I seen lots an' lots a' stories 'round here 'bout mothers fuckin' their sons an' sons fuckin' their mothers, an' I'm here t' say most all of 'em are bullshit--pure bullshit. All them mothers got tits like melons, an ass like a sixteen-year-old boy's, an' a cunt like a clenched fist. All them fuckers got a ten- inch cock. Mammy say things like, *Ohh baby... fuck my tight, hot, juicy pussy with your steel-hard fuck-stick, *an' baby sprouts a limb when'er he likes an' shoots his pint a' jism on the quarter-hour.

I kin jes' 'magine the sorry-assed wanna-be- mother-fuckers that write this shit. If'n one a' these assholes' real-life dams was t' flop onta her back an' 'itch her legs in the air fer him, the boy'ld wilt--he'd crap hisself, curl his tail 'tween his legs, an' scamper 'way yelpin'. Mos' fellers jes' don't lust after the ol' women the way they does after the young cooze-- that's a fact. An' when they do get a-itchin' after some old cooze, i'tain't their own mothers they likely be wantin' t' stick the prod t'. I often thought, what most a' these sorry fucks really want is each other's mothers--they should start a club an' swap the ol' cunts. I always use t' hear, when I was a kid, that niggers fuck their mothers, but I don't even pay that much mind no more. Far as I kin tell, it's a thing fellers talk 'bout more'n they do, an' only the pervs talk 'bout it. I ain't never met no admitted motherfucker in the flesh. I 'spect there ain't too many of us 'round.

*Real*motherfuckers are a rare an' sing'lar breed--it's an aquired taste, 'cause it don't come nat'ral; it takes hard work an' dis-a-pline; it takes balls an' forty-tude.

... An' how should I know? --Shit man, I'm the boss-man a' motherfuckers. The ol' lady limps bowl-legged when she walks away from me. I pound that old cooze 'til she don't care what kind a' noises she's a-makin, she don't care if I knock her up with a brat, she don't care if I fuck her t' death, jes' so long as I don't stop. I plow m' old man's field (God rot the dead bastard's soul); I play in his yard an' steal his apples; I get high off his jack. His wife ain't his wife no more. *I* own her plump chalky ass. She's *my* woman, now. *I* use her when an' how *I* like, mostly.

Lemme tell ya 'bout it:

... Roun' seven years ago, maybe longer, I went in this lil' A-rab liquer store on 4th an' Martin fer a bottle a' jack. I was lookin' at the jerk-off rags, like I do, sometimes, when I sees this lil' one called *Family Lust*or *Family Affair*or some shit like that. I never seen nothin' like this lil' mag, an' I was curious, so I picked it up.

Now, when I was 'bout ten years old, we had this in-ci-dent in m' family that I 'member. M' cousin, Arnold, got caught doin' the thing with his lil' sister, Dolores. M' Uncle Hank caught 'em, an' he killed that poor lil' shit. That's a true story--sure 'nough. Hank's still in that big house, an' Mama says she figgers they'll never let him out. Dolores is a whore in Nashville. Sometimes I think 'bout lookin' her up an' payin' her time fer an evenin'. Then 'gain, maybe I won't--big town like Nashville, she prob'ly services them city nigger bucks in her line a' work. I ain't sure I'd like t' foller where they been.

Well--back t' that A-rab liquor store--I open that lil' mag an' the first thing I sees is a letter from a kid who'd been fuckin' his sister. I thought 'bout Arnold an' Dolores an' al-most scummed m' pants right there in the store. I forgot 'bout the jack, an' I jes' bought that lil' mag-a-zine an' took it home. T'wasn't 'til I got it inta the house an' gave it a proper looksee that I saw t'was mostly 'bout motherfuckin'. M' int'rest in the brother-sister shit kinda went away after that. I ain't got no sisters.

I'd never thought much on the subject a' motherfuckin' t' that juncture. M' own mother warn't bad lookin'--she warn't real good lookin' neither, but some fellers might'a thought she was all right. Anyhow, I'd never really thought a' her one way or the other. She was jes' the old lady--same as she'd always been. I'd never in m' life been horny after her. But there was this magazine, full a' real life letters (I was a bit greener then than I am now), from fellers who'd been feedin' their mothers a steady diet a' sausage an' these women who'd been treatin' their lil' boys with pleanty a' candied fruit. I started wonderin' if I'd been missin' sumpthin'. I began lookin' at Mama differnt. I still didn't see a whole lot in her t' go gettin' horny over, but I started 'maginin' what she'd be like t' fuck an' thinkin' maybe-like I'd do it. Folks says, I'm a good lookin' boy, an' I ain't never had much trouble gettin' 'nough cunt t' keep me happy; but shit, who was I t' turn down s'more a' the sweet an' sticky stuff jes' 'cause it was a flavor I hain't never tried b'fore? All these other fellers seemed t' think what they was gettin' was perty de-lectable. Now, I didn't think the old lady looked like that great a piece a' ass, but some a' these other fellers had written that they'd been thinkin' the same way. Look how they'd been sur-prised.

Mama's got a kinda pale an' sickly complexion to her (not like them Caly-fornia girls in them mags that's all nice an' golden colored), an her hair ain't got much color to it. Used t' be, when she was young, it was blond. T'ain't blond no more; t'ain't brown neither; jes' sorta darkish these days. Mama's kinda a small woman. She ain't fat-- 'ceptin' a mite through the ass. (An that ain't sech a bad thing in a woman a' her years.) She got a nice face--leastways I always liked it, even b'fore I 'cided t' fuck her. Her hands is kinda long an' slender (which I like in the fe-males) an' her legs is nice shaped. The sorry thing is, she ain't got no tits--an' I did miss tits back then in a woman that warn't blessed with 'em. Since then, I gotten kinda used t' their absence in her. But hell, I heard tell a' some fellers that done been caught fuckin' sheep an' pigs an' chickens. I guess a man kin 'custom himself t' 'bout anything he warn't used t' b'fore.

I did a awful lot a' thinkin' 'bout the women in these letters. T' a man, these fellers swore their old ladies loved it up. Some a' them had right up an' asked fer it. Like I said, some a' the letters had been sent in by the old ladies. Jesus-fuckin'-Christ, these was horny bitches. I wondered how many old ladies would fuck their own sons if they was t' get half a chance. Course, I 'specially wondered 'bout mine. I watched her fer a while, an' after a time I 'cided I must 'a been an idget not t' 'a seen it b'fore. I mean, warn't she always a-touchin' an' a-huggin' an' a-kissin' me an' sayin' she loved me an' shit like that? I knowed from that, once I knowed what t' look fer, that the poor bitch must'a been dyin' fer it. I began t' wonder why she hain't jes' spoke up an' asked fer it. Shit, cain't say, a week or two b'fore, I wouldn't a' been a mite sur-prised, but I s'pose I would a' done it, if fer no other reason than as a favor t' her t' make m'self 'greable.

'Fore long, m' curiosity an' m' pity won out, an' I went t' her room one evenin', meanin' t' throw her a right nice fuck. Her light was on, an' she was readin' some religious pamphlet that some troublesome bastard had left at the door a day or two b'fore. Mama don't go much fer the Christers, but sometimes she reads the shit anyhow. Guess she gets bored. T'was a hot night, bein' the end a' summer, an' she was layin' on top a' the covers rather than under 'em. I went inta her room, an' I'll be goddamned if she didn't ask me t' get inta bed with her, pattin' the mattress next t' her ass. She'd done this a thousand times, but I took it as a special sign an' climbed right up. In a minute, she was squeezin' me real tight an' runnin' her fingers through m' hair an' sayin' the silly shit she does. I was a mite worried m' pecker wouldn't get hard. It never had b'fore--not 'round her I mean. But this time it sprung up kinda painful--musta been what I was intendin', 'cause we warn't doin' nothin' we hain't done b'fore.

I figur'd, "Nothin' ventured, nothin' gained," an' I started squeezin' her right back. She seemed t' like that plenty, but when I started feelin' 'bout her ass an' searchin' over her chest fer some tit-flesh t' grab ahold a', she started squirmin' 'round an' tryin' t' get 'way from me. *Stop. Stop it!, *she was sayin'. I warn't gonna have none a' that, though. Womens is always sayin' *no*when what they mean is *yes*. That's one thing I learned in life. I figur'd all she had t' do was get used t' the i-dea, so I jes' kep' on with what I was doin'. I rolled her over on her back an' laid on top a' her t' hold her down. T'wasn't simple keepin' her still while I got m' pants open an' m' pecker out. T'warn't no easier t' shuck up her sleepin' gown an' get her panties outa the way. An' if either a' them was dif'cult, t'was a real bitch stickin' her with m' pecker. She was buckin' 'round an' a-screamin' an' a-cryin'. Thank Jesus we ain't got no neighbors. She scratched m' neck, an' I had t' try t' hold her arms. Finally, I got it in her. I fucked her what seemed a long-assed time, an' at last she got tired a' carryin' on an' jes' lay there. I kept on a-fuckin' an' a-fuckin' her, thinkin' she'd be gettin' inta it jes' 'bout any minute; but I couldn't hold it no more in the end, an' I finished m' business.

Shit, how that silly bitch did carry on when I was done! She was sobbin' an' swearin' an' swearin' an' sobbin'. She called me more names than I knew she was 'quainted with. She said I raped her, an' she was goin t' call the law down on me an' have the sheriff out t' 'rest m' ass. I didn't pay that much mind, though. Mama hates the po- lice more 'n anyone. They killed her lil' brother, years back, an' they always use t' made trouble fer the ol' man. She was really mad. *Ya dirty lil' bastard!, *she screamed. Then she didn't seem so riled no more, an' she jes' cried real hard. She was sayin', *I'm your mother... I'm your mother. Ya didn't have no cause t' treat me like that.*

I started thinkin' that maybe she hadn't wanted me t' stuff her pussy after all. I went t' m' room, feelin' a mite dis'pointed. Cain't say t'was all I'd expected. A feller kinda likes a woman t' join in on a fuck. Mama's cunt felt nice enough (ain't never fucked a cunt that didn't, a' course), but she warn't 'xactly a fine piece a' ass. T'ain't much fun fightin' with a woman the whole time, an' t'ain't no better when she carries on after, like Mama done. 'Bout the only thing t' rec'mend sech a lay's the thought of it. T'was kinda excitin' when I was layin' a'top her t' think how i'twas her I was fuckin'. An' after, when I was back in m' room, I wiped m' pecker off with m' hand an' smelled it. The smell a' Mama's cunt jes' kinda sent a shock right through me. Ev'ry body got its own par'ticlar smell 'bout it--an' there was no cause fer curiosity that she carried an odor 'tween her legs--I'd jes' never thought 'bout it that a part a' her smell, that I knowed an' was used t', was the smell a' her cunt.

By the next mornin', I was thinkin' I'd jes' let the whole thing go, an' we could jes' ferget 'bout the whole damn business. "Scratch one up fer exper-i-ence," ya might say. Problem was, she didn't come out a' her room the whole day, almost. When she did, the silly bitch was actin' all sulky an' wouldn't talk t' me or nothin'. A feller kin only take so many days a' that shit. After 'bout three or four of 'em, I 'cided I had no other re-course but t' fuck her again. I didn't 'ticularly want t', but a man's gotta have peace in his own home. I fig'erd I'd have t' fuck her hard an' fuck her often 'til she jes' got used to it. Like I said, there wern't much relish in the prospect. I ain't a cruel man. Far as I'm concerned, there ain't much pleasure t' be got forcin' yerself on a woman in cold blood. 'Sides that, I'm mighty fond a' Mama--as is nat'ral, I s'pose--an' I didn't much like t' cause 'er sech discomfiture. 'Sides that, even, I was a kinda 'fraid she might brain me with a fryin' pan if I was t' do it again. She didn't get mad too often, nor too easy, but one time or 'nother I'd seen her fly inta a awful rage when provoked past what was reasonable. I 'cided I'd have t' face that like a man, were it t' come. I'd made a mis-take, an' now I'd have t' do what I had t' do t' fix it.

The afternoon I de-cided all this, I went t' her room t' carry out m' resolve. I couldn't get in, though, 'cause I found she'd locked her door 'gainst me. I got a mite angry at this an' was 'bout t' bust it down, but I held m' peace. I went inta the parlor t' set a spell an' wait. After a couple a' hours, I heard her movin' 'round. Then, as I was watchin' from the end a' the hall, she come outta her room an' inta the bathroom. Her hair was kinda mussed, like she been sleepin'. When she come back, she found me jes' a-sittin' an' a-rockin' in that ol' rockin' chair she keeps by her bed. I don't know how she guessed what I was gonna do, but she let out a yell an' took off like a rabbit tryin' t' get outa the house. I had t' hound-dog after her an' drag her back. She was a-twistin' an' a-kickin' an' a-hittin' an' a- scratchin' an' a-tryin' 't bite the whole way back from the kitchen. She was in a awful lather. Her face was all red an' she was a-shakin' an' a-shiverin' like one a' them spoonies does when they goes inta a fit. She was cryin' an' swearin', an' spittle was comin' outa her mouth. With the state she was in, I 'cided t' fuck her from the be-hind so's she couldn't bite m' ear off.

I bent her over the bed an' tossed her dress up on her back. I had t' rip her panties t' get 'em outa the way. Warn't havin' much success gettin' m' dick in her 'til she was tryin' t' kick me an I got up t' her 'tween her legs. Her cunt was dry, an' it kinda hurt when I shoved m'self inta her. Must not a' felt too good fer her neither: She started cryin' out, *Ow, ow, ow... yer hurtin' me! Stop! Ow! Take it out!... Yer hurtin' me.*I didn't wanta cause her no more pain than need be, so I jes' kinda held still, with m' belly up 'gainst her bare ass 'til she loosed up 'nough that I could comfortably fuck her. Jes' like the first time, all her carryin' on wore her out after a while, an she jes' lay there cryin' an' callin' me names an' let me do m' business. When I saw she warn't goin' t' fight no more, I stood up an' took m' weight off her. I fucked her a mighty long time, slowin' an' stoppin' now'n then, hopin' if I done it long 'nough she'd kinda get inta it. She didn't, though. She jes' laid there like a lump, cryin' an' moanin' how I was a dirty bastard t' be doin' that t' her. Finally, I was gettin' a kinda bored an' achy in the joints, so I's sped up some an' finished what I was at. 'Fore I left, I tol' her how we was goin' t' be doin' this real often, so she might as well get used t' it.

The next day was Monday, an' when I got home from workin' I found she'd made dinner fer me like she always had 'fore all this started. Chicken 'n dumplin's is m' favorite, an' that's what she served up. She was actin' in her ol' nice an' pleasant way, so I was figurin' she wanted t' make up fer how she'd been actin'. When she cleaned up the supper things, she retired t' her room. After a while 'a sittin' 'round readin' the paper, I follered her, thinkin' she was goin' t' be more 'greable tonight. She hain't locked her door, an' when I went in she was sittin' on her bed jes' a-starin' at the floor. She looked up real startled-like, like I'd waked her from some deep thoughts.

She jes' stared at me fer a bit, then she started fumblin' 'round in her skirts on the bed, an' out comes Daddy's ol' 45. She must a' got it out a' that ol' crumblin' leather trunk in the attic. I hain't seen it in so long I'd 'bout forgot t'was in the house. Mama hefted it up an' pointed it right at me. She said what I'd been doin' t' her was wicked, an' in her mind there warn't but one thing left t' be done, seein' as I meant t' make a habit of it. She said not t' worry, though. She figur'd she must a' done sumpthin' t' goad me on, so she'd take most a' the blame 'pon herself when we come t' our Maker. She went on an on, like she'd rehersed it all day. I was given her solemn promise that 'fore I was dead a minute, she'd put the gun t' herself. Seemed only right, she said, seein' as she'd prob'ly brought me to it somehow. (Mama didn't rightly know how she'd done this, but it only stood t' reason--why else would sech a good boy as m'self take t' actin' in sech a bad way?) Then she cocked the damned thing an' started tellin' me how she loved me an' how this was a hard thing fer her t' do but she had no choice. I jes' stood there starin' down that barrel. I couldn't swear fer what was under that hammer, but the rest a' them cylinders had bullets in 'em. The gun was kinda redish with rust, but it warn't near so far gone that there were any chance that the firin' pin was eat away. When she had said 'bout all it seemed she had t' say, her face got real hard an' she held her breath an' I could see the gun begin t' tremble ever so little from the tension in her arm. All I could think was, *Oh shit! Oh shit!... Here it comes. Here it comes.*Course, it didn't happen--else I wouldn't be settin' here writin' this now. That lil' tremble in the gun got bigger an' bigger 'til I got t' thinkin' maybe she wouldn't be able t' do it after all. Then she got t' shakin' an' twitchin' an' jerkin' so's I started t' think the gun was goin' t' go off by acci-dent. When she brought it down an' kinda laid it 'cross her lap, her finger still on the trigger, I finally figger'd I probably warn't gonna die that night. Crossed m' mind, though, that the old woman might still do mischief t' herself, so I walked right up an' took the damned thing 'way from her. I took the bullets out an' stuck 'em in m' pocket an' put the gun on the table next t' the bed.

Fer a bit there, t'was a damn-near miracle I didn't shit m'self, I was so scared. Then I wanted t' start bawlin' like a baby, I was so glad I warn't dead. Now I got mad, an' fer a minute or so there warn't nothin' I wanted t' do so much as t' beat her wi' m' fists. I didn't do it, though, an' m' anger jes' kinda drained outa me. Mama was jes' sittin' there starin' at the floor, sayin' over an' over, more t' herself than t' me, *I couldn't do it... I couldn't do it.* I fig'rd I'd better get t' work on the business I'd come fer--wouldn't do t' let her think she'd scared me outa it. I tol' her t' stand up 'n bend over the bed. She jerked like she been slapped when I said that, an' she looked up at me an' said right out like she *was*talkin' t' me now, *I couldn't do it.*After a minute, her eyes kinda cleared like she was wakin' from a walkin' sleep or somthin'. She said, *I guess I made m' choice.*She said it real tired- like, then she stood up an' turned 'round an' bent herself over the bed. Sure 'nough, with all the excitement, I warn't quite in no state fer fuckin', an' I had t' stand there a few minutes slappin' m' cock 'gainst them plump cheeks a' her ass t' get it up 'nough t' do what I come fer. She jes' lay there, her eyes open, starin' at nothin', while I done it, an when I was through she didn't say nothin'--jes' lay there lookin' real pitiful. She didn't even turn down her dress when I was done. I was feelin' kinda sorry fer her, but I didn't see as there was much I could do. I set down next t' her an' flipped down her clothes. I patted her back, tryin' t' be comfortin', but mostly jes' feelin' awkward. *Ya don't have t' take it so bad, *I said, *I never meant ya t'... I hoped it might be nice 'tween us.*Then I tol' her all 'bout them folks in the magazines. She had her face turned from me, an' fer all I could tell she never heard a word of it. I took the gun from off a' her table an went off t' bed. The next mornin' I threw it in the river.

After that night, she never resisted me no more. The next mornin' when I come out--real quick like while the cakes was on the griddle--I picked her up an set her on the edge a' the table there in the kitchen. She jes' sat there real patient- like, an' when I was done she jes' went back t' her stove an' finished makin' m' breakfast. That night, I done her on her bed again--only this time there warn't no reason not t' lie on her belly if'n I wanted t'. Well, I fucked her like a rabbit fer 'bout a week. By the end a' that time, I was gettin' kinda bored. She warn't by far the most fun I'd ever had with m' dick outa m' pants. She didn't think too much a' me neither. I'd set upon fuckin' her ever' day, thinkin' she'd get used t' it an' maybe take a likin' an' then we'd have ourselves a good time. The joke was on me, all right. She was gettin' used to it. Fo' shore. She was gettin used t' it the same way an ol' feller might get used t' havin' his doctor stuff his fingers up his behind ever' twelve months--didn't seem t' hurt her none, but she didn't seem t' like it any, either. Mama was a dead lay. She never helped none in the bump an' grind of it. I'd tell her t' move her ass, an', right obligin' 'nough, she'd move her ass fer me; but I guess there ain't no rhythm where there ain't no pleasure. She was seemin' t' get back t' normal, actin' her ol' self, so I kinda de-cided that I'd do us both a favor an give her ass a rest. I'd let her pussy re-tire from active service. I fig'rd that was prob'ly what she wanted.

On 'bout the third day after I started neglectin' her, she asked me, concerned-like, if'n I'd taken sick. I don't think she was *askin'*fer a fuck or none a' that, she was jes' worried that I hain't been *takin'*one. Fact was, I was feelin' kinda squirrely. I'd done got used t' gettin m' nuts off once or twice a day, an' after a few days respite I was missin' it kinda bad. I kep' thinkin' I'd have t' get out a' the house, come an evenin', an' find m'self a piece a' ass, but I kep' puttin' it off an' never done it. When I finally broke down after 'bout five or six days, Mama was real solicitous. She didn't seem no hotter fer it than b'fore. I think t'was out a' kindness t' me that she took down her own panties an' bent herself over the sofa an flipped her dress up over her back. I was int' her mighty quick. It was like comin' home. I watched her big white ass jiggle as I fucked her, an' I started playin' with it--cuppin' an' squeezin' it with m' hands. I pulled her cheeks 'part t' look at her goodies. There warn't nothin' partic'lar bout the sight a' her ruddy- pink ass-hole. It even had some a' them dark hairs growin' 'round it, a sight I didn't much like back then. (I used 't think them shaved bitches in them mags was the hottest.) Right then an' there, though, I lost it an' started squirtin' m' stuff. T'was jes' the thought of it, I reckon, that here I was, pryin' open the crack a' m' own Mama's ass an' starin' at her there, even watchin' where m' cock was slidin' in an' outa her. When we was done, I thanked her, an, real perty-like, she tol' me I was welcome. That made me realize, right there, that she warn't adverse no more t' m' doin' her. Seemed funny, she could take so much fuckin' without the least sign a' likin' it. I could a' understood it if she was real young or gettin' on more 'n she was. But she was married long 'nough t' know what fuckin' was 'bout, an' she warn't so old that the sap was drained outa her. I 'cided then I'd jes' have t' do some better convincin' an' get m' Mama t' take a lil' pleasure from it even if I was her son.

The next day, I tol' her I was wantin' t' fuck again, an' we went t' her room. I tol' her t' take off all a' her clothes. She seemed a-kinda re-luctant t' do that--I'd never seen her completely neked b'fore- -but I made it clear I was gonna have her that way, so she done what I tol' her. I got neked m'self, an we both lay down on that bed a' hers. I was thinkin' t' m'self 'bout then that I'd be damned if I let her up off it b'fore she'd enjoyed herself some. I started kissin' her on the face an on the lips in ways that I hain't never kissed her b'fore. She warn't really kissin' me back 'til I tol' her to, an', even then, seemed I was doin' most a' the work. All this while, I was kinda playin' wi' her teats. (I think I done said b'fore, m' Mama ain't hardly got no tit-flesh on her chest--jes' her womanly teats.) I was rubbin' them paps, an' ticklin', an' pichin' at 'em, an' I 'member feelin' mighty satisfied that I finally got 'em t' stand up a bit. When I saw I'd done that, I started tryin' t' rub her b'tween her legs. Her kisses was unpracticed, but they was comin' 'long 'til I went an' touched her on her cunt. Then she tensed up some an' got distracted. I had t' tell her t' open her legs again an' then t' rub her a right smart while b'fore she didn't seem t' mind no more. M' Mama's growed over real thick down where her private parts is. She got quite a spread, too. I don't mean she's one a' them hairy bitches with fur growin' all down her thighs an' up over her belly to her navel, but damn if she don't sport a dense an' tangled wilderness a' hairs down there. She might as well not got no quim at all fer' all a feller kin see 'less'n he's got her legs all splayed back an' he's ticklin his nose up 'gainst it.