Chapter 106

0915 hours, local time,
Saturday, 19 July, 2014
Corcoran Residence
Hinton, West Virginia

The breakfast certainly turned out very nice indeed, not surprising with two professional cooks, who had considerable help with the meal. It had pancakes, syrup, English muffins, biscuits with butter and strawberry jam or raspberry preserves (nice choices there!), hash browns, omelets with ham, cheese, bell peppers, and onions, a lot of bacon with just the right sizzle, and sausage links that glistened in the morning sun. By now, the babies were back, so we had to “behave” ourselves a bit, but that was okay and it was only to a degree.

We all sat around and joked, even as the mothers took turns nursing the infants, which didn’t stop them from laughing and jesting as well. I loved how attached the babies were to their mamas, of course, and vice versa. They also seemed to bond with the other women who nursed them as well. Most of these kids were mine, of course, though Tara’s wasn’t. Her Lilith, however, was raised by me, at least so far, though also by my other spouses.

Paternity was never clear in Lilith’s case, given Tara’s longer period of promiscuity compared to the rest of us. Even so, I presumed that it was Cliff’s, since he had been married to Tara when she got knocked up. I frankly didn’t care, anyway. Lilith was my daughter, too. It indeed took a village to raise those kids and that was fine by me.

We were all in a very good mood, and yes, there was light and flirtatious banter, even though we kept it under the radar for now. Yes, the ladies who weren’t nursing someone often got racier than the rest of them, encouraging people to let their hands wander where they couldn’t be seen. When it wasn’t Tara’s turn to feed Lilith, for instance, she definitely encouraged my hands to caress her arms and shoulders. We didn’t get too crazy, after all, not until the little ones were out of sight.

I also made a point of catching up with Jeanette, who had been raised by her mother, my Aunt Selah. We traded a lot of stories about how life was with Aunt Selah, particularly her habit of dragging us to whatever church appealed to her lately. We went from Baptist to Methodist to Lutheran (yes, there was a Lutheran church somewhere!) to Presbyterian to Wesleyan to Assembly of God to Seventh Day Adventist to the Disciples of Christ to the Church of Christ over the course of my life. Aunt Selah, last I heard, had finally settled upon the Church of the Nazarene. As far as I knew, she was still alive, but I hadn’t spoken to her in years and had felt no desire to do so.

“Didn’t stop her from fooling around with preachers, songleaders, choir ladies, God knows what else! Didn’t she have several threesomes with that youth pastor and his wife? That was intense! Is it true that you fucked the pastor’s wife later ... the youth pastor’s wife? I was under that impression, anyway. Maybe I was wrong, but I thought that you came out suspiciously close to the time that she got out of the shower ... wearing the bath towel only halfway. You weren’t a virgin that late in life, right?” Jeanette teased me while running her fingers through my hair.

“Um, no, I wasn’t a virgin. Yes, I fucked Robin. There you go. Robin Davison. I screwed her. I humped her in the shower. She felt rather guilty about it. I didn’t. I stopped caring about what the Bible said or anything of the sort by then. She was cute. What can I say? She wasn’t a jerk like her husband. She felt horrible about what she did, but she was ... torn between her fun-loving ways and nature and Scripture and Christian dogma and morals. Yes, I did everything with her. Yes, I was only sixteen when we did it, too. No, I didn’t felt like I was raped, not even back then. I didn’t breathe a word of it to anyone, either.

“We did it sixteen more times, in fact. She had a pregnancy scare, but I never found out what she did about it, because by then, we had pulled out of the church. I saw her a couple more times in passing, years later, and I knew that she saw me, but she got this haunted look on her face and looked away from me. She still had a wedding band on her hand, which incidentally she never took off while we fucked, either. And it was fucking. I screwed her for pleasure, mutual I might add. I ate her out. I rimmed her several times. She sucked my cock. I sodomized her. She limped out of my bed at least twice, walking very funny indeed. I smirked whenever I saw her husband, Pastor Mike, since I got to do things to her that I knew that he would resent.

“Yes, she took my virginity, in case you’re wondering. She was the kinky one, I might add, the one who insisted upon all of those wild and wanton things, though I enjoyed them. It was an affair and she was my first lover. Robin Ellen Davison. Not bad in bed. Not bad at all. So, there you have my true confession,” I concluded, blushing in spite of myself that my first time was with a supposedly happily married (though how with a jerk like him?) youth pastor’s wife.

“Well, to be honest, I know that you weren’t one, because I fucked you several times in your sleep. You were passed out and I had my way with you. Some might call it ‘rape,’ but I just call it love. I also slept with Pastor Mike, but that was because I suspected that you were intimate with his wife and I wanted him distracted and busy in bed with me instead of worrying or jealous about her. I slept with him about a dozen times before I got bored with him, but I continued even after that, until I was sure that she was done with you or vice versa. Then I dropped him like a bad habit.

“That was when I took advantage of you in your sleep. I waited until you were passed out, deliberately imitated how I recalled her behaving, and began riding you in your sleep. While you were passed out with some booze. I had my way with you. Sorry, not sorry. I did. You didn’t know, so how were you harmed? People call it rape, but really, how is it? Who honestly would refuse my advances or vice versa? If you had taken me in my sleep, I wouldn’t have been angry at all. I would have been happy, but eager to repeat the act while awake.

“Also, you should know that Mom did the same thing to you. She was a bit horny, drunk, and a few other things. Stoned. Funny how much of a party girl she could be when not in church and extra pious. She never could figure out if she wanted to be a party girl or a Jesus Freak or whatever. She was a classic redneck soap opera heroine, wouldn’t you say? She fucked you in your sleep at least four times. I also know that she did the same thing to me, but I was awake and pretended to be asleep. I let her have me in my sleep three times before I woke up just to freak her out. She tried to back out of it at the time, but I was aggressive and she ended up letting me sixty-nine with her. I also rimmed her and made her rim me.

“Yes, that’s right. I committed incest with my own mother. When she woke up, hungover, and sober, I didn’t say a thing to her and neither did she. We never spoke of it again and didn’t do anything together, but I caught her admiring both you and me. Ogling us. More than once. She got stricter with us for a while there, too, as I recall, and changed churches, as you said. She told me at one point, two months after I graduated, that she blamed ‘that slut Robin for being such a Jezebel and luring the family into sin,’ as she put it. That was the one time that she even mentioned it. I told her that she was ‘full of shit, because you fucked her and her husband and you loved it.’

“She slapped my face for that and I flipped her off. I packed my bags right then and there and moved out of the house. I moved in with the neighbors and started fucking their son, of course. By then, you were in the Navy boot camp, as I recall. I was so fucking proud of you for that. Remember the Hillmans? Yeah, I slept with Eli Hillman. For about six months, in fact. Then I started in on Mr. and Mrs. Hillman, seducing both of them. I had threesomes with them and everything. Eli caught us and was livid, so to appease him, they kicked me out.