A New Beginning Pt. 01

October 31, 1912. I, Jacob Moses Flannery was forced out of the warm confines of my mother, Harriet Flannery's, womb. She said I never cried that day. Nor did I through most of the following 18 years. I mostly just stayed to myself.

Life in those days was hard, yet simple. We were country folks. Trying to pry a living out of a 160 acre patch of land nestled in the East Texas river bottoms in Rusk county along the Attoyac river. We plowed a few acres for corn. A few more for Purple Ribbon cane to make syrup out of. There was a big garden. We had a few hogs that ran the bottoms. Chickens. A couple milk cows. It was work sun up to sun down. But, we made out.

I was the youngest of three children. Mama had me late. She was 40 when she dropped me out of her belly. Papa was, too. Maybe a might older. He never liked me none. Always whooping me for no reason at all that I could ever make sense of. I just got used to it. It always made him madder that I'd never cry. I'd just stand there and take it. Soon enough he would give out, and I'd go about my chores laughing at him.

My older brother, Turner, he run off along about the end of July in 1915. He joined up with the Army and never looked back. Same with my sister. She ran off a year or two before that with the preacher's son when she was about 14 I believe. We all supposed that's what happened, as they both come up missing the same night.

That sure left me in a pickle, sure enough. I had to cover more work to make up for Turner taking off like he did. But, I'd done sized up life pretty good by the time I hit the mark of my 18th year on this earth. It didn't care none at all about you. You either did, or by god, you did without. I reckon the world had about flung the chunk anyhow. Something about a stock market crashing. Whatever a stock market was.

I just did the only thing I knew. I worked. Then I'd go in of an evening and get cleaned up for supper. My body was strong as a bull at 18. I stood a pair of inches over six feet in my sock feet. Not that I ever had any socks. I just put my boots on over my bare feet. I tipped the scales down at the mercantile at a touch over 200 pounds. My shoulders were wide as an axe handle. My hips narrow. My hands were hard and calloused. My dark hair hung down on my shoulders. My arms were muscled from wrestling' logs out of the woods. We used long crosscut saws and axes in them days.

Papa and mama never did get over the other young'uns taking off like they did. It made papa even meaner, if that was even possible. One Saturday morning in November. I took down the rifle off the old brass hooks it hung on. It was an old.58 caliber Springfield rifle used back in the War Between The States. It still shot true for the most part.

Anyhow, I was out and about down among the hardwoods on the river. I spotted a fat old doe that I'd seen a few times. She done got to where she never dropped fawns no more. So, I took her home that day.

I was down at the barn skinning her out when I saw papa up there staring at me. I just kept working. Putting the quarters of meat in the wash tub. I covered it up with old tater sacks and set about cleaning that old rifle. You had to swab out the barrel mighty good, lessen it'd rust. Black powder was like that.

I put the quarters in a tater sack, slung it over my shoulder, picked up that old rifle and traipsed up to the house. We had a ramshackle old Dog Run log cabin we lived in. A pair of fair sized log cabins with an open air space between them. With the roof covering it. I hung them quarters up in the breeze way off the rafters so the chill fall air could cool them down. I stepped in and hung the rifle up. Then was headed back out the door.

Papa spoke to me. His voice thick with liquor. He'd been nipping at the jug all day. "Boy, you clean that gun good?

I stopped and looked back at him. "Yes sir."

I started off again. Looking around for mama. But she always stayed in the bedroom when papa hit the 'shine jug. It made him mean and more than once I seen him take a strap to mama.

"You just hold on there, boy. I ain't about done with you yet."

I turned back around.

"That was a doe you was skinning, weren't it?"

"Yes sir."

"What I done told you about shooting does?"

"Not to."

"Yep. So, why'd you do it then?"

"I'd seen her around the last couple years and she ain't had no fawns on her. So, I figured to put her to use one last time."

"Ya did, did ya?"

He got up off his chair and grabbed the strop off the wall, coming at me. When he drew back to light into me, I figured I had about all of it I was gonna take. I stepped in and caught his wrist half way through the swing. I reached out with my other hand and jerked it loose from him. I stepped over and hung it back up. Never saying a word. I just stared at him in the eyes until he looked away. He knew then and there I wasn't taking no more.

He just spun around and took a long pull of the jug, and hollered at mama.

"Woman, you get in here and fix supper!"

I went out to the pump in the back yard and stripped down to nothing. I hung my overalls on the pump head and pumped a bucket of water. I lifted and dumped it over my head. I was soaping up with the chunk of lye soap when I looked up and saw mama looking out the window over the sink at me. Something in her eyes I'd never seen before. I couldn't make heads nor tails out of it, so I went back to scrubbing.

I drew up another bucket and dumped it over me. That water was ice cold and the air was even colder. I looked at the sky. It was filled with foreboding gray clouds low in the sky above the trees. I wiped down with an old piece of canvas feed sack. I drew up another bucket of water, dunked my shirt in it and soaped it up. Washing the weeks worth of work and sweat out of it. I wrung it out and headed in. I went to the wood stove in the main room and hung it up on a nail driven in the wall behind it to dry.

I opened the door on the stove and stoked up the fire. The wood box was empty. I looked over at papa, filled with disgust at his drunken laziness. I went out and got an arm load of wood I'd split that morning before. It was getting colder out, and starting to sleet. I finished filling up the wood box. Then went back out and got a double arm load and took it to the kitchen. A couple more and it was full up.

Mama turned to me, "Thank you, honey." She kissed me on the forehead.

I looked in her eyes and nodded. She was showing her 58 years now. The crows feet around her eyes. The wrinkles around her full lips. Her wide hips and sagging breasts under the thread bare dress she wore. Her belly soft and swollen slightly from birthing three young'uns.

I went to the table and sat down. I looked at papa, but he refused to look at me. I settled my gaze on mama. Watching the way all her parts moved under the thin dress she wore. Her big, sagging breasts hanging down on her belly. Starting off her chest kinda narrow, then filling out to near about the size of a sweet, ripe honey dew melon. They was swaying this way and that while she fiddled about frying up deer steaks and taters. She walked to the flour bin and bent over. Her hind end looking mighty pleasing. She stood up and cast a look back and caught me looking at her.

I turned away quick, my face flushing hot with shame for letting her catch me. Truth is, I'd been kinda looking her over more often than not these days. My pecker would swell up when I'd catch a glimpse of her taking a bath or what not.

Now, when I said my pecker swole up, I mean it swole up good. It was about a foot long and big around, at least, as mama's wrist. I felt it moving around down there, watching her hind end swinging when she walked. My, but she was something else.

Now, I ain't never been with a woman in any kinda way. I'd get all tangled up in myself when a girl paid any mind to me. I always heard them talk about how good looking I was and such. I reckon there was something to it, the way I'd catch them gals down at the church house, or over to town when we went in for groceries looking me over. Not only them young gals, but I'd seen more than a few of the married women cutting their eyes at me. Why, Mrs Johnson down to the mercantile, she was always fussing around over me. Earning a look of disapproval from her husband. She was about mama's age, give or take.

I'd always have to hurry off whenever she got around me for too long. She wore them dresses what fit mighty tight around her figure. Her breasts just fighting to bust loose. Her perfume smelled like a honey suckle vine in the hot summer sun. It made my pecker go to bucking and slatting around like a pissed off jack mule with a bumble bee stinging at his hind end.

Mama finished up the gravy and sat everything on the table. Papa took another pull off the jug. Then set in, not waiting on anything or anybody. I forked up some deer steaks and taters piling it high on my plate. Ladled up the gravy and spread it over it all. I buttered up a piece of fresh baked bread and set in to eat. I finished up, sopping my plate clean with a chunk of bread. I took my plate to the sink and looked outside. Everything was iced up. It was sleeting hard, the cold wind blowing to beat hell. I grabbed up two buckets and trotted out to the pump and drew up water to heat for mama to bathe with. She always bathed on a Saturday. Then I toted in a few more arm loads of wood.

I trotted down to the barn. Grabbed the buckets and filled them up and topped off the water for the cows. Went up to the loft and forked down some straw and hay to their stall. I went to our mule, did the same for him. Finished up with the chickens. All the stock was warm and snuggled in. Ready for a long, cold night.

I trotted back up to the house and grabbed several arm loads of wood and stacked it by the door to be handy later. Then went in. I stoked the fire and topped off the fire box. Put the buckets of water on the eyes to heat. Then got mama's tub from the closet and sat it in front of the stove. I heard papa yelling at mama.

"Get that dress off and get on the bed, woman, before I give you a damned good thrashing."

I heard a slap, followed by mama whimpering. I felt something cold rise up in me. Something dangerous.

I walked to their bedroom. Mama was sitting on the floor. Her dress torn. An angry welt on her cheek where papa had back handed her. Her heavy breasts hanging loose out of her ruined dress. Tears flowing down her cheeks.

She looked up at me. Papa spun around and saw me standing there, my eyes cold, my hard, calloused hands balled up into fists.

He took another long pull of the jug. "What you want, boy?" His voice wavering.

I just stared at him a long spell. Then I stepped to him. I looked down at mama, and spoke. "That make you feel good inside? Hitting her like that. Treating her like some tramp instead of the gift she is?"

"You just mind your own affairs, boy, or I'll..."

"You'll what? Whoop me, too? Well, get on with it then. Just have at it. Ain't nothing stopping you.."

"I'm warning you, boy." He drew his hand back.

I slapped him. Hard. It shook him to his toes, that slap did.

"I'm waiting."

"Why you worried about her for anyways? She's old and dried up. Ain't good for nothing but cooking and fucking."

I drew back again. He cowered down. Stepping back. He was beaten and he knew it.

"Aw hell, you can have the old bitch. I'm through throwing my life away keeping her up. Hell, boy, you fuck her. I seen the way you look at her. Your own mama. Well there she is, have at her. I'm sleeping in the other room." He walked out carrying his jug.

I went and picked her up off the floor. I put my arm around her shoulders and led her to the kitchen. Sitting her down at the table gentle like, I lit the coal oil lantern, turned it down low to save on oil, then added a few candles because I liked the way the shadows danced around as they burned.

I poured the hot water in the tub, then ran outside, refilled the buckets, put then on the stove. I stoked the fire up and opened the damper all the way. Then went and picked mama up and sat her down on my lap and held her close to me. My arms hard with work hardened muscle surrounding her soft body. Her face nestled against my broad, muscular chest. Her womanly scent flowing to my nose, natural, tinged with a slight sweaty, musky quality to it that caused my pecker to start stirring around, getting almighty uncomfortable under her broad behind.

I felt her turn into me more. Her left breast against me. I felt her breathing grow heavy. Causing her breast to rise and fall against me.

I heard the water on the stove start to simmer. I held her close as I stood up. and softly put her down on the chair. I went and poured the water in the tub.

Turning back to her, I reach out and pulled her to her feet, then gently slid her ruined dress off her shoulders, letting it slide down her body, leaving her naked before me. Her long red hair braided, so I untied the ribbon she had around the tip and unbraided it. Letting it flow across her shoulders and down her back.

I took her by the hand and helped her step into the big copper tub. My eyes focused on her private parts. A full mat of curly red hair covered the nexus of her loins. I felt my pecker twitch and jerk.

She slowly eased down into the hot water. She looked up at me as I picked up a chunk of soap and lathered it up good, then set about gently bathing her, my hands moving slowly about her body. I bathed her heavy breasts, soft in my hands. I felt her swollen nipples, hard against my palm. She made to stand up, so I helped her. The water running down her body. Then she stood there, breathing heavy, waiting on me to finish what I'd started. I soaped her legs, working around to her hind end, then up between her legs. Her privates was hot and wet, and it didn't feel like no bath water. While I was bathing her down there, she started kinda jerking and shaking, her legs went to quivering like nothing I'd ever saw before, and it scared me some.

I took to pull back, but she grabbed my hand and pulled it tight up between her legs and went to grinding her self against my palm. Her little whimpers all the sudden turned into a moan of sorts. Her whole body just seized up and I felt a heavy flow of something hot and wet flow out of her. Her legs just seemed to give out and I grabbed her and eased her back down in the water.

She closed her eyes and sat there a long minute. I'll tell you right now, my pecker was harder'n wood pecker lips. I had nary an idea what I was doing. I was just following my instincts, kinda.

Mama stirred around, picking up the bucket, dunked it in the water and poured it over her head. Then made to stand up again. I helped her up, my pecker jerking in protest as her breasts set to swaying around. I held her hand as she stepped out. She reached for the fancy cotton towel she kept just for her bath time.

She worked that towel around over her mature body. I'd had about all I could take.

"Mama, I need to go to my room now." I was gonna have to jerk up a storm to settle it down tonight.

She shook her head, "No son, come with me."

She took me by the hand and we headed to her and papa's room. We went in and she she pushed me back onto the big feather mattress. She pulled off my boots, had me stand up and unhitched my overalls. Slid my shirt off. She let my overalls drop to the floor, bunching up around my feet. My pecker sticking straight up like that pump handle out yonder. It was near as hard as the cast iron it was made of, too.

She looked down at my pecker, it all swole up, jerking around, leaking something or other out of it.

Her breath kinda caught in her throat when she took it in her warm hand. I jerked at her touch, more clear stuff seeping out.

She laid on the bed and spread her legs wide, her breasts laying low and wide on the sides of her rib cage, and held out her arms out, inviting me to mount her.

I crawled up between her legs, her arms going around my neck, pulling me down to her lips. She kissed me. Taking charge on account I ain't never kissed a gal before, much less a mature woman like her. Her tongue slid into my mouth, working around. She pushed up on me, making room for her hand to slide down and grab me. She moved it around to the opening of her birth hole and wrapped her legs around my hips, pulling me into her heated, wet, velvety smooth insides.

I felt the hole I came out of 18 years ago clamp up on me, tight. Well, that done it. My pecker went to cumming inside her. I swear, if I didn't dump a gallon inside mama, I didn't put an ounce. I lay still, enjoying the feel of her warm body under me. I rolled off her. Holding her close. It was cold in this bedroom. We had been so hot and bothered, we ain't noticed it was freezing in here.

The wind was blowing something terrible out there. You could here the freezing rain pelting at the window glass. I got up, mama followed me and took off to the kitchen to clean herself up. I went to my bedroom and grabbed the quilts and pillow off my bed and took them back to mama's room. I laid them out over the ones already there. I crawled under the covers on her side. Warming it up for her.

She came back, still naked as the day she was born, her heavy breasts just going at it. I slid over so she could pile in next to me. She slid in and wiggled her hind end up against me and pulled the covers up tight. Before long, it was toasty warm, snuggled down it that old feather bed, piled up with them quilts. We drifted off to sleep to the sound of that storm outside.

Morning came all too soon. I opened my eyes, listening. All I could hear was the wind outside and mama's gentle breathing. I pulled her in close to me, her naked warmth feeling awful good. My hand found her breasts and I gently cupped as much as I could. I let my hand slide down to her belly. It's swell feeling kinda natural in my hand.

Mama stirred a bit. Wiggling her fanny up against me. Causing me to get a rise down yonder. She reached in between us, wrapping her warm hand around my hardness. She let out a little moan and rolled over, forcing her legs apart under the weight of the quilts. When she was situated, she grabbed me, pulling me over on top of her. She reached down and guided me home.

I slid into her body, relishing her wet warmth. I started sliding in and out of her. The size of me filling her up right nicely. Slow and gentle, I took her. I kept sliding into her until she bunched up and let loose more of her flowing wet heat. It enveloped my pecker like a warm fog that settles in the bottoms along the river. I felt myself go to jerking inside her and my sperm came flooding out, filling her up again. She worked her hips, milking me for all I had to give.

Spent, I rolled over and kissed her gently, relishing her beauty. She smiled at me as I slid out of bed and dressed. I spotted her robe and I slid it under the covers next to her so it'd be warm when she put it on. I hurried through the house and stoked the fire up in the kitchen. Then went to the main room and got that stove going hot. I noticed there weren't any wood missing from what I brought in last night. I walked through the house looking for papa. Then out to the barn. No sight of him there, either. I looked around the side and the wagon was gone. I went back to the stalls, the mule was gone, too.

I looked in the old cedar box by the door. Papa kept a big old buffalo robe and a bed roll in it. They were gone. So he had left. 'About figures, I thought. Took the mule and wagon, too.'

I went back to the milk cows, wasn't but one giving milk. I let them out while I cleaned their stall. I broke the ice on their water trough and cleaned it out. I went to the well and drew up water and refilled it. Then I forked a fair amount of bedding straw down, followed by filling up the hay manger for them to eat. I finished them up with a bait of corn.