tagIncest/TabooMoonshine, Mama and Me

Moonshine, Mama and Me

byoediplex©

1963, on a side route off the highway from Washington D.C. to Miami

It was one of those hot, muggy nights that seemed to make even breathing a chore. The crickets were playing their little violins and the katydids were joining in full force. I was lying in my bed trying to sleep, hoping that the occasional flicker of lightning off in the distance might indicate that we were going to get some rain to cool us off later in the night.

Our motel, "The Straight Flush" was filled, so mom had turned on the "NO VACANCY" sign out front. The door between my room and the hall leading down to the motel office was slightly ajar so I could hear the mumble of the TV and could just see the dim flicker of the bluish -white glow coming from the darkened office. Mom was obviously watching TV. We weren't rich and only owned the one TV for ourselves, but it didn't really matter as we could only get two decent channels on it and most of them shows didn't interest me.

It was around ten o'clock and it felt like it was still around ninety degrees outside. I was naked and my pajamas were lying in a wadded up heap on the floor beside my bed. It was just too damned hot to wear them.

I was wondering if I would ever be able to leave Deer Valley and find a life of my own. I'm eighteen and I'd made it through the tenth grade before I had to quit school to help mom run the motel. High school graduation, much less college didn't seem to be on my radar scope, so I went along doing what I could to help mom and I get along. My pa was never around to help out with what needed doing anyhow.

He'd always been a bit of a drifter, a gambler, and a general ne'er-do-well. Amazingly, he'd won the motel in a poker game up in Atlanta with a - you guessed it - a straight flush. But he would avoid anything which remotely resembled work, so that left running the motel up to mom and me. I was pretty good with my hands and did ninety percent of the maintenance and helped out mom with the linen, room cleaning and just about anything else that came along.

Now it was rumored that Pa wasn't exactly monogamous. Monogamous? Yeah, I know, that's a pretty big word for a guy with an tenth-grade education, but I'd decided that if I couldn't go to school anymore, I could improve myself on my own. Every night I'd take my dictionary and look up five words I didn't know the meaning of and commit them to my vocabulary.

Oh, yeah, monogamous? It means like the practice of having a sexual relationship with only one partner. Now my luscious blond mom seemed to know about pa's wayward ways, because I'd hear them quarrelling about it sometimes, but every time I came around they'd stop arguing and start talking about something else. I couldn't for the life of me see what mom saw in pa and I don't know why she put up with it all.

Now the Straight Flush Motel wasn't any Holiday Inn, but mom and I kept the place clean and in good repair. The motel was out on Highway 371 on the edge of Deer Valley and had ten units in it. We rarely received a complaint and most of the little cards the guests filled out after they stayed gave us an above average rating.

Mom and I were able to eke out a living of sorts. There always seemed to be just enough money to get by on, but it seemed like every time mom was able to put a little aside for a rainy day, that old fart would show up and we'd be back right where we started. He'd take the money and head off on some new get-rich quick scheme he'd come up with.

Now mom weren't no Marilyn Monroe, but she was pretty. Maybe she was a little wide across the stern, and had a bit of a paunch, but it didn't take away from her other good looks. At thirty-eight, if there was any flaw in mom's personality maybe it was her vanity for her big breasts. I don't even know that you could even call it a flaw, but she did seem to go out of her way to show them off. Not that I'm complaining now. She'd wear low cut blouses, tight sweaters, even go braless on occasion which just wasn't heard of in our neck of the woods.

Her obvious vanity wasn't lost on my pop either. Hell, maybe that's why he'd married her as he was always eyeing them and grabbing a groping when he didn't think I was looking. On one of his infrequent visits, Pa had had a couple of glasses of moonshine and we were just finishing up supper. Mom was wearing one of her lowest-cut blouses and the majority of her big; creamy-pink tits were on display as usual. I found myself sneaking a peak at them every time I thought no one was watching me. Now I don't think of myself as a pervert or anything, but hell, they were tits! And they were hanging out right in front of me. What was I supposed to do?

"Look at all that baby fat," I heard my Pa tipsily snicker as he stared at mom's boobs.

"Clarence Hatfield, you watch your tongue. Not in front of Chet," she huffed, shuffling over to the sink with her hands full of dishes.

"Baby Fat, get it, Boy," Pa guffawed. " Baby . . . fat."

No, I didn't get it, but I guess that he was insinuating some kind of connection between babies, tits, and fat.

Mom sure didn't think it was funny and was back across the room almost before the words were out of his mouth. Her arm flew back and she slapped him on the cheek so hard his head went flying back. I was stunned. I'd never seen my mother retaliate to any of Dad's crude, coarse language or jokes and Lord knows there was plenty of opportunities for that.

Angrily shoving his chair back, Dad flew out of it with his hand fisted and arm drawn back threateningly.

"You didn't have no cause to go and do that—" he snarled and I could see the muscles in his arm tightening in preparation to swing.

Reaching over, I grasped hold of his wrist to stop the swing. Now maybe I didn't have any gym to work out in, but I'd made me a set of weights out of cement and pipes and I worked out next to the shed out back where we kept all the motel cleaning supplies and stuff. I worked out every day if I could and even though if I had to say so myself, I was pretty bulked out.

The moonshine had apparently loosened Pa's tongue and he didn't seem to care what he said as he turned and glared at me.

"You in cahoots with her now?" he barked, trying to jerk his arm away from my hand, but I was too strong for him and held on.

"Just shut up, Clarence!" Mom scowled, taking a step back away from him just in case.

"I get it now," he snorted, straining to pull his arm away from my clutching hand. "You and him, huh? The two of you have something going on, don't you? Hell, I shoulda seen it, the way you're fawning all over him all the time."

"Are you crazy?" Mom shouted, now drawing her arm back for another swing. "He's our son!"

Realizing that the situation was rapidly spiraling out of control, I stepped in between them and spun Dad around until he was facing the door.

"Pa, why don't you just disappear for a while," I told him, giving him a little shove toward the door. "You know, 'til things cool down a little."

Mom said,"Yeah, get out of here—I don't want to see any more of your ugly face tonight," she added from behind me.

"Shit, I'm outta here. I can see when I'm not wanted," the shithead growled, taking a step toward the door. "Probably want me outta here so you two can crawl in bed and fuck, don't you?"

"Clarence, I'm gonna kill you—" Mother screamed out at him as she started around me to get at him.

"Fuck you — and you, too kid . . ." Dad yelled back at us as I threw out my arms to stop mom while he jerked the door open and stepped outside, slamming it behind him. As I flung my arm out, luck or fortune or destiny or whatever would have it, my limb smacked right across mom's big tits as she moved. As both of us stood there staring at the door, I didn't move. Her tits were so soft, so giving as I continued to push my arm against them.

The silence was deafening! Then I heard my mother crying.

"I'm sorry," she blubbered as I watched her turn to face me. "It was the moonshine talking. He didn't mean it."

The enormity of what he had just said came crashing down on me like a ton of bricks. Mom and I? Fucking? The thought of that ever happening was preposterous! It had never crossed my mind . . . until now!

"Uh, okay. It's all right—" I mumbled, trying to wrap my reeling brain around what Pa had just said.

"No, it's not all right. He shouldn't have said that. How could he even think that?" she fumed.

Strangely, pop's remark changed everything between mom and me. I found myself looking at mom in an entirely different and unsettling way. Hell, I told you that I was eighteen and if a minute went by that I wasn't thinking about sex, it was a rare one.

. . .

All that had transpired about a week ago and things had been kind of tense between the two of us since then.

Mom usually wore a flannel gown at night, but with tonight so hot, I'd noted that she'd opted for her little baby-doll pajamas. I'd got just a glimpse of her in it earlier, it was one of the ones she wore when Pa was home and you could almost see right through the translucent material. And what I'd seen was enough to make me want to see more. I'd been sneaking around tonight and trying to catch another peek and mom had caught on, but she still neglected to wear her thin housecoat over it.

So, here I was lying in my bed without any clothes on, trying to picture mom naked; meanwhile she sat in the office next door unaware that I was slowly stroked my seemingly always-present hard-on and wanting her. I was imagining a titty-fuck. Her sitting on my legs with her beautiful bountiful boobs sandwiching my boner between them and the royal eight inch scepter I sported about to spurt!

Just then, I heard the motel intercom buzz which threw me off my rhythm. I heard mom talking with someone. I couldn't hear what she was saying, but I knew that it had to be one of the guests. It was late for someone to call.

Wondering what was going on, I heard mom hang up. Suddenly the light went on in the office; before I knew what was going on the door to my room came swinging open.

"Mom!" I gasped when I saw mother standing in the doorway staring at me. I was mortified as I jerked my hand away from my cock and grabbed for the covers. I could see that Mother's eyes were locked on my peter as it stuck up out of my groin long and stiff. I was somehow able to pull the covers over and hide my cock as Mother gave out a soft, embarrassed cough.

"Uh, sorry, uh, Chet, uh, one of the, uh, guests called. He, uh, he said that the ice maker is out of ice and he needs some. Uh, could you, could you run down to the Seven-Eleven and pick up a bag for him?" she asked me, timidly stepping over to my bed and holding out a couple of dollars to me. As she did, I could see the outline of her body silhouetted through the thin material of her baby-doll pajamas by the light which shone behind her.

"Uh, sure, mom," I mumbled, leaning forward and taking the money from her. As I did, I saw her glance down at the lump of my cock jutting up against the sheet before she turned and stepped back over to the door.

"Thank you," I heard her say as she stepped out and closed the door behind her.

Damn it, I cursed. I'd never been so embarrassed. Not only had my mother seen my cock, she seen that I was masturbating. I wished there was a hole somewhere to crawl in and hide.

Throwing the covers off, I angrily slapped my cock, trying to punish it for making me feel so foolish. "Ouch—" I snorted, swinging my legs off the bed, standing up and stumbling over to the chair where my jeans were. Pulling them on, I quickly pulled a tee shirt over my head and stepped into my loafers.

Stuffing the money into my pocket, I shuffled over to the door. Taking a deep breath, I reached down and quickly pulled the door open. Stepping through it and going down he hall I saw that mom was sitting at the table. She had the Mason jar that pa kept his shine in and a glass with some the liquor in it sitting in front of her as she looked up at me.

"Be careful—" I heard her tell me as I stepped over to the door leading outside.

"Uh, what number?" I asked her.

"Oh, I forgot, uh, number six," she told me as I glanced down at the outline of her big tits underneath her PJs.

"Okay," I mumbled, backing out through the doorway.

The Seven-Eleven was only a couple hundred yards down the road and I was back with the bag of ice in no time.

Knocking on the door of unit six, I waited for someone to answer. Suddenly the door came swinging open and a big, fat guy wearing a pair of shorts opened the door.

"About time," he grunted as I looked over his shoulder and saw a woman lying on the bed behind him. As I held the bag of ice out to him, I saw that the woman was bare-assed naked and she didn't seem the least bit concerned that I was gazing at her. In fact, she thrust her pert tits out at me and grinned as I continued to stare.

"What's wrong, kid," I heard the guy snicker as he took the ice from me and turned around to look over at the woman. "Ain't you never seen tits before?" he snickered, stepping back and slamming the door in my face.

"Yeah, I've seen tits before," I angrily muttered to the door as I turned and headed back for the office. I'd seen my mother's tits once and they were a damned sight bigger and prettier than the ones the woman in the room had. As I thought back on seeing my mother's tits, I felt a sizzle of excitement spark up my still semi-flacid cock.

A while back I'd been working on a refrigerator in one of the units and when I'd finished I headed back to the office to tell mom that I was done. Walking back to the office, I'd walked by our bathroom window and saw mom standing at the sink. She had her dress open down to the waist and was running a washcloth over her juicy bare breasts. She seemed to be enjoying herself as her hands moved slowly, giving me time to relish my first sight of a pair of mighty fine-looking tits completely exposed!

My God, what beauty! I had absolutely no frame of reference, but to me, they were the most hottest and heavenly breasts in the world. Pale, bigger around than my hands, they had large dark areolas and big fat nipples. I was stunned as I gawked at them in worshipful reverence. They were stupendous. Whopping beautiful pink melons the size of cantaloupes as she cupped one and then the other to lift them and run the washcloth over them. I'd never forget that day as long as I lived.

Back from my quick chore tonight I stepped into the office, I saw that mom was still sitting at the table watching TV.

"Was he satisfied?" I heard her ask me.

"Uh, yeah, I guess," I grinned seeing that there were two glasses on the table now. One in front of mom and another one placed in front of where I usually sat. "It looked like him and his girlfriend was having a few drinks," I added.

"Good . . . would you like one, too?" she smiled up at me.

"Uh, yeah, uh, sure," I told her grinning as I pulled my chair out and sat down. I'd sneaked a few nips of Pa's shine so I knew what to expect as I took a little sip of the fiery liquor. Damn, it was strong; I tried to hold back a cough when the blistering paint-thinner burned its way down my throat. I put the shot down so as not to spill it.

Fiddling with my glass, I saw that in the bright light of the bare bulb dangling down from the ceiling over the table that I could see right through mom's nightie. I could make out every tiny detail of her big tits from their shape and even the dark circles of the tips. I could make out the image of her long puffy nipples clearly.

I knew that I shouldn't be looking at them, but I couldn't stop myself. Then I became aware that mom saw me looking at them. I was thinking she would say something about my crude behavior, but she just smiled and didn't do or say anything to dissuade me.

"Cheers—" she said, smiling, lifting her glass and tapping it against mine. "To us . . ."

"Uh, to us," I mumbled, picking up my glass and lifting it up to my lips. That was an odd toast, I told myself as I took another sip of the shine. The booze was so potent; I was already feeling it and I'd only had just a couple of sips. I grinned, set my glass on the table and sneaked another peek at mom's melons.

"Do you think your Pa really meant what he said?" she asked me as she leaned back against the chair. As she did, it stretched the cloth of her gown and made her breasts thrust out against it making them even more prominent and enticing.

"About what?" I asked looking up at her face finally. "He says a lot of stupid stuff."

"About us? About you and me . . . fucking?"

"Uh, I, uh, I don't know," I muttered, feeling a blush spread across my burning cheeks.

"I guess that he could think that," she sighed. "We're together all the time and he's never around. So, how would he know any different?" she conjectured.

This conversation was becoming uncomfortably close to the way I'd been feeling about her since Dad had spouted off about the two of us screwing.

"I guess so—" I choked out.

"Have you ever, uh, you know, done that . . . thought about us thata way?" she asked me as I saw a blush darken her cheek bones.

"Mom . . .?" I fussed, feeling the temperature in the room go up a good ten degrees.

"I'm sorry, I was just wondering," she said, taking another sip of hooch. "I never see you with a girl."

"Uh, no, no, I'm awfully bashful around girls, mom," I told her. "Besides, I'm pretty busy around here, you know."

"Well, I guess that's my fault," she frowned. "I shouldn't have taken you out of school. As good looking as you are, I'm sure you would have a girlfriend by now."

"Uh, maybe, yeah, I guess," I muttered, taking another drink of shine and sputtering as it seared its way down my throat.

I heard a distant grumble of thunder as mom just sat there looking at me like she was thinking. Like she was trying to make up her mind about something.

"Uh, sounds like it might rain," I said, breaking the awkward silence, not knowing what else to say.

"Yeah, it does, doesn't it?" she smiled, setting her glass down and slowly pushing up onto her bare feet. Then she turned and slowly stepped over to the window, spread the curtain apart and looked out through it.

My heart was racing as I watched her. The thin gown did little to hide anything underneath it and I could clearly see the long sweep of her back as it swooped down to the round swell of her butt. I could make out the dark crack running down its center bisecting it and dividing it into cheeks.

Then I watched her push the window up. The moment she did, the room was immediately filled with the fresh dampness that always precedes rain.

"I love the smell of rain . . ." mother murmured as I watched her breathe in a deep breath of the charged air.

"Yeah, me, too," I grunted, following her lead and sniffing in a lungful of the moist, humid air. Another musky scent tinged the night air flowing past ma, it was her, it smelled good.

Then she slowly turned around to face me. I couldn't keep from dropping my eyes down to her "baby-fat" globes. Her wonderful ta-tas strained out against the thin chiffon. I could make out everything about them under the gauzy material. Their size, their curve, the large ruddy circles a target for my lips, those engorged nubs protruding out to seduce my mouth. I could see everything. And then I looked down to the vague, shadowy triangle that covered the bottom of her tummy.

I couldn't stop the spark of excitement that arced through my cock making it jump inside my jeans.

"Do you think I'm pretty?" I heard my mother ask from across the room.

She had to know that I could see right through her skimpy, little gown. She had to know, I giddily thought.

"Uh, yeah, uh, I think you're, uh, beautiful, mom," I choked out trying not to swallow my tongue.

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