Then I heard my aunt and my mother yelling at each other. I didn’t know what to do, so I just stood there with my pants around my ankles, hoping Mama would rescue me. He howled so loud it scared me silly. I stood frozen with fear and confusion, thinking, “Why is she spanking him? Is she coming after me next?” She grabbed my cousin’s arm and smacked his bottom all the way up to the kitchen where she continued whaling the daylights out of him. My aunt flew down the cellar steps so fast I thought she would fall. “Aunt Bernice, I’m showing Sonny how I pee.” Sonny yelled back, “I’m watching Betty pee on some rocks.” That’s what we were doing when my aunt opened the cellar door and yelled down the stairs, “What are you kids doin’ down there?” We thought it was so funny that we fell down on the dirt laughing and then took turns seeing what it looked like when pee came out of each other’s pappies. I let it go and everything but my target got wet. I couldn’t see where to aim, so he knelt down to guide me. Just watch me hit that baby rock right there.” I pointed to a nearby pebble, pulled down my flour-sack panties, and squatted over the target. After Sonny performed his next trick, he said, “Can you do that?” My cousin’s “pappy” looked pretty much the same as my little brother’s. “Okay,” and I got up close to get a better look.
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“Come over here and I’ll show you how I did it,” he offered. He took careful aim and again hit his mark squarely on top. “That thing,” I said, pointing to a board farther away. I didn’t think it was such a big deal, but Sonny, all puffed up with pride, said, “Pick something else for me to hit.” “Can too,” he replied, and he proved it to me. We tossed them to see if we could hit a nearby pail when my cousin said, “If you dare me to, I can pee right on top of that big rock over there.” Under our bare feet were lots of little stones. Even though it had been a sad experience, I’d loved the smell of the damp hole in the earth. It smelled like the deep hole that Dad dug when he had to bury a puppy that died. My aunt’s cellar had a floor and walls of dirt. Their cellar was different from the basement under Grandmother Peal’s house, which had concrete walls and floors. It was during a visit to my aunt’s house that Sonny and I decided to play in the cellar. Mama and Aunt Bernice got together once a week to sit around the kitchen table to gossip, drink coffee, and giggle while Sonny and I played and the babies drooled all over each other in the playpen. Sonny and I were four years old, and we both had baby brothers. My favorite cousin shared his steely marbles with me whenever I was extra special nice to him, so I was nice to him all the time. Guest Post: Sandi Corbitt-Sears, Editor.
NIFTY GAY STORIES AUNT HOW TO
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Homemade Booze: a story that didn’t get into “The Home for the Friendless.”.Welcome to the Home for the Friendless.
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