Date: Sat, 3 Nov 2018 18:45:21 +0000 (UTC)
From: Milford Slabaugh <tommyhawk1@aol.com>
Subject: Trailer Park Trash, Chapter 4

                        TRAILER PARK TRASH
      Chapter Four: The Occupation of the Man in Trailer "D"
                      By Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
                  WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM

     What everyone said about the Starview Supermarket's name is that it
fit because the only way you could see anything around it but concrete was
by looking straight up. A too-small-for-business parking lot surrounded by
larger buildings which had locked it in, the owner should sell the place
and move further out from downtown. Until then, the back of the supermarket
was like a concrete canyon. The dumpsters sported old food and semi-spoiled
vegetables, which attracted bums and winos, which was grist for the mill of
the dealers. Lots of milk crates and such to sit on, lots of places to
stash illicit goods for sale among the discards from the supermarket, and
if the police happened by, you were just sitting there chatting with your
friends, not bothering anybody. The supermarket was closed on Sunday and
the back doors around about all locked up with formidable iron gates,
padlocks and bars.
     This was the place where Johnny and Mr. Hockstatler took their four
bottles of liquor to sell, and whom I tailed into town. Not right behind
them; I knew where they were going, after all.
     Getting the car from Mom was easy, I went with my planned lie of
having heard of a job. After I saw where Johnny was setting up shop and
where he stashed the four bottles, I could find a police car and report
him. No reason for me to hang around; Johnny would know who had turned him
in but not have any proof, and that was what counted.
     I watched as he and Mr. Hockstatler arrived (I had passed them somehow
along the way), watched while they parked in the vacant parking lot in
front (quite a few cars there, dealers and customers) and went around
back. I got out of the car and around the back in time to see Johnny and
Mr. Hockstatler put those four bottles into an empty cardboard box and sit
down next to it. The store's grocery delivery from its supplier came in on
Friday, and garbage pickup wasn't until Monday, so the place had a lot of
empty boxes around.
     When I saw this, I returned to my car and was going to sit there until
a police car came around to check the store itself. They cruised this
central area pretty heavily; I didn't expect much of a wait.
     I sat and watched while the customers came and went. Hardly a booming
business, but long enough that I worried Johnny would sell those four
bottles before I could get him turned in. When a police car finally came
around, I practically jumped out of the car to go alert him, waving my
arms. Two men who had just come from the alley hastily went to their cars
and got in, drove away as the black-and-white pulled up next to me and I
leaned over to speak to the sole officer in the car.
     "Hello, officer, I....you!" I said in surprise.
     "Hello, son." came the kindly response. It was my next-door neighbor,
wearing the tan uniform and a pair of mirrored sunglasses, but no doubt
about it, my neighbor, the hunk I'd been drooling over while he mowed the
yard, the one I'd peered into his window that very morning and watched him
playing with his cock, was now sitting in a police car, that brawny body
stuffed into a starched, clean uniform with a badge that shone in the
afternoon sun.
     "I didn't know you were a cop!" I said.
     "You didn't ask me." he said, smiling. "What can I do for you, son?"
     "Uh, well...the landlord and Johnny Ling are behind the store, selling
bottles of liquor." I said.
     "Is that so?" He said.
     "Yes, sir." I said. "I watched Johnny break into the back of the
liquor store while Mr. Hockstatler watched. His wife doesn't let him have a
key to the store, you know."
     "I know." He said. He was...just sitting there.
     "Well, they have the bottles, what's left of them, I mean, sitting in
a cardboard box that held bottles of ketchup." I said. "If you go back
there now, you can catch them with the unsold bottles."
     He looked at me and said, "Get in the car with me, son."
     "Uh, I shouldn't be seen with you." I nattered nervously. Hell, I
didn't want any part of this beyond turning him in.
     "Get in." he repeated.
     "Am I under arrest?"
     "No, no." he said, gesturing to his passenger seat. "Just that what I
have to say can't be said here where everyone can see you. Come on, get in
and I'll drive us someplace we can talk."
     I shrugged and went around, got in. He was silent during the short
trip, and I heard bursts of static interspersed with voices that spoke what
to me was garble-warble. We ended up behind a warehouse, an alley just as
private as the one behind the supermarket only a lot cleaner, and he turned
off the car's engine and signed himself out as being on a break.
     Then he turned around and put one beefy leg on the seat between us,
turning his body to face me in the car. I saw how the crotch of his uniform
formed a taut little bulb and I licked my lips, then looked up into his
eyes.
     "Corey?"
     "Yes, sir." I said.
     "Call me Gavin." he said. "Gavin McKimson is my name, my friends call
me Gavin, and since we're going to be neighbors, we ought to be friendly."
     "Yes, s--, uh, Gavin."
     "Tell me, Corey, why are you mad at Johnny Ling?"
     "What makes you say that?" I stalled.
     "I heard you meet him this morning, and you were friendly enough. You
remember, you were looking in my window at the time?"
     "I'm sorry about that." I said. I was just looking around and saw
you."
     He smiled again, an easy smile. "That's all right. But now tell me,
why are you mad at Johnny Ling? I'm sure you're not the kind of boy who
told the teachers about his classmates all the time, were you?'
     "No!" I said.
     "So why come looking for me to tell me about Johnny Ling?"
     "Well...what he's doing is wrong."
     "Of course it is." Gavin agreed. "But if we arrested everyone who
broke those kind of laws, we wouldn't have anyone out on the street. We
only bring someone in for buying or selling liquor, or for minor drug
possession, if we have a reason for wanting that person off the street. Or
if the person is involved in other crimes, we maybe want to lay the
groundwork of a police record, so when we do capture him on the bigger
crime, we can get a stiffer sentence handed down. But to drag in a teenaged
boy out to earn a little spending money by petty theft and illicit sale,
well, it's against the law but we have better things to spend the
taxpayer's money on than catching the people who are doing it."
     "Yes, sir." I said.
     "What happened?" he asked me.
     I shrugged and told him the story, leaving out the rough sex in the
landlord's trailer but filling in all the rest with the straight,
unvarnished truth. "So he dropped me cold." I said, feeling a little angry,
or maybe needing to justify myself. "I went in with him, breaking and
entering, and then had a gun pulled on me, and he just drops me."
     "Honor among thieves." Gavin chuckled. "There never is any." he
clarified to my puzzled look.
     "Yeah, sort of." I said. "So I figured if he wanted to cut me out, I
didn't owe him any favors any more."
     "But he doesn't know you're here?" Gavin said appraisingly.
     "No." I agreed. "I don't want him or Mr. Hockstatler coming looking
for me. I have to live in that trailer park, you know. I just didn't want
him to get away with it."
     "Good." Gavin said. "Corey, how would you like a job working for the
right side of the law."
     "Huh? How?" I asked. "Become a policeman?"
     "If you want to, later." he agreed. "But you should probably go
through a tour of duty with the armed forces first. But right now...you're
friends with Johnny."
     "I was."
     "Was friends with him, and can be again. And Johnny's friends with
Lloyd Jackson."
     "Yeah." I said. "Good friends."
     "And Lloyd is friends with a man you may have seen, or heard that
motorcycle of his...goes by the name of T-Bone."
     "Yeah, I've seen him." I agreed cautiously. What was all this?
     "I said we don't bother with the small-time criminals, that we let
them go to concentrate on the big ones. T-Bone is one of the big ones for
this small town. Burglary, armed robbery, a couple of counts of
assault. We're about to make an arrest. We just need to catch him, really
catch him, on one count and the rest will all fall into place."
     "So what do you want me to do?" I said. "Be your stool-pigeon?"
     He looked at me over the tops of his glasses briefly, like a prudish
schoolteacher, and I blushed. Wasn't I already doing that voluntarily?
"Just keep me posted on his movements, and his plans as much as you know of
them. We'll take it from there. You won't be called as a witness, except
the same time and way we call in Lloyd Jackson."
     I thought this all over. "So what's in it for me? A paycheck?"
     "We can arrange some compensation." he agreed. "But that gets you
listed as an employee of the police department, and the defense attorney
can call you in on it. You wanted to avoid trouble."
     "So I get nothing." I said.
     "You perform a civic duty."
     "Civic shit." I said.
     "Or I can take you in right now." He said.
     "Huh?" I looked at him. "What for?"
     "Breaking and entering. You admitted it to me." he pointed out.
     "Shit!" I said, disgusted. He got me trusting him and then....
     "But we could arrange a deal." He said. "We don't want you. We want
T-Bone Durrant."
     "Arrange a deal." I said, looking at him. "What can you offer me worth
risking my neck for?"
     "What do you want?" He asked me.
     I turned and looked at him. That broad, firm body. The heavily muscled
arms bulging out the sleeves of his shirt. The too-tight pants and that
bulge at its nexus. I licked my lips again.
     His arm which had been resting on the back of the seat slid off and
onto his leg. Casually, not cupping anything, just resting there.
     "I got to get some money out of this, so Mom will think I'm working."
I said. "She won't let me just go hang out with Lloyd, she'll come looking
for me, make me find a real job."
     "We have a discretionary fund. I can arrange some money without having
your name put on the books as personnel." He agreed. Now his hand went up
to cup his crotch.
     I looked down at it, and then up at his eyes, hidden behind
mirrors. But there was a softness to the angle of his cheek.... "You knew I
was watching you this morning." I said to him, a curiously soft tone
entering my voice.
     "I knew." He agreed.
     I let a small smile lift one side of my mouth. "Then I know what I
want. And it ain't no civic duty."
     "I was sort of hoping you were thinking that way." He sighed as my
hand went over to replace his at his groin. I felt the strong globe of his
manhood there, a sphere of softly yielding flesh. I squeezed it and he
sighed kind of huskily.
     I leaned over and my arm hit the radio he had affixed to the central
area, or maybe it was something else, a big, black, boxy piece of
metal. "Ouch!" I said but I leaned on over and he scooted as I zeroed my
face in on his basket and I sandwiched my face between the steering wheel
and his body and I gnawed at the cloth there, a strong flavor to the
material that was either the tan dye they used on it, or the material
itself, my tongue didn't consider this to be edible and was warning me
about that fact, a strong sort of dry-grass taste.
     His hands, big broad paws of roughened flesh, gripped my head, the
callouses like separate pads pressing against my scalp here and there, the
fingertips were broader, softer pads and they felt warm and alive.
     I fumbled with his fly, after casting a glance at the broad black belt
he wore and decided it was too complex to try to undo as part of sexual
foreplay, so I settled for catching the cold metallic tab of the zipper and
tugging it down, the zipper not wanting to release for me, the cloth
buckled up in a fold, but I kept at it and got the zipper over this hurdle
and down and a gush of warm air flowed out, filled with the aroma of his
crotch, a heavy meaty fragrance. But what I saw was white cotton, his
briefs.
     His hands were dancing encouragements on my head as I fished inside
those briefs and found the slit lower than I'd expected and managed to get
my fingers inside them and touched the heat and velvety skin of his
manhood, hot to my fingertips. I scrabbled my fingers around that hardening
shaft and brought it out with some constriction and difficulty, to make a
stubby greeting outside of his crotch. I took it in my mouth, but in this
position only the cockhead was truly available to me, the rest was crammed
and cramped inside his pants still.
     I got the salty savor of his precome and managed to elicit a few
appreciative gasps from him, before I rose up. "This isn't working." I
complained. "I can't hardly move with the steering wheel and this radio and
stuff."
     He massaged my head. "Let's get outside the car." He suggested.
     I was quick to rise up and get out, my heart beating fast. This big
stud cop had turned me on ever since I'd first met him. His body was
enough; the uniform was just a sort of icing on the cake for me. But it was
awfully sweet icing, had me panting for him more than ever.
     He was slower to leave the car, I guess he had to put his dong back
into his pants or risk the zipper savaging him or something, but I met him
on his side as he closed the door, and I was kneeling on the hard asphalt
of the alleyway and fishing his cock back out of his pants once again.
     This time I was able to tug the elastic band of the briefs down and
pull that proud prick out into the sunlight, a solid nine inches of hard
policeman's pud and when I wrapped my lips around it and sent it down my
gullet, my cop friend moaned just the way I'd imagined he would, back when
I was staring at his ass and dreaming of holding his body.
     That reminded me, now that I had room to move, I reached up and tugged
sightlessly at the belt buckle just above eye level while I sent that
sturdy stud-sucker thrilling down my throat, deep-loving him as I wrestled
with the unfamiliar fastenings.
     His hands knocked mine away and he gave his belt a rapid tug and it
fell heavily from his waist, the gun on the right-hand side and the baton
on the left combining to send it whirling free, and I was surprised to see
that the belt wasn't otherwise fastened onto him. No, he had a second belt
which performed the more mundane duty of holding up his pants, this was a
regular one-prong belt (the gunbelt had three of them in an arrangement
which kept them all aligned and in harmony, which was what had baffled me),
and it was the work of a moment to give it a more practiced yank and then I
could lift that silly silver tab-in-slot at the waistband and now the pants
were free to fall from his body.
     Except they wouldn't, his legs were so damned thick with muscle that
the pants clung just as they were, I had to wrestle them downwards, even
the briefs clung to his body like a second skin and I was forced to let his
wonderful dong loose in order to fight my battle with his trousers, but
then I had the tan pants sliding down from his deeper brown sun-tanned legs
and then only his boots kept the pants from puddling at his ankles.
     His buttocks were rippling handholds as I grabbed them and putting
that jizz-weeping cockhead back into my mouth, I shoved my face down into
his groin and his hands came down and cupped the back of my head and he was
helping grind my cheeks against his pubic hair, my chin nestling his balls,
that long, strong prong buried in my throat where it belonged!
     "Ah, gah, yes!" He groaned. "Suck it for me. Take it the way you've
been wanting to, take all of it!"
     Hell, he didn't have to beg me to do that! I was happy to begin the
pleasant task of sending that thick tool back and forth across my clutching
lips, to wring the pleasure from him in separate, desperate tones that
dripped from his tongue like honey from a honey wand.
     And then he released my head and grabbed me under the armpits and
before I could protest, he had me on my feet and he almost threw me on my
back onto the hood of his police car. My shorts were almost ripped from my
legs, and I again was grateful that I hadn't bothered with underwear this
morning, they would have been useless impediments on this sexually active
Sunday. So my cock was happily arcing itself up from flaccid sleep as his
mustache grubbed into my rather scanty pubic hair like a brush and his lips
and tongue were urging my prick into tumescent rigidity even as they
captured the entirety of my dong within that warm dark mouth, so that it
rose up into a hot, moist crevice that choked and stuttered but didn't let
go, so that I gained my erection entirely within his mouth.
     Then, and only then, he began to work my prick, the pleasure washing
over me like a hand strokes a cat's fur, so that the contact/stimulus was
marching up my cockshaft and into my body in uniformly spaced lines of
desire.
     His hands were stroking my chest, and I writhed under his touch,
loving the way he touched me but wanting, too, to get back to sucking his
huge dong again, the flavor of it still lay upon my tongue like the warm
impression of a lover's body upon the bedsheets, the folds bespeaking the
departed form and calling it to your memory.
     He had me quivering with my joy before he desisted and reached up to
accept my kiss of thank-you, his mustache tickling my upper lip as it
brushed my own peach-fuzz-like hairs, taunting them with the future they
aspired to but were still so far from reaching.
     I wrapped my arms around him and gave his broad, strong body a tight
hold, me feeling those muscles as they marched along underneath my
pitifully weak grip, like dignified pontiffs that did not deign to notice
my attempt at imprisoning them, and the third time they ignored my presence
as his hands stroked my shoulders, I felt a surge of irritation at their
disdain for me, and I grabbed hold and I rolled us both over, him giving an
umph! of surprise as I gained my height over him and now he was the one
underneath and his body displayed for my pleaure.
     It was a pleasure, undoing his shirt buttons and kissing the exposed
flesh a little at a time. I especially loved the nub of his nipples, giving
each of them a hard tonguing, his neglected cock now demanding that I
return to it at once, right now!, but now I was in charge and I tasted his
hairy chest and then his lower ribcage, then the six-pack of his abs
received each their special kiss before I returned to the tower of his
manhood and once again besieged that proud fortress with my enveloping
mouth to wring down its bastions, and the precome fled from him like
panicked peasants and gushed onto my mouth.
     I felt myself sliding, and I ended up on my feet, having to crouch in
order to keep his cock in thrall, and finally I pivoted him like that,
still sucking on him, until I was in front of the car and his body was now
more firmly placed upon the hood and I could suck him while standing
upright, and I did so, while his legs splayed widely.
     That enticed me to nuzzle his now-exposed balls and I gave them a good
tongue-washing, and then I raised his legs up into the air, wondering as I
did where his pants and boots had gone in all of this--he must have skinned
his lower body bare while he sucked on me, and I hadn't even noticed! I
envied him that ability, and I imitated it as well as I could, though there
was no way to remove my t-shirt without letting him go, but I kept that
brief and soon I was nude in that semi-public alley, safe in the abandoned
Sunday air of the business district, and then I lifted his legs high and I
buried my tongue in his ass the way I'd wanted to when I'd first observed
it in those cut-offs of his, tasting the tuckered pink cherry hole and him
grunting his pleasure as I rimmed him.
     When I returned to his cock this third time, it was a red-topped,
blood-flooded, hormone-gorged fury, and I sent it into myself and he
groaned at once, and then his hands roughly grabbed my head and he
face-fucked me rapidly, and then he jetted his jism into me, abruptly like
that, I was swallowing his heavy, thick jism and while at first surprise
caused me to choke, soon I had control of it and was drinking him down as
quickly as he could pump it out.
     When at last he lay quiet, his massive chest heaving, sprawled out on
the hood of his black-and-white, only an unbuttoned tan shirt marking him
still as an officer of the law, the rest of his uniform discarded and
getting soiled in this admittedly clean and neat alley, I rose up and
regarded his satiated body, admiring how it shone with his light sheen of
lust-induced sweat, and I ran my hands over that shining body and then his
lips caught my fingers and he sucked on one of my fingertips, before he
rose up.
     "Now it's your turn, kid." He said to me as he slid off onto the
ground. I happily took my turn as ordered, sitting on the hood of that
police car while he bent to his task and milked my pud. Soon I was gasping
as hard as he had, and when he jammed one of those thick fingers up my ass
under the pretense of playing with my asshole, I groaned, shuddered, and my
climax wrung my body into fevered thrashing, and when my ejaculation
finally, finally released, it was with a sense of relief. I'm not sure what
my cop lover had done to me, but somehow he had retarded my ejaculation,
forcing me to hover at the height while my body waited for the signal to
continue and it left me weak and shuddering with many aftershocks of my
orgasm, so that I shivered for what felt like some minutes.
     "Jesus, what did you do?" I asked him when I was done.
     He smiled. "Gave you a little of the Shanghai Squeeze." He said. "I
learned it in the Navy, there's a place you can press against the scrotum
and it keeps a person's jism trapped in their balls. It takes some
practice, but you can see that it's worth it."
     "Shit, you got to show me how you did that." I said
appreciatively. "That was fucking terrific!"
     He grinned. "You give me T-Bone Durrant and I'll show you how I did
it." he agreed.
     "Something to look forward to." I affirmed.
     "Get dressed and I'll take you back to your car." he said. "I'll drop
you off around the corner and you can walk back to your car. You can't be
seen with me, not on duty. Better if you sneak around to my house, that is,
if you want to do it some more."
     "I want to." I agreed. "You just leave that rear window of yours
unlatched so I can slide it open late at night."
     Back at my car, I was about to get in, when I heard Johnny call to
me. "Hey, Corey!" he called.
     I was tempted to ignore him, but hell, if I was going to do what I'd
promised Gavin I would, I had to act friendly to Johnny. "Hey, Johnny!" I
said to him.
     "Give me a ride back to the trailer park?"
     "Uh...sure." I said. "But where's Old Man Hockstatler, your new
business partner?"
     "Hey, Corey, I'm sorry about that." he said. "I'll come up with a way
you can share in things next weekend, okay?"
     "Ah, forget it." I said. "I'll come up with some other way of getting
my pocket money."
     "Hey, Corey, you're all right." he said.
     "Get in."
     He hopped into the seat and he said, "Thanks for the ride."
     "Sure." I said as I started the car. "Only...why aren't you riding
home with Old Man Hockstatler if you're business partners now?"
     "Ah, he wants to stay behind and gab with those guys." he sneered. "I
was trapped until I came around to wait on this side and hope to spot a
ride, and I saw you walking up here. What are you doing here, anyway? The
store's closed."
     "I know that. I just wanted to watch you make your money." I said.
     "Hey, I'll give you some of it." He said.
     "Forget it." I said again. "Like I said, I'll come up with my own way
of making some money."
     Like getting the goods on T-Bone Durrant, I thought to myself. I
wondered if there'd be a reward for turning him in.
     And what he'd do if he found out I'd done it! I shivered at that
thought.
     I was getting in pretty deep here.

                             THE END
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                  WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM