She was such a bitch anyway.I felt for her. She’d tried to do it right, to be the good wife, and somehow it had still all gone wrong.She hadn’t be...n laid in a while, like a proper while. I could smell that on her too. And she’d never been fucked how she’d fantasised. That was the difference in our generations. I was seventeen and had already begun searching out my depraved needs - hers was the generation where porn meant fat men fucking thin chicks, just so men could get off without feeling. .My mother had to take care of my older brother Joshua and younger sister Aiyanna. Our father, Brad Peterson, left her after a rocky marriage because the Muskogee nation couldn't take my mother marrying an Anglo man. He was irresponsible, and didn't care much for us kids anyhow.My father left when I was seventeen, he was a heavy smoker, alcoholic, and domestic abuser. It would pain me to see the welts upon my mother's face and body after he had stormed out of the trailer to visit the local bar. More

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