Chapter One

My Dad made mistakes the twelvemonth I was 18. He was a lieutenant sheriff in Oklahoma metropolis. He was busted for dealing pound sterling of glass, and given thirty-five years. Because he was a lawman, he was put in solitary travail. Putting ex-lawmen in solitary confinement is a canny way of letting the general prison population know they're cops. I was just finishing the draftsmanship I was going to station him for my 19 Yule, when I found out he had beaten himself up and then hung himself in his cellphone at the prison house at Lexington.

Mom made some error, too, but hers were Thomas More innocent…at least at first. After Dad beat himself to death, Mom grieved for about a year, about the appropriate prison term for a wife-beater who was wired all the time. Then she started dressing more attractively. She also started taking the step to and from the third-floor law place where she was a legal secretary. She had some superfluous weight to take off if she hoped to rule a hubby who wouldn't take off, she said. When she fell down the steps and broke her arm in seventeen places, her job as well as her motive to practise ceased.

Mom had no choice. She was alone in Oklahoma urban center without a husband or a job. She also had a hungry, growing teenaged son. She packed our belongings in the back of her Ford Country Squire place Dipper and tug us the one hundred and twenty dollar bill miles from OKC to Hanging Tree, Oklahoma–the strangest smalltown in the world.

Hanging Tree was named after a dangling Tree that still stood–after two hundred proud years of evil–in the K of the courthouse foursquare in the center of the tiny town. The tree had been used for hanging in the previous century first by the"civilized"indigene Americans then by the"cultured"European invader. Ropes tied to its strongest and most accessible limb had ended one C of lives over the yr. I thought the Ithiel Town was going to end my sprightliness without the courtesy of a noose.

Mom moved us in with her widow mother in a White weatherboarding house at the southskirts of suspension Tree. From the moment we moved in, there was hassle. problem was named Sir Henry Morton Stanley. Stanley was my cousin, but he wasn't proud of that fact. To him, my male parent's ignominy was mine and my mother's as well. He was a thick-skulled, ex-Marine, 18 years previous than I was, but he became my personal daimon. He didn't like the melodic theme that Mom and I were living with his grannie, increasing her burden in her golden days. He loved his gran. He respected his grannie like any upright armed services man. When he came over and threatened to kill me if I didn't leave, I told him to go have it off himself, so he decided to transfer tactics. That's why he told nanna Russell that I'd been having sex with my mother since Dad went to prison. It was his way of gently motivating his beloved granny to do the mighty thing and kick us out.

I had just walked into the K at gran's menage. I'd been across town at a friend's house smoking pot. I loved the way pot made me finger, and the fact that it was illegal only made me feel closer to my perfectly Dad. Grandma was out in the yard, hanging washing on the dress line. They liked hanging thing in Hanging Tree. I had no idea my grandmother was waiting to pay heed me up for the rest of my life.

As I walked into the yard, Grandma Henry Norris Russell said,"Micheal, get along here ! I want to talk to you !"

She sounded serious, so I stopped in the G and said,"What you want, nanna ?"

She walked her bony, wrinkled ass, working her elbows for propulsion, and came quickly across the yard to where I stood by the gate. When she got two feet from me, she stopped, put one helping hand on a hip, and shook the index finger of her former hand in my boldness. Taken aback, I said,"What's the quite a little, Grandma ?"

"Micheal Henry Russell, have you been having sex with your female parent ?"The digit in my face wagged out each Logos."Stanley was over here this morn and said you've been doing it with your female parent ever since your male parent went to prison and died ! If you have, you had just better profess your sin so I can pray for you !"

I looked at her. I started to talk, but words wouldn't come. I was shocked beyond tears or self-defence. From my 18-year-old viewpoint, I was living through a hell on Earth. My Father-God had been disgraced, imprisoned, and killed. My mother had disabled herself, and we'd had to be active from Oklahoma City to a scab like hanging Tree. I had been getting one or two pimples that made me self-conscious. We had no money, I had no friends, and now my grandmother was accusing me of fucking my mother !

"No, Grandma ! No ! christ !"

"Don't you use the name of the Savior in vain, untested man. You're in enough worry with Heaven for having fleshly noesis of your own sweet mother and her with one bad arm !"

"But I didn't ! I didn't have sex with Mom ! grandmother ! Stanley's lying ! Why are you so quick to believe something like that just because my barf cousin Stanley says it's so ?"

She looked at me with hidden disappointment dawning as she realized that it probably wasn't true. She had been ready for a fight against the daimon for my psyche and Momma's pussy. Now that she began to think I was telling the truth ( and at the sentence I was ), she became embarrassed. But it was a strange embarrassment.

Instead of acting as if she were embarrassed about what she had said, she acted as if she were naked in social movement of me. When a woman is simply apologizing for being irrational, she doesn't screening her drape breasts with her arm, or splay her hand over her robe pussy. I was Danton True Young, but I read a lot. I knew the polarity, and there was no mistaking the flavour in Grandma's eyes. She was as turned on as a cat in heat.

She took the hand that had symbolically hidden her pussy and put it on my arm. She smiled at me and laid her head against my shoulder. I couldn't believe what seemed to be happening. Then she removed any question. Putting her early hired man on the bulge in the front of my jeans, my grandmother said,"Since your granddad died, it seems like my old pussy does all my thinking for me."

The longer Grandma massaged my dick through my denim, the more forgiving I became."Your Mom is going to be in Tulsa till late tonight. Let's go in the house,"she said. I was easily led.

We went to her bedroom. She sat on the bed and pulled me shut down to her. With a wicked gleam saltation in her old eyes, granny unwrap my belt and fly, took out my rock-hard eight inches ( the only thing Dad left me ), and plunk for it like a big-mouthed bass for a spinner. I'd never experienced the same before, but nan had. She knew just what to do, grabbing my ass, twirling the tip of her tongue around the head of my dick as it bobbed in and out of her mouth. In what seemed like moments, I was holding the spinal column of Grandma's head with both hands and squirting cum into her throat. She moaned as she sucked. My question was reeling from the orgasm and from the thought of what I was doing.

When she'd sucked me dry, she sat back, wiped her mouth, smiled at me and said,"Now…you may not be fucking your mother, but you can get it on your old nanna's pussy if you want."She pulled her feet up on the bed, pulled up the hem of her wearing apparel, spread her legs, and scooted her hip joint forward on the bed. I reached down and grabbed her panties and pulled them down her boney second joint and off over her tiny substructure. She reached down and spread her inner lips. My dick got hard again.

I kneeled on the bed and positioned myself between her thighs. Grandma reached in the front of her dress and pulled out a tenacious, hard-nippled breast. Then she reached between my peg and grabbed my cock."Oh, God forgive me ! Eden knows I need this !"Then she put the head of my dick between her moist back talk. She threw her weapon around my lower back and slammed me into her sixty-year-old snatch. It was warmly, and soft, and I was hooked.

In the limited day to day evaluation of a teenage boy, I became quite fond of life in Hanging Tree. I went to school where I was a slightly shy new kid with few friends, but when I came home I had mess of opportunities to alleviate the day's emphasis. Every time Mom was out of the house, I'd fuck Grandma like we were newlyweds. I had her all over the sign of the zodiac. She made me like the forbidden aspect of our lovemaking by being up front with her wickedness. Sometimes I'd worry about masses coming to the door, because when I was sliding my big dick in and out of Grandma's soaker, fade bitch, she'd vociferation things like,"That's it. That's it, son ! roll in the hay Grandma's puss severely ! Oh, you grandmotherfucker !"

Mom never let on that she knew. I found out that Grandma had told her soon after it began, but Mom played dumb. Then on the night of July 4th, 1979, Mom and Grandma started getting ready to go somewhere. I came in the menage and went to the refrigerator to get a Dr. pepper. I noticed them getting quick and asked where they were going.

"You're going too,"grannie said."Go get cleaned up some."

"Where am I going ?"I asked Mom who came into the kitchen, asking me to zip her up. ( Her rightfield arm was still washy from the capitulation. )

"We're going to a extra Bible study,"Mom said, smiling over her shoulder joint at me after I pulled the zipper to her neckline.

"Ah, Mom. I don't want to go to church."We didn't make it a riding habit of going to church. Dad had been a unbeliever, and Mom hadn't made a big thing of her belief if she had any. I had come to the conclusion that God was a news report like Santa Claus that they told you to convince you to be good.

With Mom standing right in presence of me, smiling at me and working to put her earring on, Grandma walked right up to me and grabbed my bulge. She'd never done anything like that in forepart of Mom before. I looked at Mom's grimace, expecting surprise, and saw only that kindly sluttish she always shined at her only small fry. Grandma said,"You'll like this Holy Writ study, you hard-dicked sweetheart. Now go get ready !"She gave my bump a squeeze that made me see star. I went to ransack my hair.

It was indeed a"especial"Bible written report, but I wondered then, and I still wonder, how unique it was. Christianity, in its more fundamentalist var., is a repressive disease that starves its practioners for sex. If there were no Christendom, there would be a hundred times lupus erythematosus perversion. Christianity forces the great unwashed to deny their sexuality until it bursts forth in slightly wrestle eruptions. I wondered how many churches across the nation has exceptional group meeting that only the more sensual Biblethumpers attended.

The Bible study was held at a house in the country. When we pulled up about sunset, there were six cars parked carelessly around the circular drive at the nominal head of the expensive home. Grandma parked the station patrol wagon, and we went inside.

A beautiful blonde daughter of about 12 geezerhood met us at the front door and escorted us to a large intimate way. There were eleven citizenry in the way. Our routine would bring the aggregate to a multiple of seven. I learned that this was thought to be important. The young blond introduced us to the assemblage by happily proclaiming,"The seventh family is here ! Here they are ! The 7th family is here."

The room was furnished with panache. The rampart were covered with bright synopsis paintings and the leaves of potted plants set all around its perimeter. The open square of the center of the room was bordered by long, plush, Edward White sofa. We sat in one nook of the fence of lounge, and a tall, slim down, dreary man in a black line suit stood and began addressing the congregating :

"If you have known dear, you have known God,"said the deacon.

"If you have known Love, you have known God,"we all repeated.

The deacon strolled slowly around the inner lame, smiling at each, acknowledging each, as he spoke :

"This is a swell occasion for us today. Last month we lost three of our members who moved to Los Angeles. We have done well, but there is only so much we can do if we lack the holy Numbers. Now we have seven phratry represented by fourteen people. Our prayers will be mighty tonight, praise God."

"kudos God,"the congregation echoed.

"I am called The deacon. No one here uses their casual epithet. This is a peculiar meeting of genuine believers in God's grace of God. We believe, as did the initiative one C Christians, that zero is legal injury as long as it hurts no one and is done in true beloved. Our freedom, eroded by centuries of dogma, is the impropriety of the Law of Love.

"We all go to regular Fundamentalist churches because Fundamentalism is about all there is in Oklahoma. But this is our true plaza of worship. Here we thank God for the gift of our bodies. Here we live as we were created to be in unblushing Eden."

At that, everyone stood. I'd only been to church once or twice in my spirit, but I remembered they were big about everybody doing everything together, standing together, sitting together, singing together. I stood. Then everyone started taking their clothes off. It was hushed, unhurried, almost reverent. Not until I saw Mom and Grandma, to my right wing and my left field, disrobing did I come out of my astonishment enough to do likewise.

When everyone was naked, the Protestant deacon took a seat on the couch. Then the women, all the charwoman, stood and paraded in the substance square. At first they said nothing, just walked around, every chassis and sizing of woman, every age from the twelve-year-old blond to my sixtyish grandmother. I couldn't take my eye off my beautiful, big-boobed, brunette-bushed Mom. Since I had been wrongly accused of fucking her, fucking her was all I could believe about. The mind is mirthful that way.

Then, at a nod from the deacon, the women stood together in a cluster, raised their prayerful hands to their rim, bowed their heads, and began chanting a Word verse over and over–

"give to every man who asks of you, and from him who would borrow of you, turn not away.

"Give to every man who asks of you, and from him who would borrow of you, turn not away…"

Besides the Deacon, there were two other males in the room, a fat man with a grey beard and a skinny redheaded guy a few old age older than me. They were all masturbating their cocks to get them hard. I didn't have to.

The cleaning woman stopped chanting their Bible verses. Then Mom walked over to me, her big tit swinging, still firm. She held her bad arm under her white meat. She got on her articulatio genus in front end of me and said,"Be careful of my arm, darling."Then she bowed her fountainhead again and took the head of my hawkshaw in her mouth.

I was ecstatic. nil had ever felt as good. Looking down incredulously, I saw her beautiful hazel eyes smiling at me merrily as she sucked my big, thick tool into her pretty mouth. I began to rock my pelvic girdle up and down, fucking her oral cavity. Her good hand crept up my thigh and squeezed my balls.

"Oh, fuck this,"I said. I got up and set her where I'd been sitting. She was more beautiful to me, sitting there with her legs pulled back, smiling at her son about to get laid her, than anything I'd seen before or have seen since. I grabbed my throbbing dick in my mighty mitt. I was going to do it my female parent ! I was going to be a motherfucker just like I'd been accused of being. I was about as far from being ashamed of it as I could be. I felt like the favorable guy in the world.

I could palpate the case-by-case pilus of my mother's hot bitch touching the head of my peter as I guided it between her fat, olive-pink pussylips. When I stuck the forefront in her fix, Mom cooed,"Oh, yes ! pin that big, beautiful putz in mamma's hot, haired pussy. Oh, Micheal ! Stick it in and bed me. I've wanted this for so long."

I shoved my dick up in my mother as far as I could. Her heat and sweet creaminess was all the more delightful because it was forbid. I was fucking my pricey honeyed mother, had my dick in her pussy, and I wanted to stay there for the rest of my life. Pumping my gumshoe back and forth, in and out of Mom's soft, wet twat, I heard the sucking sound that's a soundtrack to sex. The sound itself turned me on even more. I looked down and see Mom's cuntlips cling to my dick. Her breathing was becoming quicker and uneven. I reached down and began sucking her rose-brown nipple while my hips continued driving my truck up her tunnel.

I was sucking and fucking Mom enthusiastically, when I felt her start to spasm. She began moaning my name faster and faster, throwing her pussy up to meet my jabbing cock. Then she almost screamed,"Oh, God is making love ! Micheal, fuck Mommy's twat. Oh, fuck ma's wet hairy hole ! I'm cumming ! I'm CUMMMING ! !"

Pulling my mouth roughly off her tit, I straightened up and began kissing Mom's mouth like we were horny kids in the backseat of a car. I pounded my peter in her cunt and French kissed her through her orgasm. When she was spent, I kept fucking her slowly. Her eyes looked into mine and widened. I smiled at her, kissed her mouth briefly, and then, punctuating every word with a thrust of my prick into her honeypot, I said,"Mom, I hope you like what you started, because you're mine now. I'm going to know you like you were my girlfriend from now on. Say it. Say this pussy is mine."

She put her paw on my biceps and wiggled her pussy from side to side as I slammed into it."Oh, yes, darling. Mom's yours now. Your Daddy's gone, and you're going to fill more than his shoes."She laughed and then pulled herself up to my sweating physical structure and began slapping her sopping twat up to contact the rhythm of my pecker."Anytime you want to adopt a little of your Momma's hot slit, all you have to do is ask, sweetheart. All you have to do is ask."

Still fucking, but feeling my own coming rising, I laughed and said,"Why do I have to ask ?"

When I asked the question, Mom had been sucking on my right mammilla. She pulled her aspect back and began running her finger's breadth through my sweaty chest hair as my shot in her steaming twat got faster and faster."Because that's the Law of Love,"she said. Just as I started shooting a huge loading of cum up her gleefully incestuous cunt, Mom began chanting :

"spring to every man who asks of you, and from him who would borrow of you, ferment not away. Give to every man who asks of you, and from him who would take over of you, change by reversal not away. Give to every man who asks of you, and from him who would take over of you, deform not away. ”