Date: Sat, 27 Oct 2018 16:51:22 +0000 (UTC)
From: Milford Slabaugh <tommyhawk1@aol.com>
Subject: Trailer Park Trash, Chapter 3

                        TRAILER PARK TRASH
        Chapter Three: Scoring Some Booze at Trailer "N"
                      By Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
                  WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM

     I slept well into the next day, moving at midmorning when Mom and
Madeline got up, to go back to sleep in her bed. The day was hot, horribly
hot. I gave up about eleven o'clock and got up. Mom carped at me as I made
a stand-up breakfast for myself, yapping about anything and everything I
did, with Madeline chipping in and reminding her of anything she forgot to
mention, and I got fed up and said, "I'm going to go visit Lloyd." I said.
     Mom bitched at me but I left anyway. I was high time she realized that
I was legally an adult and if she didn't give me some respect as such, I'd
just leave. I could go live with Lloyd or...or something.
     Could I? Become the sexual plaything of two men, being fucked all the
time? Would they jump me when I walked in their always-open door?
     This thought caused me to turn my footsteps and I went down the drive
instead of up.
     My neighbor in Trailer "D" was home and I thought about
knocking. Instead, I went around to the back and peered in his window. All
I intended to do was see if he was asleep, honest! I knew he worked pretty
late, I'd heard his car come in well after midnight.
     He was in bed, all right, but he was awake. Laying atop his covers,
totally nude with an open window. Well, unless someone did like I did,
deliberately walk over and look in, he was private. There was a high ridge
just behind the trailers on this side, just a few feet high but steeply
sloping, you didn't walk on it by accident. It was what gave me the
altitude I needed to see into his window like I did.
     Laying atop his covers, totally nude. He was rubbing his chest in a
languid motion, the way you do when you just wake up, don't have to get up
right away, and are just enjoying the act of slowly waking your body.
     I got a little closer in so I could see all of him. He was lying
sideways to me, his face turned slightly away from the window which would
have glared the sun into his eyes if he'd looked this way. Only one foot
and ankle still lay beneath the covers, and that carelessly. He had both
legs angled out, splayed, giving his body room to relax and be
comfortable. His cock was lying on his balls, a small dun-colored crescent,
flaccid but good-sized. I had wondered about that, bodies as muscled as his
sometimes got that way with steroids, which always shrank the dick down. He
hadn't done that. It made me admire his body even more. His chest was huge,
massively broad and strong, his stomach a flat concavity below that, his
six-pack abs not showing at all in this relaxed position. His nipples were
broad brown buttons that he soothed with strokes of his fingertips.
     His cock jerked, lengthened with his touching it, rising slowly
upwards and I watched as that uncoiling love muscle rose like a serpent to
the tune of the charmer's flute. It ended as a proud tower that did not
curve at all, a solid cylindrical pillar of love muscle topped by a
pagoda-roof-shaped glans that flared at the base and I could just feel that
sharp ridge as it slid past my lips and down my throat. I wanted to suck it
so bad, I could imagine myself climbing into that window (the screen would
have to be cut for that to happen!) and across that bed to that beckoning
rod of male tumescence.
     His hand reached down indolently to his cock, and he scratched at the
base of it, the broad wand bobbing back and forth as his fingers moved it,
and then his hand came around to envelop it lovingly and he gave it a slow
skinning upwards to wring the pearls of precome out of that noble head.
     Slowly, deliberately, unhurried even by his lust, he stroked that
pungent pole of his, and I groaned inwardly and reached down for my own
crotch, to caress my groin and feel the rising tide of my desire that
became rapidly cramped. I tugged at it to free it from the confines of its
curled position in my shorts and then again to let it rise straight up my
shorts and tent it out.
     "Corey? Hey, Corey!" came a call and for once, it wasn't my
mother. "Where are you?" It was Johnny.
     I looked around both sides, but couldn't see him of course. I adjusted
my crotch again and started to clamber down that slope and as I did, I cast
what was to be one final glance into the neighbor's window.
     And he was looking out at me. One hand on his cock, holding it firmly,
he looked out at me and when our eyes met, he grinned a knowing grin. I
gulped hard, flushed and scurried around the side of the trailer, coming
out between "D" and "C" From there, I could see Johnny and I waved at him.
     "What are you doing over there?" he asked me, waving back.
     "Just...exploring." I said.
     "You going up to see Lloyd?" he asked.
     "Nah." I said, wondering how much he knew about Lloyd's position. I
decided to play it cagey until I knew more. "Just hanging out."
     "Come on, then!" he said.
     I went to him, wondering.
     "Want to make a few bucks today?" He asked me.
     "Sure." I said. "What you got?"
     "Come on." he said to me and I walked back with him down toward his
trailer house, no, we were bound between them for the trailer behind the
liquor store.
     "What are you doing?" I asked him as we went up to the back door of
Trailer "N."
     "Old Lady Hockstatler keeps the cases in their trailer." he
said. "They're gone for the day, off to visit her mother. They don't keep
careful count on the bottles, we'll just get a few and we can go into town
and sell them."
     "Today?" I said. Today was Sunday, and our state has antiquated
Victorian-style "blue" laws, no liquor of any kind was allowed to be sold
today. Hell, it used to be worse, used to be against the law to sell
anything on Sunday!
     "Sure, why not?" Johnny said. "Plenty of people willing to pay for
their drink today. We go out behind the Starview Supermarket and sell
it. Lots of guys do that, they'll buy it yesterday and keep it to sell
today, and that's the hangout for selling drugs, you know. We just have a
little booze to go along with it. Not much competition, and we can sell it
cheaper than the other guys."
     I hadn't, but I wasn't admitting that. "Okay, but...we're going to
steal it?"
     "Sure." he said, surprised at me. "You don't think that tight-ass
landlord would sell liquor to guys our age, do you?" Legal age was
twenty-one to buy booze. It used to be eighteen a few years earlier, but
laws had changed. I could vote or join the military, but they didn't trust
me with liquor.
     "Okay, but why do you need me?"
     "You have the car." He reminded me. "That's the deal, I get the
liquor, you get transportation and we'll split the money 50-50."
     "Okay." I said. I would worry later about how to get the car from
Mom. If necessary, we could hot-wire the car, I knew how though we'd piss
Mom off greatly if I did it. But I could tell her I had a job; we needed
money enough that she wouldn't ask too many questions.
     Johnny worked the lock with a slender piece of bent wire; he worked
that cheap lock like a pro and we were inside in no time. Inside, I felt
kind of funny, walking into this place filled with cheap bric-a-brac that
covered every available surface. The Hockstatlers were childless and I knew
they couldn't have children (that gossip I'd been forced to listen to
between Mom and Madeline), a woman who can't have children tends to garden
or collect shit. The air-conditioning was on and felt wonderfully
cool. This trailer was a huge two-bedroom model, and they had sealed the
smaller bedroom up tight by installing a sheet of siding over its window.
     "You do know that they lock the storeroom, too." I pointed out.
     "Sure." Johnny said. "Listen, Corey, I do this all the time. Just a
couple of bottles at a time, they never miss it or think the other one
drank it. They fight all the time anyhow, so they're suspicious as hell of
each other." He and I were in the narrow hallway and he was using his
lockpick again. I decided to get him to teach me how to do that.
     Johnny chuckled. "They replaced the lock. They must be getting
suspicious of each other. You should hear the old lady griping at the poor
slug.  You're drinking all our profits!' she keeps on yelling at him. Can
you imagine having to screw that tight old bitch. She must be ten or
fifteen years older than he is, easy. I wonder why he married her? Ah!" He
turned the lock and opened the door. He started in then said, "Oh, shit!
It's empty! They moved it all!"
     "Yes, we did. And my wife is twenty years older'n me." came the male
voice behind us. "And I married her because she owns a liquor store."
     I jerked, turned guiltily. Mr. Hockstatler was standing there looking
at us. He had a gun with him, but it wasn't aimed at us, just held in one
hand as he crossed his arms on his chest, looking at us. He was in his
thirties, and developing a slight pot-belly. His hair was heavily curled,
which seemed to be natural rather than by choice, his face was angular,
plain but not ugly, he stood a little taller than Johnny or me, and was
somewhat on the skinny side.
     "I was wondering where those extra bottles were going." he said to
us. "Pretty smart, just taking a couple of bottles at a time. If you'd
taken a case, we would have known it was thieves."
     "I'm sorry." I sniveled. "This wasn't my idea."
     "No, but you were going along with it all right." he
observed. "Johnny, what are your folks going to say about this?"
     Johnny's face was working hard, he looked like he was about to
cry. "We won't do it again." he said. The cocky attitude he'd projected all
along was totally gone, he suddenly looked about fifteen with that look of
shame on his face. "Come on, just let us go and we'll never do it again."
     "Well, now, I wouldn't go that far." Mr. Hockstatler said. "You take
this down and sell it behind the supermarket, right? I did hear you right,
outside before?"
     "Yes, sir." Johnny said.
     "How much would you get for a quart of Johnny Walker?"
     "I...I sell it for twenty dollars." Johnny said miserably.
     "Mm-hm." Mr. Hockstatler said. "You were taking two every weekend,
while me and the old battleaxe visited her mother, right?"
     "Yes, sir." Johnny said miserably.
     "He's new." Mr. Hockstatler said of me. "Did you figure on splitting
the forty dollars with him, or taking extra this time?"
     Johnny didn't answer.
     "Get on inside the storeroom." Mr. Hockstatler said.
     Inside, I nearly tripped, a mattress had been laid out on the floor,
with crumpled sheets.
     "Thanks to you, I've been sleeping in here the past week."
Mr. Hockstatler said as he closed the door behind us. There was total
darkness. "Well, it's nice and dark in here." He flipped on a light. "Know
what else? It's quiet in here, too. You can't hear anyone when they're
inside here. You know what it's like to sleep in a dark, quiet room when
you're used to noise and a comfortable bed instead of a lumpy old
mattress?"
     The gun was now brought to bear on us and I nearly shit my
pants. Johnny did break down then, more than me. He had more to feel guilty
about, I guess. He actually knelt down and said, "Please, Mr. Hockstatler,
don't do it! Please!"
     "Don't do what? Kill you?" Mr. Hockstatler said. "Are you kids really
that stupid?"
     "Then why'd you close the door?" I asked him. "Going to hold us
hostage?"
     "No." He grinned. "But I've been sleeping in here for a week. But I
haven't gotten any for weeks longer than that, what with my old lady
thinking I was snitching booze on her. Lying in here, whacking off at
night, being blamed for what you did. Do you think that's fair?"
     "No, sir." I agreed with him.
     "So what should you two do about it?" he asked us almost
conversationally.
     "What do you want us to do?" I asked. Johnny watched us quiet and
timid-like.
     "You can start by getting down on your knees." Mr. Hockstatler said.
     We obeyed under the silvery glint of that gun.
     Mr. Hockstatler stepped up to us. "You boys see this dick?" He grabbed
his crotch with his free hand. "It's been deprived because of your
antics. What are you going to do about it?"
     His intent was pretty clear and I didn't need any further urging. He
wasn't my dream lover, but if it got us out from being reported to the
police....
     I leaned forward and gnawed at his denim-covered
crotch. Mr. Hockstatler chuckled and said, "Well, he's got the right
idea. Why don't you get over here and help him?"
     Johnny took his time about it, but he finally got over and pressed his
face next to mine and joined me in mouthing Mr. Hockstatler's prong covered
in the blue jeans. I felt the cold steel of the revolver in his hand as he
used that same hand to press the back of my head, push me into his basket,
my cheek pressed against Johnny's both of us being smashed inwards.
     I reached up and cupped one of his buttocks, and he relaxed his grip
on me. "All right, what's your name...Corey?...yeah, Corey, you get around
and work my ass. Johnny, you get my pants undone. Come on, punks, move it!"
     I did as he said, though a less appetizing pair of buttocks were hard
to imagine. They were droopy, kind of sagging at the bottom rather than a
pair of pert little orbs like the guy in Trailer "D" had. The trousers
coming down with Johnny's hands guiding them off did little to improve the
view from my point. Pale, floppy globs of fat, that was my impression of
his buttocks. Then those twin blobs came back and I closed my eyes, and
dove in. I didn't try to do anything more than lick at his buns, wincing at
how they sort of rippled loosely against my tongue.
     Mr. Hockstatler didn't like it either, or maybe he wanted to punish
Johnny more than he wanted his ass licked. "Enough of that, Corey, you get
down on your belly and inspire Johnny in the right way to suck cock. I hear
you can really work a man's prick, let's see you teach Johnny how to treat
a man right."
     Had Lloyd or his father talked about me? Or Johnny? Shit, I hadn't
been here more than forty-eight hours and already I was earning a
reputation! But a man with a gun is nothing to argue with, and I was glad
to leave those flabby buttocks behind and burrow my face instead into
Johnny's taut, aromatic basket.
     "Come on, pull those shorts of his down and work that cock. Johnny, I
want you to do to my cock whatever Corey does to yours, you understand me?"
     "Yes, sir." Johnny said in a muffled tone and I wondered if it was
because he was talking around a mouthful of cock. From where I was, I
couldn't see?
     But Mr. Hockstatler had ordered that he do whatever I was doing, so I
got the shorts on down and then I began to lick on Johnny's cock. Johnny's
dong was as flavorful as ever, clean and meaty. Mr. Hockstatler began to
moan as Johnny presumably did the same thing to him. "Mmh, yeah, that's the
way, lick it, punk, lick it."
     I had Johnny's prick lubed up and I took it into my mouth, not trying
to cram it in, just taking it and clutching it and getting more of that
flavor of him on my tongue.
     "Ooh, yeah, nice, come on, suck it, kid, suck it." Mr. Hockstatler
ordered. I began to work my lips back and forth over Johnny's turgid,
hardy, teenaged dong while Johnny worked the older prick of
Mr. Hockstatler. It was easy to enjoy my situation now, having a sturdy
adolescent prick in my mouth, and I began to suck him harder and faster,
and I could hear the slurping sounds above me. It sounded like Johnny was
losing his own reluctance now and beginning to mimic my motions. I whirled
my tongue along the base of Johnny's cock, and he groaned, and then
Mr. Hockstatler gave out a loud sigh of sheer joy.
     It was like sucking off the landlord by proxy! I reached up between
Johnny's legs and I stroked his asshole, and I guess Johnny imitated me,
because I heard Mr. Hockstatler give a surprised "hmph!" then a "Uuuh!"
then a "Ahhh, yeah!" I wasn't probing Johnny's butt, just running the tips
of my finger over it, feeling that slippery, sour-smelling dimple in his
body over and over again. It was less like an opening and more like a
tucker in his body, where it had been pulled together and clenched
shut. But there was an opening beyond that tucker, it yielded beneath my
now-probing finger and I got the first joint of my index finger inside.
     Mr. Hockstatler gave a gasp and a sort of gurgle as Johnny's finger
probed inside his ass. I wondered how far this would go. I dug my finger in
a little deeper and Mr. Hockstatler gave that funny gurgling sound again,
almost a "droo-doo-doo" sound only liquid and warbling. I began to work my
finger in and out of Johnny's ass like I was fucking him with it, and
Mr. Hockstatler must have felt this was too much, for he suddenly shoved
Johnny back and Johhny fell down on the mattress, slightly bumping his head
on the empty shelf beyond it.
     I stayed with his cock, even as he struggled and groaned, and I sucked
him as he writhed on the mat, either in pain at the bump or in humiliation,
but I didn't let go even when his hands came up and tugged at my head,
trying to pull me loose.
     "Roll him over and sit on his chest." Mr. Hockstatler ordered and
Johnny did as he was told, and I rolled with him, happy so long as I got
that warm dong of his plunging into my mouth, and now Johnny was in control
and I think losing his inhibitions, because he got hold of my head again,
but now he used them to fuck my face.
     Then Johnny gave an "oomph!" and he was bent over and my head was back
on the mattress and that wonderful Asian dong of his was buried
deeply. Johnny didn't make any move to fuck at me, he just sort of groaned
and squirmed there.
     I got curious and squirmed myself, so I could see and what I saw was
Mr. Hockstatler's hand working its way into Johnny's ass. His other hand
came under to cup Johnny's balls, and I wondered if Johnny had the barrel
of that gun shoved up his ass, but Mr. Hockstatler pulled back his hand and
I saw it was empty.
     "Get out of the way." Mr. Hockstatler told me peremptorily and I
hastily scooted out and away, having to lift one of Johnny's legs up and
then I was able to get to my knees and I saw Mr. Hockstatler's hand probing
at Johnny's ass, he had two fingers up there and was about to make it
three.
     He did, and Johnny moaned. "Oh, God, take it out, please!" he
groaned. "I can't do it, I haven't done it, please, fuck Corey instead!"
     "No way, punk, this burglary was your idea." Mr. Hockstatler
said. "I'm taking my money back the only way I can, right out of your
ass. You owe me for a lot of bottles, you been doing this for over six
months, haven't you?"
     "Yes, sir!" Johnny groaned.
     "Then shut up and take my fingers, because my dick is going in there
next." Mr. Hockstatler said.
     "Please, can't you take Corey?"
     "Oh, I will, next time maybe." Mr. Hockstatler said.
     "Next time?" Johnny gasped as Mr. Hockstatler shoved the third finger
in.
     "Next time I get rid of the old bag, I'm calling you and you're coming
over for the next installment on your debt." Mr. Hockstatler said. "Now,
get that ass up in the air so I can cram my dick in it."
     "Corey, do something." Johnny pleaded, and I did kind of feel sorry
for him. Even though he'd tried to fix it so that it was my ass that was
getting those fingers inside it.
     "Can't you go a little easy on him?" I said. "It is his first time." I
gulped and said, "At least I know how to take it."
     "Cherry butts are worth more." Mr. Hockstatler said as he got his
crotch in alignment with Johnny's ass.
     And then he crammed it in. Johnny yelped and fell forward, and
Mr. Hockstatler grabbed him by the hair of his head and hauled him back
upright, and I saw for the first time the monster that Mr. Hockstatler was
packing.
     Tall thin men tend to have tall, thin dongs, that's my
opinion. Mr. Hockstatler was no exception, he wasn't huge around but that
schlong of his must have been ten inches long, easy! He shoved at Johnny's
ass again and Johnny gave off a loud groan.
     "Damn it, kid, shut up!" Mr. Hockstatler snapped. "Corey, get over
here and shove your dick in his mouth. That'll shut him up."
     What could I do? Despite Johnny's pleading eyes, I pulled down my
shorts and I got over in front of him and I sat down on a sort of ledge at
the base of the shelf there, and I guided Johnny's despairing lips down
over my dong.
     "Yeah, keep that dick buried inside him." Mr. Hockstatler said. "Come
on, make him suck it, nice and long!"
     What else could I do? I got hold of Johnny's head and I began to make
him suck my cock. Johnny groaned, but he kept his lips on it tight and it
felt pretty good even if it wasn't his idea.
     Mr. Hockstatler wasn't being gentle with Johnny and I felt sorry for
the guy. While Mr. Hockstatler began to fuck him while still cramming that
long dick in, pull it out and then wham! shove it back in, I slid down onto
the mattress and got into position to sixty-nine with Johnny. I had to put
my feet inside the lowest shelf and press the soles of my feet against the
pegboard backing it had, but I soon had Johnny's dong back in my mouth,
where it belonged! I sucked on him and he lost a lot of his pained grunts
and began to suck my cock in earnest.
     Soon we were mostly ignoring Mr. Hockstatler, or at least I was. I had
Johnny's sweet pud in my mouth and his tender lips were milking me just as
fervently as I was his. I guess a lot of the squirming he was doing was
actually Mr. Hockstatler fucking his ass, but I didn't pay a lot of
attention to it once Johnny got to sucking me good and hard.
     Mr. Hockstatler was cursing the entire time now, long diatribes aimed
not at us, but at his wife, whom he apparently hated vehemently. "That
damned, scrawny bitch, accusing me of taking her liquor. Damn right I do,
she doesn't let me have any. But I didn't take as much as she said I
did. These punks were taking it, I told her so, but she didn't listen!" I
don't know what this had to do with his getting off, but it was like he was
talking dirty to us, the tone of his voice and the way he kind of
punctuated his sentences with hard thrusts into Johnny's bunghole.
     Johnny was really groaning now, but it wasn't a painful groan, his
cock was heating up. I guess Mr. Hockstatler finally found his prostate
because suddenly Johnny just ignited and he was grunting and panting
heavily, and I sucked on him hard when I realized he was close, and then he
gave a long, strangled groan around my cock and he squirted his jizz into
my mouth. I tasted that nectar of the gods again and I groaned, and my
prick suddenly was like a Roman candle, it sort of lit at the top, and then
I felt a rush of energy down my shaft and when that rush hit my balls, they
started in firing and I was assaulted by my climax.
     The pair of horny, spurting teenaged boys under him must have turned
Mr. Hockstatler on, because while Johnny and I were still shooting our wads
into each other's mouths, Mr. Hockstatler said, "That evil, angry,
clutching old maid of a BITCH!" and when he said "bitch", he didn't say it
low as he had said the rest of it, it was a loud shout and then he hit his
exclamation points with a series of loud roars and I felt the rain of jism
that blasted out of Johnny's ravaged butt and dripped down onto my forehead
after sidling down Johnny's balls.
     Mr. Hockstatler was fucking Johnny like a demon then, and I could hear
the loud slaps of Mr. Hockstatler's thighs against Johnny's butt, and then
when it was all over, as I lay exhausted at the bottom of this pile of
spent male lust, Johnny's flaccid dong still buried in my mouth, not
choking me at all but with his weight and Mr. Hockstatler's holding me down
and in place, I couldn't spit it out and could only breathe a little. I
settled for that...I wasn't suffocating...and after a while, my vision
cleared anyhow. But by then, they were getting off of me.
     Mr. Hockstatler sat against a couple of boxes nearby. I don't know
what they held, but they weren't liquor boxes, which always are marked as
such. Just regular boxes. Anyway, Johnny was lying between us and I lifted
myself up on one hand.
     "That was a good fuck." Mr. Hockstatler said with satisfaction.
     I looked with awe at his long dong, then at Johnny's ass. He didn't
seem to be bleeding, that I could see.
     "That was a damned good fuck, boys." Mr. Hockstatler said. "Well worth
the price of a couple of bottles."
     "Huh?" I said.
     Johnny rolled over.
     "Tell me, Johnny." Mr. Hockstatler said conspiratorially. "That
lockpick you have, can you pick the back of the liquor store?"
     "Uh...sure, I guess so." Johnny said.
     "Well, Johnny, if you can, you can stay in business. You pick that
lock and I'll give you four bottles of Johnny Walker. Come back next
weekend and we'll do it again. Let the old bag think it's being
shoplifted."
     "Okay!" Johnny was pleased, he seemed to forget how he'd just been
fucked by this bastard.
     "You plan on fucking us every weekend?" I asked him.
     "Hey." Johnny said. "This deal is between me and him." he said. "You
have a car, don't you, sir?"
     "I sure do." Mr. Hockstatler said.
     "Then we don't need Corey anymore, do we?" Johnny said.
     "What?" I nearly screamed.
     "Not that I can see." Mr. Hockstatler said. "Of course, you still owe
me for those bottles you already took."
     "I thought you're going to take that back in fucking." Johnny
said. "You weren't that bad after you got it in. I mean, shit, it hurt
until you got it going, then...hell, I see why Corey grunts so damned
happily when you fuck him now."
     I got to my feet, pulled my shorts back up and walked out. They didn't
need me any more!
     One thing was sure, though, I decided. When they went to the
supermarket to sell that liquor, I was going to see to it that the police
found out.
     Shut me out of the deal cold, would they?

                     THE END OF CHAPTER THREE
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