Eden Shrugged: Unabridged Edition “For the Last Shall Be First”

By Eamon Mc Ghee Jr.

This is for all the Mary Magdalenes of the world.

“A spiritual fantasy that presents an alternative morality based on the reservoir of kindness and goodness that abides in the primal instincts and desires of women of passion.”

This is a spiritual form of erotica, not for voyeurs or prudes, that reconciles reality with morality, sexuality, and spirituality. Feminists interpreting the scriptures as written while condemning the white-male-dominated evangelical fundamentalist movement may nudge some readers out of their comfort zone, but this compelling new erotic novel that transcends fiction will force readers to redefine God and the rules of engagement in the game of love.

This is an adult, erotic fairy tale about one family’s journey through life and the obstacles they overcame with their never-ending love, passion, desire, and loyalty. The story begins with the coming of age of Melissa Stark. It chronicles her identity crisis as she struggles with her sexuality and her antiestablishment tendencies, trying to reconcile the way things are with the way she thought things ought to be. The story then becomes interwoven with the fabric of life for the rest of her loving and caring family. Melissa was a passionate, rebellious young girl who came from a long line of fiercely independent, liberated women. In the biblical sense, she was the youngest of three generations of modern-day Mary Magdalene–type nymphomaniacs. Like her mother and grandmother before her, she struggled with her passions and desires as she fought back against the oppressive persecution of the religious fundamentalists. She was a free-spirited truth seeker, wise beyond her years. Her relentless pursuit of the stream of consciousness of a higher power brought her to an Eden-like place full of peace and love and tolerance. The story chronicles the connection between divine intervention and a series of incredible coincidences that made her family’s unconventional love come full cycle.

This story also explores the inherent connection between spirituality and sexuality that defines us all as human beings and sanctifies our primal essence. The family in this story clung to one another in times of tragedy and loss, and they nurtured one another with love and kindness and understanding. Their love and kindness and empathy enabled them to survive the suffocating dominance and persecution of the evangelical fundamentalists who were envious of their love and passion. This story strongly rejects the pop culture myth that men are from Mars and women are from Venus as a frivolous rationalization that could lead to the acceptance of misogyny and reverse misogyny. This story strongly suggests that we are all from one place—Eden.

Reconciling reality with normality and morality may well be one of the most monumental tasks any human being can ever undertake. Most folks just put this task in the hands of God and muddle through. The lovable, good-natured children of Eden in this story also delegated this task to God, and it all worked out well for them. You might end up loving and identifying with many of the major characters in this story if you outsource your judgmental inhibitions to God and be one with your creator. It is my fervent wish that this frugal chariot I am offering you bears your human soul to a place of peace and love and tolerance.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: May 5, 2018
• ISBN: 9781546240068

Eamon Mc Ghee Jr.

I am the son of two Irish immigrants who came to this great land many years ago to find a new life. On June 16, Fathers’ Day, the two of them created a twelve-pound, four-ounce bundle of joy that ended up giving them many gray hairs and wrinkles on the rocky road to his horizon. The lessons they taught me and the love and kindness they always showed me made me the man I am today. Although they are no longer here on earth with us, their spirit still lives on inside me. I will now attempt to explain to you exactly what this twelve-pound, four-ounce creature turned into and why. Someone once asked me, “Did God create man, or did man create God?” I said, “Why do you want to know? Why does it matter? What would you do with that information if you had it? Both entities exist at this juncture, so what difference does it make? Clearly, the only empirical answer to that question is, it’s either one or the other.” That answer was good enough for me. Thank God for people who ask time-sensitive questions like these about God eons too late. Where would we be without them? Or a better question might be where would they be without their questions? At a very early age, I began to see that intellectuals spent a lot of their time on mental masturbation; they wallowed in pondering the “chicken or egg” mystery and the “If a tree falls in the forest” pyridine. I’ve always tried to avoid all intellectual pursuits. I’m sort of an allectual—a cause-and-effect, action-and-reaction sort of person. I focus on the eternal beauty of our primal id that makes us who and what we are. If and when a tree falls in the forest, I have no interest in analyzing the sound waves it produces literally, metaphorically, or in a philosophical way. The first thing I think of is will there be enough yellow caution tape in place to prevent nature lovers from getting injured? I have a tendency to use the word “next” much more often than I use the word “why.” It is with this mind-set that I tell my stories about the common, everyday gentle souls that dwell within the common, everyday male and female human bodies as they go through life seeking the truths that matter to them in the here and now.

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Copyright © 2018 Eamon Mc Ghee Jr. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

New International Version (NIV)

Holy Bible, New International Version®, NIV® Copyright ©1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.® Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide.

Published by AuthorHouse    09/26/2018

ISBN: 978-1-5462-4008-2 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5462-4007-5 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-5462-4006-8 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2018905194

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

CONTENTS

Synopsis

Dedications

I.   The Rage Of Innocence

II.   The Truth Shall Set You Free

III.   Moving On

IV.   There Are No Coincidences

V.   Life Is A Journey, Not A Race

VI.   I Love It When A Clan Comes Togethe

About the Author

SYNOPSIS

FOR ALL THE MARY MAGDALENES OF THE WORLD

A surreal erotic adult fairytale about one family’s journey through life and the obstacles they overcame with their never-ending love, passion, desire, and loyalty. The story begins with the coming of age of Melissa Stark. It chronicles her identity crisis as she struggles with her sexuality and her anti-establishment tendencies while trying to reconcile the way things are with the way she thought things ought to be. The background for the story unfolds during a series very revealing heartfelt mother daughter talks between the two main characters (Donna and Melissa). Then the story becomes interwoven with the fabric of life of the rest of the people in their loving caring family. Melissa was an extremely passionate, obsessively rebellious, young feminist who came from a long line of fiercely independent liberated women. In the biblical sense, she was the youngest of three generations of modern day Mary Magdalene type nymphomaniacs. Like her mother and grandmother before her she struggled with her passions and desires as she fought back against the oppressive persecution of the religious fundamentalists. She was a free- spirited truth seeker, wise beyond her years. Her relentless pursuit of the stream of consciousness of a higher power eventually brought her to an Eden-like place full of peace and love and tolerance.

The story chronicles the connection between divine intervention and a series of incredible life changing coincidences that made her family’s unconventional love come full cycle. This story also explores the inherent connection between spirituality and sexuality that defines us all as human beings and sanctifies our primal essence. The family in this story clung to each other in times of tragedy and loss, and they nurtured each other with love and kindness and understanding. Their love and kindness and empathy enabled them to survive the suffocating dominance and persecution of the religious fundamentalists who were envious of their love and passion. Throughout their lives, each family member experienced the same mysterious paranormal syndrome which they all perceived as some kind of sign from God.

This story strongly rejects the pop culture myth that men are from Mars and women are from Venus as the non-sectarian version of old testament fundamentalist misogyny that abets today’s ramped workplace sexual harassment and creates the yin and yang effect that condones misogyny and misandry. This story strongly suggests that we are all one and we are all from one place – Eden.

This family’s highly selective, non-political, unbiased interpretation of the scriptures, and their unconventional social values may make you question everything you’ve been carefully taught about God and the rules of engagement in the game of love. They believed the actual words in the scriptures were not sacred in of themselves, but only the truth that could be gleaned from the stories within was sacred, and they firmly believed that God loved all truth seekers. They felt that the scriptures belonged to the people, not the control-freak religious fundamentalist, whom they called the ‘Neo-Pharisees’. They pointed out the philosophical contradictions in the BC and AD books, and they felt that the intent of the scriptures was to provide self-awareness and self-empowerment, not power over others and wealth. They firmly believed in the reservoir of goodness that abides in the primal instincts of humanity. Their interpretation of the scriptures challenges the origin and intent of many of the archaic taboos society has accepted that are based on non-analytical misinterpretations of 500 BC theocracy. Their interpretation also condemns the malignant double standard values of today’s judgmental religious fundamentalists.

You will need to remove all of the puritanical fig leaves that have been planted in your brain by society to appreciate the eternal beauty of this family. If any of the scenes and language in this story are offensive to you consider that to be your wake-up call. You have just failed the puritanical fig leaf litmus test, while demeaning the passions of your dear old Mom and Dad. If you have allowed too many puritanical fundamentalist fig leaves to be planted in your brain by society -- do some leaf pruning and read on. You may discover that it’s time to declare your very own spiritual and social Emancipation Proclamation; liberating your soul and allowing you to live and let live, and love and let love.

Reconciling reality with normality and morality may well be one of the most monumental tasks any human being can ever undertake. Most folks just put this task in the hands of God and muddle through. The imperfect male and female humans in this family also delegated this task to God and it all worked out well for them. You could end up identifying with many of the major characters in this story if you outsource your judgmental inhibitions to God and be one with your creator.

It is my fervent wish that this frugal chariot I am offering you bears your human soul to a place of peace and love and tolerance.

DEDICATIONS

TO: all the women in my life who have loved me and shared their bodies and souls and womanly essence with me and made me whole;

TO: my three sons, who are my pride and joy and my inspiration;

TO: my two beautiful granddaughters, who fill my heart with hope;

TO: all in my loving caring immediate family;

TO: the rest of my brothers and sisters in the Eden family who gratefully accepted the gift of human passion they were born with, and used this gift as the creator intended to promote and procreate love and compassion and kindness;

TO: all of those beautiful modern day Mary Magdalene(s) out there – know that God has a special place for you in his heart.

AND LASTLY TO: my father Eamon McGhee Sr. Thank you, Dad, for teaching me the meaning of that old Irish proverb: "it is in the shelter of each other that the people live."

I

THE RAGE OF INNOCENCE

Let there be light, and there was light, and the light was good, and the light was separated from the darkness. (Genesis 1:3) It’s morning – it’s about seven AM and the sun is lighting up my bedroom through the shades. It’s time to sneak into my stepbrother’s bedroom again before he wakes up and see if I can catch a glimpse of his beautiful big morning erection. I just got such a thrill out of seeing him lying there on his back with that gorgeous big penis of his standing straight up. I’d quietly sneak around on my tiptoes to get a good close look at it from every angle. The other day I got really close and I marveled at the big bulging blue vein that meandered from his hairy crotch all the way down his shaft to the tip of his cock. I get so excited when I see him lying there like that. Unbeknownst to him I had been doing this two or three times a week for the last few months. Ever since I turned eighteen I became extremely sexually orientated, actually horny might be a better word for it. I had also been trying to get him to notice me at the breakfast table in the morning for the last few months; wearing sheer pajama tops unbuttoned as low as possible and always sitting in a seat at the table where to sun light could shine through the material. A few times I thought I saw him sneaking a peek at my newly formed firm little boobs. I looked away and tried to act casual, even though the thrill of having his eyes on me made my nipples hard. I tried to control my body movements in such a way as to afford him the best view. Every time I switched positions and the material rubbed across my hard nipples, a tingling sensation shot through my whole body and my crotch started to get wet. I found myself fantasizing that I was standing before him completely naked. Even though he seemed to be somewhat interested in my breasts in the morning, I had no idea if Donnie, who just turned nineteen, was interested in me at all in a sexual way. I knew for sure that he loved me, and I loved him with all my heart as well. That was clear from the first day we met and we threw our little arms around each other fifteen years ago—it seemed like yesterday. He was always such a kind caring protective big step brother to me, and I never sensed any viva la difference feelings coming from him. Every day when I came home from school he was in his room playing his guitar. As children growing up we were very close, but we didn’t seem to share much quality time together these days. I wondered how he would react if he found out about the changes I was going through and the feelings I was having for him. Every night when I went to bed I would think about him, as I explored my clit and vagina until I reached an orgasm. How I wished I could be with him and have him want my body for his pleasure. One night I fantasized having his big hard beautiful cock inside me, sliding in and out of me as he moaned with pleasure. I felt really guilty about these feelings I was having for him. I kept wondering what was wrong with me, to the point of wondering what was right with me. I was out of control, it seemed like I just couldn`t help myself. I would lay in bed feeling so ashamed of myself and so uncomfortable in my own skin after one of my orgasmic fantasies. I couldn’t wrap my mind around the intensity of the physical and psychological changes that I was going through – it was mind-boggling to me.

I finally decided that somehow, I had to pluck up the courage to let Donnie know how I felt about him. I had to tell him what was going on, inside of me. This self-abasing longing was consuming me and I needed to face up to it. If I couldn’t turn to my beautiful Donnie at a time like this in my life, who could I turn to? I needed to try to make a connection with him – show some initiative and reach out to him regardless of the consequences. Whatever came of it I would just have to deal with it. I started to make a concerted effort to strike up casual conversations with him after school before Mom came home from work. We usually got home from school at around 2:30 and Mom arrived home around 5:30. I would always start by asking him in a friendly smiling way if he wanted anything to eat or drink. We talked about school and the teachers, and eventually I got around to asking him about his friends and the other students. I asked him if he had any girlfriends he was interested in. He said, No, not really, and he seemed to be a little bit embarrassed. I said, I’ll bet there are a lot of girls in that school who would love to make out with you, boy – you are the best-looking guy in the whole damn school. He blushed and said, Really, do you think so? I could tell by his smile he was interested in hearing more. I said, Let’s go for a dip in the community pool – would you like to go for a swim with me? Sure, he said, that sounds cool. Good, I said, I’ll go get my suit on and be right back. I put on a skimpy bikini I recently purchased without Mom’s knowledge. I came back into the room holding up the top by cupping both of my breasts in my hands and said, Could you hook me up please Donnie, I can’t reach back there. I felt his hand shaking as he fastened my bra strap. We had a great time at the pool, laughing and joking and horsing around. This was a real breakthrough, things were looking up.

Each day after that, things became more relaxed and more personal between us. Our conversations were more easy going, and we began talking about some personal and primal feeling that we were both experiencing. Our little chats became more free and open. I found it very liberating when we both began to feel comfortable using street vernacular in front of each other. I hate pristine phoniness when talking to someone I care about and trust. We both felt ok using words like fuck, suck, cunt, and cock openly in our normal everyday chats without any eyebrows being raised. Fuck – I loved that word – such a beautiful word. A sacred word. I could never understand how people could use that word in a negative way; in a somebody done somebody wrong kind of way. After all, somebody had to fuck somebody else in order for you to be here. To me it seemed when someone said, fuck you to you, your only reply should be either yes thank you or no thank you. Fuck was a magical word for couples to enhance intimacy, and without intimacy we would all be androids. I did some research on the origin of the F word, and I found out that it had been around for a long time. It was used in a sexual way in English literature as far back as the sixteenth century, during the Shakespearian era, by a writer and poet named Christopher Marlowe. In today’s society, most four-letter words associated with sex have been turned into instruments of hate and spite. I recently watched a war flick on cable TV in which one soldier (the good guy) used variations of the words fuck, cock, suck, and dick in a violent hate filled rant against an enemy combatant as he shot and killed him at close range. How did we get brainwashed into using these words only to express hate and contempt, and disgust? Why is a nasty guy called a dick, and a carping woman called a cunt? Aren’t dicks and cunts beautiful parts of the human anatomy – gifts from our Creator that make us whole and make us all one? A cunt has a beautiful pearl nestled between two equally beautiful labia held firmly in place on a strong uniquely feminine pelvic bone. No orchid in God’s creation could ever match it for its beauty or its strength. It’s the place where new life comes into the world, yet whenever people hear the word ‘cunt’ or ‘dick’ they cringe – both men and women. Who invented the words ‘cunt’ and ‘dick’? Was it the fundamentalist misogynist puritans of old who created these scornful vulgar words to defame our genitalia? Were these fundamentalists puritans under the influence of the evil one when they pulled this linguistic brain washing trick on society to make people despise the precious gift of their primal essence? What they called vulgarity I called intimate vocabulary. To me, the real definition of vulgarity is lying and bearing false witness. Women and men should be proud of their cunts and dicks. In fact, women and men of faith should end their prayers with the words and thank you God for my cunt and my dick (respectively),.in defiance of those puritanical fundamentalists who tried to defame God`s work. It seemed to me that it’s time for puritanical Christian fundamentalists to show more respect for the female body part their Savior came out of in a manger and realize that this body part is a precious gift from our creator, no matter what you call it. I loved having a cunt and in defiance of the puritanical fundamentalist’s mentality I would never call it anything else. Guys love having dicks and they spend billions every year on PE drugs for their dicks. I also loved all of the rest of those titillating four letter words related to sex that they called vulgarity. I felt these words should only be used to enhance intimacy, and I would always continue to use these words in a sexual way and never use them to express hate or contempt or disgust. I don’t want an erection in my vagina. I want a hard dick in my cunt. I don’t want to have intercourse, I want to fuck. How could people use the word fuck to express hate? Innocent little children end up getting soap in their mouths for saying fuck. When they use the four-letter word hate it doesn’t cause that same extreme reaction from their parents for some reason. Why doesn’t the FCC require the word hate to be bleeped from network TV? They ban the idiomatic word for what our parents did to get us here, but they don’t ban the word ‘hate’. Dirty words – we create our own dirty words. In the political arena words like ‘liberal’, ‘conservative’ and evangelical are considered to be dirty words by certain people. What’s the lesson to be learned here? I don’t get it. Sometimes I thought I ended up on the wrong planet. I guess I should be thankful that Webster wasn’t one of those puritans and he put many of those beautiful four-letter words in his dictionary for people to see. Most dictionaries show both definitions for these ‘double meaning’ four letter words – the beautiful natural definition and the nasty puritanical definition. How do we re-introduce the word fuck and all the rest of those beautiful sex related four letter words back into our vocabulary so society accepts them as something beautiful and not something nasty and hateful? Will it take an act of Congress? – Oh, that’s right, the one thing our present Congress doesn’t do is act.

Donnie and I also started to engage in some sexual horseplay, like sneaking up and goosing each other and grabbing each other’s private parts. Although this was definitely sexual in nature, to us it was more like two little kids having a pillow fight. It added so much fun and laughter to our everyday lives and it seemed to strengthen the bond between us. Normally he would arrive home from school about ten minutes before me each day. When I arrived, I was greeted with a big smile along with a hug and a kiss. This became a daily ritual for us. It felt really good to throw my body up against his; it was the best part of my day. One day we were discussing the topic of masturbation and we both shared some graphic details about our exploratory adventures with our own bodies, we both had a good laugh over it. It was so comforting and liberating to talk to him about this stuff. It made me feel very close to him. I asked him if the next time he felt like jerking off he would let me watch or let me do it to him and show me how to give a hand job. He said, Of course, I’d love that, Melissa. I then confessed to him about all those mornings that I played sneak a peak in his bedroom. He laughed and said, Why didn’t you wake me? That would have been so cool. Suddenly he got up, walked over to me and took me in his arms and kissed me tenderly. He put his tongue in my mouth and held me tight to his body, it took my breath away. Let’s go into the bedroom right now and you can jerk me off, he said. Mom won’t be home for another two hours, let’s have some fun. I said I would like that very much. We continued kissing in the bedroom while he gradually took off his clothes with some assistance from me. Soon he was naked and his big hard dick was pushing against me as we stood there kissing. Then he laid down on the bed and I knelt on the floor beside him. He took my hand and put it on his cock saying, Go ahead hold it, hold my cock. Now move your hand up and down… that’s it… hold it tighter and stroke it up and down… yes that’s it… that feels so good… oh yea… so good… oh yea stroke it, Melissa. I loved hearing his dirty talk, it was such a turn on to me. I was so excited that my vagina started to drip and my breathing became heavy. What an awesome feeling it was to have his big hard cock in my hand. Oh, my God, your dick is so beautiful, I said, It’s so big and hard, it feels great. The skin on the surface was loose and it slid freely up and down on his shaft while the core remained firm and rigid. With every up and down stroke his balls lifted and fell. I leaned to the side to get a better view of his balls bouncing up and down with each stroke. Just about that time his whole body started moving and his hips jerked back and forth, with each thrust of my hand. Then I felt his cock start pulsing in my hand and he let out a long and loud ahhhhhh. The first big blob of cum shot out. It was like a volcano of joy spewing hot life-giving lava. A few small drops landed on my cheek and my chin. The next big hot blob landed on the back of my hand, and an even bigger blob shot out and ended up hanging from my wrist. Oh, my God – Oh my God, I kept saying. My heart was pounding at the sight and feel of the hot cum shooting out of him and landing on my skin. The surprising aroma made me feel really excited. I kept stroking him until he put his hand on mine, signaling me to stop. I said, Wow that was awesome, it was so cool. Thank you so much for letting me do that, Donnie. He smiled and said, My pleasure, thank YOU, Melissa. That felt great, you did good. I got up off my knees and smiled down at him and said I’d be right back, I just wanted to clean up a little bit. I went into the bathroom and the first thing I did was wipe the two small blobs of cum off my face with my finger. Then I smelled my finger, it smelled like industrial strength jasmine. I put my tongue on it and tasted it. I stuck my finger in my mouth and sucked on it. I really liked the way it tasted and smelled, it was so exciting. I then sucked up the other two blobs on my hand and wrist. I squished them around in my mouth and my face squinted reacting to the strong tart tangy taste. I savored it for a moment and then attempted a deep gulping swallow. That tasted pretty good I thought; I got really excited. Oh, my God, I just swallowed a guy’s cum. That’s disgusting, I thought; disgusting and beautiful, disgusting is beautiful – what’s happening to me? I thought about the first-time Donnie and I exchanged bodily fluids -- we were just little children at the time. It was the day we found out that our dad had died. He came into my bed room and laid down beside me in my bed and we soaked each other’s faces with our tears. We fell asleep crying with our little arms around each other. A permanent bond was formed between us on that night. Thinking about this beautiful memory made me long for him and his precious life-giving love juice. I decided right then that the next time he let me play with him, I would ask him to put his cock in my mouth and teach me how to give a blow job.

As it turned out the next time ended up being the very next day after school. As soon as I got home he grabbed me and kissed me and said, Would you play with my cock again, Melissa? Please, please, please, he added. It was so quick, it took me by surprise, but I was thrilled by his enthusiasm. I said, Yea, let’s do it. Let me hold that big beautiful cock of yours again. I would really like that. This time I immediately started striping him until he was completely naked. Then I pushed him down on the bed on his back. He seemed to enjoy my aggression and he cooperated with my every move. Once again, I knelt on the floor beside him and grabbed his cock firmly in my hand and stated stroking it. After a few minutes of stroking, I said, Donnie can I put it in my mouth please? I would love to taste it and suck on it for a little while, would that be ok? Could you teach me how to give a blow job? I’d really like to know how to do that. Oh yes, yes already, that would be awesome. You go girl, put it in your mouth. The tip slid nicely into my mouth and soon my saliva lubricated it. I sucked on it gently, taking it out of my mouth momentarily to lick it. It was an awesome feeling, and it was hard a rock. I was surprised at the amount of saliva that my mouth was producing as my head bobbed up and down on his hard dick. It was almost as if I was drooling. With each bob of my head his cock went further and further into my oral cavity. My throat kept making a guttural uck uck uck sound each time I pressed my mouth down on his cock. Soon I felt the tip of his dick hitting the back of my throat, which caused me to make a slight gagging sound when it came in contact with my tonsils. Within a minute or two my lips were brushing up against his black curly pubic hair. All of his beautiful hard cock was in my mouth at that moment. I kept my lips pressed against his pubic hair for a second or two after each downward thrust of my head. It was one of the most awesome feelings that I had ever felt. Better than I had imagined in my fantasies. It’s hard to explain, it made me feel so complete, so much like a real woman. This is when I discovered that there is nothing quite like the feeling of a big hard cock soaked in your own saliva sliding in and out of your mouth while your lips clung tightly to the moving skin on the shaft. It was a pleasure that even transcended the feeling of an