Growing Up In The Dirty South

Childhood memories never leave you. I was ten, so old enough to remember. It happened in our home. My mother was a single and needed money all the time. She entertained men, a nice word for being a prostitute at times. But she didn't flaunt it in front of me and kept it in the bedroom. There was no Uncle Tom, or this is Uncle Bruce. These men came and went and we never saw them again.

Going back to when I was ten. I heard my mother 'yelp'. Then again. Then 'don't do that'. Then 'no'. Them yelp again and again. I got curious and went to the door of her room. She was whining, or crying, another yelp, another 'stop that'. I opened the door. She was naked on the bed. He was standing over her with his belt in his hand. 'Smack' he hit her thigh, she yelped. Then again. He dropped his pants and she opened her legs and he got on her, but he wasn't able to have sex with her (i had witnessed enough to know when a man was having sex with my mom). He got angry and he hit her and got off and called her names.

He threw the money at her and walked out, past me and out the door. My mother covered herself with he blouse and I walked in and she said he couldn't fuck. Men that can't fuck are the worst, she told me. If he can't get hard to fuck you, don't get involved, those are the ones that beat you up.

My mother never tried to hide that she was a prostitute from me. As I grew older she told me she wanted me to amount to something, so I had to stay in school. Keep your nose clean and your legs crossed and pay attention. Don't suck a boy or let a boy fuck you, keep your legs crossed. As a prostitute my mother did ok, she made enough money to pay the rent and send me to school.

I got fucked, it had to happen. It happened at a job I had when I was sixteen. I worked after school with this man and woman who had a business writing letters to public officials. They knew how to write and most everyone didn't, so the client would pay them. I was there and I was filing like I was told and he picked me up by the hair, until I had to stand on my tip toes. You have a nice little ass he told me. His wife told him to leave me alone. But he didn't, he bent me over the desk he sat at and held me down with his hand around my neck and with the other hand he reached up my dress and pushed my panties down until he could get a finger in me. Then he undid his pants and he stuck his dick in me. He was hard, he didn't need to beat me.

I told my mother and I didn't go back there. Now we have a vigil she told me. We waited, day one, day two, day three, and so on. My period was late, but it was late off and on. Day eight, day nine. Then I bled. And bled. And bled. And my mother was relieved. So was I.

I finished school and went to a night school to learn business and I got a scholarship for the junior college and one day I graduated with a degree in Business from the four year state school. No one had fucked me after that first time. I had learned to watch for that look in a man's eyes.

I picked a man who was always hard. He fucked me all the time. As long as he was fucking he wasn't beating me up. I lived with him for five years before he started asking me to get pregnant. I told him no babies unless I was married. So I got married. My kids all know who their father is, I never found out who my father was. My mother continued being a prostitute as long as she could get men, and then worked as an overnight waitress.

I had a house and my kids went to a normal school and we had Christmas and went on vacations. I never told my husband about my mother and the men that came over or of the time that man fucked me when I was sixteen. When he met my mother she was a waitress. My mother told me to keep my scary moment to myself, men liked to think they are the only one.