Caution: This Drama Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, Romantic, Cheating, First, .
Desc: Drama Sex Story: Chapter 1 - The song paralleled my life. Would I be able to climb all the mountains ahead.
I was sitting there in the restaurant in the quaint small town where I used to live. They had one of those tabletop jukeboxes and I was looking through the song titles. I remembered how so many songs seemed to be a pathway for me. I slipped in a few coins and pushed the buttons.
The song started to play and I could hear Marty Robbins singing a song that sounded like it was about my life. At least it paralleled my life. It was, 'Lord, You Gave Me A Mountain.' I sat back in the chair and began to reminisce as the song started.
Born in the heat of the desert. My mother died giving me life. Deprived of the love of a father. Blamed for the loss of his wife.
Yep! That's how my life began. My parents were from the Midwest. It could have been any country town USA. My dad worked the farm for his dad. Farming was all my grandparents knew. My mom and dad grew up in the same area. They were out of high school and in love. According to my grandparents, they lived in a trailer out back next to the barn. They didn't care much about material things as long as they had each other.
They were John and Martha Evans. My mom became pregnant with me. She had my name all picked out. I was to be Joshua John Evans. I was told she went through hell with morning sickness and then was bed ridden through most of the pregnancy. My dad was worried about her. She was his life and she was having a very hard time carrying me. My grandma said something went wrong in her eighth month and she was rushed to the hospital.
They were able to save me but my mother didn't make it. She died while giving me life. I was left in the hospital for a few extra days due to being born early. My dad wanted nothing to do with me. As in the song, he blamed me for his wife's death. My grandparents on my dad's side raised me. I don't think I was overly loved.
My mom's parents hated my dad and, basically, disowned my mother when she married my father. After her death, they blamed dad seeing he got her pregnant. Of course, that brought it back to me. As far as I know, they never came to see me.
When I was young, all I can recall is working on the farm. I did live in the house and my dad still lived in the trailer out back alone. I can't ever remember any love for me from him. My grandma was probably the only one that I can remember showing any love toward me at all. Unfortunately, my grandfather always told her to stop coddling me.
As I got older, I remember getting up early, feeding the animals and going to school. I was a troublesome student. I didn't get along very well with anyone. In grade school, I found out other kids talked about me and it really hurt. I was told by some bullies that I killed my mother. I didn't take it and, of course, like always I'd end up in fights.
I'd then go home and get it from my granddad for fighting. No one ever cared what I had to say. I didn't have the material things the other kids had. I basically worked the farm and read books. I guess I was considered a real loner.
My teen years weren't much better. Farm work and school were my life. My dad had even moved away to the big city. He wanted nothing to do with me. I think I was about ten when he left. I remember him arguing with grandpa one night. I don't think they knew I was listening.
"What about your fucking kid?" I heard grandpa say.
"I don't want anything to do with him," said dad. "He killed my Martha. I'm just getting the hell away from this farm and that boy. I don't ever want to see him again."
I remember crying. How was I responsible for the death of my mom? I never even got to know her. I had often wondered what she was like and if she would have liked me. I think I sat there crying for the longest time.
I remember hearing my dad tell my grandpa, "If you don't want him, turn him over to the state." That's when I heard my grandma walk in.
"What? You'll do no such thing, Harold," said my grandma. "If you send Josh away, I promise you, I'll leave too. That poor boy didn't ask to be born."
It was the only time I every heard my grandma talk back to my grandfather. Bottom line is I stayed and worked the farm. I also felt just a little closer to my grandma after that day.
Life at school didn't get any better. When word got around about my dad leaving me, the stories began to fly again. It's funny that whenever I was picked on it was at least three against one. Whenever I got any of them on a one-on-one basis, I usually won the altercation.
I had a few friends. They were kind of the outsiders which every school has a few. That is all except Sherry. We were in grade school together and then high school. We would meet over at the pond and just talk. She knew just about everything about me. She was like my only real friend. One day we were at the pond and talking when I leaned over and kissed her. It was more of a peck but it was the first time I had ever kissed anyone. To me it was great.
Unfortunately, her little brother witnessed it and told their parents. Sherry was forbidden to ever see me. Her parents told her that I was trash and came from trash. I cried. "God, why do I have all these mountains to climb? What did I ever do that was so bad?"
This time, lord, you gave me a mountain. A mountain that I may never climb. It isn't a hill any longer. You gave me a mountain this time.
I turned sixteen. I still met Sherry from time to time on the sly, hoping we would never be caught. We never did anything but kiss, but I really liked her a lot.
One day after school I noticed one of the bullies had Sherry cornered and was trying to kiss her. I could hear her telling him to stop, but he wouldn't.
I went up to him and let him have it. I beat him to a miserable pulp. I didn't care anymore. He deserved it and I was dishing it out. I could hear Sherry yelling for me to stop but I wasn't listening. I had all this hatred and was taking it out on this asshole.
It took three teachers to pull me off of Buck. He was taken to the hospital and I was taken to juvenile jail where I would spend the next two years of my life. The last thing I remember was Sherry crying into her hands and Buck being taken out on a stretcher.
I remember the judge telling me that he wished he could lock guys me up for good and throw away the key. He said I was nothing but a burden to society. I guess that I was lucky - I was a juvenile and they would be letting me out when I turned eighteen.
I didn't learn much in jail. I spent most of my time showing how bad I was. Deep inside, I really wasn't that bad; I hurt more than anything else. It's just that my life sucked so bad that I wanted to get even with the world.
When I got out, I called my granddad. He told me that he didn't want anything to do with me. I asked to talk with grandma and he told me no, that she had nothing to say to me. I knew it was probably a lie and decided to just forget about them.
For the next couple of years, I was kind of a bum doing odd jobs. I went from state to state looking for work. One day I went by this feed store and asked if they needed any workers. I was told by the manager that he didn't have any work but that there was a middle aged couple needing help on their farm, and that I might check there.
I knocked on the door and an older woman came to the door. She must have been in her fifties. I asked her if she needed any farm work done and she told me that was her husband's department. I could find him out at the barn.
I headed out to the barn and saw a man feeding his horses. "Excuse me, sir. I'm looking for any kind of farm work; would you have any work available?"
"What's your name, son?"
"Josh, Josh Evans, sir."
"What do you know about farming?" he asked.
"I've been around farming all my life, sir. My grandparents owned a farm in Idaho. I worked for them most of my life."
"Why don't you work for them now?" he asked as he stared at my eyes.
I looked down and figured I would tell him the truth, even though I'd figure he wouldn't hire me.
"I was incarcerated for fighting, sir. I was in jail for two years and my grandparents didn't want me back. I'm a good worker. Just give me a chance to prove it," I pleaded.
"Do you need a place to stay as well?" he asked.
"It would be nice but I'll find a place in town if necessary," I replied.
He stared at me for what seemed the longest time. I figured he was wondering whether to take a chance on me. "How old are you, son?" he asked.
"I just turned twenty-one, sir," I replied.
"Well, Josh, I'm Floyd Patterson and the woman you met is my wife Betty. We have a pretty good size spread here and could use another hand. I have five men who work for me now. There's a bunkhouse you can stay in out back. There are two other men who stay there. The other men have families and have their own homes. We'll try you out for a month and see how you do.
"There's a stove and fridge in the bunkhouse. Most of the time the men eat at the restaurant but you're welcome to use the facilities. We'll knock off twenty-five bucks a week out of your check for the bunkhouse living."
I thanked him and told him he wouldn't be disappointed. I really wanted to make this work. I began work the next morning. Pete was the foreman who gave us our work orders for the day. The work was easier than when I worked for my granddad. The Patterson's had all the latest equipment and were very nice to work for. They even supplied lunch for us. I felt like I was finally part of something.
I got along pretty good with the other guys. Three were married and the other two were single like me. We would usually go into town and have dinner at the local diner. The cooking wasn't as good as Mrs. Patterson's but it was better than anything I'd cook up. Sometimes I'd buy some luncheon meat and make a few sandwiches.
On the weekend I'd go into town. Joe and Fred both had trucks so I didn't need a vehicle, at least for now. I easily made it through my trial period and everything was fine. I worked hard and even worked longer hours whenever Pete asked me to. I wanted to make a good impression. This was as good as I'd had it for as long as I could remember.
I started spending my weekends in town. I would hang out at the Red Robin. It's where I met Cindy Lou. She was sort of the bartender waitress in the place. Pete and Joe both warned me about Cindy. They said she was kind of a wild one.
She began flirting with me. I would stay later and help her close up and she would drive me back to the bunkhouse. She had a trailer of her own in walking distance of the bar. One night instead of driving me back to the bunkhouse, she drove to her place. Needless to say, we made love.
I know this is hard to believe but it was my first time with a woman. God, was she ever something else. She stripped and pulled off my trousers, and climbed up and lowered herself onto my shaft. I couldn't believe how good it felt. She was squealing and squalling, moving her ass all over the place. I couldn't help it as I shot my first load into a woman. It was great!
It was just a matter of minutes when she let me get on top, and I made love to her again. She was so hot. I lasted a lot longer the second time. After that, we rested and had a couple of beers before going again. Thank God, the next day was Sunday. Other than feeding the animals, we didn't have to work all day in the fields.
When Pete saw me the next morning he laughed. It didn't take much to figure out that I got laid. Being honest here, I have masturbated for years but being with a woman and making love was awesome. There was no comparison.
I ended up going to see Cindy at least twice during the week and every weekend. I couldn't get enough of her. I figured I was in love.
It was about two months later when Cindy told me she was pregnant. She told me after one of our love sessions. I told her it would be fine. We would get married and we would start out at her trailer. I had saved up some money and after the baby was born, we could maybe look for another place.
Mr. and Mrs. Patterson had given me a permanent job and a small increase in pay. Pete, Joe and Fred didn't seem too happy when I told them that Cindy and I were going to get married.
I was sitting listening to the jukebox and playing the song over and over again. I kept thinking back about my time with Cindy and realized I never really loved her. She was just my first piece of ass. I wanted to be loved so bad that I got married to the first woman I was with.
After slipping some more coins into the jukebox, I thought some more about my past. I kept playing, 'You Gave Me A Mountain' over and over.
My woman got tired of the heartaches. Tired of the grief and the strife. So tired of working for nothing. Just tired of being my wife.
We were married within a few months. At first, life seemed pretty good. Cindy kept her job at the bar and worked up till it was time to deliver the baby. We had a little baby boy. I was there for the delivery. There couldn't have been a more proud papa. Cindy wanted to name him Jerrold; I wanted Joshua Jr. Cindy won out. I didn't care that much. Now I had a real part of me in this world. I'd never leave or forsake him like my dad did to me.
Over the next few months, Cindy was getting stressed out. She said she had to do everything. Take care of the baby. Work and help support us, and that I wasn't making enough. She didn't have time for fun and spent all her extra time at home with the baby and me.
I didn't understand her. I gave her my paycheck other than a few dollars I held back for myself for spending money. I didn't go out with the guys anymore. I came home to be with my wife and baby every night. I honestly couldn't understand what she wanted. She even went out at night at least twice a week with her girlfriends while I watched Jerrold. I didn't mind watching my son; it was Cindy that I couldn't understand.
We went on like this for at least six months. I worked the farm, hard, all day. I worked any extra hours I could to bring in some extra money. I came home and watched my son. That was pretty much my life. Since the birth of Jerrold, we hardly ever made love. Cindy always told me she was too tired from working all day. Then it happened on a fateful Saturday afternoon.
She took my one ray of sunshine. She took my pride and my joy. She took my reason for living. She took my small baby boy.
I was working all the extra overtime I could for the money. On Saturday, I usually worked late since the single guys had dates. I was trying to earn money for my family. Pete came up to me around noon and said the combine broke down and needed to be repaired so I could go on home.
I got to our trailer and saw a car I didn't recognize in front of our trailer. I didn't pay a lot of mind to it because Cindy had a lot of girlfriends. As I walked into the trailer, there was Jerrold in the living room in for his nap. I heard sounds coming from the bedroom. I walked in and there was my wife with only her dress on with no under panties.
She had her legs spread with this man pumping his cock deep inside of her. She screamed when she saw me. It only took me a second to grab the bastard, throw him on the floor and start beating him to a pulp.
"Josh, don't! Stop please! I love him," cried Cindy.
Hearing that made me only hit him harder. He tried to fight back but wasn't doing a very good job as I kicked and hit him some more. My hands were covered with blood. I had no idea if any of it was mine.
"You motherfucker," I screamed. "You come in my house and fuck my wife with my little boy not twenty feet away."
Cindy screamed more. "Josh, Stop! He's Jerrold's father. Please don't hit him again."
I stopped, I froze. Did I hear her right? Did she say that Jerrold wasn't mine and that this piece of shit was his father?
Cindy froze on the bed. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. Jerrold was my old boyfriend and left after an argument. I was pregnant and scared. I didn't mean to hurt you."
I couldn't help it but I reached up and backhanded her across the face and knocked her sorry ass clear off the bed. Hearing all the screaming, our neighbors called the police. When they arrived, they saw the bloody body of my wife's boyfriend and the side of my wife's face swelling up. In the crib was a crying Jerrold.
I was cuffed and arrested. One of the neighbor women took baby Jerrold to her house while Cindy and her boyfriend were whisked off to the hospital.
I called Mr. and Mrs. Patterson from the jail and told them that I was sorry. They were like parents to me but I didn't want them wasting any money on me and posting bond. There was no question in my mind that I was going to prison.
You know, lord, I've been in a prison. For something that I never done. It's been one hill after another. But, I've climbed them all one by one.
But this time, lord, you gave me a mountain. A mountain you know I may never climb. It isn't just a hill any longer. You gave me a mountain this time.
I spent the next few months in jail awaiting trial. During this time, I had a DNA done and little Jerrold wasn't mine. My lawyer found out that Cindy dated me just to get Jerrold mad. He was playing around on her. I guess the two of them deserved each other.
The hardest thing for me was giving up little Jerrold. He was my son, my little man and now I find out he was never mine to begin with. I knew I would miss him more than life itself. Thinking back on the few months he was my son, I was the happiest. I did worry about his future with parents as bad as his.
At the trial, Cindy made me out the bad guy. I guess in a sense I was. I was charged with assault on Cindy and attempted murder on her boyfriend Jerrold. Geez! No wonder she wanted to name our son Jerrold. The jury upheld the charge of assault on Cindy. She showed a picture of her face after I backhanded her; me smiling when I saw it didn't help my case much. I must have really hit her hard.
The attempted murder charge was reduced to assault with intent to maim. My lawyer explained that I walked in on them having sex. I used no weapons other than my hands and feet. Of course, we were divorced shortly after and I left with nothing. My lawyer was able to get some of his money from our little bit of savings.
That part in the song that said I went to jail for something I never done wasn't exactly the truth. I did it and if I had to do it all over again I would have hit them both more. I disagree with hitting a woman, I really do. Cindy was no woman. She was a bitch who used me, gave me promises of a family, and then took it all away. I laid in my cell nightly thinking that I could have been a daddy. Now I wasn't much better then my own father.
I was in prison for five years. For the first year, I lay around and felt sorry for myself. One day one of these groups that wanted to help prisoners came in. This guy talked to me and told me that he read my file and knew I had a pretty rough life. He told me I was still young enough to change and lead a better life. I would be out in five years and I could either waste these years and probably be back in, or do something about it and learn from my mistakes.
The first couple of times I kind of chased him away. While lying in my cell I thought about our discussions and decided to give it a try. I was put in the rehabilitation program. I asked about schooling and was enrolled in classes to get my GED. (It's equivalent to a diploma). I was surprised how easy the learning came to me. Maybe it was because now that I was an adult and wanted to learn, that made it much easier for me.
After receiving my GED, I wrote to my grandparents whom I hadn't spoken to in years. I explained that I received my GED and decided to study farming. I never realized it before but after working for the Pattersons, I really liked farming.
I now had the thought that maybe someday after getting out of prison that I could start saving up to have my own little farm. I loved working the ground and watching things grow. I loved animals; they were something that needed me. The day-to-day feedings and I guess like Dr. Doolittle, I talked to the animals. Unlike the good doctor, they never talked back to me.
I was now planning for my future. It did make prison life go by much faster and a bit easier. I always remembered how people would say, "There's a man outstanding in his field." It made me think differently than most.
Now, when they looked out in the field, they would see me. Joshua John Evans, tending to his crops. That was my new goal in life.
I had two months to go before my parole hearing. My lawyer explained that I needed a place to stay and a job to go to if we were to be granted a release. I was a little worried. My record in prison was pretty clean and the parole board would be able to see that I was really trying.
I said to myself, "God, please no more mountains. I don't think I could climb another one."
I couldn't believe it the next day when I received a letter back from my grandmother. I was almost afraid to open it. She wished me well and said my lawyer's people had been out to see them. She said my grandfather's health was somewhat failing and she had something she had to tell me. She asked me to call her and that she would accept the charge.
I called the next day. It was so nice to here her voice. "Grandma, why is it you needed me to call."
"Josh, your father was killed in a truck accident in Kansas last month. I know you two weren't close but he listed you as his beneficiary on his insurance. The insurance company sent you a check to our house and we deposited it for you in a savings account in your name. When you get out you can come and get it."
"Grandma, why me? Why did he leave it to me?" I asked.
"I don't know. Maybe in someway he really loved you but couldn't face life with the hurt of Martha's death. Anyway, I wanted you to know it's here for you."
"Grandma, how's grandpa and the farm doing?"
"Not so well lately. Grandpa had a minor stroke and we had to hire someone to help with the farm. We're thinking of selling it."
"No, Grandma! Don't sell it. I've been studying farming and if you and grandpa let me come back, I can work it for you. Please talk to grandpa."
My grandmother said to call her again in a few days to give her a chance to talk to grandpa. God, I hoped they would let me come back. Just maybe things would change for me.
It occurred to me that grandma never mentioned how much insurance money my dad left for me. At the time, it really wasn't important to me. I wondered if it would be enough to help me get on my feet if I got paroled.
When I called Grandma back a few days later, she said that she and grandpa would be at my parole hearing. She told me grandpa agreed that I could come back, and help work the farm. He just hoped I had really changed.
At the parole hearing, I cried when I saw my grandmother. I hugged her and kissed her on the cheek. I could see she had tears in her eyes also. I shook hands with my granddad. He wasn't the hugging sort. He did back me up at the parole hearing though.
He told the board that I had a job waiting for me, and that I had a room to stay in. He told the board that my dad had died and left me some money so that I would be able to get back on my feet.
I still had no idea how much money I had in my account. I asked my lawyer when we left the courthouse and he told me my father left me two-hundred thousand dollars. I couldn't believe it.
"Where did dad get that kind of money?" I asked.
"He was a truck driver and the company carried a policy on each driver for a hundred thousand dollars. His death was accidental and paid double indemnity."
"Who paid for dad's burial and stuff?" I asked.
"Your grandparents did. They had a small policy on your father and they always kept it up. They didn't want to use your money. They figured you've been through enough."
I did get my parole and moved back to the farm. I had a great talk with my grandparents. I told them I wanted to invest in their farm. I would use most of my savings to upgrade the equipment and help fix up the place. In turn, they had to promise me that they wouldn't sell the farm.
It was the first time I ever saw tears in the eyes of my grandfather. He had always wanted to keep the small farm in the family but my dad wasn't interested in being a farmer. Life was finally going better for me.
There I was sitting in the little cafe listening to 'You Gave Me A Mountain' for the fourth time. The waitress walked up and said, "Josh, don't you think you listened to it enough times?"
I looked up and there stood Sherry, my best friend from the past. She had tears in her eyes when she looked at me. Me, I was damn near in shock.