My first time was in an outhouse outside Lynchburg, Virginia.
It wasn't cramped after I kicked the goat out.
I don't think it's weird to have sex with my mom, looks don't meant that much to me in a woman.
Well, we were drunk off our God-fearing asses on Campari, ginger ale, and soda---that's called Fire and Brimstone--at the time. And mom looked better than a Baptist whore with a 100$ donation.
The Campari was great, but Mom passed out before I could come lots of times. But not in the outhouse. Between Mom and the shit, the flies were too much to bear.
I always get sloshed before I go out to the pulpit. You don't think I could lay down all that bullshit sober, do you?