I was 5 when my mom went through a cancer spell. We were poor then and lived in a caravan on my grandads property. I slept in the caravan with parents and my little brother lived in the brickhouse with grandparents. Before the cancer whenever dad was away on contract work grandad would come to the caravan and fuck mom. Grandma knew about it.When mom went through cancer she would try to satisfy dad with her hands and mouth. I would watch. When she went for her chemo and couldnt take care of dads needs then dad would use gran without grandad knowing. I think i started sucking dad and grandad when i was 6
fucking her when she sleeps
During lockdown my father stayed with kids and i cause husband was trapped abroad when borders closed.We kept entertained at home mostly at pool. Dad didnt have sex since mom passed 8 years ago and all the bikini views and rubbing sunscreen on me got him going. One night we both drank a bit. Things happened. I loved it.Nowdays he druggs hubby and fucks me right next to drowsy hubby.
On that night, years back, we were up until the cardinals started calling. The first one lit out through the leaves before the air went from warm to hot. I remember that the call sounded lonely in the quiet of early morning. But soon, just before it got light, many of them were fussing in the poplars outside Evvie's porch. The sky was turning bright behind the kudzu that was taking over the back fence. Evvie had poured more of whatever she drank with her coffee and lay lengthwise on the porch glider. Her legs were crossed in my lap. When I ran my fingers around each toe, she broke from humming to herself, and her lips pulled tight against her teeth. She breathed like the breathing was getting her off. She breathed like that when she came, hours earlier, when I had her bent over the back of the glider on her porch.
That's how she makes me say it now--bent over, entered from behind --like we're a coroner's report. She doesn't like it if I say doggy-style. When I first caught up with her today, I tried that out--just to joke, like we used to do--but she looked dead at me and sucked her teeth. It ain't like that now, she said, no shame in her face. Evvie tells me not to say things like sweetmeat and assfuck. She says she'd rather not talk about sex at all. But years back, when I massaged her feet, she dribbled her drink, opened her mouth, and let her neck go slack, face to the sky. Her teeth were slick with the wet of her tongue. And I figured all that had to do with me.
But there was a lot to that night. When the sun had been down a while, the sky was still bright with red and purple, like the whole dusk was swollen. The air was wet. Clouds were thick and hung close to the hills. Like early morning, those birds were carrying on. And when we first got to Evvie's place, the cicadas were buzzing as it got dark. You know what that's all about, Evvie would say. Even now, that buzz goes through me like an emotion, everywhere at once. It sounds like spring works: from inside your middle. By early morning we'd been at it all over the house: couch, rocker, hallway floor, twice in the bathtub.
After we finally split and divorced, she almost immediately remarried an old man who was living in Santa Monica. This old man, who was obviously very poor, managed to persuade her that he was actually very rich and he was going to buy her a Mercedes and take her all kinds of places, when the reality was he was some kind of retired bricklayer on welfare or something. But she married him, and they lived together for quite a long time, and then she drove him off, I guess with her alcoholism, until he left her with his welfare apartment right there in Santa Monica.
\u201CWe moved back to Jacksonville, where Mike was stationed, and it\u2019s weird, because that\u2018s when I started drinking,\u201D Nancy says, picking tobacco off her tongue and, since she has few remaining teeth, giving the lopsided grin of a stroke victim. \u201CWe had a garage apartment behind a house that was occupied by four or five different guys, and they were always drinking and partying and stuff, and here I am with a baby, and I said, \u2019Damn, it looks like they\u2018re having a lot of fun.\u2019 So I hired a babysitter one day and bought a six-pack of Budweiser. Took me all day to drink it. And when I woke up the next morning I didn\u2018t have a hangover or nothing, but I decided beer wasn\u2019t very ladylike, so I bought a bottle of white wine, and drank half of it that night. Still no hangover. By the end of the month I was drinking a lot. Before then, I had drunk nothing to speak of. I was the kind of person who would hold a drink. Mike said, \u2018I didn\u2019t know you liked to drink so much.\u2018 He didn\u2019t say anything more than that. Then I got into hard liquor.\u201D
\u201CWe rented a house in Mar Vista, and then we bought it. We stayed there two or three years. I had gotten alcohol poisoning a couple of times. My husband put me in the hospital twice, and when the second hospitalization didn\u2018t take, he told me, \u2019I don\u2018t feel I have any other choice but to file for formal separation,\u2019 which in California is nine months, \u2018and if you haven\u2019t cleaned up your act and stuff, then we\u2018ll be divorced.\u2019 And that\u2018s what happened. Did I try to fight the divorce? Sort of, but I never stopped drinking, so it was hopeless. My mom had passed away, so I had enough money and assets and stuff like that, so it didn\u2019t faze me. I figured, I\u2018ve got money, I\u2019ve got a VW bus, I\u2018ve got a boat, I\u2019ve got everything that I need -- \u2018I can drink in peace\u2019 kind of thinking.\u201D She grins the lopsided grin. \u201CThat\u2018s as debauched as I was.\u201D
\u201CI\u2019m not what you call a social drinker. I didn\u2018t really have any friends. It would never occur to me to go to a bar and spend money on drink after drink after drink, when I could go buy a bottle and go somewhere and that\u2019s that. I drank at home. And . . . it just gave me a relief. Relief. I was a lot more relaxed, and happier. The hangovers were bad, though, very bad. I made the money last two years, and then I started to sell things. First the jewelry, then the silverware, the boat, the VW bus. It was scary, seeing all this stuff go, but I just couldn\u2018t deal with it. Then I started stealing. Stealing booze. I got evicted. I picked up a really bad boyfriend -- he was on PCP. We wound up living in his car. I was really badly beaten [by him], and one morning I decided, \u2019I\u2018m not coming back to this car,\u2019 so I just kept walking away. Walking, walking, walking, through the alleys; some guy gave me five bucks, he was out gardening. Then the cops picked me up. I had no shoes, no ID, no money, and I\u2018m drinking. And I was sitting on the storm drain across from the house I used to own in Mar Vista.\u201D
\u201CI had no idea where she was until I heard from her social worker.\u201D This is Michael Safonov, Nancy\u2019s former husband and a professor of electrical engineering at USC. His office is on the third floor of the Hughes Aircraft Building of Electrical Engineering, a stark warren whose walls are affixed with Dilbert and Gary Larson cartoons. Michael is a tall, soft-spoken man who emits patience; when discussing Nancy, whom he visited on Mother\u2019s Day, his chest caves.
\u201CI was just seventeen years old when I met Nancy, and she was, too. I thought she was wonderful. She was the most beautiful person I had ever seen. You wouldn\u2019t believe from [seeing] the person she is now how beautiful she was then . . . She had led an incredibly privileged life. I was raised in Pacific Palisades, so I knew a lot of people who were well off, but Nancy had that sort of New York, Eastern panache about her. I wasn\u2018t interested in the fact that she was wealthy at all, but I was very impressed with the way she carried herself, she was quite elegant. And so, it became my obsession to make her my girlfriend.\u201D
\u201DIn Boston, Nancy worked as an office assistant at various places, and eventually she got a job as a secretary at MIT, in the biology department, working with a Nobel laureate and a Nobel laureate-to-be -- Salvador Luria and David Baltimore, who is now the president of Caltech -- so she had some interesting company in those days. But it was the time of the Vietnam War, and they were very radical over there, especially in the biology department. Over in the electrical-engineering side of the university, where I worked, people didn\u2019t worry so much about those kinds of things -- they were more concerned with research and mathematics and things like that -- so it began to build a little bit of tension between us. I didn\u2018t feel that way about the war. I felt sort of neutral. And when it came time and I got a very low draft number, I didn\u2019t run away to Canada, I didn\u2018t declare myself a conscientious objector, I signed up to join the Navy as an officer, so that was kind of a blow to Nancy.
\u201CShe stuck by me; she traveled around the Mediterranean while I was on an aircraft carrier there. Then our son, Alex, was born, and she traveled around Europe to be with me, but she had a seething anger about the Navy. It became a crutch, a focal point, a \u2019You\u2018re away from me and I hate you for that,\u2019 and she began drinking to help ease the pain when we were separated. She made up her mind, she just wasn\u2018t going to travel around anymore. She was going to stay in Jacksonville, where I\u2019d been stationed. And apparently she began drinking because she got courage, it made it easy for her to go out and meet people.\u201D
Michael looks out his office window for a bit. \u201CAnyway, she met people, and she took a number of lovers and so forth when I was away. This was the seventies, free-love time, sort of these utopian ideas. Instinctively it didn\u2019t feel right, but somehow you\u2018re supposed to do that, because it\u2019s modern times or something, or seems like it, so I didn\u2018t make that much of a fuss about it. But she got involved with the most awful people, people in motorcycle gangs and . . . She was caring for our infant son, who while she was off doing things was on his own, and he shouldn\u2019t have been. He was quite neglected, I\u2018m afraid, while I was off at sea.\u201D 2ff7e9595c
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