Charity Starts At Home : Part 1 : Mother-Daughter Reunion
Despite what the world might have you believe, no one starts out as a slut. That being said, no one intends to become a slut either even when they are enroute to becoming one. Arriving at “slutdom” is shocking and appalling to some, who then run fleeing ashamed at the woman they’ve become. Others embrace this newfound sexual liberty and explore it for everything that it is worth.
My name is Charity Jones. I am a fulfilled slut. This is my story.
As I mentioned before, no one starts out as a slut and I am no exception. I was never abused, never had a drug addiction, no criminal record and my parents loved me very much. I was a straight A honour-roll student, and went to church every Sunday. I intended to save myself for marriage and settle down with 2.5 kids and live happily ever after in the suburbs.
For all intents and purposes that’s exactly how I appear to be. I’m happily married to a wonderful for nearly 20 years now. We have two lovely girls who are about to embark onto college themselves. I still go to church every Sunday and was a part of the PTA. How ever, I’m also a swinger and run my personal pornographic website.
That is getting far ahead of myself though . As I approach my 40th birthday in a few months , I have decided to look back and see where it all started. You must forgive me as it starts out very slowly, but every good story has its own history; and mine is one heck of a back-story.
My parents hated each other and they divorced when I was only six. How they managed to stay together even that long was a complete mystery. My father gained complete custody and forbade my mother from seeing me. He raised me to hate my mother, mincing no words calling her a “slut” and a “whore” when we were not in mixed company With having no access to her, I naturally believed my father implicitly and grew to hate my mother as well.
Father doted on me in a material yet distant and aloof way. Business and money was his first mistress. He had hinted at growing up poor and never wanted that for his only child. Thusly I grew up a little isolated and to be completely honest; a little spoiled.
But all of that came to a crashing halt when my father went to jail. It turned out most of his business dealings had been built on fraud and on money that didn’t exist. In the space of a few months I had gone from rich Daddy’s girl to pauper. And then the worst came to light.
I would have to move in with my mother.
I hardly could move out on my own, I had just turned 16 and being a teenage high school drop out didn’t leave me much choices.
I was going from a sprawling house in an upper class suburb and private school to god knows what in a small town. Adding insult to injury, I had to take a bus halfway across the country to do so. I arrived in this south-western town with nothing but two suitcases to show for any of my previous life.
When my mother pulled up to the bus depot she was hard not to pick out. I had received letters from my father’s lawyer telling me she was flamboyant but this really took me by storm. I couldn’t figure out if it was her hair, her clothes or her car that made my eyes burst of my skull.
Mother had pulled up to the bus-depot in a hot pink cadilac convertible with the top down. The interior was a faux-fur zebra lining. Fuzzy dice and the Playboy bunny dangled from the rear-view mirror. Van-Halen thundered out of the speakers.
Mother got out of the caddy and I got my first real look at her. She was quite tall, possibly 5’ 10” or so, and it didn’t help that she was wearing white leather cowboy boots which added another couple of inches. She wore Daisy-Duke denim shorts as well. Adding to this was a white tube top which could barely contain her very ample bust. To top this all off was a white cowboy hat.
I am a study in contrasts and similarities to my mother. Whilst I inherited my father’s petite stature coming in at barely 5’ 3”; I also inherited my mother’s physique: the corn stalk blonde hair, blue sparkling eyes and the same shapely hourglass figure topped with an equally generous bustline. While my breasts were always an embarrassment to me, mother seemed to flaunt hers.
Mother all but burst out from the pink convertible and rushed toward me, her cowboy heels clopping and her tits bouncing as she darted to me. I was so mortified that my face must have burst red as I tried putting up a brave diplomatic smile. She quickly wrapped her arms around me in a very forward hug and since I only came eye to eye with her cleavage, I found my face buried between them.
“ Oooh-wee, my dahlin baby girl has bin returned to me!” , Mother twanged out in an unmistakably deep-southern drawl.
I managed to extricate myself from the mammory mauling and extended my hand cordially. This was the tramp that had abandoned me and my father. The last thing I was going to do was pretend that this was a happy family reunion.
“ Charity Jones, a pleasure to meet you Mother.”, I said using my best boarding school voice with the right tinge of bitch to get my point across.
Looking at her I instantly regretted what I had just said. The look of deep rooted pain that flashed in her eyes was almost too much to bear. I don’t know what she was expecting from me after twelve years of abandonment , but it was clear even to me that I was a bit out of line as well.
We both stood there uncertain as to what to do or say , and I noticed we both turned red in our upper cheeks when we were upset. I was about to apologize when she took my hand.
With a brave smile and a deep breath Mother said , “ The pleasure is all mine Charity.”
We unclasped hands and stood staring at each other for a few moments. It was clear neither of us knew what to say or do next, nor what was expected of us. We were separated by 10 years of time and by light years of understanding.
Mother broke the silence , “ I’d prefer if ya called me Momma or Mom, but if ya can’t call me that… I reckon I’ll settle for Dianne, or just Dee.”
“ Alright Moth-”, I stumbled on the word again, “ Momm--”
“Dee” , she smiled at me
“ Dee”, I breathed out relieved, “ alright, Dee.”
With the initial awkwardness out of the way, Dee and I got into the car. It felt strange calling her Dee, but I just could not get myself to call her Mother or Mom, let alone Momma. We drove away and into town
Dee went on and on in her southern drawl pointing out the landmarks in town as I broiled in the next seat. I barely noticed her as my internal monolgue had me griping about the backwoods town I had been dropped into. There couldn’t have been more then 10 thousand people living here. It was a distant satellite town, not too far away from the city to be rural and not too small enough to be quaint. And I hated it from look one.
We eventually came to a rail crossing and my heart sunk as I could almost predict where we were going next. To none of my surprise we eventually pulled into a trailer park ironically named ‘Millionaire Acres’. It was official; my mother was trailer park trash . Thusly I was also to be trailer park trash.
It was a motley assortment of RV’s, mobile homes and doublewide trailer home units. Ranging from well kept homes of retirees to ramshackle domiciles of what were clearly the dregs of this town. If there was a wrong side of the tracks to this town, we had literally crossed it. It was laid out in a circular design surrounding a Laundromat attached to a corner store, which in turn was attached to a bar.
My new home was one of the larger units, but it still could all fit into half of the main floor of my old home. It was on the outer with a view of the local brewery around back.. A small deck skirted the front. It was a two bedroom place with the master bedroom at the back end and the secondary bedroom flanking it. On the other side of the small hall was the bathroom . The front of the trailer was a living room with a kitchenette /dining room that all but looked into the living room.
It was kitschy, it was camp. Thick shag rug carpeted the living room. There was a velvet Elvis behind the TV. Lots of little crystal figurines. The zebra motif continued from the car as the couch and love seat were in the same pattern. A brief peek in the kitchen showed what Mothe…, what Dee had for breakfast; a six pack of beer.
I was in hell. But at least hell had air conditioning.
“ Welcome to your new home Charity” , Dee said giving a twirl as if showing off the grandeur of the environs.
Dee continued, “ Your bedroom is just down the hall, you just settle yourself in and we can catch up on all we missed.”
I turned and looked down the hall to the bedrooms. And that’s when I had enough.
On what was clearly the door to my bedroom was a cardboard pink teddy bear with the words ‘ Charity’s Room’ in bold happy letters outlined in sparkles. Enough was enough.
“ Listen Dee,” I said to her coldly , “ I appreciate what you’re doing for me, but I am not twelve nore is this some sort of happy reunion.”
The smile drained from Dee’s face completely and once again I saw the hurt. It was better I say this all now then let it fester over time. Hurt a little now avoid homicide later I considered.
I continued, “ I am here because I do not want to be homeless drifter. You abandoned us and I think it’s only fitting you actually be willing to give a damn about me for a couple years”
Now there was some anger in Dee’s eyes but coupled with that hurt she began to interject, “ Is that what you really think…”
I interrupted with a wave of my hand and continued, “ I do not really care about the excuse and lies you have for ignoring me. Maybe we can be friends in the future but for now I just want to go hide until I graduate and can get out of this shithole.”
I abruptly turned my back on her proud of my defiant stand. Someone had to put that bitch in her place and remind her of the lives she had ruined. I dragged my suitcases into my bedroom and was about to throw them on the bed. That’s when I saw it, and that’s when it stopped me cold.
The room was a shrine. A shrine to me. There were picture of me everywhere. Me as a little girl on a pony. Me at my first day of ballet. Me in my cheerleader uniform. Me winning first prize at the school science fair. Mountains of teddy bears surrounded the bed. The bed itself was the centre point; it was covered in letters. At a glance I could see they were all addressed to me.
I dropped the suitcases and staggered to the bed and sat down. I felt light headed. People say that before they die they see their life flash before their eyes. It was the same thing for me as I sat on the bed and picked up one of the letters.
On the letter, beneath my old scratched out home address were three words written in the unmistakable handwriting of my father
*** Return to Sender***
I covered a mouth that wanted to scream with my freehand, but I couldn’t scream. I could barely breath. My heart had crammed itself into my throat and wanted to burst in a thousand bleeding pieces as I realized the immensity of what this was.
From the doorway Dee softly spoke as I choked back sobs.
“ Every birthday. Every Christmas. Every time you began a school year and every time it ended..”
The tears began to burn down my cheeks as I rummaged through the enormity of my father’s betrayal in the form of never opened mail. There were dozens upon dozens. And as I wept, Dee continued.
“ Every Halloween and every Valentine’s Day. Every time you got an A on your report card..”
I looked up as she softly crossed the room and sat down on the bed beside me. She understood what I meant to ask, what I needed to know, needed to hear ..all of that in a single glance.
“ Oh yes, your father kept me up to date on your life, but…”, she trailed away for a moment and came back, “ but it came at such a heavy price.”
She took my hand in hers and for the first time in my life I could actually feel love pour into me. Unconditional. Forgiving . Love.
“ The price was “, Dee continued, “ was that I could never see you. If I ever came to see you or try to speak to you…”
Dee herself now choked up and I squeezed her hand right back. In all the years I had lived with my father had I ever had a moment so personal and honest. I wanted to project that forgiveness right back to her , but I knew she wasn’t finished.
The tears welled up in her eyes too, but she finally managed to finish, “ …if I ever tried, he would take you away where I would never find you again, and I just couldn’t bear to give up what little I had left of you.”
The wallks broke down and we were bare before each other, victims of treachery, victims of love.
“ Ohhhh Momma…”, I began t cry
She held me close to her and rocked me gently like a child until the tears began to end. She stroked my hair and reminded me over and over again how sorry she was. How much she loved me.
“ I’ll never leave you Momma, “ I cried into her shoulder, “ I swear.”
I couldn’t call her Dee anymore, it was a stunning transformation. In just a handful of days this woman had gone from hated stranger into what was quickly becoming the center of my universe. It was like I was trying to squeeze in all my lost childhood with her into those early days.
Momma and I also had a lot of serious moments too though, learning the truth about the divorce was a lot to handle but I had to hear it all. Even after discovering that my father had forbidden Momma to contact me I was still shocked and disgusted to hear some of the other things he had gotten up to.
Momma explained to me that they had gotten married simply because she was pretty and he had gotten her pregnant with me. She was a teen mother and that he came from money. She was young and pretty and made a good trophy wife and it seems that’s where the love had ended.
Father cheated on her all the time, there were always women in his life he never made any secret of it. Momma’s role it seemed was to raise me and stay pretty at parties. But over time, father grew tired of the southern blonde he had married who embarrassed him her twang and graces in social circles, she was a viewed as a bumpkin, so he decided to get rid of her.
Father bribed Momma’s personal trainer to seduce her, and even then it took months to do so. Momma was still determined to be a faithful wife but the trainer and finally succeeded. Father made sure there were photo’s to prove my mother’s infidelity . The divorce was an open and closed case, she couldn’t prove his infidelity and he had photographic evidence of hers.
With no job skills, no work history and no means of support, there was no chance of gaining custody of Charity. So Momma headed back home and made do any way she could. She always sent me money though when she could, I discovered this when we opened the letters. A twenty here, a fifty there; it all added up over twelve long years and realized there was quite a nice lump of money there.
We went shopping for new clothes for me, my upstate northern clothes were not exactly going to help me in the south western heat. Momma tried getting me the same style of skimpy clothes she wore, extolling me to show off the goods Mother Nature had given me, but I insisted on keeping to a more conservative style of dress. Even so, I found a number of skimpy tops and tight jeans in my new wardrobe when we got home.
I even managed to update my room to that of a teen girl’s and still spoil myself a bit. A ghetto blaster, walkman, some make up, some posters and a bunch of music tapes ( this was the 80’s after all). I even bought some exercises for Momma and me. I still had a few hundred dollars left afterwards.
We both loved musicals and ABBA, we had the same sense of humour too. Momma was quite intelligent despite not having finished high school herself and she was a voracious reader. Most of what she read were trashy novels, but she quickly took to my classics. In turn I grew to be as equally hooked on her soap operas.
Momma worked nights at a bar called the Zebra Club on the outskirts of town and I was an early riser. So when she got up in the morning, I’d have breakfast waiting and then we’d work out in front of the TV and hang out the rest of the day. All in all it was a great first week for what I thought was going to be a great summer before school started.
Things took a very interesting change came the first Friday night though and it would be the thing that sent me on the path to being the slut I am today.
Momma and I were having breakfast when she matter of factly told me that she sometimes had gentleman callers ( her words, not mine) spend the night over. It shouldn’t have been a surprise, she was single and very attractive after all. I had to remember she had been single for 12 years and that I wasn’t going to be the only person in her life. I assured Momma that I had no problems with it and the subject was quickly forgotten.
Momma went to work that night and I settled into the couch for a night reading one of Momma’s trashy novels and some bad TV. Eleven o’clock hit and I was officially tired out and went to bed.
I don’t know how long the noises had gone on by the time they had woken me up. I was still new to the house and sometimes strange new noises woke me up, but this was definitely something I had never heard before. It was a rhythmic banging sound accompanied with gurgling and sloshing , not to mention the groaning and moaning. And it was coming from Momma’s room.
Momma’s room was off limits, she had made that clear from day one.It was her personal space and the place she escaped the world. To elaborate the point it was the only door in the trailer that had its own lock. And it was always locked.
As I woke , I could clearly tell the groans were Momma’s. They were accompanied by occasional grunts from her as well. And the banging and the gurgling and the sloshing continued. This was beyond bizarre for me and I had to investigate it.
I was a bit sheltered but I should have realized what the groaning was all about, I wasn’t completely that ignorant after all. But the other sounds were a complete mystery and for all I knew she was actually in trouble and I would never forgive myself if I had let something happen to her just to avoid embarrassing myself.
I softly got out of bed in my nightee and creeped out my door. Merely stepping out into the hall a soft glow suffused me down the short hallway in the distinctive hue of a television glow, and it emanated from Momma’s bedroom. The groans, gurgling, banging and sloshing were louder and were clearly from the open door to her room.
Clothing was strewn across the hall leading into Momma’s bedroom and I took a couple of quiet steps and looked through the door which was open a couple feet. I gasped at the sight I beheld.
There was my Momma as naked as the Lord made her on her knees with her face down on the bed. Behind her a large BLACK man was clearly fucking her hard.
It took me a couple seconds to take it all in and register what was happening. The sex and everything in the room took my breath away.
The sloshing, the gurgling and the banging were coming from the bed itself. It was a waterbed ( it was the 1980’s) and the water cushion was clearly getting a workout. The bed spread and quilt were in Momma’s favourite style; zebra. The banging itself was from the headboard itself banging against the wall every time the BLACK man thrusted into her. How the bed didn’t break escaped me.
The TV glow showed itself to be a pornographic movie playing some big breasted blonde bimbo sucking the engorged penis of yet another BLACK man.
If you’re wondering why I’m putting such emphasis on the word BLACK you have to understand I have never met an actual black person in my life. I had lived in an upper-class white neighbourhood all my life. The closest I had ever come to seeing a real black person was on TV. I had been taught nothing but the upper class racism and bigotry of my father. In his eyes , black people were athletes, entertainers or rapists, criminals and thieves.
But seeing this in the flesh had me very……aroused?
I couldn’t take my eyes off of the spectacle. Here was my Momma in all her glory having this large black man have his way with her! From the angle they were facing she had her face turned away and the black man was clearly enjoying himself too much to glance at an open door. I could clearly see all the action though from my place just outside the door. It was fantastic!! Every time he pulled away from her I could see his large dark penis out from Momma.
I had never seen an actual penis before outside of National Geographic magazines , and never anything like this! He was thick and long, that much I could tell and every time he pushed back into her I felt a tingling a pulse between my thighs. He had a firm athletic body and it showed when ever he planted himself deep inside my Momma.
I could feel my nipples stiffen against the sheer fabric of my nightee and heat burst across my body. It was wrong of me to be aroused by watching my parent in her most intimate moment, but the hot beauty of dark skin on creamy whiteness was too hard to resist. I was transfixed.
Suddenly the large black man rolled onto his back and pulled Momma over with him, she turned and straddled his athletic body. Momma was facing me now but I still could not turn away. I took a half step back to get a bit out of the light from the TV, but I still had a clear view of all the action.
“ oh Marcus, I love your big black cock”, Momma groaned out loud.
I covered my mouth to stifle a gasp at what Momma had just said. It was so crass and rude. But it was so right. So very , very right. My body knew that right away even if it was Momma’s body that was having the experience.
“ Then you better get on that dick”, the man named Marcus clearly instructed.
The casual confidence in his voice turned me on I must admit. As his hands wandered to her hips my hands wandered to my own , imagining his dark skin on my own light flesh. Watching his hands grip her waist and pull her down to his crotch was masterful.
Momma herself was a glorious image, in the soft light she looked like a goddess. The narrow waist, the flat stomach, the full hips and the lush fullness of her breasts. Her golden curls framed her like a halo as they cascaded over her shoulders. Her breasts were large and heavy with nipples the size of silver dollars which were hard and as erect as my own. Her nudity should have been shameful to me , but instead I was breath -taken and envious of the sheer sensuality she oozed.
She reached between her thighs and grasped Marcus’ firm black shaft, her hand barely wrapping around it. She rose her hips just above Marcus; own and rubbed the head of his penis against the cleft between her thighs. This elicited a soft moan from both him and myself and my own hand snaked under my nightee to my overheated wetness , rubbing that magic spot imagining it was Marcus’ thickness rubbing it there.
Momma and I both groaned as she eased herself onto his cock. Inch by glorious inch Marcus disappeared into Momma. I had no idea how she could fit all of him into her. In my mind’s eye it was me slowly meeting his crotch. Momma began to slowly grind her hips into his and I ground my own hips into my fingers as I began to rub myself harder. Slowly Momma began to rise and fall on Marcus’ length. I watched with intense desire as his dark meat appeared and disappeared into Momma, his black cock becoming slick with her juices.
Momma began to ride Marcus earnestly and fervently. She would slam her hips into him filling the room with hot and wet smacking sounds. Her breasts bounced and swayed as she rode him hard. Sweat burst across my brow and my body was on fire, my fingers diddling myself hard to the x-rated action playing out before me. At this point I couldn’t tell what I wanted more; my Momma or Marcus.
In some moment of sexual serendipity both Momma and myself gripped an equivalent tit and squeezed and tweaked a hard nipple. Both of us elicited an equal gasp as we felt a tremor ripple through her bodies. It was a mini-cum and it was glorious. Momma snaked her other hand to her pounded pussy and rubbed her clit just as I was doing with myself.
“ Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck”, Momma’s breath came in short puffs.
“ God damn you have a tight white pussy Dee”, Marcus grunted.
That was enough to set us both off. Momma began to shake and tremble and she began to cum hard and she grinded herself into her black lover. I had to stagger back against the wall as waves of pleasure rolled through me as well. I was dizzy and delirious.
“ Ohhhh fuck, I’m gonna cum”, Marcus groaned rolling his head back and forth.
“ Cum in me baby, cum in me” both Momma and I said at the same time even though mine was just a whisper to myself.
Marcus’ hands came up and gripped Momma’s jugs, his dark fingers squeezing into her soft white flesh. I did the same with my own hands imagining them being cupped and caressed and mauled by those hands. By Momma’s hands too. I ground my hips against the wall as aftershocks rippled through me.
“ Ahhhhhh fuck, cumming” , Marcus arched his back and thrust one last time into Momma
As if on cue Momma went off as well, I don’t know why but it set off a tiny explosion in me too. I lived vicariously through her pleasure at pleasuring a man. I could all but feel him shooting into me. Oh god how much I wanted it! Filling me, overflowing me, satisfying me!
“ Taste yourself on my cock” , Marcus instructed in his sexy casual confidence.
With a horny smile Momma slipped off Marcus’ thick tool which plopped out of her pussy with a juicy smack. It was long and thick and gooey with their combined juices, it looked downright tasty to me, my mouth actually watered. Momma scooted down and wrapped her lips around his cockhead and then started lashing her tongue all along his turgid length. I licked my own pussy-wet fingers visualizing my digits as Marcus’ cock.
“ Tasty”, Momma said with a smile when she was done. I agreed.
“ I should probably clean up and get out before your daughter wakes up”, Marcus said as he began to shift.
This promptly snapped me out of my reverie and brought me back to the reality of where I was. Instead of being caught with my tits hanging out like this I scooted back to my room doing my best to stay quiet. I closed the door behind me and flung myself onto the bed.
I lay on the bed staring up at the ceiling still hot and feverish. Over and over I played out the events in my head. My mind was racing, my heart was beating a thousand beats per minute, The heat in my loins was threatening to set me on fire.
I tore the nightee off my body and lay naked in the bed, my nipples were like diamonds, my skin was electric. I thrust my fingers to my cleft and replayed the scene again. I was all bust gushing imagining that big cock disappearing into my momma’s pussy. Wondering what my pussy juce would taste on that big cock. That big BLACK cock. What my Momma’s pussy would taste like on that big black cock. What my Momma’s pussy would taste like.
I came thunderously at that realization . I arched my back in a noiseless scream and then covered my mouth with my pillow and let myself HOWL. It went like a lightning bolt through me. It went out through my toes, exploded my nipples and shot out like a beam of light through the top of my head. I swear I saw stars as I shot through the ceiling.
I came back to earth in a sweaty heap, finally satisfied. What I wanted was wrong. But I had to have it.
I wanted my Momma. I also wanted back cock. I wanted both.
As I drifted off to sleep all I could keep thinking like a mantra was…I want , I want , I want, I want…..