Chapter 7: Sammy Breaux, 14, Sally’s Son...

Tammy and CC had become an item. Every Monday morning he delivered the cash from the previous week. She served him coffee. He took her to bed.

It was no head-over-heels romance. She was married; he was a rover — in town and down in the bayous. But it was a mutually-pleasurable weekly romp, one they both looked forward to.

Tammy had not been surprised that he was the best lover she’d ever had. His calm demeanor, his poise and confidence, had been hints enough. But what did surprise her was his talent at, and love for, eating pussy. Someone had taught CC well.

Even though he was only two years older than Joe-Joe, he was a man by comparison. In fact, she admitted to herself, CC was a man compared with her husband — in the bedroom anyway.

He was sensitive enough to notice, and compliment her, on the clean sheets every Monday morning. Of course after he left, she had replace them with yet another fresh set. Worth it, though.

Down in the bayous, every once in a while, a different mama would approach Sinéad, plead her case, and be accepted into the sorority of live performers.

Tammy had gotten to meet many of the special couples over the last few months — CC seemed to know everyone down there.

When a new mama was scheduled, CC picked Tammy up and drove her down to watch. She was especially intrigued to see the newest act — Abigale Mouton was 54. She was going to fuck not only her 40-year old son, Paul, but also his son — a 19-year-old boy named Paulie.

Tammy said, “Why does that seem even more slutty? That she’s fucking both of them?”

“I ain’t sure, me. But it sure does.”

Even thought there was no such thing as birth certificates in the Cajun Bayous, the family resemblance would provide proof of the direct lineage to even the most skeptical of skeptics.

Tammy thought that Abigale’d body could almost pass for a teenager’s in the right light. She looked like her son’s sister. And the two of them looked like siblings to her 19-year-old grandson. Good genes.

As Paul mounted his mother in the missionary position, Tammy felt that familiar moisture between her thighs. Live sex was exciting enough — but add in the forbidden aspect and it was even hotter. Plus with CC beside her...

Abigale quickly — and obviously — became aroused. Not even the greatest actress could fake that much passion. CC was throbbing, his arm around Tammy, as they stood there mesmerized.

The fact that it was so out in the open — over 100 were watching — made it seem even more obscene to Tammy. Obscene and exciting.

Then Abigale throatily called out, “Come in my cunt, baby! Cum in my cunt!”

The crowd roared its approval as Paul sped up, groaned, and shot off. Tammy could almost imagine feeling the spurts as Abigale shouted, “Yes! Yes! Yes!”

Paul pulled back, his cock wet and glistening. Paulie replaced him instantly — his grandmother was already humping up eagerly.

Ten minutes later, Abigale dripping water from the outdoor shower, strode over to CC and grinned, “You don’ come see me no more. You don’ like bayou pussy now?”

As Abigale patted his erection, Tammy didn’t feel the jolt of jealousy she had with Sally Breaux. Tammy was CC’s city pussy now. Of course the boy would have plenty on the side.

Tammy complimented the woman on her performance — and meant every word. She asked, “What’s next?” Even though CC had told her about the second act.

Abigale spoke in a cheerfully normal tone, as if discussing something as neutral as the weather. “Paulie’s gonna butt-fuck me while his daddy’s in front.”

“Oh my.”

Abigale stood straighter, obviously proud, “Sinéad’s gonna pay me double.”

“Well, she should — that’s really brave of you.”

She shrugged, “Twenty bucks.”

CC whispered in Tammy’s ear, “Joe-Joe is coming up the steps.”

“Oh no!”

CC quickly led her around the corner to the back of the bar area. She’d never been there. Tammy licked her lips nervously — she didn’t want Joe-Joe to see her here; and she certainly didn’t want him to see her naked.

CC led her behind the gathering crowd, and down to his Jon boat.

“What about my clothes? Your clothes?” They were in a cardboard box with CC’s name scrawled on it.

He was completely at ease, “We’ll take a little tour of the bayous, come back when his boat is gone.”

“While I’m naked?”

“Tammy, half the bayous already seen you naked.”

True — she and CC had been to several sex shows. What did it matter, really, if they saw her at the bar or in a fucking boat?

CC made a lazy arc through one bayou after another, pointing out who lived where. They passed by one little house and saw Sally and Sammy waving to them. He pulled up to the dock, and helped Tammy climb up.

Sally said, “Sammy, you remember Miz Tammy? She lives in the city.” Making it sound as if it were halfway around the world.

Sammy smiled and held out his hand, “Hello, Miz Tammy, you’re real pretty.”

“Why thank you, kind sir.”

Sally led the way up to her kitchen — Sammy held Tammy’s hand. Sally looked at CC, “Chicory or American?”

“Chicory please. For both of us.”

WZYD played in the background. Sally served coffee and cornbread. To Tammy, the fact that all four of them were naked seemed, somehow, almost natural. Especially in all this fucking heat.

As they sat around the table, Sally teased CC, “Word is, she’s your girlfriend now.”

Tammy answered, “Yeah, I’m his city pussy, all right.”

Sally winked at her son, “CC is fucking Miz Tammy.”

Sammy looked Tammy up and down, nodded to himself, “I’d fuck her too.”

Irrationally, Tammy took that as a compliment. She bent down and kissed the top of his head, “Why thank you, little guy.”

Sammy looked up at his mother, “Kin I?”

To him, it was a natural question. Sally occasionally ‘loaned’ him to her friends — Evie, Corrine, and Nellie.

Tammy suddenly realized it wasn’t just an idle question from an innocent little boy.

Sally laughed and said, “I dunno, honey.” She turned to CC and said, “Kin he?”

Tammy noticed that the girl didn’t ask her, but looked to CC for permission. Her mind was telling her that the proposition was too absurd to be taken seriously. But her heart was somehow racing.

CC looked at her speculatively. Was he actually considering it? He wouldn’t try to force her — Tammy wasn’t the least bit worried about that. CC was, in his own way, quite the gentleman.

Tammy was staring back at him. She opened her mouth to say something, but what? Then she closed it. The silence built.

CC cleared his throat, “No one in town will ever know.”

Tammy realized in that instant that he wanted her to. But clearly he was leaving it up to her.

Never in her adult, married life had she considered fucking a boy she had just met. So why did she feel a little flicker of temptation? She was certainly not a prude. She was fucking CC regularly. She had just watched — and been turned on by — a three-generational fuckfest.

CC sat there, a small smile on his face, composed as always. Sally was regarding her kindly. She had had to go through a similar decision-making process herself. Except hers was even more challenging because the boy in question was her son.

When Tammy heard an inner voice saying, “It’s not abuse, no matter how young he looks. Sally fucks him on stage all the time,” she knew she was leaning towards doing it. She marveled at the audacity that she was even considering it.

But — what an adventure that would be! And, CC was right — no one in town would ever find out.

Sally refreshed the four cups of chicory. Sammy was gazing up at her hopefully. Yet Tammy didn’t feel any pressure. CC wanted her to do it — for the novelty, for the naughtiness, for just the fucking fun of it. But he’d understand if she passed on the opportunity. What was now feeling more and more like a delicious opportunity.

She heard her own voice, recognized the normality in her tone, “Where?”

Sally reached over and patted her hand, “In my bed, hon. But only if you’re sure.”

Tammy felt her cheeks heating up — more anticipation than embarrassment, “I’m ready. I think.”