Chapter 1

This was the perfect day to go after rabbits. Ma had mentioned how much she was looking forward to the first rabbit stew of the spring, so I figured that was all of the hint that I needed. Ma was all I had in the world to love, except for my dog Sam, and I did everything I could to be a good son and provider.

Pa had been killed last fall in a fatal argument with a wild boar, and it fell to me to become the man of the house. We lived as far out in the boondocks of Arkansas as it was possible to get, so nobody missed me when I dropped out of school to work the farm. I was 14 at the time, and ma and I figured that I had all of the schooling that I really needed. 1911 had rolled around, and I never heard from any school people about why I had quit—a lot of boys my age did that when they were mature enough to take on adult responsibilities.

I took up what for me was a new .22 H&R rifle. Of course, it was really old and second-hand, but it was all that I could afford. It had been well cared for, and the general store where I bought it for $2.00 guaranteed that I could return it for credit if it failed me during the first year. At the time, all of the cash money I had in the world was $2.27, so I bought a box of Long Rifle cartridges and left the store with 2¢ in my pocket. Pa's rifle had been busted when that boar jumped him, so ma agreed that I needed a new rifle if I were going to feed us the meat we needed. He'd had a .38-40 Winchester, but all I could salvage were 13 cartridges.

Actually, that .22 was just right for hunting the kind of game that I was after. Rabbits and squirrels would have been a lost cause if I had shot one with that big ole .38-40. I had used up five cartridges zeroing-in my new rifle, and I knew that I could hit anything I aimed at under 25-30 yards. Two years ago, I had learned to shoot my cousin's .22, and his family was rich enough to let us shoot all of the time I was visiting them. Sure, we were using .22 Shorts to save money while we were fooling around, but a bullet was a bullet as far as I was concerned when it was just target practice.

Sam and I left home early in the morning, just after there was enough light for me to see. Of course, all Sam needed was his nose, so he could hunt just about any time. We headed for a place that I just knew had to be full of rabbits this time of the year. Yesterday, I had put out snares in hopes of being lucky. After all, cartridges did cost money, and I had none to spare.

All winter, ma and I had gotten by on salted or smoked meat, but that didn't compare to the flavor of fresh rabbit stew, so I had high hopes of finding at least one. Sure, I would take as many as I could get, but I was not going to hold my breath waiting for a whole passel of rabbits to show up. Oh, my Lord, luck was with me! I checked my snares before I went in with my rifle, and I found two fat bucks in my snares. That was enough for today, and it meant that we would eat well for the next couple of days. I thanked God that I had not needed to use any of those expensive cartridges.

Naturally, I had my hunting knife with me, so I field dressed those two rabbits before heading toward home. I had them slung over my shoulder and my rifle in my hand as I headed home. This time, I took the shortcut through the ancient pecan grove, and I received a very unpleasant surprise.

That pecan grove was occupied by wild hogs! There was a sow and four piglets, but no sign of the boar. Shit, if they spotted me, I could be up to my ass in trouble! A boar is death on four legs, but a sow is bad enough. She didn't have the tusks that a boar had, but she could bite off an arm or leg with one closing of her jaws. My only chance was to get out of there before the wild hogs got agitated.

I started to back out of the grove very slowly; running would have attracted the sow like ants to sugar. Just as I luckily reached a tree suitable for climbing, I spotted the boar. He was off in the bushes doing some sort of boar thing and also had not noticed me. Sight of that boar was all of the encouragement I needed to scoot up that tree as quickly as I could move.

Naturally, the boar saw me and rushed over to investigate. Fortunately, Sam was smarter than the average dog and obeyed me when I sent him home. Now it was just me in a tree and an angry boar below me. Hell, what am I saying? Boars are always angry—it's just part of their nature.

Well, I sat quietly in that tree hoping that the boar would get tired of staring at me and go somewhere else. No such luck, the boar knew that I had to come down eventually, and he was determined to wait me out. At the end of an hour with the standoff, I figured that it was up to me to do something.

All I had to go against that boar was my .22 rifle. Like most .22 rifles at the time, it was a single-shot, so there was no way that I was going to scare the boar away by spraying a lot of lead in his direction. A .22 slug is almost a waste of time against an animal larger than a rabbit if you want a quick kill, and that boar was a LOT bigger than a rabbit—he was a man-killer.

It looked to me like the only chance I had was to shoot the boar in the brain, but he had a thick skull to try to crack. He did have one weak point if I could take advantage of it. His eyes were a direct path to his brain, and I might be able to put a bullet into one of his eyes if I got real lucky. A hit anywhere else on his head was just going to bounce off. The boar might get a headache from that, but not much else would happen to him.

Fortunately, the boar was only about 15-20 feet away as it wandered around the base of the tree. I had plenty of time to shoot, and I was smart enough not to rush things. I was able to lean my rifle against a limb to help steady my aim. My first shot hit the boar about half an inch above his left eye, and that really pissed him off.

He started banging his shoulder against the tree to try to shake me down, but I held on until he gave up in frustration. That damned boar had actually torn some of his skin on his shoulder from hitting the tree so hard, but this was a sturdy pecan tree, and all it did was shake a little. Meanwhile, the boar was now standing a little farther away. I guessed that was to make it easier to keep an eye on me.

What it did was to give me a slightly better angle to aim at his eye. This time, I hit his head on the right side just below his eye. The bullet glanced down and took out some teeth. Now the boar was really pissed off at me! Nevertheless, he was smart enough to give up on trying to shake me out of that pecan tree.

At that moment, I heard Sam bark at the boar. Dammit, that dog had not gone home like I had thought. If that fool dog attacks the boar, he will be ripped to shreds by those tusks. There was no more time for finesse, I was going to have to take as many shots at the boar as I could in hopes of doing it some fatal damage.

I began to shoot at the boar's eyes again, and that distracted it from Sam's barking. At last, my third shot did penetrate the left eye of the boar, and a few moments later, it dropped to the ground. It didn't move after that, other than a few twitches of its legs. I was confident enough now to climb back down the tree. It was probably the brashness of youth, but I confidently walked toward the downed boar.

Dammit, I had forgotten the potential danger from the sow, but Sam saved me at this point by running at a piglet while barking like mad. This distracted the sow, and she diverted her attention to protecting the piglets. She acted as a rear guard as they scattered to the bushes, and she followed closely behind. Well, I had to apologize to Sam; he had done me some good after all by not running home as ordered.

I now had something to divert my attention from the two rabbits I had found that morning; namely, a freshly killed boar. That was something that rarely happened in my neck of the woods, and I planned to take advantage of the opportunity. I spent the rest of the day butchering that boar on the spot and piling the meat on a hastily constructed travois. Oh, boy, was ma going to be surprised when I got home. She knew that I could be out all day with my hunting, so she would not worry about me until late afternoon. Well, I would be home by then, so I just paid attention to my very pleasant chore of butchering that boar.

By the time I dragged the travois into our yard, ma was starting to be concerned about me. She really was startled when she noticed that my travois was loaded with hog meat. She was concerned, but relaxed when she realized that I had come out of the encounter unscathed. I gave her a detailed account of my day's experiences while we hung the hog meat in the smokehouse. That boar was large enough to feed us for over a month when his meat was spaced in with the other stuff that I brought in.

That night, ma fixed a delicious rabbit stew and we lazed at the supper table much longer than usual talking about this and that. Ma said, "Jack, you have proved yourself to be a man today, and I am feeling a strong itch. I think that it is time you took over the only one of your pa's duties that you have not assumed."

"What can that be, Ma? I thought that I was doing everything that pa did."

"You have been doing a wonderful job at all those things that your pa used to do, except that one thing that I need very bad. You are old enough to stop using your hand to satisfy your needs and to move into my bed to satisfy my needs, too."

"Ma, does that mean that you want me to ... to ... to fuck you?"

"No, it means that I want you to make love to me the way your pa did. Can you do that for me?"

"Sure, Ma, I can try, but you will have to tell me each thing to do. You know that I ain't never done anything like that before, so all I know is what I've seen the animals do."

"Well, we'll take a bath tonight, and I'll show you what to do. I'm sure that you will get the hang of it real quick, the way you have done all of your life."

As usual, I helped ma clean up after supper, and I dragged out the sheet metal bath tub we normally use for Saturday nights. Most people took a Saturday night bath to be ready for church the next morning, but we were so far away from a church that we never did anything but sleep a little late on Sunday mornings. That made the morning chores a bit late, but none of the animals complained, so we didn't worry about it.

Ma and I both were in kind of a hurry to get started on this last of pa's chores, so we didn't stall around. She had anticipated me and already had water heating on the stove during supper, so we had hot water for the bath tub right soon. I started to ask a question, "Ma..."

"No, Jack, from now on, you must call be by my name. Now, you must call me Mary. That is what's fitting because of what we are about to do."

"Okay, Ma, oops, Mary. I'll try to do that, but habits are sometimes hard to break. Will this make you my wife?"

"Yes, I think so. At least as far as we are concerned, but I guess that we better try to act like mother and son whenever we are around other people. What we are about to do is against the law."

"Okay, Mary. I can do that, but you better remind me the first few times."

"I'll do that. Now, let's get started. I can hardly wait. The first thing I want you to do is to undress me, and then I'll undress you. If we stand up, we can get into the tub together."

Oh, dear Lord, I was about to see my mother, no, my new wife, naked for the first time. She had already removed her kitchen apron, so she was just dressed in her normal dress. It was old and badly worn, even patched in places. The way it sagged on her, I really had no idea what she looked like underneath. Well, I was about to find out, and my cock had already gotten hard at the thought.

Her dress buttoned from her waist to her neck, and she had me start at the top to unbutton every button without pulling the dress open. Once that job was done, she had me pull the two sections open to expose her chest. My God! Mary was beautiful! She was wearing nothing to cover her tits, and they stuck out from her chest like filled sacks with a large red nipple decorating the front of each. Around each nipple was a ring that was filled in with a pink color the same as her nipples, and the whole area was covered with dozens of small bumps like oversize goosebumps.

She was 32 years old, and I couldn't see any sag in her tits. I didn't remember what they looked like when I suckled them as a baby, but I could hardly resist doing that again right now. Well, I didn't suck on them, but I did pause in my duties long enough to kiss each nipple.

Mary laughed when I did that, and I could tell that it was the sound of joy. It was at that moment that I received my second marvel of the evening. Her laughter caused her to shrug her shoulders, and that made her dress slip past her hips and fall to the floor. She had been wearing nothing at all under her dress but some stockings and her shoes.

I was presented with the sight of an almost flat belly and flaring hips that looked like they were made for love. Just below her belly, I could see a bush of almost black hair that covered her mound of Venus. I knew what was covered by that hair in a general sort of way, but I could hardly wait to examine it in detail.

Mary stood still while I gazed at her in total awe and admiration. Then I noticed a thin stream of liquid slowly running from her crotch and down her left leg. Mary said, "Come on, Jack, and finish your job or I will never be able to get my stockings clean again." We both laughed at that comment, and I bent to remove her shoes.

That done, Mary instructed me on the proper way to remove her stockings. That was when I discovered that the wet stuff leaking from her crotch was not piss. I was not sure what it was, but it did have an interesting, but almost undetectable, odor. On second thought, maybe aroma was a better word than odor.

Anyway, now that she was naked, she preceded to remove my clothes. For obvious reasons, she started with my boots and socks. I was glad that she started there because I was afraid of stepping on her bare feet in my excitement. Speaking of excitement, my erect cock was about to punch a hole in my pants.

Mary next removed my shirt. She tweaked and kissed my nipples before she went any further, and was almost enough to make me spurt white stuff from my cock. Now she surprised me further by dropping to her knees to remove my pants. She loosened my belt and unbuttoned my fly without letting my pants open or my cock to escape. Dammit, I felt like I was going to die of frustration, but I didn't know why I felt that way.

She then grabbed the waistband of my pants and sort of peeled them off my hips. I had no underwear on, so my cock jumped up the moment it was released from the bondage of my pants. My pants were kind of hooked on my knees and failed to fall to the floor, but Mary totally ignored that as she completely surprised me by taking my cock into her mouth. My cock was sweaty and must have tasted of salt, but Mary still continued to hold my cock with her lips while her tongue rubbed against the underside of my cock.