It all started when daddy went to jail. Stealing is wrong, we all know that... getting caught stealing, going to jail and leaving your wife and a daughter just out of senior school high and dry - now that's worse. We lived out in the boondocks; more than a hundred miles from the nearest big city and fifteen from anywhere with more than a post office or general store. There were more farm machinery dealers than clothing stores in the vicinity and nearly everything we wore arrived by delivery from catalogues.
Pappy was the district manager for the national census so his job didn't really get busy but once a decade; he even managed to mess that one up. He started off charging the government a huge amount to rent an office, supposedly from his sister-in-law, but that wasn't any more than the shed across the dusty road that ran past our house. He got to spend a budget of something near four million dollars every decade on getting the forms delivered, collected and sorted. Of course, he cut corners and managed to skim a couple of hundred thousand dollars ... but he wasn't smart enough to stop himself from getting greedy. Then he got caught.
Mom was distraught, seemingly inconsolable; they couldn't find the money Pappy had stolen and had tied up the entire family behind so much red tape that, as my Uncle Clem has said, "She couldn't afford to park - never mind buy groceries without fifteen forms being filled out and passed through to the FBI in Washington for some faceless bastard to okay."
At the time there was only me living at home with my folks. I'd decided to take a year out before choosing which university and what subject; I felt like they were decisions that I should think long and hard about. My sister Patience was away doing her last year at university and my brother Marlon lived two hundred miles away. He was nearly thirty and worked in the state attorneys' office - it took less than a month for him to lose his job once Pappy got caught. A stain that large on your family's record isn't going to help in anyone's search for a new job.
Anyway, two weeks after he was fired, he was back living at home. Marlon pretty soon sent Uncle Clem and Aunt Pamela back to their own place out of state claiming that he'd see that the family got by during these times of trials and tribulation.
Times were hard; I got a little piecework, a pottery sent down truck loads of different small animal figurines and I painted them with the paints that they supplied, then attached two yards of string to them, bagged them individually ready for sale as decorative bathroom light pulls. The pay was enough (if I put in the hours) to cover a big chunk of the grocery and power bills. Marlon borrowed a petrol driven tiller and planted vegetables and a couple of rows of corn across half of the back yard that Mom and Pappy had spent years clearing of scrub. Mom mostly stayed at home and cried whilst seeming to spend her entire life cleaning and dusting the house over and over.
I did my work in the garage, because there was space to paint, dry and pack without cluttering up the house. It didn't rain but occasionally in January and February, so Mom's car and Marlon's pickup stayed in the yard; we couldn't afford the gasoline to go gallivanting around the county anyway so they didn't even move that often. I was pretty conscientious about the work and put in eight hours straight, no breaks -- I worked five or six days a week. Marlon seemed to spend the same amount of time, weeding and irrigating.
One Friday afternoon, six months after Poppa had started his prison term, I was painting some piglets when I ran out of black. It didn't take me but two strokes with the brush to realise that the box of paint pots labelled black were in fact a box of clear varnish - every single model needed black on it somewhere. At first I was pissed about the interruption. The pottery said that they'd get another one out that day for delivery on Monday and pay me a bonus because they were in the wrong.
Once I realised that it was someone else's fault I remember thinking, 'yahoo! A long weekend...' My plan was that I was going to get whammied on the bottle of blackberry wine I had been keeping, waiting for such an occasion. I changed out of my overalls and headed up to the house. From the position of the sun I guessed that it wasn't much past mid-afternoon and thought of maybe taking a walk down to the pool in the slow side of the river bend for a quick dip and lazy lounge on the banks under the huge cypress tree.
Lazy-m, my brother's hound, had fallen asleep in the kitchen doorway and was holding both the door and the screen open with his snoring and wheezing body... some guard dog.
"No Marlon... not here... what if your sister comes in?" I heard my momma's voice inside the house.
"She won't be in for more than two hours and anyway," I heard Marlon reply. "If anyone so much as touches the door handle, old Lazy-m will bay louder than a factory whistle. So just you hang fire right as you are... I'm fixing to get some of that sweet pussy that you're holding - and having you bent over the blanket box like this reminds me that maybe I'll let you take my spunk up your pretty little pooper. But only if my little slut momma asks nicely."
I couldn't believe my ears. The words were coming through the open door to the laundry room at the far end of the kitchen and I had to see. If I try to work out why I didn't just scream my disgust and leave the two of them to their depraved ways I just get confused, but I was curious; I wanted to watch. I crept up the length of the kitchen barely daring to breathe.
"No panties... you are a naughty little slut, Momma... and wetter than a hurricane. I don't think that you need any further warming up woman. Take my cock."
It looked as if Mom had been ironing sheets and had just put them away in the moth -proof blanket box when Marlon had come up behind her. I stood to one side of the door and leaned over to look into the laundry room. Turned at forty --five degrees opposite where I stood, Marlon was naked and standing in front of a pile of his clothes; mom's housecoat and top were to one side of them - she was naked too.
As I watched he pulled back from her; the skin on the muscles of his thighs and arse rippling, his hands were pulling her butt cheeks apart and as I watched he slowly pushed his dick back into her cunt. I should have been turning away but ic ouldn't take my eyes from my brothers man-meat, it was long and fat, really fat. Mom was flat on her face along the length of the cushion on top of the blanket box, her face turned away from me. She had hold of her tits, fingernails digging in and releasing as she clutched herself to the same rhythm as his slow thrusts.
"I love your big dick my baby... talk dirty to your slut mommy... then make me beg you to come up my dirty hole," she was moaning. "Fill my arse with your jism... oh god... you are so much bigger than your uncle! You're even bigger than your nasty old aunt's black strap-on... oh god yes... I love it. I love being your slut mommy... push it all the way in, I want to feel your balls slapping against my clit... ooh my god it's so big!" I guess Marlon couldn't help but aim to please because he sure started to put extra effort into the way he was slamming it to our mom, all the way in, harder and faster. " Yeah, yeah, fuck me with your horse cock baby... make my cunt yours... oh god... oh god yeah you're making your dirty slut mommy come... yeah oh yeah... come with me baby... ram your big cock into my tight little arsehole... fill my dirt box with your spunk."
In an instant Marlon pulled out of her, his cock jerking back upwards to slap against his stomach - its head was higher than his belly button. He reached into her gaping pussy with three fingers making a circular movement, scooping out some of her juice. He then used the three fingers to lube up her back door with her own cum. He forced them beyond the crinkled entrance, once... twice ...then out to be replaced by the huge head of his uncircumcised cock. His hands gripped her butt cheeks, pulling her back onto his magnificent manhood, slowly but unstopping until his balls were slapping against and into the gaping cunt he had just vacated. She threw her head back and I could see the passing of exquisite pain over her features that were replaced thrust by thrust with ones of ecstasy.
"Take this you dirty slut - take your son's incestuous spunk up your poop chute. Oh god ... oh my god Momma! You are one dynamite fuck. I'm gonna come in your arse..."
He let go of her butt cheeks and grabbed her hair, pulling her backwards; she opened her eyes - and saw me. Before she could think about what she'd glimpsed the feeling of his cock spurting inside the dirty place that my brother had put it, made her come again... she shook her head and screamed as he grunted time after time.
