Date: Tue, 10 Dec 2002 16:25:07 EST
From: Tomnick9@aol.com
Subject: Save the Farm by Thomas Hanrahan (lesbian mother/daughter melodrama)

It was Thanksgiving day. The saddest one I could ever remember. I was
downstairs watching the parade and Mama was upstairs resting when the
doorbell rang. I took awhile answering it. I didn't care who it was at the
door because I knew it wouldn't be my Daddy.

It was Daddy's friend Mr. Tekampe who was a loan officer at the Chemical
Bank in Harvard. He was my favorite of Daddy's friends and I think Mama's
too. Even though I didn't think I could be I was terribly glad to see him.

He walked right past me and into the living room put his briefcase down and
began to set up a video camera on a tripod. Over his shoulder he said to
me. "Chenille, Saturday is expecting me. Could you fetch her down here?
There is something I need to discuss with the both of you."

I called to Mama from the bottom of the stairwell. "Mama. Mama! Mr. Tekampe
is here." Mama said something I couldn't discern what. My heart broke open
wider when she appeared a few minutes later wearing a hospital gown and
nothing more. My poor, delicate, beautiful Mama had lost her mind. The
strain of Daddy's death was just too much for her.

As soon as I thought my world had finished crumbling around me Mr. Tekampe
spoke. " Your daddy died broke Chenille. The bank would have sold the note
on the farm months ago if I hadn't bought it myself. I'd like to will the
property in perpetuity to you and your mama after I'm gone and from what my
doctor says that won't be long but, as a proud American and Capitalist.
I'm spiritually incapable of giving something for nothing."

What the hell! I say again. What the hell! What did Mr. Tekampe want? How
did Daddy end up dead and broke? He'd always seemed so alive and rich. My
mind was spinning and the world was spinning counterclockwise against my
mind and the universe was spinning clockwise against the earth and the
whole time God is a laughing and beating off.

Jesus is trying to talk him out of it and the dearly departed are running
for cover and to make matters worse my poor, delicate, beautiful, crazy,
crazy mama aroused by all this blasphemy, cum and centrifugal force was
playing with herself. At 10:30 in the A.M.? Was this the same woman who
used to get mad at me for singing at the dinner table?  Her pussy lips were
wading and a drooling in her juices when she said the terrible thing to
me. "Your father loved you very much Chenille. He also loved this farm and
wanted to leave it as a legacy to you and your grandchildren and they're
grandchildren . There is no shame in what we will do for Mr. Tekampe today.
Come here Chenille."

I'd been with plenty of my girl cousins and I had always wanted a little
sister but , this was my first time with mama. She folded my little hand
into a fist and I fist fucked mama good and hard for putting me in such an
socially awkward situation. Mr. Tekampe was clapping his hands I think. At
least that's what it sounded like. I didn't know for sure and I was afraid
to look at him.

I ate mama's pussy. She sucked my toes. I sucked her ass. She ate my
pussy. Mr. Tekampe clapped so hard I blacked out. I dreamed I ate Mama's
pussy while she sucked my pussy and then my toes. I didn't dream about
sucking her ass. Then I dreamed that lived I lived on a giant golden plated
slot car track and a giant golden plated Godzilla ruled over the slot car
track and I worked at a golden plated daycare center in the infield called
"Mini-Jews" Godzilla was ranting and raving about the state of the culture
and all the mini- jews where screaming and running for cover . Then I
dreamed I was eating Chinese food and I found a five dollar bill rolled up
in the middle of the pork fried rice and someone had written "Don't Call"
in black marker on the five dollar bill and all the while Mr. Tekampe is
laughing and clapping and missing his spit cup .Then I was riding in a car
with the stranger and I told him to let me out here but he wouldn't let me
out here and then he sped up the car and reached out for me and somehow his
whole hand could wrap itself around my head and I dreamed I woke up
screaming.

When I regained myself. Mama was staring up at me from between my own legs.
She looked at me sheepish with the brown eyes we shared and her face was
smeared with the residue of our ancestral lust .

Mr. Tekampes last words that afternoon where "That was a good start
ladies."

I accused mama. " How come he didn't take the camera with him mama?"

"The camera was my idea to keep Mr. Tekampe honest." She said.

We owe Mr. Tekampe $450,000 in documented unholy lust. Sometimes we save
the farm without the camera and without. Mr. Tekampe. I've started looking
for my birth mother but, Mama swears up and down that I'm not adopted and
she's probably right. Anyway she's too cute to stay mad at and Daddy
wouldn't have wanted us to lose the farm.