A Memoir, Chapter Three
by Tom Hathaway
for Chapters: ONE,
TWO, or THREE
is proud to serialize the first three chapters of Tom Hathaway's
novel, TABOO: A MEMOIR, published
by Dandelion Books.)
you can tell, mine wasn't the typical mom. She was a rebel from
the start, and to understand her, you need to know about her background.
grew up in Denver, which despite its tourist image is a rather
ordinary town, a city of the plains rather than the mountains.
The Rockies float off to the west, distant blue peaks on the horizon.
But visitors come here expecting the city to be special, and that
affects the place. It makes Denver suspect it could be greater,
that it has missed an opportunity.
the late 1940s and early 1950s, when Diana was a teenager, the
city attracted a stream of rebellious drifters. They were similar
to the high plains drifters of the late 1800s who had made it
their base, lone outcasts, many of them burnt out by the Civil
War. The later group emerged disillusioned from World War Two.
They too were restless seekers for ever-new beginnings on an open
frontier, this time a mental one. They were fleeing themselves
and the constricting propriety of the homes that had produced
them. The dislocation of the war had blown off society's lid and
given these discontents a vision of other worlds of possibilities.
They developed a disdain for the mainstream and its bourgeois
concepts of normality. Anything that smacked of "nice"
was anathema to them.
was the Beat Generation, with the writers Jack Kerouac, Allen
Ginsberg, and William Burroughs as their verbal leaders and jazz
musicians Charlie Parker, Dizzy Gillespie, and Thelonius Monk
as their musical leaders. Some of them were drawn to Denver by
Neal Cassady, a street kid, car thief, and master seducer who
grew up here. Cassady was brilliant, handsome, and possessed of
an insatiable and omnivorous sexual appetite. He became an apostle
of free love, of liberation from puritanical restraint, of just
doing it. Women and men were both fair game for him, and he enjoyed
them all, declaring, "The worst sex I ever had was great!"
chronicled his exploits in endless raps and long letters that
inspired the shyer Kerouac and Ginsberg to throw off their restrictive
upbringings and express their full personalities, both sexually
Beats created an art of the moment, of spontaneous expression
of feelings, of nonstop, nonjudgmental enthusiasm for life. Through
their lives and works, they helped to summon back the Dionysian
spirit that had been forced down into the subconscious of our
Greek god Dionysus personifies ecstasy, impulsiveness, surging
life energy that demands free release. When he has sole reign,
anarchy ensues. But when he is banished, as under puritanism,
the joy and creativity wither in the human spirit. Dionysus' return
from exile was spurred by the Beats, broke into the mainstream
with the Hippies, burgeoned out with the sexual revolution, and
is still going on. This memoir of our forbidden love will take
it the inevitable next step further.
credo of the Beats was movement, as expressed by Cassady's mantra,
"Go!" They were travelers, ever restless, shunning the
stay-put, routine, settled life. Dowdy Denver turned out to be
a handy stopping off place on their journeys along the great triangle
of New York-California-Mexico City. All these factors combined
to give Denver an itinerant bohemian subculture, small but vital.
Beats attracted Diana, who was the rebellious daughter of a conservative
banker. She rejected the material comfort and emotional sterility
of her family, and instead sought out this new wild breed. Rather
than becoming a debutante like her mother, she became a teenybopper
beatnik, hanging out in the coffee houses and jazz clubs that
made up the Denver underground. She imbibed be-bop, free verse,
action paintings, and philosophers of protest such as Albert Camus,
Jean-Paul Sartre, and Wilhelm Reich. She wore her hair long and
let it grow under her arms, European style. She was cute, sassy,
and uninhibited, so attracted many men. She had brief flings with
Cassady and alto-sax man Sonny Stitt before taking up with Jacquot
Funk, a self-named anarchist poet and importer of Mexican herbs.
I made the scene, Jacquot decided fatherhood was a bring down.
Rug rats weren't his style. He packed his rucksack and went back
on the road. Mom got a postcard from him once from Tangier but
pulled herself together and, at eighteen, accepted her new role
as single mother. It was difficult. She was a free spirit, and
now she had a huge responsibility: yours truly. She decided she
needed a college degree, so she pushed aside her Beat disrespect
for academics and enrolled in the University of Colorado at Boulder,
majoring in cultural anthropology. Maintaining her nonconformist
ways, she became active in the Young People's Socialist League
and the Congress of Racial Equality. She toted me along to classes,
to civil rights demonstrations, and to the Ten O'clock Scholar
and the Sink, the hang-outs for the few fifties' fringies at the
parents footed the bill. They'd been mortified by her pregnancy
and were relieved when she "left that disgusting milieu and
got back in line by going to college."
discovered she liked mental work and poured herself into her studies.
She went on to law school, an outgrowth of her political activism,
and became a criminal defense attorney. The Denver Public Defender's
office offered her a position, which she accepted.
attorneys use a stint as a Public Defender to gain experience
before moving on to big-time criminals who view large legal fees
as CDB: Cost of Doing Business. But Diana stayed with it, defending
poor, uneducated people who made mistakes out of desperation.
on, while she was still naive, she fell in love with one of her
clients, a charming, good-looking crook who stole her cash and
jewelry. This happening after Jacquot's desertion must have soured
her on men. In the years that followed she dated and had an occasional
affair, but it didn't go beyond that, and she became pretty much
of a career woman. But when I got rheumatic fever and had to miss
a year of school, she cut her hours back to half time so she could
take care of me.
and I had a good relationship until I hit puberty, and even then
it wasn't terrible, just typical. Since we knew each other so
well, we could still communicate, but it was too often a communication
of anger and frustration. I was sullen and rude, she nagging and
high-strung. The tension between us was palpable, blocking us
from each other, pushing us away. In retrospect I can see that
we were fighting our urges, trying to alienate the other person
to avoid embracing them.
we discovered the joys of the embrace, there was no going back.
Our passion was unstoppable.
evening, though, while we were still in shock, Diana had an attack
of conventionality and tried to call a halt to it. We were in
the living room, she sitting in her leather chair and I sprawled
as usual on the matching couch, watching a new TV show, Saturday
Night Live. John Belushi and Bill Murray were playing astronauts
who had landed on the moon only to discover Gilda Radner sun-bathing
there in a bikini. Both men instantly fell in love with the moon
maiden. After much pulling and tugging John managed to get out
of his space suit but then floated away into the void as soon
as he stepped towards her. Bill swung her over his shoulder and
started to carry her into his lunar landing craft, but she yanked
out his hose and he shriveled into a little pile of plastic. Mission
Control kept calling, "Eagle, come in, Eagle," while
Gilda blithely went back to sun-bathing.
commercial came on, and Diana turned to me with a grave look that
brought out lines on her lovely, auburn-framed face. "I've
been thinking about what happened." She spoke carefully,
as if she'd rehearsed the speech, but as she continued, her voice
crumbled. "I think we should just...pretend it didn't...happen...forget
it. We would never've done anything like that if we hadn't been
tripped out. Even on grass we wouldn't have done that. It was
the mescaline. So...we should just write it off as a bad trip...and
get back to normal." She tried to give me her little mom
smile, but her face was bleak and baleful.
felt as if a wrecking ball had crashed into my chest, crushing
it to a pulp. My throat was pinched so I couldn't breathe. I stared
at her, and she glanced away from my stricken face. I burst into
tears. Humiliated to be crying in front of her, I hid my face.
She couldn't just cut everything off like that. It was too cruel.
I wouldn't let her. I marched over to her, weeping and distraught.
opened her arms to comfort me, and I collapsed into her, tears
streaming, face scrinched. After our two frolics I'd been feeling
so grown up and sophisticated, but her words reduced me to a bawling
little boy. Resenting her power over me but needing her all the
more, I burrowed under her baggy pink cotton sweater. It was cozy
underneath, like a tent. She was so warm and soft and smelled
so good. She couldn't take all that away and leave me with only
patted my head, but that made me feel worse because she was treating
me like a child again. Without thinking, just reacting on instinct,
I lifted her bra, and her creamy pink treasures flowed out to
me, glad to see me again.
patting stopped. "Please, Tommy, don't. We really can't anymore."
pay any attention to her, her tatas seemed to tell me. Sometimes
she's impossible. Just ignore her when she gets this way. Now
give us a kiss.
weeping, I snuggled into them, loving their splendid roundness,
their proud fatness. As a nipple slid into my mouth, I could almost
hear it squeal with delight: Yes! That's what we want!
was what I wanted too—wanted and needed. I gorged myself
on her, gurgling with contentment like a nursing infant, and my
tears stopped. I was still sniffling and my nose was dripping
onto them, but they didn't mind. We all felt much better. From
deep within them, their peace flowed into me, calming me like
a magic potion. Everything was all right again.
don't let us go, they told me. We'll show her who's boss. Simple
solution to the problem: hold on to us and keep sucking. She'll
beyond the pink, mom's voice droned, "Stop...this can't go
on. We made a mistake, it was an accident, and now we'll stop...and
get back to normal. No one will know...and we'll forget about
it. Please, Tommy!"
kept sucking one and squeezing the other, both so big and fine.
I cupped my palm like a mouth over the nipple and nipped it gently,
feeling it harden at my touch. Yes!
sighed, but her hand tried to push my head away. "Do-o-on't,"
she drawled. She didn't push with much effort, though, and as
I kept sucking and squeezing, the push turned into a stroke on
my head, and she sighed again. Holding her tight, I nestled and
slurped at her soft chest of wonders.
slid off the leather chair together onto the thick shag rug, with
me holding on for dear life. She tried to sit up, but I leaned
into her until she gave in and lay back down. As she sensed my
desperation, her maternal instincts took over; she wrapped her
arms around me and mothered me with her body. "Don't cry,"
she crooned, "my baby...baby."
sniffling stopped and I reveled in her caring. I rolled on top
of her, craving to be even closer. I also wanted to show her I
wasn't a baby, even though right now I felt like one and loved
her calling me that. With all mom's curvy contours underneath
me, I relaxed totally, still very childlike and vulnerable, my
head buried under her sweater.
tried to part her legs by nudging mine between them, but they
resisted. "Ple-e-ease," I whined, rubbing and tugging
at her thighs. Gradually they opened to let me in. As I squirmed
deeper, she hugged me with her legs but then began crying. The
struggle within her poured out in great sobs, and she convulsed
with shame. "I'm a monster. Only a monster would do this."
Diana was the desperate one. I left her breasts, emerged from
the pink, and took her in my arms to comfort and cuddle her. "That's
a lot of old lies. Don't believe it," I told her, wiping
tears from her cheeks. "There's nobody here but us...and
it's right for us." I held mom's crying face in my hands
and kissed her snuffling mouth, trying to heal her hurt.
I continued to kiss, she began nibbling back at my lips, like
a little girl distracted from her tears by sweets. I wanted so
much to soothe her and protect her so she'd never cry again. "You're
so beautiful," I said, stroking her reddish-brown hair and
was now enjoying being the powerful one just as much as I'd enjoyed
being the baby before. But the lump in my jeans was becoming painful,
so I pressed it into her jeans, denim to denim. As she felt my
adamance, Diana reflexively arched her hips into mine but then
turned her face aside, mortified by her urges.
need each other," I told her, fondling her breasts and pressing
my bulge in an insistent circle against her groin. I kissed and
licked the tense tendons of her neck until they relaxed and her
drew in a long gasp through clenched teeth, dug her fingers into
my back, and whimpered. Collapsing into my arms, mom offered up
her mouth to me in a fountain of surrender and let me kiss her
deeply. My tongue probed in, hers rose to meet it, and they thrust
and twisted around each other in a dance of lust.
the TV Dan Ackroyd was doing a Richard Nixon imitation. I reached
up and clicked it off, then pulled off the pink sweater and untangled
the bra from around her shoulders. Mom's tits, large and proud,
smiled up at me in happy triumph. We can handle her—piece
of cake, they seemed to say. Exhausted by her inner turmoil, she
had become submissive. The resistance had vanished from her face,
leaving it a placid oval of willingness. Her buttery brown eyes
were unfocused, almost stunned, and her full lips parted wanly.
Diana let me pull off her jeans, then watched with increasing
focus while I stripped down to my shorts.
snuggled next to her, wanting to touch as much of her warm smooth
skin as I could. Our eyes met in a crossfire of desire, terror,
and joy. The gaze was too intense; I was afraid it might start
us talking, which could lead to problems, so I kissed the crinkled
corners of her eyes until they closed. Then I kissed her ear,
sucked its lobe pierced by a gold and coral stud, ran my tongue
around the seashell rim, blew in it, listened for the sound of
the sea coming from within her, licked down into the curlicued
spiral to taste the bitter salt of her wax. She shivered with
pleasure and inhaled deeply, dilating her nostrils.
my fingertips I delicately traced the line of chestnut wisps from
her neck, up over her temple, and across her high, broad forehead.
Breath soughed out between her white teeth and red, kiss-glistening
lips. My touch pleased her, which pleased me. As I explored her
beauty, the inviting hollow between her neck and shoulder drew
my attention, and I pressed kisses onto its thin, freckled skin.
Mom lay back on the rug, conquered, compliant, open, willing to
let me do whatever I wanted.
so desperate now, I took my time, grazing again on her breasts,
getting to know the sides and slopes of them, the calculus of
their curves. My fingers slid beneath Diana's pink panties and
sought her center, exploring its brambly mound and damp grotto.
Her cavern was alive and moved to my touch; amid her folds and
tucks, hidden springs flowed with slippery juices. Heat filled
its chambers from the center of her earth. This cave was my home;
it had made me and now wanted me back just as much as I wanted
to come back.
tugged at my underpants but was too subdued to be very effective.
I pulled them off, and my rod sprang out at her. She took one
look at this long thick red thing she had made, then closed her
eyes and clamped her jaw in a grimace of fear and craving.
pulled her wetties off and gazed at her hairy hillock while inhaling
its tangy lure, the scent of the ocean from which life emerged
and longs to return.
her urgently now but not sure of what to do, I lay on top of her.
Diana spread her legs but was too dazed to do more. Somehow I
thought it was supposed to go in automatically, but it didn't.
It was bouncing against all sorts of interesting anatomy but was
still an outsider trying to get in. Daunted by engineering problems,
I was beginning to feel foolish, helpless, frustrated. Mom sprawled
supine, hands back over her head, passive and ready. She had guided
me in before, but now I had to learn to do it myself. I groped
around the moist terrain, exploring overhanging ridges and angles
of access, and discovered I was trying to enter from too high.
I lowered my approach, nudging in from farther under, and the
tip of my impatient shaft finally parted her folds to be greeted
by a warm, wet hug. Good to have you again, her nest seemed to
say. Glad you managed to find your way. Come in and play.
more of this intrusion, she moved her hips in a small swivel,
and another inch of me slipped into her tight inner squeeze which
flowed with fluid heat and encircled me with delight. My whole
body, my whole being lit up with joy. This is IT! This is THE
PLACE! This is HEAVEN! Just where Saint Peter belongs, I thought,
pushing him in another inch.
long moan sounded from Diana's arched neck and open mouth. Her
lips and closed eyelids quivered. Her loins swayed to make more
I rocked in the cradle of her thighs. Exuberant, I frolicked belly
to belly with her. Exultant, I buried myself in her middle and
wrapped her in my arms, possessing her inside and out. Pushing
deeper, I made her writhe and groan. I felt mighty now, and she
clung to me, seeming small and vulnerable.
gazed at the naked beauty of my mother stretched underneath me,
yielding to me and needing more of what I was giving her. I wanted
to feel all of her at once, but that was impossible. My lips dipped
down and snagged a nipple, drew it up into my greedy mouth, sucked
in as much of her as would fit. My cheeks bulged with her lovely
sweetie," she said. She was filling me and I was filling
her; we were plugged into each other, joined in mutual fulfillment.
sheath loosened to caress all of me, and I could move in and out,
plumbing her depths with long thrusts that made her grunt and
gurgle. Diana drew my head back to look at me, as if to make sure
it was really me making love to her, then she smiled and kissed
undulated around me, hot and wet as a stormy tropic sea, and I
was splashing and playing in her waters, happy as a porpoise.
was too much, too great, I wanted it all right now and I was moving
too fast for it to last. From deep within me, sperm throbbed up
the channel of my phallus, building momentum with each of my frantic
thrusts, pumping and pounding until it erupted forth and gushed
out in long spurts of ecstasy.
she felt the hot splash in her core, Diana held me tighter. "Yes...oh,
YES! Give it to me!"
was out of control, bellowing with bliss, mating with mother while
she went wild beneath me.
surges slackened and I flailed around on her in a swirl of sensations.
I pressed my face against hers. "Whew...thank you."
welcome," mom said. "Now...maybe you could give me...a
few kisses down there...so I can come too."
didn't know she hadn't. In my ignorance and egotism I assumed
she must've had the same experience I had. Now I wanted to make
sure she did. Kiss her down there...that sounded interesting.
Plus I'd get to explore her some more.
body was tense with anticipation as I moved over it. Satiated
by my climax, I could focus totally on her. My eyes drank in her
geography, seeing her midlands up close for the first time. Her
flat tummy narrowed and gave way to broad hips. At her span of
least diameter, I kissed the dimpled crater of her belly button,
then moved my hand over to feel mine, the spot where I'd been
joined to her. I imagined the umbilical cord running from my tummy
back up into her womb after I was born, still connected and feeding
me. It was like the cord between my legs that had just gone back
in to feed her. I was so glad she let me, so much luckier than
Bill Murray had been with his moon maiden.
browsed the territory between Diana's hips, brushing my lips over
the pale skin which sloped down to a little mound topped with
a thicket of tight black curls. These vines cascaded over a cliff
that disappeared into the steep ravine of her closed legs, leaving
only a dark bushy triangle visible.
it, I thought—mommy's pussy. It seemed so delicate and shy.
Kiss it. I planted my lips atop the mound. I expected her to explode
into an orgasm, but instead she raised her knees and spread her
legs, exposing the viney cliff. It was cleft down the middle,
open, dark, moist, ready for examination. Eager to know more,
I moved into the V of her legs and took a good look. What I saw
scared the hell out of me. A furry gash like a raw wound gaped
between her legs, as if she'd ripped the flesh when she'd spread
them. In the center of this furrow, purplish red lips splayed
out around an open pit from which drooled the gray gruel I'd given
her. Swampy smells of our fluids wafted from it, enticing and
repelling. It wasn't a pussy anymore but a lioness in heat, livid
she was the strong one and I was limp. I gazed in fearful amazement
at this hairy maw which had given me birth and had just taken
me for a trip to heaven. It was so earthy, so primal. From each
side of her trunk jutted wide, thick thighs. Beneath them spread
her bottom, its puckered, pink hole and two lush cheeks forming
a larger version of her front.
groin of Diana's was like the basement of a building where the
beams and girders come together with the plumbing and furnace.
I was awed by her architecture. Aboveground her structure was
beautiful and graceful; her fundament, though, was too powerful
to be pretty. Down here was another world, the underworld, the
ur-world of femininity. Confronted by all this, I felt tiny as
a bug or a baby.
me, it said.
I did. Surrendering to its force, I stretched myself reverently
before the red redolent shrine of the Goddess.
it a little kiss," she said.
pressed my lips into her fur, which tickled my nose.
pulled back and stared into her wet chasm, the insides of which
could swallow me up forever. Enter! it commanded imperiously.
I buried my face in mom's wonderfully icky, sticky, stinky cunt,
it greeted me with a burst of energy that made my body tingle.
Hungry for more of this charge, I burrowed my nose, lips, and
tongue through her labyrinth, licked her slick lips, and drank
the salty, mushroomy cream I'd given her. I sucked her folds,
nodes, and fluffy ruffles and inhaled her fishy bouquet.
was panting and her body vibrating as it twisted into my face.
As I continued feasting, she began writhing faster. She stroked
my head and mumbled, "Oh...my dear boy. Don't stop...don't
ever stop. OH! Please! YES!"
was galloping now, her crotch a soft slippery saddle. I almost
lost hold, but her thighs squeezed me in where I belonged so I
could ride her bucks and heaves as they built to a frenzy of release.
My wild filly neighed and whinnied as she thrashed around the
rug, and I held on, loving the ride she was giving me. She slowed
to a canter, then to a trot, and finally halted. I rested my cheek
on her thigh, hair in my mouth, face smeared with our mingled
juices. "Wow!" was all I could say.
up and give me a hug," my filly said.
I moved back up, I noticed a rosy flush across her chest, and
her nipples were firm, dark, and prickled as strawberries. I kissed
each one and licked around its lusciousness, then kissed Diana
on the mouth, wanted her to taste our broth. We clasped each other
in a swarm of happiness, cooing and rubbing and patting.
convinced me," she whispered. "No more objections. What
we've got between us...it's too strong for me to fight. Have to
just enjoy it. But not a word to anyone. The world isn't ready
put my finger, still fragrant, across my mouth. "My lips
a kiss." Mom's lips fused with mine, long and lingering.
When they parted, she propped herself up on her elbow and asked
me: "Do you...uh, do this often...with girls?"
the first," I said, "but I want to do it often...with
face wrinkled with dismay. "You were a virgin?" She
clutched me to her and began sobbing again. "I took my own
son's virginity? That's terrible!"
great!" I hugged mom and kissed her cheek. "I can't
think of a better way. I must've been saving myself for you...without
even knowing it. And believe me, it was worth it."
stared at the ceiling, stunned. "Who would've ever thought
this would happen?"
turned her head towards me and captured her brown eyes with mine.
"Wasn't it good?"
A smile broke through her tension. "Very. Now that you mention
forget what the world says. It's between us." I stroked her
back and rubbed our two very different chests together.
sighed, her body relaxing in acceptance of a passion stronger
than society's ban. "OK...I can't help it...I'm yours. So
then...kiss me again." She pressed herself tighter against
me. "Your first time...I'm so flattered that you picked me.
I guess you weren't disappointed...because you sure came back
for more. My bold boy...kiss me. Always."
brushed my lips against hers. "I love you."
love me always. That's the only way we can make it right."
Her eyes were closed and her lips looked almost swollen as they
merged into mine.
touched me delicately with her fingers and I came to life again
and while still kissing I plunged into her nether lips again and
we rolled coupled to the rhythms of man and woman slowly now with
delicious exhausted yearning until we grew and swelled and burst
with joy and poured our juices together once again.
were lying in our wetness, which had become a dark amoeba-shaped
stain on the colorful abstract design of the Rya rug. On the far
side, last night's stain had now dried to a matted beige. Mom
tried to mop up the soup with her underpants, but they were already
sopped, so she used mine. "We can have it cleaned,"
she said with a shrug.
we should leave them...as souvenirs," I suggested.
kissed me again, lightly. "We don't need souvenirs. Now we
can do it whenever we want. But not on the rug." She gave
my damp cock an appreciative pat. "Well...maybe if we put
a towel under us."
for Chapters: ONE,
TWO, or THREE
For more information about TABOO:
A MEMOIR click on the bookcover:
© 2005 by Tom Hathaway
All rights reserved.