Author's note: This is a work of fiction. To my knowledge no people ever existed who did these things. While many of my stories have a kernel of fact that I build from, this one does not. It came straight out of my twisted mind, sparked by a comment on another story about liking that my characters were not all young and beautiful. In this story, all characters are over eighteen by the time they have sex. When you read this please comment on any problems you spot and also vote. This is the only reward the authors get for our work. Of course, if you happen to like it, a little pat on the back comment will be accepted.
THIS REVISION OF MOMMA AND ME IS A RESULT OF YOUR VARIOUS COMMENTS. THANKS, I HOPE YOU LIKE IT.
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I was rummaging through my old storage shed trying to decide what to keep and what to take to the dump. I had finally corralled my fifteen year old son long enough to have him help. With his full schedule of sports and school, that was no small feat.
"What the heck is this, Dad?"
I went to the back corner where he'd uncovered a relic from the past; an old seventeen inch RCA TV.
"Here, I'll load it up and run it to the dump with the rest of the stuff," he said.
"Naw, I don't think we'll get rid of it. It was the first TV my family ever owned. I spent many hours watching ED Sullivan, The Hit Parade, and The Life of Riley on that thing."
"Huh? What were they?"
I had to explain that life didn't start with MTV and Josie and the Pussycats, or any of the other shows that he and his sister thought they couldn't live without watching in living color. I had brought it over from the old place after Momma died and my brother, who'd inherited the house, wanted to remodel.
I'd covered it in plastic and before long enough junk was piled around it, I forgot it was there. I hadn't seen it or even thought about it in years, but now memories flooded back and I was a young boy again.
The year was nineteen fifty four and I waited anxiously for the TV man to deliver the set and install the antenna. In those days the reception in our rural area was spotty at best and the Yagi Array antenna had to be as high as possible; in our case it sat upon a fifty feet extending antenna that was mounted atop the house.
I could hardly wait for them to finish, but when they finished we had the best picture in the area. It was so much better the neighbors gathered at our house to watch Saturday Night Wrestling. Daddy was a grumpy, hard to get along with man, who soon got tired of them keeping him up until midnight every Saturday and despite Momma's best efforts managed to upset all our friends. After that they never visited again, leaving us pretty isolated on our backwoods farm.
Not having anyone around didn't bother Daddy at all. Me and my older brother had each other, but Momma had only Daddy and he was such a tyrant none of us wanted to be around him.
Television and school became my only tie to the civilized world while Momma had only television. Daddy didn't want her to leave the house except to work the fields or when he took her to town shopping for supplies. Momma really enjoyed watching TV in what we called the den, but was really just a little closed in porch room on the opposite end of the house away from the bedrooms. That was her only source of enjoyment in life except for me and my older brother, Tommy.
The three of us were really close. When Daddy was hunting or fishing, Momma would usually bake something we liked. My favorite was Caramel Cake but Tommy always wanted her to make a concoction called Chewies. Tommy got his wish more often since the cake took longer and Momma wanted to get out of the kitchen and spend time with us.
We'd do all kinds of things. Things like seeing who could score twenty one first, while shooting basketball goals, or playing board games while sitting in the shade of our big Chinaberry tree. Sometimes, if it was extremely hot, the three of us would walk the half mile to the creek which ran through our property. It made a great swimming hole and some of my best memories involved our time there.
I remember once, when Daddy would be gone all day, Momma called us from our horseshoe game.
"Boys," She said, "It's just too hot to do anything. Why don't we pack a picnic basket and go down to the creek?"
"Yeaa!" We rushed to help her get ready. While I got a couple fishing canes ready, Tommy helped Momma get the basket packed. We traveled very light, a couple towels and the food, along with the fishing gear was enough to lug a half mile. We'd all swim in our shorts, and then just let them dry on our bodies. I liked that, for sometimes Momma would wear something that would be almost transparent when wet.
When she and Tommy came out of the house, I could see this was one of those days. I could also see Tommy had a tent pole pushing at the front of his shorts. He kept it until we were almost to the creek.
The first thing we did was jump in the water to cool off. We laughed and horsed around like wild Indians and Momma joined right in. She grabbed me, trying to duck me under, but I managed to slip away.
"I'm going fishing." I didn't like anybody sticking my head underwater, so I got a cane and moved a ways upstream where their fooling around wouldn't scare the fish. I could still see Momma and Tommy as they wrestled around in the water. They both seemed to really enjoy it. I could see why Tommy did, his hands were all over Momma, not blatant of course, but I was sure he got some really good feels.
