Content Warning : Do you want to continue?
This poem contains content which some readers may find disturbing.
It is unsuitable for children or anyone who is easily offended.

YES
I am over 18 years old, I have been warned and I still want to read this poem.
NO
I don't want to read this type of content, take me back to the previous page.


deepundergroundpoetry.com

Image for the poem Gods and Molasses 1 - with Thinningveil

Gods and Molasses 1 - with Thinningveil

In the underling years of my ABCs and getting my mouth washed out with soap, my sister and I made do with sneaking peeks as mom screwed the hermit preacher. You wouldn't believe the number of times, my sister and I had to confess to the man who drove a Cadillac, from the dealership he worked in Savannah. My mom delighted in being saved, several times a week. It showed in her glow. Forcing us to witness her transformation. Whatever that meant as she went down on the hermit and other salespeople. She called them the disciples of Wynter Parrish. The community where we lived.  
    
The 40 acres soon became a nudist haven for wayfaring bible thumpers and sharecroppers who grew sugarcane The human body and mind, unashamed, unfaked. This is how I lived it, aroused with sexual passion and no taboos. It's an imperfect world but it's my molasses.    
     
I arrived at puberty's door failing to take advantage of my hand. My mom ruled with an iron claw and forbade the leakage of semen. I love her dearly and over the years, she has softened. We were "homeschooled and spent several summers at a nudist colony for Christians. It didn't work out so well.    
     
The other kids my age in the commune did not shy away from their nudity, but my size or lack of, made me self-conscious. I had become close to a kid name Kole, and we traded blow jobs. Sometimes several times a day. My sister became a confidante, but with demands. Then came the little red dress and her insisting that I get a cock piercing.      
     
I had recently been sneaking out at night to rendezvous with Kole wearing only a pair of my mom's panties. The evening vespers brought with it the viewing of me in a dress. The choir hummed, mom cried happy and my sister went below my dress.    
   
I was morphing into a dream, not knowing that the gods had come home to roost.
Written by AtticusAbbey
Published
Author's Note
More to follow.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 3 reading list entries 0
comments 6 reads 286
Commenting Preference: 
The author is looking for friendly feedback.

Latest Forum Discussions
COMPETITIONS
Today 4:56am by NANCY_RDZ_STORIES
SPEAKEASY
Today 4:15am by Grace
SPEAKEASY
Today 3:33am by DCLXVI_1989
COMPETITIONS
Today 00:41am by Louismatteo349
SPEAKEASY
Yesterday 11:19pm by Ahavati
POETRY
Yesterday 11:05pm by Grace