Life In The Redneck Town Of Panhandle In 1969 Ch 01

MILLIE GETS EVEN WITH HER CHEATING HUSBAND

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Readers please be advised, the story 'Life in the Redneck Town of Panhandle in 1969' is written using Redneck slang, quotes, incorrect Hillbilly grammar, and terms relevant to the year 1969.

DISCLAIMER: All characters appearing in the series 'Life in the Redneck Town of Panhandle in 1969' are fictitious, as they do not exist. Any resemblance to a real person, living or dead, is purely coincidental, and should not be construed to associate a real person, living or dead.

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The Alaska Airlines jet had just taken off from Seattle en route to Juneau, Alaska where I'd meet up with my cousin Pauly for a week long fishing trip in a remote Alaskan fishing village celebrating my big 5-0 birthday.

The jet was at cruising altitude of 37,000 feet when my mind drifted back to 1969 and the great times Pauly and I shared together our senior year at Panhandle High before we went our separate ways in the fall of 1970. And, now after thirty-two years we'd be reuniting, reliving those olden days from yesteryear while our wives of twenty-seven years, took the kids and grandkids to Disney World for a week of fun in the sun.

The year 1969 may have been a year of crisis and turmoil within the USA with the civil rights movement, the Vietnam War continuing to escalate, the Gay-Lesbian movement kicking into high gear, not to mention the anti-war protests on virtually every college campus across American. But, not even Neil Armstrong walking on the moon fazed the folks in the town of Panhandle. Nothing really mattered to the hometown folks except harvesting the wheat and corn, cutting and baling hay, getting cattle to market, harvesting a whitetail buck for a supply of winter's meat, and last but not least, packing Panhandle High School's Red Panther Stadium like sardines on Friday nights during the football season.

Well, I guess I should rephrase that just a bit, the beginning of the gay rights movement with the Stonewall riots on June 28th did raise an eyebrow or two in the small Southern redneck town of Panhandle located smack dab in the middle of the Bible Belt.

It was the morning after my 18th birthday, July 4, 1969 to be exact, and the riots over gay rights in New York's Greenwich Village had continued for past six nights, launching sexual liberation out of the Dark Ages and into the 20th Century.

My cousin Pauly had stayed over for the night since we'd be taking Carla and Helen to the lake today for Panhandle's all-day Fourth of July celebration.

We were eating breakfast with Mom and Dad when Dad spoke out, "I see those queers are still at it up in New York. Serves those Yankees right, letting those queers get out of hand. I hear tell yesterday down at the feed store both the Adams and Jones boys are a couple of them damn queers."

Mom quickly interrupted Dad, "Ted enough of this talk at the table! Buddy and Pauly don't need to be hearin' about the unchristian like behavior of the Adams and Jones boys!"

Dad replied, "Like hell they don't! Buddy's 18 now and Pauly's 19, both are old enough to understand you keep queers away from your tally whackers. Now Betsy, don't interrupt me again!

"Ol' Chief Martin told us down at the store, 'I caught the Adams boy out at the lake sucking the tally whacker of the new junior high Coach...Mills, I think is his name.'

"Everyone was laughing and pretty much said at the same time, 'What'd you do Chief?'

"Chief Martin just smiled, 'Well fellas, once I shined my light inside the Ford pickup, I immediately recognized the Adams boy with the Coach's dick in his mouth. I knew the Adams boy graduated from PHS last year, so I figured what the hell, he had to be of legal age. I just smiled and told'em, 'You fellas just carry on about your business, don't mind me, no harm done.'

"Old man Pippins was laughing, then spoke up, 'Yeah, I'd hear'd that about the Adams boy too. Seems like he not only likes to suck on tally whackers, but likes to take'em up his poop chute too.'

"Fred told me not long ago, 'I was cleaning out the shower stalls in the locker room when I never hear'd the like in all my days of the gruntin', moanin', and carryin'on coming from inside the training room. I slipped around the corner and peeked inside. I had a front row side seat to sees what was causing all the gall dang commotion. Pip, I weren't three maybe five foot at the furest from all the action and it was really a shocker to sees PHS's head trainer of some twenty-eight-years, Rocco Ploggy, cornholing the hell out of that Adams boy.

'Rocco had him bent over one of the training tables, the kid's pants, and undies were down around his ankles, his hands were clenching the edge of the table so tight it looked as if the poor boy was hanging on for dear life every time Rocco rammed his cornholer in and out of his poop chute.

'Nows like I says Pip, I was just a stone throws away from them as Rocco was cornholing that kid and from the sides I could tell ol' Rocco was packing one bad ass cornholer. Nows, I never got a good looks at his length but damn if Rocco's cornholer weren't lookin' to be big around as a baby's arm.

'Rocco's britches were down to his mid-thighs, his strong hands were gripping the Adams kid hips like a C-clamp, and he was really givin' it to him.

'Rocco's egg sized hairy jewels were swingin' and slappin' around. His ol' gray hairs and hips were smackin' into that kids butt cheeks, and I knows that Adams kid had to be hurtin' the way Rocco was pounding his poop chute like a teenager instead of a 50-year-old fella.

'That kid was moaning to all git out 'OH GAWD...YOU'RE KILLIN' ME TODAY... PLEASE SLOW DOWN MR. PLOGGY' and every time he moaned and begged for mercy, Rocco pounded that big ass cornholer in and out of that kid's young poop chute just a bit harder. I mean ol' Rocco was pounding his cornholer balls deep in and out of the Adams kid's ass like a jackhammer busting up concrete.

'It ain't very long at all before I'm noticing Rocco gruntin' like an ol' Brahma Bull. Rocco was gruntin' louder and louder, and breathin' like his ol' hound dog in heat. His legs and ass tightened up, like a screw in a hinge. Them jewels weren't slappin' around, and he was thrustin' his cornholer faster than a jackrabbit on moonshine. Ol' Rocco was lettin' out them moans 'OHH...OHH...AHHH' and I knows then Rocco's cornholer was spittin' its wad inside that kid's poop chute.

'Rocco's pounding started to slow down and after one last deep 'AHHH' Rocco just stood still for a bit before he started pulling his cornholer out of the Adams kid's ass. And, Pip, when Rocco's cornholer came into plain view, just the sight of it made my butthole pucker up—Lookin' every bit the length of a regular sized Co-Cola bottle and thicker than a sausage roll! But to my surprises, there weren't a drop of do-do on ol'Rocco's pecker. Once Rocco had pulled his cornholer out of the Adams kid's asshole, them there flood gates opened. Cum oozed out of the opening of the kid's asshole like a leak in Elmer's pond dam, onto his balls, and down his thighs before finally dripping to the training room floor.

'Rocco stood still, his pecker still a boner, dripping the last few drops of cum out the tip of that wide mushroom head when Rocco finally spoke, 'Boy, you know the routine, now lick me clean.'

'The Adams kid finally stood up, turned around, dropped to his knees, and started licking Rocco clean. And, before long, Rocco's cornholer was clean as a whistle!

'Rocco pulled up his pants, grinned a bit, and as he was walking back to his office, said, 'Adams same time next week, be sure you're good and clean, and don't be late.'

'Pip, in all my born days—well, it was the God damnest thing I ever sawed!

'Afterwards, I just sort of slipped away, goin' back to mindin' my own business, and cleanin' out them shower stalls.'

Dad was laughing, "Once Pippins finished telling us the story Fred told him, Pip smiled and said, 'Well, fellas, I guess so much for Rocco Ploggy being thought of around these here parts as that fine upstanding conservative perfect Southern Christian gentlemen—huh fellas?'

"Charles Ray was quick to respond,'Don't think we should place all the blame on Rocco just yet. Maybe Miss Millie ain't doing her duty and keepn' Rocco satisfied on the home front. So instead of cheatin' and committin' adultery, Rocco found this Adams kid to cure his itch. I realize the good book don't approve of them queer activities that Rocco and this Adams kid are doing, but the fact of the matter is, breaking one of them Ten Commandments is a badder sin than giving it to the Adams kid up the poop chute. Just mys way of thinkin.'

Dad took a sip of his coffee before continuing to tell his story, "Buck answered Charles Ray,'I hear tell it's the other way around Charles Ray. My younger brother Cletus told me a thing or two about Rocco Ploggy. Seems like Rocco hadn't really screwed Millie good and proper in something like a month of Sundays and was cheatin' on Miss Millie with Panhandle's town whore, Emma Jo. Rocco had been ballin' Emma for coon's age, damn near four months, before Millie finally caught wind of it through the grapevine. Millie confronted Rocco about it, and of course, Rocco denied the whole ball of wax. But Miss Millie weren't buying his story, so one night when Rocco supposedly had to work late after a Red Panther basketball game, Millie made a drive over by Emma's place and caught her cheatin' husband red-handed.

'Parked in the back alley behind Emma's place was the hottest Chevy pickup around these parts. A brand spankin' new 1969 C10 red with white custom trim Stepside Chevy pickup truck. There weren't no doubt, it were Rocco's Ploggy's Chevy pickup! But I guess maybe the straw that broke the camel's back happened about two days later, a day before Valentine's Day.

'Millie was at the Five & Dime picking up a few odds and ends for her grandbabies when she overheard the two town gossip queens, Martha and Lucy, snickering away.

'Martha was whispering to Lucy,'Look, there's Millie Ploggy. I feel so sorry for poor Millie. She's such a good Southern Christian woman, but she hasn't the clue her husband of thirty years is busy screwing the town whore, Emma Jo, while she sits at home alone.'

'Lucy snickered, 'I've hear'd the same thing about Rocco and Emma Jo. But, did you know Martha, at our weekly canasta luncheon, I overheard talk, now it's just talk mind you, that Rocco Ploggy is also fooling around with that queer Adams boy too.'

'So after thirty years of being happily married, being a devoted, faithful Christian wife, never wanting to stray from her wedding vows, raising two youngins in a good Christian atmosphere, and never missing a Sunday's meetin', Miss Millie decided it was time to even the score with her cheatin', lyin', queerin', husband. So Valentine's night, Miss Millie decided to give it up to Cletus and the next day is when she cut ol' Rocco off.'

"We were all dumbfounded and Charles Ray replied,'What the shit? Rocco must have a few loose screws in his head to have cheated on Millie with Emma Jo. Ol'Emma has spread her legs like butter for just anyone who has a hankerin' for a piece of ass around these parts ever since Buck there busted her cherry when they were seniors at PHS. And, Buck, weren't that damn near twenty year ago?'

"Buck was laughing and answered Pip,'Sho'nuff it was. Me and Emma Jo were seniors together and Homecoming night I busted her cherry—fucked her three times if I remember right. I coulda fucked her more, but I ran out of Big Chief rubbers. Emma Jo liked fucking so much she started fucking Joe Bob, John Boy, and Bobby Joe along with me for the rest of the school year. Shit, I remember prom night the four of us hauled Emma Jo out to the lake in John Boy's parents' Studebaker. None of us had any rubbers but we fucked Emma Jo anyway. The four of us fucked her long and hard, non-stop, one after the other, pumping her full of cum until she finally threw in the towel. I can't remember how many times we fucked Emma Jo that night, but I'm guessin' had to be more than a Baker's dozen.

'Fucking a broad like Emma Jo when there's a jewel at home like Miss Millie... all I can say is Rocco must be plumb eat up with a bad case of the dubm-ass! Not even them middle-age crazies would make me pass on Miss Millie to fuck Emma Jo and cornhole that Adams kid.'

"Charles Ray laughed, 'Well Buck, here's my two-penn'oth worth on this hear matter we're talkin'about.

'If'n Miss Millie's is in the givin' mood, you damn straight, I'd do some serious thinkin' about how I could be a cheatin' on Jozelle without her knowing anythings about it—good book or no good book. I'd be willin' to give up my left nut to stuff Miss Millie's box full with my one-eye boner and fill her sweet cunt full of jizzum!'

"Buck was laughing, 'Darn tootin' Charles Ray, if Miss Millie was offerin', I'd dang sure be a takin', and willin' to slip in a one night stand behind Sammie Jo's back whilst her and the kids were visiting her folks. But we'll have to get in line behind my younger brother to a have a chance of gittin' into Millie's panties. Cletus has been bangin' Miss Millie's hot snatch just like clockwork, gonin' on dang near five months now, and sure don't look like there's no end in sight.

'Clet told me hook line and sinker how all this come to be. It all started last Valentine's Day when the Red Panthers were out of town playing basketball. Millie had just recently caught Rocco red-handed cheatin' on her with Emma Jo and got wind Rocco was also queerin' around with that Adams boy. So Millie decided it was high time to git even with him by grudge fucking someone, anyone on this Valentine's night—that is if they met Miss Millie's qualifications—being hung bigger than Rocco's trouser snake and little brother Cletus came callin' packing a full nine inches of swingin' meat!'

"Pip spoke up, 'Damn Buck I'd hear'd Cletus was hung like a horse, but you're sure—a nine inch tally whacker? Shit Buck, that's be prettn' near two inches bigger than what ol' Fred told me Rocco had a hangin'!

"Buck laughed,'Damn straight Pip. I was home on leave from the service for Clet's senior graduation from PHS and we were puttin' down some cold Jax brews down on Jasper Creek. We were just bull shitin' when out of the clear blue Clet told me he was givin' my ol' PHS punchboard, Emma Jo, every inch of his nine incher, two sometimes three times a week making Emma squeal like a fresh cut pig.

'I laughed at him and called him a liar, 'Little Brother, you damn sure ain't packin' no nine incher! Shit, I'm only a six-and-a-half,and that's with a good boner on! If you're a nine, that'd mean you've growed four-and-a-half inches since I left for the service four years ago!

'Clet said,'I ain't lying! Betcha a case of Jax?'

'I laughed,'Ok, little brother you're on!' Afterwards, weren't no one around so we went and slipped behind the house on the back porch. Clet got settled into the porch swing and started strokin' while I slipped inside and found Mama's sewin' machine measuring tape. Once I found Mama's tape I hustled back on the double and little brother already had a pretty good stiffy working. I watched him just a bit more as he kept strokin' it up. Once little brother had a good stiffy up, I handed him the measuring tape and sure 'nough he was packing a nine incher! And, to top it off, that damn thang was six-and-a-half around!'

Dad stopped for a second and smiled,"In the Army there was a dude in our barracks named Otis Lee. Otis was from Mississippi and was blessed with a sure fire Alabama Black Snake...ten-and-a-half long, but it weren't six-and-a-half around. We'd all sneak a peep from time to time as this ol' homeboy would be givin' it right up the poop chute to our asshole Drill Sergeant, just like Rocco did the Adams kid."

I remembered how Pauly and me snickered at Dad's remark, but Mom wasn't one bit happy with Dad and he knew it, so he quickly continued telling Buck's story about Miss Millie and Cletus!

"Anyway, Buck carried on tellin' his tale, 'Miss Millie was at the Tipsy Lady Bar & Grill over in Centerville and was definitely a spiteful married woman on the prowl! Millie was sitting at the bar sipping on a gin and tonic with her sexy tanned legs crossed, flashing more than just a bit of leg under her snow white shorter than short mini skirt. Millie was wearin' a matching low cut knit top over her bare boobs, showing off a bit of her peachy cleavage,the shape of her mouth-watering titties, along with those plump twin nipples!

'Cletus walked in around 7:30-ish and took a seat next to Millie and said, 'Miss Millie are you ever a sight for sore eyes tonight. I mean you look hot...extremely hot for a 40-year-old mother of two. Your shoulder length red hair is absolutely stunning, and the way you're dressed...hell,even Pastor Micha drool at the mouth—all this ol' country boy can say is —damn are you ever one red hot foxy mama tonight!'

'Millie smiled, 'Thanks for the compliment Cletus, but the truth of the matter is I'm not only a 48-year-old mother of two, but I'm also a granny to three!'

'Cletus responded, 'Well all I'll say is you've really taken care of yourself—you dang sure don't look a day over forty! And, if you don't mind me saying, Miss Millie, you've still got the whole package!

'Sexy legs, a finer than fine ass, not to mention those beautiful breasts you're packing, to go along with your super great looks! I'm ashamed to admit it with you being married to Rocco and all, but ever since I was a sixteen-year-old teen, it has always been a fantasy of mine to...huh...GAWD, I hate to say it, but well, to fuck you! I'm sorry Miss Millie, but you've always turned me on so much when I'd see you walking around Panhandle with your two kiddos, Barbie and Jimmy Ray. It never really mattered to me what you were wearin', church clothes, dresses, pants, shorts, or heaven forbid, your swimsuit, when the whole town would go to the lake for the annual Fourth of July celebration. It was always the same when nightfall came, I'd lay in bed and jackoff just thinkin' about you. And tonight, I damn near creamed my jeans when I saw you sittin' at the bar.'

'Miss Millie interrupted Cletus, 'No need to apologize Cletus, like I said earlier, 'Thanks for the compliment.' And, just to let you know, I find you extremely handsome, with a physique to match. And even though you have a reputation around Panhandle of being a first class womanizer, I've never heard a bad word about you. Seems like the only women you actively pursue are single or divorced women around thirty to thirty-five years of age. Just curious Cletus, I'm guessing you're around 32 or 33 years old?'

'Clet just smiled, 'I'm 32 Miss Millie. Thanks for not takin' things the wrong way. I know for the past sixteen years I've been living in a fool's paradise continuing to fantasize about one day being lucky 'nough to be gittin' it on with you. And, just so you'll understand, I was meanin' no harm, Rocco is the luckiest man in the world to be married to a hot mama like you all these years! I guess Rocco will be joining you shortly?'

'Millie replied to Cletus, 'Not tonight Cletus. Rocco's with the Red Panther basketball team in Cottersville and won't be home till midnight or after. Tonight Cletus, this forty-eight-year-old married mother and granny is on the prowl to get even the score with Rocco for cheatin' on me with Emma Jo! And, I suspect after the game in Cottersville, my husband of thirty years will be cheatin' on me again before he comes home in the wee hours of the morning. So Cletus on this Valentine's night in 1969, you may not be living in a fool's paradise after all—fantasies can happen.'

'Cletus replied, 'OH SHIT! Well if that's the case, how about we get a table and I'll buy you another drink or two?'