This is a tale of a young man who learns from an older woman that he was made for servicing cocks.
I was in my junior year at Amway University majoring in pyramid structured sales when I was unexpectedly called out of my elective gender studies 302 course. Escorted to the dean's office I was given the terrible news that my mom had been involved in a serious automobile accident. She was not likely to survive.
Rushing to the airport, I was able to catch a flight from New Hampshire-Boston regional airport to Charlotte, NC where I quickly rented a car and drove to Thurmond, SC speeding to Wallace Hospital. There I saw mom in ICU. The doctor arrived shortly after I did. He advised me that she was on life support and would be until such time as her ventilator was deactivated.
"It's your decision son," he said with a sad expression. "I would recommend you think it over, maybe talk with family before deciding. I will, however, tell you that she is, at this time brain dead."
Family? I had no other family. My mom got pregnant when she was a young teenager. It was said by some that we grew up together. Her parents disowned her for bringing shame upon their house. They disowned her and by default, me.
Their precious house of Deech was shamed?. What a crock of shit.
My grandfather, Emmett Linwood Deech amounted to absolutely nothing. I mean aside from weekends in jail for public intoxication, the furthest he's been from Thurmond was the sixty days he spent in the county lockup for assaulting a cop. The unlucky officer had the misfortune to come upon grandpa one night as he sat on a curb in a puddle of his own piss crying. Nearly passed out from the rot-gut he swilled with money he earned by being on welfare, when the officer attempted to assist him, he was cursed and sucker punched for his efforts.
Summarily charged, tried, and jailed, he spent two months trying to figure out where he was and how he got there. Upon his release, the county bus dropped him off at his favorite bar where he proceeded to pick up where he had left off.
Grandma was another piece of work. Ida Claire Fazon was her maiden name. She went by Ida Fazon Deech. Nearly toothless, she was so fat that when she dropped her panties to her ankles, her pussy was still in them. So fat is she that she needs someone to wipe her huge ass because her arms can't reach it. She had gotten pregnant with mom when she was 14 and the rumor is that grandpa is actually her cousin. Her extended family were share-croppers and moonshiners. None of them attended school beyond 6th grade. Those not imprisoned for bootlegging are on the public dole.
And they had the unmitigated gall to disavow mom because she carried me unwed.
Family? The closest thing I had to family besides mom was Connie, my mom's bestie. She and mom were much alike. Both were attracted to the wrong kind of men. Both "dated" frequently. I say dated in quotes because a fast-food cheeseburger or pizza and a six pack was all that was required for mom, and I suspect Connie as well, to bring their new boyfriends home and fuck until sun up.
By the time I turned 18 and left for college, mom was 35 and Connie was 42.
Now being raised by a single mother who earned money by waiting tables in the same dive grandpa drank his life away in, I lacked proper nourishment. Food was a scarce commodity in our home. I grew up skinny and neglected in the evenings. My teachers in elementary and throughout high school saw something in me. I was urged, even helped by caring teachers to succeed.
Earning a partial ride at Amway U, I left mom, Connie, and town with a heavy heart. Sad to leave the only person who ever loved me, I still had hopes for my future and maybe I could drag mom away from her life as one of the town's two cum-dumps.
Listen, I'm not judging mom or Connie. Women like them are in every city and town. It was both my misfortune and good fortune to be the son of one of them.
I left the hospital, went home by way of the liquor store, and agonized for hours. I cried and paced and drank myself into a stupor trying to decide whether I should pull the plug of pray for a miracle.
Fate intervened and the next day I got the phone call telling me the sad news. "There was nothing we could do, son. I'm sorry." That was that. All that was left to do was to arrange a burial paid for by donations from the very charitable folks from the local church that had failed to recruit mom into their congregation no matter how hard they tried.
The Deech royalty didn't show up that rainy mid-afternoon Friday as mom was laid to rest. Connie looked on tearfully as the preacher quickly went through his scripted eulogy. Mom, being mom, there was really nothing much to say. Everyone at her funeral; the preacher, me, Connie, her boss at the bar, knew how she lived. It was over quickly.
They may have known how she lived and how she conducted herself. But they had no idea of her capacity to love. And man did she love me. Always happy with me. Never punishing me for infractions that all kids are guilty of, mom spoiled me with love and tenderness.
Until she went to work for the night that is.
Cut-off denim shorts that bared nearly half of her lower buttocks, semi-high heels, a halter top was her uniform of the day, every day. She and Connie waited tables and allowed themselves to be groped and seduced by the local males. Those two ladies always had hopeful suitors waiting for them at closing time with a six pack beside him in the front seat of their pickup truck. Married or otherwise, any man's attention and not so subtle intentions were always welcomed.
After the final grave-side amen, I walked home in the drizzle feeling all alone in the world and missing mom so. My heart ached and my tears flowed.
As a mother, besides never having enough food in the house, she was great. There was never a day that I didn't know she loved me. And now she was gone. The empty space within me that she once occupied would, like our refrigerator, never be filled.
I did a detour on the way home to stop by the package store again and buy a couple bottles of inexpensive whiskey. I had every intention to drown my sorrows.
Once home I stripped off my wet clothes and drank straight whiskey from the bottle. I knew I'd regret it but at the time getting drunk on my ass seemed to be the only way I could cope with the pain from the loss of mom. I choked every drink but was able to stop myself.
"Oh, my darlin, we have to get you cleaned up."
Connie had found me lying drunk in the small living room in only my underpants covered in snot and having pissed myself.
I was completely naked when I came to my senses. Connie had prepared a bath for me. She had pulled off my nasty underpants and helped me into the warm water.
"There you are," she said with a smile. "I thought you might be passed out for the night."
"Wha, huh?"
"It's okay darlin," she said as she washed my face and chest with an old wash cloth that had seen better days. "I've seen you naked plenty of times. No need to be bashful around your ole Connie."
But I was embarrassed. Here she was looking directly at my penis which was decidedly too small for a man my age. That and the lack of any real body hair totally exposed my shame to Connie's experienced eye.
The fact is that I hadn't been with a girl before. Yes, this was a small town and yes, everyone knows everybody else's business. But when everyone knows that my mom was an easy lay, it was no secret that I was born a bastard. The town's people tended to keep me at arm's length. That included the local girls. Connie is the first woman to see my privates.
"Come sweetie, let's get you dried and in some warm clothes."
She helped me out of the bath and toweled me off. She took her time drying my bottom and my privates. Then leading me into my bedroom she asked where my clothes were.
"I left school in such a hurry that I didn't have time to pack."
She left, telling me to wait there. A minute later she came back holding one of mom's little transparent robes and matching panties. "This is all she had that might fit you johnnie. Let's put these on before you catch cold."
"Um, Connie. I can't wear those. It's a woman's robe and underwear. They're mommas."
