'cause
there didn't seem no way fer me t' 'scape the knowin' that here I was servicin'
m' very own mother.

I was always bendin' her over, too. I'd do her neked or with her clothes on -
- any way m' fancy would strike me or whatever seemed convenient at the time. I
like fuckin' while standin' up, an' I'd bend her over anything that'd come t'
hand. I'd also have her bend over standin' an brace her hands on her knees or
on the floor. She'd get t' gruntin' kinda loud when we'd do it that way. (I
don't know why -- maybe cause the gravity'd bring all her guts t' rest 'pon her
diaphram, her head down near the floor like that.) 'Nother way I'd like t' do
it t' her was t' put her on her back an' bend her double with her ankles on m'
shoulders. Mama was kinda limber considerin' she warn't no young girl no more.
She got nice-turned feet, an' I liked holdin' her by 'em when we fucked. I
ain't no toe sucker, but I guess I do got a thing fer a perty foot. I also
liked holdin her ankles together with both m' hands. I'd bend her back far
'nough, then enjoy the sight a' her ass an' the backs a' her thighs an' her fat
muff where it puffed out from b'tween 'em. I'd get m'self inside a' her, an'
hold her ankles like that 'bout as far out in front a' me as I could, an' stare
down -- right down at the sights -- whatchin' m'self saw in an' out a' them big
hairy lips, while I was slappin' her ass with m' loins an makin' us both right
happy.

I always liked the sounds a couple a' fuckin' bodies 'll make when they ain't
worried none 'bout bein' overheard. So when I'd fuck Mama, I'd sometimes set t'
clappin' m'self inta her ass as hard an' fast as I could t' see how loud I
could slap her. I also liked makin' her grunt the funny way she would when I
fucked her with her head down closer t' the floor than her rump. One a' m' most
favorite things t' do was when I'd have her goin' real good an' the fruity-
juice was jes' droolin' out of her, an' I'd move m' dick up or down or t' one
side or the other some while I was doin' the ol' push an' pull on her. I'd get
her cunt t' sluppin' real loud, an' I'd fuck her real fast so the noise 'ld
fill up the room so's you couldn't hardly hear nothin' else. She'd say I was
bein' disgustin', but she'd never make too big a fuss outa it. She always liked
t' see me havin' a good time.

Fer a long time there warn't nothin' I liked so much as the times we spent a-
fuckin'. Mama got mighty adept at it, an' her ass livened up t' a point she
seemed a different woman entire from the one I first started fuckin'. I got
attached t' her t' an extent that seems queer given all she lacked in youth an'
beauty. 'Fore long, I worked m'self inta sech a state that I liked ever'thing
'bout her, an' I had m'self thinkin' I liked her flaws best a' all. I liked her
pasty complexion, I liked them lil' lines at the corner a' her eyes, I liked
how she was kinda small an' skinny over all but how there was more flesh t' her
backside than seemed in proper proportion, I liked how her belly's got a lil'
roll to it an' ain't flat no more, I liked the way her hip bones stick up kinda
sharp when she's layin' on her back, an' I got t' like how bushy her cunt was.
Shit! I even got t' likin' her flat chest. I 'member feelin' all choked-up-
like, slaverin' over her dark lil' paps, thinkin' how perty they was with
hardly no tit-flesh paddin' them from her ribs.

I know what yer thinkin'. Yer thinkin', *Shit! This poor peckerwood went an'
fell deep in love with his own mama!,* that's what yer thinkin'. There ain't
much I kin say in m' own defence 'ceptin' that life seems calculated t' make a
man ridic'lous. I s'pose I'm a fool an' a victim a' m' own doin'. The world's
full a' ridic'lous men that done themselves mischief a' one sort or another,
though. If there ain't a lot a' gen-u-ine motherfuckers 'round, at least I
don't gotta feel lonly on account a' bein' a fool.

Round 'bout a year an' two or three months after this all started, Mama got in
the way w' Sadie. She was mighty worked up 'bout it, an' she was cryin' an' all
when she tol' me. I asked her why she didn't take no pre-cautions. Come t' find
out, she thought, 'cause what we was doin' was unnat'ral, there warn't no way
she could get in trouble. Mama ain't stupid, but there ain't no accountin' fer
her ignorence sometimes. Like a jackass, I got mad an' tol' her she was gonna
have an addle-headed lil' gimpy on her hands an' I warn't gonna do nothin' t'
help her when it come. It took some doin' t' settle her down after that. Mama
warn't rightly satisfied 'til 'bout seven months later when she was able t'
count fer herself an' see that lil' Sadie had all her fingers an' toes. Even
t'day, I 'spect I still see Mama lookin' fer signs a' slowness in the child
from time t' time. Sadie's a good kid, though. She's a perty little girl, an'
she's took t' her letters real good -- fer a six-year-old, that is.

I ain't meanin' t' make out like we all lived happily-ever-after an' all that
namby-pamby bullshit. Things kinda changed some, when Sadie came. Mama didn't
lose the last a' her likin' fer m' cock or nothin' like that, but, with a baby
on the way an' then on the pap, it didn't seem right t' be fuckin' like rabbits
no more. An' once we was outa the habit neither a' us was livin' fer it no
more. Now, this bein' a fuck-story, ya'all prob'ly wonderin' if we still
fuckin'. Well, yes we is, an' fair often, too -- jes' like married folks. I'm
'fraid that's jes' how ever'thing's degenerated. We's jes' like married folks.

Things ain't always so easy with Mama. Fact is, the woman kin be a reg'lar pain
in the butt. I'm a young feller, an I's still gotta sow m' oats, an' that's a
thing that woman jes' don't understand. A young feller cain't be 'spected t'
fuck the same woman year in an' year out -- 'specially one so many years up on
him an' who ain't gettin' no younger. A young man needs his self some young
cooze now an then or he jes' kinda dries up inside. Even puttin' age aside, all
the fun jes' runs outa fuckin' if there ain't no novelty to it. A man needs
variety. So ever' now an' then, when I'm feelin' 'bout fit t' blow away, I
slips 'cross inta Charlotte County fer an evenin'. I gets m'self some drink,
then I usually go t' this cowboy bar I knows where I'm sure t' find m'self some
nice lil' round-tittied girl that's drunk a little jack herself. Now, I don't
'spect the old lady t' like it none, but I always come back the next day. Any
right-considerin' woman with a flea-spec a' consideration would have t' allow a
feller some 'lowance.

Well, Mama don't make no 'lowance at all. She's fine t' live with mosta the
time, but m' 'casional trips t' Marysville 'furiate her t' no end. She done
tol' me t' m' face a thousand times that I don't got no right t' fuck no body
but her. (What place a forty-two year old woman's got bein' so damn selfish
like that, I don't know.) She kin be God-A'Mighty jealous an' shrewish, workin'
herself up wi' the thought I'm gonna leave home fer good. She says I done raped
her 'gainst her will an' made her m' wife an' fixed her with a mongoloid chil'
(that's a lie, an' dreadful unfair t' Sadie who's 'comin' old 'nough t' get her
feelin's hurt by sech talk), an' she says it's m' duty t' stick by her side an'
take care a' her an' our poor chil' an' be faithful t' her bed. She don't
understand that I already 'bide by most a' that. It's jes' that I'm a man, an'
I gots t' get me pussy on the side ever' once in a while.

T'ain't the carpin' that's the worst trouble, though. It's the woman's temper
that gets the hair standin' on the back of a feller's neck. I never seen a
woman get so mad as she kin. We've had some real brawls over m' nights out -
- that's fer sure. She split m' head with a rock once. (The damned woman's a
dead aim inside fifty feet.) I had t' rush her an' lay her out more'n once jes'
t' save m'self a brainin'. The iron, the kettle, the rollin'-pin, dishes, an'
firewood -- Shit! if it ain't strapped down an' Mama kin heft it, she'll hurl
it at ya when she gets inta one a' her rages. An' all a' this is jes' her bein'
angry with *me*. If she was t' ever come 'pon some girlie she thought I'd spent
time with, I 'spect she'd cut her heart out with a spoon an' eat it.

I 'spose there is one thing t' say fer havin' a woman as hot tempered as mine,
though. When her tantrum's passed her over, she gets real lovin' an' greedy-
cunted, an' we have ourselves some real nice fuckin'. Sometimes it lasts a
couple a' days, dependin' on how high in her fury she got. Life's easy with her
then. I ain't wantin' t' go in t' Marysville when she's like that.

I guess folks 'round these parts spec'late plenty 'bout what goes on 'tween
Mama an' me, an' I 'spose they know perty well what it is. Don't know how they
got t' knowin', but I figger lil' Sadie's 'pearance musta started the cluckin'.
First I knew 'bout it was from this girl I'd jes' met in Marysville. Don't know
what it was I said, but she asked me, sudden curious-like, *You 'Zekiel Potts
from over in Lewis County?* I was nat'rally curious t' know where she'd a-heard
a' me. She colored up right away an' wouldn't say no more, 'ceptin' that folks
gossip some mean lies, after I rid her fer a long while. I'd thought I was
doin' perty good with her; but things kinda fuzzled after that, an' I didn't
get t' shag her. That was 'bout half a year after Sadie come.

Some months after that, I was in Tony's, after m' day's work, sippin' on a
beer, an' it was gittin' 'round time t' shove off. I tol' the fellers I was
leavin', that Mama 'ld be waitin' fer me 'bout now, an' Hank Cory, a big,
hairy, dumb-assed boob, let out with a loud an' nasty laugh. All the fellers
was lookin' kinda expectin'-like, the way they will when they know sumpthin'
good's gonna happen. Now Hank Cory ain't bright 'nough t' figger nothin' out on
his own, so's I knowed they had t' been talkin' 'bout me 'fore I'd come in. I
knowed they was gonna get their entertainment as sure if I scampered out as
they was if I laid inta that poor, dumb farmer. I warn't in the scamperin'
mood. I asked Hank Cory, real p'lite-like, what he meant by what come outa his
throat. He jes' stood there grinnin', lookin' 'round t' all the other fellers,
like he was waitin' t' get scratched b'hind the ears or sumpthin'. His tail
started t' droop some when he didn't get no 'couragement from the others, an' I
asked him m' question again. *Hell Zeke! You know what I meant,* he says. *I
ain't sure as I do know what ya meant, Hank,* I says back to him. *I think ya
should speak it right out so's there ain't no misunderstandin'.* I was shamin'
him; an' he got kinda blustery on account a' his bein' so mech bigger 'n I am,
an' he tol' me I was a motherfucker. That was what I was waitin' fer, an',
right off, quick as I could, I broke a bottle 'tween his eyes.

The judge, he only give me sixty days on account a' I'd never been brought up
'fore him b'fore an' on account a' I was sorely provoked an' Hank Cory didn't
lose his eyes. I was a sight relieved 'bout Hank. He warn't a bad sort, an'
back then he was s'portin' his lil' brother an' sister workin' that bottoms
spread a' his by his self. Two months ain't so long. When I got out I even had
m' job still waitin'. Mr. Leary said he'd heard what'd been said t' me, an',
while he didn't go approvin' violence, he didn't figger a young man could hold
his head up 'gainst sech a loathsome charge if he didn't take rightful
measures. The first thing I done the day I got out, was t' go back inta Tony's.
The fellers welcomed me back. Some of 'em was right friendly; some was kinda
sullen 'bout it. I couldn't stop 'em from thinkin' what they would, but I let
each of 'em know he'd better bring a gun if he wanted t' say any shit 'bout it.

Mama took m' troubles perty hard, an' fer that I was sorry. I never tol' her
what started the ruckus, but she prob'ly guessed it. She'd never had many
friends (m' ol' man bein' sech a son-of-a-bitch an' all), but she was always
kind an' gracious-like t' the folks 'round here. She'd always held her head up
-- not that she don't now -- but she was never 'fraid t' face folks, even when
she had the ol' man's bruises on her. 'Bout the time I went t' jail, though,
she kinda started 'voidin' people when'ere she could. I asked her once, does
she think folks knows 'bout us. She say she don't reckon how they could an'
acts like it don't bother her much. I'spect sometimes it do, though. Her
people, where she come from near Jackson, warn't much 'neath quality, an' she
kin be a prideful woman an' sometimes got her pretensions.

I sometimes wonder what things 'ld be like if I hain't b'come a motherfucker.
I've 'bout 'cided that it warn't the fuckin' so much as how ever'thing changed
'tween us later when the last a' the shame wore off. (Shame's a funny thing:
When I 'member back how much fun t'was when we was first fuckin', I'd have t'
say the shame warn't no inconsiderable part of it. If I was t' bust it out inta
three easy pieces, I'd claim it t' be hornyness, fondness, an' shame that made
it so compellin'.) When the shame wore off, much a' the 'citement went with it.
I s'pose what cleaves me to her is m' fondness fer the woman. I could satisfy
m' lustin' 'pon any creature with a cunt 'tween her legs. Mama an' me done it
'nough times you'd think I'd a' been tired of her by now. Cain't say I really
burn fer her most a' the time no more. But ya know what the ol' folks calls it
-- they says *comfort* when they mean *fuck*. Well, that's how it is with Mama;
she comforts me. Lor' knows she ain't so comfortin' *all* a' the time, but I
never been tempted t' toss her over fer no one else. Ya know, even when she get
kinda hot-assed an' I get kinda fired up m'self an' we have ourselves a real
good time, there's still sumpthin' 'bout her that soothes me. May be, I'm jes'
used to her.

Now there's 'nother thought... I'm woderin' if m' fondness 'll be 'nough in
'bout ten years when her bush be sprouted out with the gray hairs an' her ass
startin' t' sag t' the floor. Cain't 'magine I'll be wantin' t' fuck her
'ceptin' in the dark when that come t' pass. By then I s'pose I'll be thankin'
m' blessin's she's a tittieless woman.

Well, no matter! Mama 'll prob'ly murder me fer m' philanderin' 'fore then.

                           *Here lies 'Zekiel Pots*
                                  *1970-199?*
                                 *Lovin' Son*
                               *Lovin' Brother*
                     *Got His Head Stove In By A Hot Iron*
               *Fer Storin' His Pecker In The Wrong Recepticle*
                                  *R. I. P.*

Bazarov,
1995.

This story is part of White_Shadow's_Nasty_Stories.
You may also want to visit:
    * Erotic_Top_100_Story_Sites
    * Sexy_Top_100_Stories