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Trailer Trash Teen Hates Rules Ch. 01

By: RetroFan



INTRODUCTION & DISCLAIMER - In the first installment of this kinky and hilarious sexual comedy set in 1994, a sequel to my "Spoiled Princess Hates Camping Series", trailer park girl Breanna with the assistance of her trampy housing project friend Isabella finally goes too far with her appalling behavior and promiscuity.

This story contains frequent course language, violence and very strong adult themes including ribald sexual humor. All characters engaging in sexual activity are aged 18 and over, and all characters and events are fictional, with similarity to real persons living or dead coincidental and incidental. 

Please enjoy Chapter 1, look out for more chapters as they appear and also check out the Spoiled Princess Hates Camping series.

***

BOB and Anna Wilson each breathed a sigh of relief when the attractive figure of their 18-year-old niece Madison Forsyth vanished from sight as she was delivered back to her father's employee Henry at Newark Airport.

Although a stunningly beautiful blonde, Madison was a spoiled rotten rich girl, and had behaved accordingly during the family camping vacation in the New Jersey Pine Barrens, driving everyone crazy with her bratty, diva demands. At times she had shown improvement, but none of it lasted, and she had departed their van with not so much as a word of thanks.

In the back, Bob and Anna's three kids, 20-year-old John, and 18-year-old fraternal twins Kate and Dylan, had different feelings about Madison's departure.

John, a tall and handsome dark-haired young man, was like his parents glad to see the back of the little bitch, who had ruined the summer camping trip. Madison was a spoiled brat, always had been, and always would be. He had no time for her at all, and was glad to be going back home and seeing his girlfriend Samantha when she returned from visiting her grandparents in Florida.

Kate had mixed feelings as she watched the trees and power-poles pass by. While the tall, large-breasted, big-boned, pretty brunette had been infuriated by her spoiled cousin many times, she and Madison had met two great looking young guys; David, mostly called Davo, from Australia and his friend Travis from New Zealand. Madison had been screwing Davo, and Kate screwing Travis, and her parents knew nothing of this, liking both young men, saying to look them up during their travels as part of their working holiday. Kate would miss Travis a lot, sad to see her vacation romance end, but hoped she would see him again before he and Davo returned to Melbourne, Australia.

Dylan was terribly sorry to see Madison go. The scrawny runt of a young man, at just five foot tall and a full foot shorter than his twin sister and older brother, had spent the camping vacation indulging in is favorite activity of secret voyeurism with Madison. That he and Madison were first cousins did not bother him in the slightest. He had perved at her panties, both by up-skirting her and looking up the legs of her shorts. He had snuck into her tent, taking her dirty panties from her laundry bag and sniffing her feminine smells on the cotton saddles. He had often hidden near the female bathroom when Madison went in there, fantasizing about Madison changing her clothes, naked under the shower or sitting on the toilet with her panties around her ankles. 

Still, Dylan had a souvenir from the trip. It was not a normal souvenir of the location, such as a tee-shirt, a book or a post card that he could display or show to people, but something he would never be able to show to anyone, and must enjoy in private. The souvenir was a pair of Madison's white cotton, bikini brief panties, the saddle smeared with her sticky feminine stains. He had wrapped them in plastic, to preserve the musty smell for his enjoyment when he was alone in his room.

Returning to their suburban street in their Pennsylvania town, the Wilson family unpacked, and Bob and Anna reflected on summer camping vacation, 1994. "If I don't see Madison for another ten years, it will be ten years too soon," said Bob, rubbing his beard.

"I agree," said Anna, brushing her dark hair back from her face. "Still, we're back home now, and I can't exactly see Madison wanting to visit any time soon, can you?"

"No," said Bob. "She openly said what she thinks of our town, and it wasn't nice."

"I wonder what Madison is up to right now?" mused Anna.

"God only knows," said her husband.

***

Bob and Anna of course had no idea what Madison was up to, back to her pampered life of luxury in Manhattan. The girl had felt no greater relief than when the Empire State and Chrysler buildings came into her view, along with the twin towers of the World Trade Center. Upon returning to their apartment, her parents had gone out to tell friends of their luxury cruise.

The family maid was most dismayed to see the spoiled brat return, this time with a bag full of clothes including two weeks of smelly panties to be washed. The middle-aged woman sighed as she put Madison's dirty panties into the machine, one pair at a time. Evidently the little blonde bitch had had some enjoyment on her camping trip, the maid seeing how badly Madison had stained the saddle of some pairs as she often did when she had been enjoying herself with rich boys in The Hamptons. Of course, her clueless parents had no idea of what their precious princess got up to.

Throwing a pair of Madison's smelly pink panties that her employer's teenage daughter had absolutely creamed into the machine, the maid contemplated something far worse that was coming up in a week's time; the brat's period. There was nothing she hated more than soaking and washing menstrual blood from the teenager's panties, when the girl had any mishaps and either side-stained or bled through her pad. The maid had heard that a new type of sanitary pad; one with wings that a woman wrapped around the saddle of her panties to provide greater adherence and protection against menstrual mishaps, would soon be available. She hoped that Madison would use these napkins if and when they came onto the market.

Madison herself was delighted to be back where she belonged; in her parents' luxury apartment, doted upon by both of them and a servant to wait upon her. Wearing a white blouse, short flowery skirt and white sandals that displayed her feet, Madison had answered the intercom to her gay friend Miles, letting him into the apartment.

"Madison, how did you survive?" gushed Miles, hugging his pretty friend, making it sound like she had been to a war zone in some impoverished country in West Africa filled with armed conflict, famine and disease for months on end, rather than camping in the New Jersey Pine Barrens for two weeks.

"It was so awful," complained Madison, equally dramatic. "I thought I was going to die some times."

"Tell Miles all about if for therapy," said Miles.

"I was just about to go to the bathroom," said Madison. "Come with me."

Miles, a skinny, effeminate, dark-haired young man of 18, followed Madison through her luxurious bedroom into her equally luxurious adjoining bathroom, and closed the door behind them. Madison lifted her skirt to expose her white cotton bikini panties, then pulled them down to her ankles and sat her bare bottom down on the toilet, her neatly trimmed blonde pubic hair and her oval-shaped, pink vagina visible. Miles sat on the small bench directly opposite her, Madison not fazed at all by her gay friend joining her while she sat on the toilet.

Sheer relief flowed through Madison's body to be sitting on the familiar toilet at home, and the teenager felt even more relief as she urinated, pee splashing into the bowl.

"Were the toilets really awful?" asked Miles.

"They were awful, just awful," said Madison, taking some extra soft, super-absorbent, triple-ply white toilet paper with butterfly print, and drying her wet pussy. "They were really old, and they had this terrible, scratchy single ply toilet paper."

"Oh, your poor, poor bottom," sympathized Miles.

Madison's facial expression changed as the teenager moved her bowels, splashing sounds in the toilet bowl audible. The smell reached her nostrils, and Madison picked up the can of toilet freshener from the cistern and sprayed it around so instead of the unpleasant smell of her poo, she and Miles could enjoy the smell of spring flowers. Reaching out and unwinding a length of toilet paper from the roll, Madison wiped her bottom, enjoying the softness of the toilet tissue against her anus.

"It's so good to be able to use proper toilet paper again," said Madison, as she again had a poo, then reached for more toilet paper.

"You didn't ever have to do your poo-poos in the woods?" asked Miles as he watched Madison lift the left cheek of her bottom and wipe herself.

"No, although I did have to squat down and pee behind a tree one time," said Madison. "At least I didn't have my period, although my stupid cousin Kate managed to get hers last night." Madison spoke as though Kate had become ill or injured through some stupid or careless action, such as suffering severe sunburn and heatstroke from not taking proper precautions, or food poisoning from failing to take adequate care with food hygiene, rather than something Kate had no control over.

Miles looked at Madison's pussy, seeing that despite spending two weeks camping she had maintained the shaving of the blonde curls from her vagina, leaving a neat triangle of pubic hair on her mound.

"Somebody's been keeping up the landscaping," said Miles, indicating Madison's pussy.

Madison also looked at her vagina. "Yes, I didn't want it to get too hairy. You would absolutely die if you saw Kate's pussy. She has so much hair down there that it's like she has a squirrel between her legs. But what can you expect from a country girl with a big fat ass and no fashion sense? You know, she wore these awful patched jeans?"

"Oh, how embarrassing," exclaimed Miles. "Did you want to vanish?"

"Yes, all the time," said Madison.

Miles looked at Madison's nails, both on her fingers and her toes and sighed. The pink nail polish was all faded and chipped. "But somebody didn't do their nails, did they? Never mind, Miles is here now."

With that, Miles took a bottle of nail-polish remover and pink nail polish, and concentrating on her hands first, removed the old polish and replaced it with new pink polish, Madison becoming impatient at waiting for it to dry as she needed to get toilet paper and wipe her bottom. Finally, the polish was dry, Miles squatted down and took off Madison's shoes leaving her barefoot. Miles fussed over the teenager's feet, removing her nail polish and replacing it with new polish, working around her lowered panties.

"Camping can't have been all bad," said Miles conversationally.

"There was crap food, awful people, dreadful bathrooms, my aunt and uncle and their stupid rules like confiscating my cell phone, my cousin Dylan is a pervert and it was boring," said Madison. She smiled. "Mind you, there was one good thing."

"Would that one good thing have been a guy?" asked Miles.

"Trust you to think of that," said Madison. "You're obsessed by guys."

"Was he really good looking?"

"Yes, he was. He was Australian, a bit of a loudmouth, but really hot."

Miles' interest was more and more aroused. "What was his name?"

"He was called David, but everyone called him Davo."

Miles grinned. "And did we let our guard and our panties down? Were we a bit of a naughty girl, and do things with Davo that we wouldn't want Daddy to find out about?"

Madison smiled as Miles finished with her toes. "Daddy is never going to find out what I did with Davo," she said. Madison got some toilet paper and wiped her bottom clean, and now finished emptying her bowels, stood up and flushed the toilet. She walked over to the bidet, her panties still down around her ankles and sat on it, sighing in delight at the warm jets of water washing her between her legs. "I really missed this."

"I can see that," said Miles. "So does Davo have any brothers or cousins who might be interested in meeting Miles?"

"All back in Australia," said Madison. "He was travelling with this New Zealand guy, Travis. You know, Travis fucked Kate? They were like a pair of rabbits."

"Lucky Kate and lucky Madison, why can't Miles meet great-looking guys from Down Under when he is on vacation?" lamented Miles.

Madison stood up and dried her bottom, then pulled up her panties and smoothed down her skirt, before washing her hands and drying them. "I've got some really good news. Daddy felt so bad about making me go camping that he gave me two thousand dollars to make up for it."

"Wow, two thousand dollars!" exclaimed Miles.

"It was originally one thousand," said Madison. "But when I pouted and cried a little and said how miserable I was camping, Daddy soon doubled it. So with two thousand dollars, we know what that means?"

"Shopping and a girls day out?" gushed Miles.

"You guessed it," said Madison. "Daddy paid off my credit card too, so now we can get even more. I'll call the girls. Are you free Monday?"

"I am now," said Miles, looking forward to a New York summer's day with his wealthy, spoiled female friends shopping and having fun.

***

Bob and Anna would have been disappointed but not overly surprised that the camping trip failed to improve Madison's spoiled and selfish ways and the teenager had reverted to her old pattern of behavior as soon as she returned home. Not that she had improved anyway, and while eighteen was usually not too old to change a person, maybe in Madison's case it was. Bob and Anna and their three kids toiled away unpacking the camping equipment on a pleasant, sunny Saturday afternoon in their Pennsylvanian town.

It was when they had completed their work that a single cloud crossed the azure sky and blocked out the sun. Anna shivered, and her husband noticed. "Did somebody walk over your grave?"

"I think so," said Anna, unable to shake the uneasy feeling from her body. "Do you ever get a bad feeling about something, like a premonition?"

"Yes sometimes, you mean like de ja vu?" asked Bob.

"Something like that," said Anna. "But more a bad feeling."

Bob grinned. "Perhaps your sister and brother have run out of patience with Madison already and sent her back to us? She's probably in a cab just about to turn into our street."

"Don't even joke about it," laughed Anna. "But it was an odd feeling. Oh well, it's probably nothing."

Anna turned and went inside, while Bob wound up a final piece of rope and returned it to the trailer. The sun was shining again, but then just as quickly was obscured by a second cloud and Bob felt the same feelings of unease that had swept over his wife a few minutes earlier. He shook his head to clear the strange feeling. Was something bad about to happen? Although he knew it was ridiculous even as he did it, Bob looked up the street for Madison's slim blonde figure, suitcase in hand, their niece sent to live with them. Like his wife, Bob dismissed the feeling and went to see his wife's parents across the road, who had done such a great job watching the house, watering the garden and house plants and keeping the dogs and cats.

***

In their own childhood and teenage years, Bob and Anna had known just two only children. Bob and Anna were both of Roman Catholic faith, and each one of six kids. Their aunts and uncles had produced numerous cousins for them, and these kids in turn had gone on to produce more and more kids of their own. Madison was the only kid in that generation with no siblings, and this was due to Anna's older sister Carol having fertility problems.

A girl in Anna's class in school was an only child, and she was distinctly spoiled and quite unpleasant. A boy in Bob's class also had no living siblings with his brother and sister both dying in early childhood. His delusional parents had believed that God had taken their two good kids and left them with a bad kid and this boy was hardly spoiled, unless both parents inflicting severe beatings on their son at least weekly could be construed as spoiled. When Bob read years later in the newspaper that his former classmate had been arrested and received life imprisonment after being convicted of a series of terrible crimes in Philadelphia, he was hardly surprised.

These memories and their experiences of Madison led Bob and Anna to conclude that being an only child was bad, although they had also seen examples of dysfunction in larger families amongst their relations. The best example was Bob's younger brother Wyatt. Unlike Bob, their other brother Bill and their three sisters, Wyatt was a lazy and work-shy boy who failed in school, fell in with the wrong crowd and made one of them, a shrill blonde woman named Rosanne, his wife.

Wyatt and Rosanne lived on the other side of the town, separated from the main area by a river, a railroad track and a busy highway. This part of town was literally the wrong side of the tracks. There was a main street containing a small rundown supermarket, a gas station, some other stores and some less desirable establishments, including a tattoo parlor, a bar with a reputation for trouble and violence, an adult bookstore and a pawnbrokers that also cashed checks and gave out high interest short term loans. Several homeless drunks could be seen at all hours of the day in the main street, and during school term, teenagers from the terrible high school that serviced that location playing truant frequented the area, adding to the graffiti over the walls.

The individual houses in this part of town were formerly coal-miners cottages, but the pit had closed years earlier, and while the houses in Bob and Anna's part of town were generally well kept with nice gardens, these houses were mostly run-down, with badly kept gardens full of weeds.

A short way away was a housing project, two rows of three-story walk-up apartments. These were like luxury condominiums when compared to the nightmare high-rise housing projects blighting many of America's large cities, but still a place that the wary avoided, especially by night.

Then there was the trailer park, a sprawling mass of mobile and transportable homes, one of which Wyatt and Roseanne and their six children called home. Lack of space and money, Wyatt and Roseanne mainly relying on welfare and taking loans from the finance company or pawning items when funds were tight, did not prevent them from having such a large family.

Their two eldest kids were Dustin and Breanna, aged 19 & 18 respectively. This fine Saturday afternoon they were in their usual spot in front of the television, smoking cigarettes and drinking beer. This was not just on Saturdays, but every day of the week. Neither Dustin nor Breanna filled any part of their time with work or study.

Dustin, a scrawny youth with untidy hair styled in a mullet wore a black tee-shirt with an offensive homophobic slogan and jeans. His sister Breanna was without doubt attractive, possessing a nice figure, wavy blonde hair flowing down to her shoulders and the face of a model, although slightly let down with too much make-up and a hard facial expression. She wore a skimpy pink shirt that barely covered her white bra and her round C-cup breasts, her midriff completely exposed. On her bottom, Breanna wore a pair of tight denim shorts, her white cotton bikini panties visible at the top. Her bare feet she rested on the table as she took deep drags on her cigarette and swallowed the beer.

Dustin likewise took a mouthful of beer from the bottle after finishing his cigarette. "Where did you get this beer from?" he asked his sister.

"I found it," said Breanna. "A carton fell off the back of a truck."

"Fuck Breanna, I don't want the cops here," complained Dustin. "If they see my other smokes ..."


Trailer Trash Teen Hates Rules Ch. 01



"You don't like it, don't fucking drink it," said Breanna, a sneer on her face.

"Yeah, I'm just saying ..." said Dustin.

"Well don't fucking say," said Breanna irritably. "You give me the shits Dustin. Literally." Breanna got up off the couch and headed for the bathroom.

"Get me another beer on your way back," said Dustin.

"Get off your ass and get it yourself, you fucking loser," retorted Breanna.

"Fucking bitch," said Dustin to his sister's departing figure.

"Useless cunt," said Breanna, a person who always had to have the last word. She gave Dustin an obscene hand gesture as she left the room.

Breanna walked down the small passageway and into the bathroom shared by eight people. Without bothering to close the door Breanna checked for toilet paper, put down the toilet seat, then pulled down her shorts and her panties to her ankles. This showed off the blonde triangle of hair that covered her pubic mound and her pink oval-shaped vagina, and at the back the firm cheeks of her bare bottom, Breanna's starfish-shaped anus visible when she leaned forward and her butt cheeks parted.

Breanna sat down on the toilet, her legs wide open, her bare feet poking out from under her shorts and panties. Attached to the saddle of Breanna's panties was a sanitary napkin, with the girl having been on her period for the past five days. From Breanna's urethra emerged a stream of yellow pee, which made a trickling, splashing sound as the teenager urinated into the toilet bowl. Having finished peeing, Breanna unwound some toilet paper, dabbed her pussy dry and continued to sit on the toilet, her facial expression changing as she moved her bowels, a series of splashing sounds filling the bathroom and hallway as Breanna's poo came out of her bottom and went into the toilet.

Unwinding toilet paper, Breanna wiped her anus but as she reached for the toilet roll a second time Dustin, whose desire for beer had overcome his laziness had seen him set out for the kitchen, appeared in the trailer's hallway. His mouth went wide in horror at the sight of his younger sister sitting on the toilet having a shit, her pussy and pubic hair on full display, her shorts and panties down around her ankles, her menstrual pad visible. 

"For fucks sake Breanna, close the fucking door!" he yelled, going to do it himself, averting his eyes from his sister.

"Don't you dare put any part of your fucking body in here," snapped Breanna as Dustin reached for the door. "Fuck off, you pervert and don't fucking talk to me when I'm having a shit or I'll smash you."

"Breanna, if you want privacy close the fucking door when you go to the bathroom," said Dustin, turning his back and hoping that the mental images would not haunt his dreams. Unfortunately, this was hardly an isolated incident. Breanna would often sit on the toilet or shower with the bathroom door open just to shock and offend. Frequently she would walk around the trailer in her bra and panties. Sometimes she would go topless and other times bottomless, and just the other week had walked into the living room stark naked when everyone was watching television. Breanna's dirty underwear was often left on the floor. It would have been Dustin's greatest dream for a pretty, nubile 18-year-old girl to walk around the trailer in her underwear, partially dressed or in the nude but as the attractive 18-year-old girl was his sister, this was his worst nightmare.

Things only got worse when Breanna felt a rush of air come out of her pussy, making a flatulent sound that echoed loudly in the toilet bowl. "Breanna, that's disgusting farting like that when I'm right here," said Dustin as he went to go back to the living area, deeply traumatized.

"I queefed, you fucking idiot," said Breanna.

"Queefed? What the fuck is that?" asked Dustin, although he really did not want to know.

"It means I farted from my pussy, not my ass," said Breanna.

"Yuck," complained Dustin. "Why did you have to do that?"

"It's normal, all girls do it. Why don't you try having a vagina for a week, Dustin and see for yourself? You're a big girl anyway, so you're halfway there already," challenged Breanna.

Two more people appeared in the trailer hallway; Dustin and Breanna's parents. Wyatt, a skinny middle-aged man with untidy, thinning brown hair and a walrus-like moustache wore a checked shirt, jeans, boots and a cap on his head; while Rosanne wore a white dress that showed too much of her cleavage, an over-supply of bad make-up, with her blonde hair lank and poorly maintained.

Wyatt's eyes went wide and he turned away quickly at the sight of his teenage daughter's vagina while she was using the toilet, although this was not the first time he had seen her do this. Rosanne did not turn away, instead glaring at her daughter. "Breanna!" yelled Wyatt and Rosanne in unison.

"So everybody wants to watch me on the toilet today?" yelled Breanna, the girl reaching for the toilet roll at the same time. "I should charge money for this. Pay twenty dollars to see Breanna Wilson sitting on the toilet having a shit, thirty dollars to watch her pooing on the toilet while she has her period."

Rosanne was furious. She strode towards the bathroom door, pressed the button on the handle to lock it and slammed it shut. Breanna was now gone from view, but her toilet smell lingered outside the bathroom. Wyatt and Dustin both beat hasty retreats, knowing that the mental images would haunt them for months, if not years to come.

"Breanna, how many times have I told you to close and lock the door when you use the toilet?" Rosanne snapped, her high-pitched voice filling the trailer. "Especially when you have your period!"

"How about everybody stay the fuck out of my way when I take a shit and I'm on the rag, you stupid cow?" yelled Breanna through the door. "Can't I have any fucking privacy?"

"Doors and locks are what gives you privacy, Missy!" called Rosanne, frustrated at her daughter who seemed to be a professional at being illogical. When Breanna wasn't in one of her rebellious moods and acting as normal as was possible for her, the girl always closed and locked the bathroom door when she went to the toilet. As Rosanne stormed into the kitchen, she heard Breanna swearing and cursing in response, but was not about to rise to the bait.

Behind the bathroom door, now closed and locked, Breanna continued to have a poo, unwinding and using toilet paper to wipe her bottom as she needed it. The teenager looked down at her pad, seeing that the red stains were few and far between, and none of them new. She looked into the toilet, seeing no menstrual blood either in the bowl or on her dirty toilet paper. Breanna took some sheets of toilet paper and circled it around the interior of her vagina, but there was no blood. Her period was over. Breanna leaned forward on the toilet and removed her napkin from her panties, but rather than place it in a paper bag or wrap it up for disposal, she simply tossed it onto the floor.

Now finished, Breanna stood up, pulled up her panties and shorts and flushed the toilet. Washing her hands, Breanna left the smelly bathroom, but rather than return to the living room, the girl walked quietly on her bare feet into the room her three brothers shared.

She looked at Dustin's bed, still unmade despite it being late in the afternoon, and lifted the mattress, a sly smile coming over Breanna's face. Her brother was so obvious, hiding his stash here. Breanna's nimble fingers, which made her an expert at shoplifting, reached out and took the plastic bag filled with marijuana, which she slipped into the waist of her panties. 

Returning to the living room, Breanna felt the bag of pot in her undies and waited for show time. It wasn't long in coming, when she heard Dustin frantically searching his bedroom, cursing and swearing. She giggled, then heard his footsteps as he strode back to the living room, incandescent with rage.

"You, outside now you fucking little bitch," he spat at Breanna.

"Why don't you ask nicely?" asked Breanna. "Sister dear, please accompany me to the outdoors?"

"Just get your ass outside, Breanna," snapped Dustin.

Breanna got up and went outside with her brother, a sly smirk designed to make Dustin even angrier on her face. "You seem stressed about something, brother. Is there anything that's bothering you?"

"Where is it, Breanna?" Dustin demanded.

"Where's what?" Breanna put an innocent, 'butter wouldn't melt in my mouth' look upon her face.

"You know what. Give it back now. Don't play dumb with me."

"How the fuck am I supposed to know what you're talking about when you don't say?"

Dustin's face was bright red, but not wanting anyone to overhear said in a low voice. "There was a bag of grass in my bedroom. It's gone and I want it back now."

"Oh look, there's some grass there for you," said Breanna, pointing at the overgrown grass that grew near the dilapidated trailer. "Problem solved."

"You smart-ass bitch, you know exactly what I mean," said Dustin. "Give it back, and give it back now."

"What are you going to do if I don't, call the police?" smirked Breanna.

"Fuck you!" shouted Dustin, scarlet with rage.

"Yeah, and fuck you too, Dustin," yelled Breanna.

"Hey, what's going on out here?" came the voice of their father, Wyatt appearing behind them.

"Nothing," shrugged Dustin.

"Dustin was carrying on like a great homo," said Breanna.

Before Wyatt could say any more, the shrill voice of Rosanne was heard from the trailer. "Wyatt! Kids! Dinner!"

Wyatt and Dustin led the way inside, Breanna following and satisfied that the pot remained safe in her panties and that her brother would never get his hands on it.

As Wyatt and Dustin went into the kitchen, where the two younger boys and two younger girls were getting their dinner, Rosanne held out her hand to Breanna. "Not you." She pushed her daughter down the corridor so they would be out of earshot. "I want to talk to you about a period pad that was left on the bathroom floor."

Breanna regarded her mother with a smart expression. "Well, I don't want to talk to you about a period pad that was left on the bathroom floor."

Rosanne grabbed her daughter roughly by the upper arm. "Don't be a smart-ass with me, you filthy little slut. I've told you before about leaving your dirty pads on the floor or stuck to your panties instead of putting them in the trash where they belong."

Breanna pushed her mother's arm to loosen her grip. "Get off me, you're fucking hurting me."

"Well then Missy, you stop being such a dirty bitch and there won't be a problem." Rosanne released her grip, and Breanna glared at her mother, before making for the kitchen, where her father, brothers and sisters were getting their dinner - spaghetti with ketchup on top - to take into the living room to eat in front of the television.

Approaching the bench, Breanna opened her mouth and belched as loudly as she possibly could.

Her father glared at her. "Breanna!" Wyatt said in a tone that indicated his patience levels were low, his stress levels high.

"Better out than in, and better that end than the other," said Breanna. She regarded the spaghetti and bottle of ketchup with disdain. "What a wonderful dinner, Mother. So where's the fucking salad?"

"Breanna, will you cut out the filthy goddamn language?" snapped Rosanne.

"Including blasphemy?" smirked Breanna. "So, where's the salad then?"

Rosanne sighed. If there was salad, Breanna would refuse to eat it so she was just being difficult as usual. "There's some in the refrigerator. Cut it up yourself."

Breanna opened the door, to find just one vegetable; half a lettuce with wilted leaves and hard stalks. "What, this fucking crap?" she demanded, grabbing it and holding it up. "I'm not eating this, the cunt of a thing is fucked. I'd rather eat my own shit than eat this."

With that, Breanna threw the lettuce at the wall and went to get some spaghetti.

"Breanna, pick up the lettuce!" screeched Rosanne, as Wyatt stood back helplessly, too stressed to do anything to resolve the problem.

"Pick up the fucking lettuce yourself," retorted Breanna, turning on her bare feet and going into the living room. Sitting next to Dustin, who was about to eat his own dinner, Breanna snatched his plate from his hand. "Give me that," she demanded.

"Breanna, what the fuck?" yelled Dustin.

"You can have my dinner," said Breanna, tipping her own plate into her brother's lap.

"You fucking bitch!" yelled Dustin, jumping up with spaghetti and ketchup going everywhere. He went to grab Breanna's plate to retaliate, but his sister was too quick and kicked Dustin in the groin with one of her bare feet. Dustin doubled over in a scream of pain.

"Okay Breanna, that's enough, get out and go to your room," ordered Rosanne.

"Good, I don't to be with you fucking losers anyway," sneered the teenager, giving Dustin a hard punch on his back as she left the living room.

"Hey!" shouted Wyatt, dismayed at how violent Breanna could be at times. He would never readily admit it, but he was actually afraid of his bad-tempered daughter.

"Oh, what the fuck are you going to do about it, Dad?" yelled Breanna, before storming into the bedroom she shared with her two younger sisters and slamming the door so hard the trailer vibrated.

In the bedroom, Breanna took off her skimpy top and denim shorts, cast them into a corner and stood wearing her white bra and panties. Reaching into the closet, she took out a revealing black top and a black mini-skirt that barely covered her panties, then put her bare feet into a pair of high-heeled shoes. She applied more make-up, teasing her hair and collecting her bag and two bottles of bourbon she had stolen from a liquor store two days earlier, made for the door.

"Where are you going?" demanded her mother as Breanna passed the living room on her way out of the trailer.

"Out if it's any of your fucking business," retorted her daughter, leaving the trailer and slamming the door. Wyatt and Rosanne, breathing heavily, exchanged glances knowing that they should go after Breanna and discipline her for her bad behavior, but the thought of a Breanna-free evening was too appealing, and they returned to eating the spaghetti and watching television with Dustin and the other younger kids, who likewise were glad to be rid of Breanna, for the moment at least.

***

Breanna walked through the trailer park and up the road to the housing project where her best friend Isabella Ramirez lived with her mother and her mother's boyfriend. Isabella's older brother used to live there, but Richie was at present serving time in prison for stealing cars in New Jersey.

Climbing the stairs to the second floor, Breanna knocked on the door and heard Isabella and her mother's boyfriend - a creepy middle-aged guy named Carlos - arguing in Spanish, then Isabella opened the door. Isabella, aged 18, was a slim and stunningly attractive Latina girl with a nice figure and shapely C-cup breasts, her mocha-colored skin perfect, her long dark hair and her pretty dark eyes accentuating her beauty. Like Breanna, she wore a revealing black top and a black mini-skirt. However, like Breanna, Isabella's beauty was somewhat reduced by a hard facial expression, and her habit of wearing too much make up.

"Hey Issy," said Breanna.

"Hey Bree," said Isabella, collecting her bag and a bottle of wine, which like Breanna she had obtained without paying. 

"Isabella, you are not going out with that slut," warned Carlos, who appeared behind Isabella, wearing jeans and a vest. "When your mother is out for the evening, you do what I say."

"Who the fuck are you calling a slut you loser?" Breanna demanded.

"You, you trailer park tramp," retorted Carlos. "Go back there with the rest of the trash."

"Go and fuck yourself, Carlos," snapped Isabella. "It will make a fucking change from you trying to fuck me, and giving me the shits you fucking pervert. Anyway, I'm 18-years-old and can do whatever the fuck I like."

With this foul-mouthed tirade, Isabella turned and she and Breanna walked downstairs into the twilight. "He was trying to fuck you again?" asked Breanna.

"Yeah, fucking dickhead," said Isabella. "Maybe I shouldn't sit with my legs open so he can see my panties, but its fucking fun to tease the stupid asshole and making him know he'll never get near me."

"What time is Rocky picking us up?" asked Breanna.

"About eight," said Isabella. She checked her wrist watch. "That means we've got about half an hour to kill."

"I've got some good news," said Breanna. "First, look what I found in Dustin's room." She and Isabella went into a dark corner out of sight of the road, where Breanna reached into her bag, and pulled out Dustin's stash of marijuana.

"That's some good shit," said Isabella, as she and Breanna lit up their regular cigarettes and took deep drags. "Does Dustin know you took it?"

"Yeah, and he carried on like a fucking fag. I thought he was going to cry like a little bitch." Breanna laughed, and continued. "Second, my period finished today, so you, me and Rocky get to have a shitload more fun than if I was still on the rag."

Isabella smiled, and she and Breanna finished their smokes, throwing the butts on the ground without extinguishing them. The two friends then embraced and the girls began to kiss, first on the lips, then pushing their tongues into their mouths, the pretty teenagers - Breanna's blonde hair, blue eyes and fair skin contrasting with Isabella's dark, sultry Latina features - French kissing deeply. Their hands roamed over each other's nubile bodies, each girl sliding her hand up the other girl's skirt to feel her panties. Between their legs, both Breanna and Isabella felt their clitorises tingle, and their vaginas moisten.

Breanna and Isabella were unashamedly bisexual, often having threesomes with guys who loved the eagerness with which the two girls went down on each other, or having sex together when no guys were around. However, while the girls were comfortable with swinging both ways and lesbian activity, their opinions on male homosexuality exposed both as hypocrites, both girls condemning gay males with astonishing venom, or telling offensive jokes about them.

It was homosexuals who would bear the brunt of what happened next, after Breanna and Isabella finished making out and Breanna took from her bag a can of spray-paint, obtained from a hardware store by means of five finger discount.

Leading Isabella over to a wall, Breanna shook up the can and sprayed a homophobic slogan on it, before tossing the can to Isabella, who likewise added to Breanna's graffiti with more offensive spray-painting.

"Like you were saying, it's good your period finished today," said Isabella, as she sprayed the walls and thought of what she, Breanna and Rocky would be doing at the rave tonight.

"Yeah, you can't fuck when you're on the rag," said Breanna. "I mean you can jerk a guy off or go down on him, but letting him fuck your pussy when it's that time of the month is too messy."

"Carlos is fucking weird when I'm on the rag," said Isabella. "It was my period last week, and I saw him going through the trash and getting my dirty pads out and staring at them. Not playing with them, or smelling them like he does with my panties, just staring at them."

"Shit, that's fucked up," said Breanna, who took the can back from Isabella to spray more graffiti, the two girls occupying themselves with this until Rocky arrived in his pick-up truck to take them to the rave. 

Rocky, a tall, 19-year-old guy with tattoos wore a sleeveless shirt and jeans with his long brown hair in a pony-tail. "Hey girls," he called to them.

"Hey Rocky, guess what color panties we're wearing today," called Breanna, she and Isabella giggling.




Trailer Trash Teen Hates Rules Ch. 01



Rocky considered. "I think white for you Breanna, and pink for Issy."

"You're right for Bree, but wrong for me," Isabella said. "Mine are blue, see?" With that, Isabella lifted her short skirt to show of the light blue bikini panties she wore, Breanna lifting her skirt too to display her white panties.

Isabella and Breanna walked over to Rocky, and Isabella said, "Just because you got it wrong, it doesn't mean you won't be getting into them later tonight."

Rocky grinned and felt the stirrings in the front of his underpants.

Breanna noticed and laughed. "You're excited." She and Isabella stroked the front of Rocky's jeans, the teenagers feeling his erection getting harder and harder. They climbed into the truck, and Rocky drove to the rave, held at a vacant farm.

Numerous young adults, aged mainly from 18 to 21, milled around drinking, smoking cigarettes and marijuana and using other recreational drugs. The music - heavy metal, grunge and techno - blared at high volume. Breanna, Isabella and Rocky were quick to join in, and quickly found a new dangerous game to play. This was truck surfing, where one climbed onto the back of a truck, which was then driven around a field at great speed, swerving and braking suddenly, while one tried to maintain one's balance.

Isabella and Breanna proved good at the game, unlike an intoxicated red-haired girl of the same age who threw up and fell onto her back, displaying her white panties, giggling and trying to get back to her feet.

The song changed to a heavy metal song the girls particularly liked, and whooping it up, Isabella and Breanna stood on the truck as again it was driven around at great speed, stopping and swerving violently in the darkness.

***

In the nice part of town, the Wilson house was much quieter as the family got ready for bed, tired after their camping vacation. In the main bedroom, Bob and Anna were already sound asleep.

In his room, John got into bed and let his mind's eye take him to Philadelphia, where Samantha's plane would be about due to land. The slim figure of his pretty, 20-year-old strawberry-blonde girlfriend appeared before him in his imagination and John smiled. 

John and Samantha were a classic example of childhood sweet-hearts meant to be together for life. They had met in first grade, when their teacher, an old-fashioned spinster type, insisted that the children all be seated in alphabetical order, and with Samantha having the surname Williams, John and Samantha were assigned desks next to each other. With both having similar interests, such as sports, they soon became friends and spent a great deal of their younger years together.

Samantha like her parents were nice as can be, but Samantha had not had the easiest of lives. Her brother, two years younger, was mentally disabled and hard to control at times, Samantha having to assist her parents with him, something she always took in her stride as part of her sunny personality. However, Samantha's life took an unexpected turn in the sixth grade, when she passed out one day in gym class, and a lump was found in her shoulder. The subsequent diagnosis of lymphatic cancer meant a series of treatments including chemotherapy that made her very sick, but during this dark time John showed amazing maturity, caring and sensibility for a boy not yet in his teens, visiting Samantha when she was off school and helping her with her homework so she did not have to repeat the sixth grade, something she was worried about as she wanted to remain with her friends. John was always there for her when she was sick and feeling down, and when they started junior high in the fall, he was there to walk her to school, with Samantha's head covered with a scarf as her hair had not re-grown.

Dating through high school, Samantha and John were voted 'most likely to marry' in their senior yearbook, and in John's eyes, Samantha was the only woman he wanted to be with in life. Sure, he noticed other pretty girls, such as Kate's friends, but only Samantha made his heart race and truly turned him on. They were saving for their future together, John working at an agricultural supplier, Samantha in a bank while studying part time at night. During the camping trip, when not being irritated by the behavior of his spoiled cousin Madison, John had come to a decision about his and Samantha's future, and the inevitable question he must pluck up the courage to ask.

Along the hallway, his scrawny, hyperactive runt of a brother Dylan lay in his bed indulging in solitary vices. Normally he preferred to masturbate when alone in the house, but with Madison's panties in his hands, Dylan was so turned on he could not resist it, and figured that as long as he was quiet, it was okay to jerk off.

Dylan held up the white cotton panties and sniffed the saddle for the umpteenth time, absorbing his cousin's feminine smell. He was careful to keep in place a single blonde pubic hair that had become attached to the front panel, and Dylan fantasized about the many more similar hairs that grew on Madison's mound and around her vulva. Dylan looked at the cream colored pussy stains on the double cotton, and imagined what the source of the stains - Madison's vagina - looked like, and how neat it would be to sniff it in person, to finger it, to lick it and to fuck it. 

Further back was an interesting stain, the slightest brown smudge from where the panties had rested against Madison's anus. It did not even really qualify as a skid-mark, so small was the stain, but Dylan was amazed as this was proof positive that poo actually came out of Madison's bottom when she went to the toilet. Fantasizing about his pretty blonde cousin stark naked, her tits, pubes, bare bottom and bare feet on display, Dylan jerked off, making sure to keep as quiet as possible.

Madison was not the only star of the show in Dylan's head, there was also Andrea, the pretty blonde 18-year-old Polish girl who lived next door and a former classmate of himself and Kate. Dylan had seen her mother hanging out the family clothes soon after his own family had returned, including Andrea's bras and panties. Then Andrea had returned wearing the uniform from the ice-cream parlor where she worked in the summers and weekends, and after her parents left for the evening along with her younger brother, Andrea's boyfriend, a tall and muscular college football player had arrived for a visit. Imagining Andrea lying naked on her bed with her legs open, getting her vagina thoroughly fucked was of great enjoyment to Dylan, with the only thing better screwing Andrea himself. Or Andrea and Madison having some girl on girl action, eating each other's pussies out and licking the other's anal area ...

Kate was the last to go to bed, and stood naked under the shower. She had tied back her long dark hair to prevent it getting wet, and her full bodied, six foot tall figure - her enormous E-cup breasts, the plump cheeks of her bare bottom, her forest of black pubic hair over her mound, her torso and her long legs - covered in soap. The teenager rinsed herself down, then gave her vagina an extra wash, always conscious about maintaining good feminine hygiene, especially when she was menstruating. 

Making sure the shower floor was clean, Kate turned off the water and stepped out onto the maroon bath-mat and took a maroon towel, both of which only came out for one week each month, to dry off. Kate always felt a little self-conscious about the towel and bath-mat, as it was practically an advertisement to her father and brothers that she was having her period, but it was better than her menstrual blood getting on lighter colored towels. And with Kate having a particularly heavy flow, this was inevitable.

Now dry, Kate took an overnight pad and attached it to the saddle of a clean pair of white, full-brief cotton panties and pulled them up, adjusting the napkin so it was comfortable and secure around her pussy. Putting on an oversize tee-shirt and her glasses, Kate turned off the bathroom light and walked on her bare feet back to her bedroom. She got into bed and turned off the lamp, removing her glasses as she did so.

Kate felt some discomfort from period cramps in her uterus, and winced and rubbed her stomach until the feeling went away. As her unusual, pure-green eyes became adjusted to the darkness of her room, she thought about what Davo and Travis, the back-packers from Down Under were up to at present in Philadelphia. Probably having more fun than her.

***

Davo and Travis at this moment were in a bar-restaurant in Philadelphia. "Come on, cheer up," the handsome, fit light-brown haired Davo was saying to the equally handsome red-haired Travis in his broad Australian accent. "It was a summer romance, and you'll get to see Kate again at least once more when we go out to visit them. So stop being a poof and enjoy yourself. Lots of girls in Philly, and at the back-packers what about those two Irish girls, Siobhan and Kelly? Two pretty hot redheads. Their knickers will be coming off, sooner than later, I promise you."

Travis shook his head, and spoke in his New Zealand accent. "Yeah, it's just that Kate was special, you know."

"Yeah, Madison was one hot chick to fuck but I'm never going to see her again and you don't see me moping about it, do you?" asked Davo. "Anyway, the holiday had to end. We had to go to Philadelphia to get that job doing mail-outs for the bank, Kate had to go back to her life. And then it's fruit-picking down south, with lots of hotties."

"I guess," said Travis, staring into his beer.

Davo looked around the bar, where a bachelorette party was in full swing. "You know what will get you back on track? Another girl. And this place is like a buffet tonight."

"Oh no Davo, not the bride," complained Travis, noticing his friend was looking at the pretty brunette who was at the center of attention, wearing a sash with 'Bride' over her dress.

"Oh course not the bride, you idiot," said Davo. "Mind you, her husband to be is a lucky cunt, being able to get into her knickers and fuck her fanny any time he likes."

A short distance behind the two guys was the ladies room. Neither Davo nor Travis paid much attention to the sound of two toilets flushing and taps running in the background, until the door opened and two female figures, one wearing a red dress and the other green, passed by, both discretely adjusting their panties through their dresses.

Davo looked eagerly at the two pretty girls, the petite one wearing the red dress having dark hair, dark eyes and a dark complexion, her facial features suggesting her origins possibly were Jewish, this confirmed by the pendant with the Star of David she wore around her neck. The second, taller girl in the green dress had blonde hair with big curls, fair-skinned with blue eyes and big round breasts and an equally round bottom, although the girl was not fat in any way. Davo took a quick glance at both young women's left hands; no wedding bands or engagement rings. The girls rejoined the rest of their friends at the bachelorette party, and Davo gave Travis the thumbs-up symbol.

The two guys slowly made their way over to the table where the girls sat, and Davo began his routine in his Australian accent. "G'day, how's it going?"

The two girls giggled. "You're Australian," said the Jewish girl.

"That's right, I'm David and I'm from Melbourne, but everyone calls me Davo," said Davo, shaking hands with the women. "This is Travis, he's from New Zealand, but don't hold that against him."

"Hi," said Travis.

Again, the two girls laughed and shook Travis's hand. "New Zealand," said the blonde girl, her accent showing her Canadian origin. "You have those kiwi birds there, right?"

Travis laughed and Davo said, "Yeah, they have kiwis, but mainly sheep. So many sheep."

Again, the two girls were amused, and made their own introductions.

"I'm Amy," said the brunette, twisting her dark hair in her fingers, clearly taken with Davo.

"And I'm Kim," said the blonde Canadian girl.

"You wouldn't be Canadian by any chance?" Davo asked Kim.

"That's right, I'm from Toronto originally," said Kim. 

"So near the lakes then?" asked Travis, taken with the pretty blonde. "It must have been cold in the winter time."

"Like you wouldn't believe," said Kim.

"So how do you know the bride?" Davo asked Amy.

"We were in high school together, and then college ..." Amy began.

Davo and Travis continued to talk to the two young women, who aged 23 were three years older than the two travelers. When the bachelorette party ended in the early hours, Davo and Travis were in the cab making out with Amy and Kim respectively, on the way back to the apartment the two girls shared.

The feisty little Amy dragged Davo into her bedroom, and slammed the door closed. Kicking off her shoes so she was barefoot, Amy sensually made out with Davo, her tongue deep in his mouth, before pulling him onto the duvet cover.

"Have you ever fucked a good Jewish girl before, Davo?" Amy asked teasingly.

"No," said Davo. Of his many conquests, not one of the girls to his knowledge had been Jewish.

"Well you're in for a treat," Amy promised, before unzipping his jeans, pulling down the front of his underpants and allowing his massive erection to spring free. Amy massaged his shaft and teased his balls with her fingers, before opening her legs, allowing Davo to see up her skirt and the white cotton panties that covered her crotch.

Then Amy stood over Davo's head, her dress hitched up and lowered her bottom down, sitting on his face with her panties still on, Davo able to smell her feminine scent on the cotton. Amy leaned forward and while she was short in stature and Davo tall, she was bendy enough to be able to reach his cock and suck him off, stopping only to pull her panties down to her thighs, Davo's eyes taking in the firm cheeks of Amy's bare bottom, her pubic hair at the front and between her legs the pink lips of her vagina.

With her panties around her thighs, Amy positioned her naked pussy over Davo's mouth as she resumed sucking his cock, his tongue teasing him as she did so. Davo wasted no time in sticking his tongue deep into Amy's tasty twat, loving the feel and taste of the girl's warm pussy juice in his mouth.

After five minutes of 69, Amy said, "Now for the main show." She removed her dress and bra, her firm B-cup breasts in full view, and took her panties off completely, lying back on the bed with her legs closed, her tits and triangle of dark pubic hair looking most inviting. Davo hastily undressed, and with his erection throbbing, Amy slid a condom onto his dick while he caressed her tits, making her pert nipples harder and harder.

Taking Amy's pretty bare feet in his hands, Davo opened her legs wide open, her moist pink pussy on display, sticky female juice running from her vulva down to her tight little anus. Getting on top of Amy, Davo pushed his penis deep into her vagina, Amy gasping in delight as he filled her hot snatch.

"Fuck you're big," said Amy, as she wrapped her legs around him and they began to get into rhythm, Davo grounding his cock hard into Amy's pussy, the girl writhing and squealing with each thrust, her toes clenching and unclenching. For over 15 minutes they held this position, before they came simultaneously, Davo feeling his cock explode into the condom, and Amy gasping as her orgasm spread from her clitoris into her vagina and bowels, Amy's pussy juice soaking both her own pubic hair as well as Davo's.

Gasping, they withdrew from each other and Amy asked breathlessly, "So, how was your first time with a Jewish girl?"

"Fucking great," said Davo, still regaining his breath. "Where's your synagogue, so I can sign up?"

Amy laughed as she removed Davo's condom. "You might have to have a little procedure first," she said as she fondled his foreskin in her fingers. "But the fun isn't over yet." Taking the condom, she poured the jizz out over her tits. "I love the taste," she said, as she held up her breasts in her hands, and licked off the semen. She then got on all fours, and spread her legs wide, her vagina and anus on full display. "I'm a bit sticky down under, and as you're Australian, would you care to help me out a bit with my problem?"

"Bloody hell, I thought you'd never ask," said Davo, putting his face into Amy's pussy and licking away the sticky and sweaty moisture from her vagina, before moving to the skin between her vulva and anus and finally Amy's anus itself, Davo's tongue circling the girl's tight opening to her rectum to which she gasped in pleasure, before finishing with Davo kissing the cheeks of Amy's bare bottom.

***

Things were no less passionate in the next room, where Travis and Kim made out for a full five minutes, Travis feeling the pretty blonde's bra and panties through her dress. When things stepped up, Kim whispered seductively, "You know how cold it gets in Canada? There's one thing that always stays hot up there. Our pussies."

With that Kim, guided Travis's hand up her dress and to the soft cotton of the white panties she was wearing, before pushing it under the saddle. Travis felt his cock throbbing as his fingers touched Kim's pubic hair, and felt the lips of her hot, wet sticky vagina. He pushed deeper into Kim's pussy, feeling how hot the interior was, Kim's face showing her delight as his fingers touched her clitoris.

"See, us Canadian girls have extra hot pussies," purred Kim. "Don't you agree?"

"Yeah, that is pretty hot," agreed Travis.

"And because we always need to find ways to keep warm on those cold Canadian nights, what better way than fucking?" asked Kim, guiding Travis's fingers, now warm and sticky with her pussy juice out of her box and her panties so she could undress.

Off came her shoes, leaving Kim barefoot, then she lifted off her dress to show off her white bra and panties. Travis undressed as Kim took off her bra, her big round breasts in view, her aroused nipples hard and excited. Then Kim pulled down and stepped out of her panties, a bushy triangle of blonde pubic hair covering her mound, the round cheeks of her bare bottom reflected in the mirror. As Kim bent over to pick her panties up from the carpet, her legs parted and Travis was afforded a view of Kim's pretty pink vagina, her tight anus marginally visible further back.

The naked Travis and Kim lay down on the bed, Kim running her bare feet up and down Travis's leg while teasing his penis and balls with a soft, sensual hand, and Travis stroked and caressed Kim's big breasts and the cheeks of her bare bottom. 

Changing position, they lay side by side, Kim opening her mouth to give fellatio, and opening her legs so Travis could put his head into her crotch. Travis loved feeling Kim's blonde pubic hair tickling his face, the soft feminine smell of her vagina and the taste as he licked her pussy.

After a few minutes of this, Kim put a condom onto Travis's cock, told him to lie flat on his back, then stood over his groin. "Now your Kiwi cock gets to explore my Canadian cunt," she promised. With that, Kim lowered her pussy down and slid Travis's cock deep into her vagina, moaning as he filled her, Travis feeling how hot the walls of Kim's box were, even through the condom.

Riding Travis in the cowgirl position, Kim jumped up and down, Travis thrusting his groin up as Kim reached to lowest point of trajectory, doubling the pleasure for both of them. Kim's pussy flowed with sticky juice that went over Travis's groin, her tits bouncing up and down.

Approaching orgasm, Kim whispered to Travis. "Let's get in close, so you can put your finger up my ass when we cum."

Travis's eyes went wide. "You want me to do that?"

"Yeah, I wouldn't have said it if I didn't want you too. I cum so much harder with something up my ass."




Trailer Trash Teen Hates Rules Ch. 02



INTRODUCTION & DISCLAIMER - In the second installment of this story series Breanna, a bitchy, bisexual, trashy, rude, kleptomaniac nymphomaniac has been sent to live with her aunt, uncle and cousins on the other side of town. 

You can take the girl out of the trailer park, but not the trailer park out of the girl proves correct in this sexual comedy, set in the early 1990s. Of her cousins, John pleases his girlfriend Samantha, Kate gets kinky and Dylan - well Dylan is Dylan.

This story contains very strong language and coarse humor, both sexual and non-sexual. All characters engaging in sexual activity are aged 18 and older, and all events and people depicted are fictional, with similarity to real people living or dead coincidental and unintentional.

Please enjoy Chapter 2, and look out for more chapters as they appear.

***

Breanna blinked awake on the Sunday morning feeling much the worse for wear. She massaged her head and looked at the door as footsteps approached, and Kate came back into her room from the bathroom, carrying a bathroom bag which she placed in her drawer. Kate was dressed smartly in a white blouse, a long blue floral skirt and open white shoes, her hair neatly brushed back from her pretty face. Breanna frowned. Kate looked like she was dressed for work; had Breanna slept through all of Sunday and it was now Monday morning? Seeing John pass by wearing a shirt and trousers, it seemed possible.

Breanna sat up on the mattress, her legs wide open showing her white panties, craving a cigarette. "Hey Kate, what day is it?"

Kate looked puzzled. "It's Sunday, of course."

"Why are you dressed like that?" Breanna asked.

"We're going to church," said Kate. "We always go to Mass on Sunday mornings."

Breanna sighed. "Have fun then."

"We're having breakfast first, come down and get something," said Kate. 

Smoking marijuana, and that fact that she had lost the contents of her stomach all over a police officer the previous night made Breanna hungry, so she decided to follow Kate downstairs to the kitchen. She did not bother to dress, simply walking downstairs barefoot in her tee-shirt that barely covered her panties, her cigarettes and lighter in her hand.

In the kitchen, everyone was dressed smartly for church. Bob, dressed in a suit, and Anna wearing a blue flowered dress, looked at their niece as she entered, looking in need of a shower, but they said nothing at this stage, and neither saw the cigarettes. John tried not to look at Breanna, trying to pretend she wasn't there. Dylan's eyes went wide at the sight of his cousin in her nightwear, the outline of her nipples visible through the fabric and her panties coming into view when Breanna stretched up on her bare toes for a second, yawning.

"How did you sleep, Breanna?" asked Anna, trying to be polite to their most unwelcome house guest.

"That mattress is shit," said Breanna rudely. "Don't you have anything better for me to sleep on?"

"Okay, I thought it might have taken a while longer before you were rude," said Anna sternly. "Let me be very clear that swearing is not tolerated in this house, young lady."

With a roll of her eyes, Breanna took her cigarettes and lighter and swung her bare feet onto the table, leaning back in her chair. Dylan could barely contain his delight at his beautiful cousin's bare feet on the table, and he salivated at the sight of Breanna's pretty soles and toes.

John and Kate glanced at each other, each wishing they weren't there. Breanna's actions weren't intended to impress her aunt and uncle, and a reaction was quick in coming.

"Breanna, get your feet off the table and there is no smoking in this house," said Bob.

Breanna shrugged her shoulders arrogantly, and lifted her ankles so her feet were hovering an inch above the table cloth. She took her lighter, and went to light her first cigarette of the day.

Bob and Anna jumped up. Anna pushed Breanna's bare feet off the table, while Bob grabbed Breanna's cigarettes and lighter and threw them onto the kitchen bench.

"When you live in this house, you live by our rules," said Anna sternly. "There is no smoking at all in the house. Is that clear?"

"Where do I go for a smoke then?" demanded Breanna. "I'm really busting."

"If you must smoke, then you will smoke outside," said Bob. "But not now. You will sit here and have breakfast with us, and then you will get ready for church."

"I'm not going to fucking church," said Breanna.

"Breanna!" snapped her aunt.

"Perhaps you didn't understand your aunt when she said that you live by our rules in this house," said Bob. "Everyone who lives in this house goes to Mass on Sunday morning. And that is the end of this discussion, young lady."

Breanna opened her mouth to answer back, but a better idea entered her mind. She could have fun at church, embarrassing her aunt and uncle as much as possible. Instead she said, "Okay then, I guess I have to go to church."

"You guess right," said Anna.

Breanna took a piece of toast, began eating it from the center to avoid the crusts, and watched as her aunt poured milk from a carton into her coffee. "Do you buy milk from the store, Aunt Anna?"

Anna regarded her niece with a puzzled expression. "Yes, of course. Why do you ask?"

Breanna pointed at Kate's E-cup breasts. "I thought you would just hook Kate up to a milking machine, and get all the milk you need for a week."

Dylan, who was taking a mouthful of cereal, burst out laughing, choking as he had a mouthful of food, cereal and milk spraying everywhere, mostly over John's plate to his older brother's disgust and anger.

Kate flushed bright red and trembled with humiliation. She was used to tit jokes, such as comments that she could never drown, that the Twin Towers were in New York City, or that she was a young woman with big things in front of her, but didn't find them funny.

"Breanna that is enough!" snapped Bob. "Apologize to Kate."

"Kate, I'm sorry you don't have a sense of humor and were offended so easily," said Breanna. "What's the matter, is it your time of the month or something?"

Kate fumed and shifted awkwardly, Breanna picking up on that right away. "It is, isn't it? You do have your period, don't you?" She looked at John and Dylan. "Be careful, don't go pissing off your sister while she's surfing the crimson tide."

"Breanna, enough!" yelled Anna. "Apologize properly."

"Sorry," sneered Breanna, to which Kate sighed and looked away, like John having completely lost her appetite.

Breanna grabbed another piece of toast and leaned back in her chair, her legs wide open to show her white panties. Dylan again nearly choked as he could see the indentation of his cousin's vagina in her panty crotch, and hoped he would not have to stand up.

"Breanna, do not sit like that!" snapped Anna, as Bob pushed his hand against his forehead, pondering how much he could take of this girl.

Breanna obeyed her aunt's direction with a deep sigh, then looked over at where the family pets - two dogs, one black and one brown, and two cats, one with ginger fur and the other black and white - watched the humans, curious about this newcomer. Not wanting to eat the crusts, Breanna held them out to the pets. The cats were not interested, but the less fussy dogs bounded right over, taking them from her hand and devouring them.

"We do not feed the dogs or the cats from the table, Breanna," said Bob sternly.

Breanna shrugged her shoulders. "So don't feed the dogs or cats from the table, I don't give a fuck."

Bob fumed. "I think that's breakfast done with." He addressed Breanna directly. "You, do not ever use that word in this house. Now get upstairs and take a shower before church."

Breanna got to her feet. "Do you want to come in there with me and supervise me, Uncle Bob? You know, to make sure I've washed my vagina properly and rinsed all the soap off my tits and my ass?"

"Breanna, will you shut up and stop it right now?" yelled Anna. "Get upstairs this instant!"

With another huge sigh and a roll of her eyes, Breanna walked upstairs, Dylan discretely positioning himself so he could observe Breanna's bare feet, shapely legs and white panties up her tee-shirt, all the while thinking about Breanna talking about her vagina at the breakfast table.

John and Kate cleared the breakfast dishes. "I don't know what we did to deserve this," said John. "First Madison goes camping with us, then Breanna is sent to live with us for a few weeks."

Kate shook her head as she put dishwashing detergent into the sink. "We must have done something, maybe in a past life." She smiled at her brother. "Still, you have something to look forward to. Samantha's back today."

"Yeah, that's the only thing keeping me sane," said John.

In the upstairs bathroom, Breanna removed her tee-shirt and pulled down her panties, throwing both items of clothing onto the floor. She stepped her nubile figure into the shower and ran the water, washing first her vagina, then between the cheeks of her bare bottom including around her anus and finally gave the rest of her body a quick wash, before stepping out onto the bathmat and drying with a towel which she tossed onto the floor with her panties and shirt. After a quick brush of her teeth, the teenager spilling toothpaste onto the sink and not bothering to clean it up, Breanna exited the bathroom and walked completely naked into Kate's bedroom.

Kate had just returned from downstairs to get her purse for church, and her mouth dropped open as her cousin stepped into the bedroom in a state of complete nudity. "You didn't walk down the hallway like that, did you?" Kate asked.

"No, I flew," said Breanna, as she retrieved another pair of white bikini panties from her bag and pulled them up, adjusting them around her bottom and pussy.

"Mom wouldn't be happy about that," said Kate.

"Yeah, well your mom isn't going to find out, is she?" asked Breanna, as the girl put on and fastened her bra.

Anna had just come upstairs and glanced into the bathroom, sighing when she saw her niece's shirt, panties and towel abandoned on the floor. Anna hung up the towel, and collected Breanna's sleepwear, noticing the toothpaste at the same time.

The unimpressed Anna walked into Kate's bedroom, where Breanna had just put on a lemon-colored blouse and a matching short skirt that she and Isabella had stolen from a charity donation bin. The clothes had definitely seen better days, and the skirt was way too short for Breanna.

"Breanna, do not leave your clothes on the floor in the bathroom, and hang up towels after you use them," said Anna. She looked at the clothes her niece was wearing. "Your clothes really aren't suitable for church."

"I'm from a trailer park, we don't have the money to spend on fancy clothes," spat Breanna defensively, as she slipped her feet into a pair of sandals that were little more than fancy flip-flops. That Breanna had paid nothing for the said clothes, obtaining them by breaking into the donation bin and ransacking it while Isabella stood watch and costing the charity money in the process did not occur to her.

Anna regarded her niece with an even expression, but let the issue with Breanna's clothes ride. "You don't speak to me in that tone. Make sure you are downstairs within five minutes." Anna turned and left the room.

"Jesus, what is your mother's fucking problem?" Breanna demanded of Kate. The big-boned brunette said nothing in response, just looked at the ceiling through her glasses. "Not saying anything? Has the cat got your tongue?" Breanna turned to leave and then said to Kate, "You know Kate if you don't want everyone to know that you're on your period you shouldn't leave those lying around."

Breanna pointed at Kate's bedside table, where a packet of maxi pads and period pain tablets sat, with Kate having forgotten to put them away earlier, the blonde laughing on her way out as Kate frantically returned them to the drawer.

Outside, Dylan's limited attention span was fully engaged with the Polish family next door, or to be more precise, 18-year-old daughter Andrea as they got ready for church. Breanna, who desperate for a cigarette lit one up and deeply inhaled smoke into her lungs, pondered to herself what Dylan was doing, hiding behind the back of the van, looking at the neighboring house until Andrea appeared in her line of sight and she knew.

"What a pervert," Breanna thought of her cousin, but observing the beautiful young blonde for herself, her mouth watered and in her panties her vagina tingled and dampened. She and Isabella could do some amazing things with this young Eastern European beauty, pulling down her panties and Breanna eating out the girl's pussy while Isabella went down on her ass, then changing positions, Breanna licking Andrea's anus until she came in their faces. 

Taking another deep drag on her cigarette, Breanna pondered what Isabella's punishment would be. Isabella's mother Maria was pretty hopeless really and the mother's boyfriend Carlos was a fucking dickhead, so they would do little if anything. But if Connie, Isabella's maternal grandmother found out about what happened the previous night, there would be hell to pay. When Isabella's brother Richie was sent to jail for stealing cars, he and his stupid friends ensuring a guilty verdict by posing for photographs with all the cars they had stolen, Connie had gone through the family like a tornado. 

Andrea climbed into the back of her parents' car, her amazingly tall younger brother beside her, and their parents climbed into the front, her father driving away. 

Bob and Anna emerged from the house with John, and everyone got into the van, Breanna feeling one of Kate's big breasts pressed up against her arm. Dylan sat opposite Breanna facing the back, hoping she would allow her knees to drift open so he could see her panties. Bob reversed out of the driveway, and drove towards town. Breanna noticed many other cars filled with occupants in their Sunday best heading for church, and again cursed her luck at ending up with these boring losers and their stupid church rule. But this could be fun, if Breanna played her cards right.

Driving to a stop sign, Bob pulled the van to a halt behind a waiting car, occupied by three old ladies. The car did not move despite the only approaching vehicle being a long distance away.

"Are they going or what?" Breanna demanded, looking at the car that remained stationary.

"Breanna, that's Mrs. O'Connor driving. She's 88-years-old and her reaction times aren't good," said Bob. "We just have to be patient."

"Fuck that, I'll get them moving," said Breanna, leaping out of her seat before anybody could stop her, reaching over Bob's shoulder and pressing down on the horn, while yelling, "Fucking go!" out of the window.

Mrs. O'Connor jumped in shock and in a panic the old lady pressed her foot down hard on the gas. Unfortunately, the approaching car was now very close and had to make an emergency stop, with squealing tires and a blast of the horn, skidding to a halt and missing a collision by inches. The fat man driving yelled abuse at both Mrs. O'Connor and at Bob, before accelerating away waving his fist.

"Don't ever do that again, Breanna!" bellowed Bob, his face red with rage. "Get back in your seat right now!"

"You should have sounded the horn at them, the stupid old bag shouldn't be on the road," said Breanna, taking her seat again, debating the issue with her uncle all the way to church. On the road in front of them, the nervous elderly Mrs. O'Connor drove at ten miles per hour, casting black glances at Bob out of her rear view mirror.

Arriving at church, Bob parked the van and everyone was relieved to step out, Bob taking deep breaths. Most parishioners were standing around outside talking, and Bob and Anna went to talk to her parents, who were with some of their friends a short distance away, while Breanna lit up another cigarette.

John walked away from the van, counting down the hours until he saw Samantha again, and hoping that Breanna would run away back to the trailer park where she belonged. The young man was so deep in thought that he jumped when he felt a hand touch him on the back. John spun around and his face filled with delight at the person who stood there; the slim figure of Samantha, pretty as a picture in a green summer dress and white sandals that displayed her feet, the morning sunlight reflecting from her long strawberry blonde hair, her smile and sparkling blue eyes making her even more beautiful.

The young couple threw their arms around each other in a tight embrace and kissed on the lips; a kiss that was sensual enough to excite both of them, but polite and discrete enough for public. "When did you get back?" John asked Samantha. "I thought you weren't returning until this afternoon."

"My plane got in early, and I was in time to catch the last bus from Philadelphia," said Samantha. "I wanted to surprise you."

"That is a good surprise," said John. He saw Samantha's parents, Ted and Patricia Williams standing a short way. Both were aged in their late 40s, Mr. Williams balding with a moustache and Mrs. Williams having graying bobbed hair. John greeted them politely. They were with Samantha's 18-year-old brother Chris whose dark hair contrasted with the hair color of his older sister. The young man was looking at a notebook he carried with him, along with a packet of crayons. Chris's autism meant he never spoke, and spent his day drawing rainbows. John and Samantha both embraced again. "So how was Florida and how are your grandparents?"

"Both really good," said Samantha, as she and John held hands and again kissed. A mischievous smile came over Samantha's pretty face. "So, did Madison drive everyone crazy on your camping trip? You have to tell me all the details."

Before John could reply, the loud voice of Breanna carried across the car park. "Hey John, why don't you and your girlfriend get a room? You're making everyone uncomfortable making out like that."

Samantha went rigid and she looked in dismay at Breanna, who sat on the rear bumper of the van, smoking yet another cigarette, legs wide open showing off her undies to anyone who happened to be passing by.

"Breanna, shut up," came the warning voice of Anna.

"What is Breanna doing here?" Samantha asked in a low voice.

"It's kind of a long story," said John. "She got sent to live with us for a few weeks after she got arrested at a rave last night."

Samantha's eyes went wide and she shook her head. "Arrested?"

"Yes, for being drunk and throwing up over a cop," said John. "My Uncle Wyatt and Aunt Rosanne lost patience with her." Samantha rolled her eyes and shook her head, not really surprised from what she knew of Breanna.

Kate was talking with some friends a short distance away. These were Andrea from next door, her other friends Sonia and Penny, who were African-American and Asian respectively, and her cousin Holly. All of the girls were attending church with their parents and siblings.

Dylan's interest was squarely on Holly and she and Kate's friends now. He admired pretty brunette Holly's slim figure with the big breasts that ran in the family, and lamented that now high school was finished, he would no longer see her and Andrea in their cheerleader uniforms. His eyes also took in the beautiful dark skin of tall African-America Sonia, from her long silky black hair down to her feet, her toes visible in the shoes she wore; and pretty petite Asian Penny, cute as ever with her glasses and her long black hair in a pony-tail.

Missing were two of Kate's other very pretty friends; red-haired Bridget and Italian-American Katrina, who were working the summer as camp counsellors. However Dylan, close enough to hear what they were talking about, still found plenty to turn him on, when it was discussed that part of the camp was a three day trek with no toilet facilities, so Bridget and Katrina would have to take rolls of toilet paper into the woods and squat when nature called. The mental images of the two girls squatting in the woods holding rolls of toilet paper, displaying their pussies and bare bottoms as they peed and emptied their bowels, their jeans or shorts and their panties around their ankles, were pleasurable indeed to Dylan, and he resolved to use this fantasy next time he was alone to enjoy himself.




Trailer Trash Teen Hates Rules Ch. 02



"How about Madison joining them on the trek?" Holly asked jokingly.

Kate laughed. "I don't think that would work out. Madison couldn't even handle the toilet facilities at the camping ground we stayed at, and they were proper flushing toilets."

"Speaking of cousins, I really don't like to ask but what is Breanna doing here?" enquired Holly, like the others dismayed by Kate's trashy cousin putting in an appearance, at the same time relieved that she was not directly related to Breanna.

Kate sighed and shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know the full story, but she got caught at an illegal rave, got arrested when she vomited over a police officer and my aunt and uncle finally got sick of her and sent her to live with us for a while."

"Yes, I hear car pull up at your place in early morning," said Andrea, her European accent prominent. "I hear her arguing with her parents. She is very noisy."

"Sorry if she woke you," said Kate. "Noisy is the least of the problems with her. I'll never complain about Madison again."

Breanna, having finished her latest cigarette, threw the butt onto the ground and looked over at where Kate was standing with Holly and the other girls, and watched as Sonia's older brother Sean, a tall, handsome young African-American man who attended college walked over to join the girls. Breanna looked at the brother and sister with great interest, her mouth and vagina moistening as she imagined taking Sean's big dick up her pussy, then going 69 with Sonia, her tongue working the black exterior of Sonia's vagina and anus, then going into the bright pink interiors of both openings.

To Breanna's amazement, Sean put his arm around Penny and she moved in close to him, the Asian girl and the black guy holding hands. "Are they going out?" Breanna asked Dylan.

Dylan nodded in affirmation. "Yes, for a while now."

"Fuck, I don't think I've ever seen a black guy and an Asian girl together before," said Breanna, pondering how the tight interior of petite Penny's box could take the cock of a big, muscular black guy more than a foot taller than her. She would love to be a fly on the wall when they had sex to see for herself; that was for sure.

Dylan and Breanna walked towards where the girls were talking with Sean. "So, how is your summer job?" Andrea enquired.

"It's a job," said Sean. "Going around for that cleaning company, collecting sanitary bins and replacing them, not the most exciting thing but I need the money, so I can't complain about it."

Sean's job would have been Utopia to Dylan; driving around, going into female toilets all day, but wisely he did not express this envy as the people attending church began to slowly move inside for the Mass. The church was a modern one, featuring a large reception area, several rooms to one side and the church itself to the other. As Kate, Holly and their friends entered the main reception area, there came an overly-enthusiastic, young female voice. "Hi girls, wait up a minute for us!"

Kate, Holly and friends all stopped and exchanged discrete eye rolls, before turning to face the newcomer, or to be precise the two newcomers. The speaker was a slim and very pretty red-haired girl, wearing a green blouse that accentuated her shapely breasts, a short green tartan skirt that came down to just above her knees and open white shoes that displayed her feet, with her long straight hair held back in place by a green head-band. She tightly held the hand of a slim, blonde young man the same age dressed in a smart white shirt, black trousers a tie and shoes, and was practically pulling him along behind her.

"Who is that?" Breanna asked Dylan.

"Megan Delaney," said Dylan. "Kate and I went to school with her. She's really annoying; a teacher's pet and one of those liberal, left wing do-gooders. Her boyfriend is called Paul."

Dylan's words, while without doubt unkind, were all too true. The father of 18-year-old Megan was a lawyer and her mother ran the charity shop in town, with both civil libertarians who were involved in many human rights groups. Megan's older brother was at medical school and aspired to working in a third world country for a time when he graduated, something Megan frequently mentioned to anybody who was listening.

At school Megan never failed to live up to the teacher's pet stereotype and never failed to talk at length about the human rights and civil libertarian causes she and her family supported, and the girl certainly had plenty of activities to fill out her college application. However, while Megan always promoted her liberal views, she had no tolerance for hearing opinions that did not match her left wing view of the world, and would spend a great deal of time trying to convince the other person that they were wrong.

The girls who stood with Kate watched her approach, each recalling encounters with Megan at school. Holly remembered her lobbying the principal and PTA to have the word 'Christmas' replaced with 'Holiday' for all activities leading up to the festive season so it would not offend those who did not celebrate Christmas. 

Kate recalled a math class where the teacher was using professional sports tables as part of a statistical analysis, when Megan requested that the teams which used emblems that referred to Native Americans be referred to only by the names of their cities, so as not to cause offense. It had been the same with the school's football team, which used the name of "The Whites" due to the mostly white uniforms it wore, and the prancing white horse on the logo. Of course, Megan and her left-wing liberal friends took issue that it might be offensive to non-Caucasians, and were successful in having the name changed to "The Power", which nobody apart from them seemed to warm to. 

Andrea remembered how Megan had tried to convince her to enroll in a group who had problems with reading and writing to improve her English, despite the fact that Andrea already learned to speak English in her native Poland. Penny remembered Megan seeking her support to make changes to the school canteen food to promote foods from other cultures. Most significant was Sonia's experience, with both she and Megan joining a group that promoted sport participation at the local elementary school, the students organizing games such as soccer and acting as referees. Megan had heavily promoted her ideas of not keeping score in the games and everyone being awarded for participation rather than performance to the elementary school board, who adopted them leaving Megan very happy, but the kids, parents and teachers very confused.

"Hi Megan, how are you?" Kate asked, maintaining politeness.

"My boyfriend Paul and I are really great, aren't we Paul?" she asked the young man she held hands with. Without waiting for Paul to say anything, Megan continued, "We are having about the best summer ever." 

The other girls sighed. This was another of Megan's irritating habits, the way she always referred to Paul as her boyfriend, despite the fact that they had all attended high school together and already knew this. It was realistic that Megan had a boyfriend; after all she was very pretty and had a good body, but how did Paul put up with her personality? Even if Paul put looks first every time, surely Megan must get on his nerves at times. Was she great at sex, perhaps?

Kate and her friends did not speculate much on Megan and Paul's sex life, as it was of no interest to them. It was of interest to Dylan, as he was a pervert who frequently fantasized about other people having sex and more than once had taken opportunities to look up Megan's skirt as she walked upstairs, enjoying his views of her legs and panties. Dylan's vivid fantasies of Megan having sex with her boyfriend were a long way from the truth. Megan and Paul had never had sex, with the most intimate activity between them making out and Paul fondling Megan's breasts through her sweater, shirt and bra. The only times Megan pulled down her panties was when she was getting undressed or needed to sit on the toilet. Only two objects had ever been inside Megan's vagina; tampons during her periods and gyroscopes in appointments with her gynecologist, and her anus was strictly an exit, never an entrance. Megan was determined that her virginal vagina would remain this way until her wedding night.

"So, what have you and Paul been doing this summer?" asked Kate, again just to be polite.

"I'm working at Mom's charity store, and Paul is working with his dad," said Megan. "But last week we went to Philadelphia, to help campaign for justice for Karl Smith to prevent his execution. I just cry when I think of the human rights violations suffered by those poor people on death row."

The girls exchanged disbelieving looks. Karl Smith, nicknamed 'Killer Cowboy Karl', was a dangerous serial killer and his arrest in 1992 and 1993 trial a big deal case. If there was a good argument for capital punishment, this evil and callous murderer provided it. "Killer Cowboy Karl?" asked Holly. "He's a serial killer. He would dress up like a cowboy, stalk his victims on hiking trails and shoot them dead in cold blood. He even used to send letters to families of his victims, boasting about his crimes."

"Yes, but he still has rights and it is very important that they be upheld," Megan pointed out. "Harsh punishments never work, and until the death penalty is completely abolished there will never be proper justice in the world. The focus must be on rehabilitating people who commit crimes."

Holly could be a little more temperamental than the others, and this showed now. "Rehabilitation? He killed sixteen innocent people, kept scrapbooks with newspaper clippings and videos of news reports about his murders and the only reason he got caught was because he threw his own mother down a flight of stairs after an argument over mowing the lawn and a neighbor called the cops who found the evidence in the basement. He's an evil psychopath and the world will be a better place when he's put to death. How about thinking about his victims and their families, rather than the Killer Cowboy?"

"There would be far less victims of crime if the justice system helped young offenders rather than punishing them and causing them to commit more serious crimes later," said Megan.

Breanna could see Holly fuming, and mentally was chanting for what would have been inevitable at her high school; a fight between the two girls. To Breanna's disappointment, Holly's boyfriend Jeff arrived to distract her, and her big boobs wobbling up and down, the enthusiastic Holly threw her arms around him and they kissed on the lips, Megan forgotten. 

Dylan had also been thinking about how a fight between two girls would be great, especially in church but knew this was unrealistic. He observed Holly and Jeff kissing, fantasizing about his cousin getting screwed by her boyfriend and thought back to the times he had gone through Holly's dirty clothes hamper, smelling the feminine scent left on her panties.

Megan had not forgotten about Kate and the others, and turned to them, full of enthusiasm. "So are you all looking forward to college in the fall? My boyfriend Paul and I are. How great is it that we're all going to be going to the same college? Hopefully we'll be in the same dorm, and then it will be just like high school."

The other girls faked enthusiasm, but each wished that Megan was attending another college, and that she departed their lives at high school, not seeing her again until 2004 and the 10-year reunion of the class of 1994, where Megan no doubt would be some human rights lawyer supporting the rights of criminals over their victims.

"Don't forget girls, it's the Christian music concert next Saturday, so be there or be square," said Megan, her misguided attempt at humor falling flat.

Megan then noticed Samantha's brother Chris standing near his parents and finally letting go of her boyfriend's hand, dashed over with great enthusiasm, met with Chris's usual vacant stare. "So how's Chris today? Has he got a hug for Miss Megan? Of course he does!" Megan threw her arms around the young man, oblivious to his alarmed facial expression and rigid body.

One of Megan's mother's initiatives was a club for people with intellectual disabilities, doing activities and going on outings on some Saturday afternoons, and of course Megan was only too keen to help out and add more to her college application. Nearby, Samantha and John stood together, Samantha with a frustrated look on her face which only intensified when Megan ruffled Chris's hair. "Miss Megan is going to miss seeing you so much when she goes to college, but don't worry she'll be coming back most weekends to take him on outings." 

"Megan, you know Chris hates physical contact don't you, and do you know how stupid you sound when you talk about yourself in the third person like that?" Samantha said to John in a low voice. She could understand why her parents would enroll Chris in the club; they needed a break from him from time to time and she did not blame them for this. 

Samantha however knew it was an utter waste of time, and that Chris hated every minute of the activities and outings. All Chris wanted to do was draw rainbows in notebooks in his own private world. He had close to no concept of other people and their thoughts or feelings. Just a few weeks ago, Samantha returned with Chris having done the grocery shopping. Chris watched her unload the bags from her car and struggle to the front door carrying them, before fumbling with her keys to open it. At no time did he offer any assistance to his older sister despite her request for him to do so, and when she opened the door, pushed in front of her to get inside. This wasn't Chris's fault any more than it was his fault that he had dark hair; he was simply born that way and could not help it.

"Miss Megan needs to go back and spend some time with her boyfriend Paul, otherwise he might get jealous," Megan was saying to the indifferent Chris in her patronizing tone. "But Miss Megan will come back to see her other favorite guy right after church." With that, Megan gave the dismayed Chris a kiss on the cheek and headed back to her boyfriend, grabbing Paul's hand and pulling him over to her parents.

"She is so annoying," said Samantha to Kate, as she joined their group while Mr. and Mrs. Williams spoke with Bob and Anna, and the silent Chris nervously watched Megan, who led her boyfriend over to speak to one of her teachers from high school, gushing and fawning over the said teacher and his wife. Chris stood hoping that the dreaded 'Miss Megan' would not approach him again.

"Yeah, Megan was in most of my classes at school," said Kate. "I have never met such a teacher's pet, and she's so um, what's that new expression they use now?"

"Irritating?" joked John, getting a laugh from the others, but it was Samantha who came up with the right answer.

"Politically correct," said the pretty strawberry blonde.

"Yes, that's it," said Kate. "Politically correct."

"I wish she'd go and be politically correct somewhere else," said Holly.

"Yeah, I'll never forget the day when Megan tried to convince me that I should be offended by the lack of Asian food on the school cafeteria menu," said Penny. "I wasn't offended by the lack of Asian food at the café at all, but I was by what Megan said. Who does she think she is?"

"One time she try to get me to do special English class that is for illiterate people," said Andrea. "I learn to speak English in Poland, before we move here."

Breanna thought about how long Megan would have lasted at her high school; five minutes if she was lucky before Breanna and her friends stuck her head in a toilet bowl and flushed it. Thinking about toilets, Breanna felt the call of nature and wondered where the ladies' room was. She was about to ask Kate, but then saw the priest, Father Fisher, talking with Bob, Anna and Samantha's parents and a better idea crossed her mind.

"Hey Father," she called out across the room, the gray haired, bespectacled priest looking across at her. "I need to sit on a toilet and void my bodily wastes, is there a place here that women can do that?"

With an awkward embarrassed silence from his parishioners within earshot, the priest looked at Breanna, pondering where she seemed familiar from, and then he remembered. He had not seen her for more than a decade, but could never forget that terribly behaved little girl from the classes held for kids studying for their First Holy Communion. This had been a misguided attempt by Rosanne to compete with hers, and have her kids undertake their First Holy Communion along with their cousins Kate and Dylan. With Dustin it was never going to happen such was his opposition to the plan, but Rosanne was determined to make it succeed with Breanna and see her daughter in a white dress like Kate so persisted. Unfortunately Breanna's behavior was so bad and disruptive that she was removed from the class, and it was suggested that she never return, ever.

"You will find the ladies' room along that corridor to the right," said Father Fisher sternly, horrified that the girl, now an adult, was in his church and again being disruptive, and his eyes looked towards Bob for some sort of explanation.

"Breanna," hissed Anna angrily, approaching her niece. "You say you need to go to the bathroom, never what you just said."

"Well, I'm not going to take a bath am I?" smirked Breanna. "That would be lying, and lying is a sin, especially in a church. Now can you excuse me please?"

With a smug expression, pleased that she had caused such embarrassment, Breanna headed for the ladies' room, along with Holly, Andrea and Sonia, who obviously had not caused such a scene when nature called. In the distance, Breanna overheard her uncle say, "We're sorry about that Father ..." and she laughed, before she moved out of earshot and walked through the door with the female figure on the door, the other girls behind her. Dylan watched them, thinking how cool it would be if he had the power to become invisible and go into the ladies' room and watch his two hot cousins and the European and African-American beauties as they sat on the toilets with their panties around their ankles.

The ladies room contained four toilet cubicles, and each girl selected one, closing and locking the doors behind them. In unison, the four girls lifted their skirts, pulled down their panties to their ankles and sat down on the toilets, the sound of all four urinating filling the bathroom. With all wearing open shoes, their feet and lowered panties were visible under the doors.

When each teenager had finished peeing, she took a length of toilet paper and dried her vagina; blondes Breanna and Andrea each having a pink, oval shaped vagina with an abundance of blonde pubic hair; African-American Sonia black pussy lips with bright pink interior among the black curls that covered her mound and pussy, and Caucasian brunette Holly's pussy dark pink, with a triangle of luxurious dark pubic hair.

The girls all remained seated on their respective toilets to empty their bowels, each unwinding and using toilet paper as she needed it. Breanna, using the stall next to Andrea, heard the pretty Polish girl pooing then unwinding toilet paper and applying it to her anus and smiled, thinking about Dylan's none-too-subtle voyeurism of the blonde that morning. "Hey Dylan, Little Miss Perfect Next Door does poo, and she uses toilet paper to wipe her ass," thought Breanna. "Sorry to shatter the illusion."

Breanna looked down at her own lowered panties and thought to herself how hot these girls were, and leaned forward on the toilet she was sitting on to glance under the cubicle partition to her right. Her eyes took in first Andrea's white bikini panties with blue flowers. Next along was Sonia, wearing pink full-brief panties and at the end Holly wore orange panties, like Breanna and Andrea bikini-style. Breanna felt her vagina tingling and moistening, and when she wiped had to apply her toilet paper to her pussy first before moving it back to wipe her anus as she finished on the toilet. Breanna stood up, pulled up her panties and flushed, washing her hands before exiting the bathroom, the other girls still on the toilet.




Trailer Trash Teen Hates Rules Ch. 02



The hallway outside the ladies' room was quiet, nobody else was around. Breanna was about to head to the church itself, when her eyes picked up an interesting object; a brown box. While a box for the most part is hardly interesting, to Breanna the inscription 'To Assist the Poor, Sick and Disadvantaged in Our Community' caught her attention. 

Again ensuring that she was alone, Breanna's nimble fingers opened the donation box and she looked inside. Many donations were coins; however there was no shortage of notes; ones, tens and twenties. With a quick glance, Breanna's hand was in the box, and the notes were extricated. The teenager left just one note behind, a rarely seen two dollar bill with Breanna having heard that these were unlucky, the girl giggling at the irony. The other notes quickly found themselves in their new temporary home; Breanna's panties as the teenager walked towards the church, bracing herself for the boring sermon.

In the ladies room, Sonia, Holly and Andrea were still using the toilets, unaware of the theft that had taken place outside. Both Sonia and Holly finished at the same moment, the girls wiping themselves clean before standing up, pulling up and adjusting their panties around their bottoms and pussies, then flushing the toilets and washing their hands. Andrea was last to finish, the pretty blonde unwinding toilet paper three times in a row to complete wiping herself clean, before she also stood up and flushed the toilet, then pulled up and adjusted her panties around her vagina and bottom and exited the cubicle, washing her hands before leaving the smelly female bathroom and going with her friends to the Mass.

Breanna struggled to stay awake during church, and her interest only picked up when the collection plates began to circulate. When the elderly usher reached her row, Breanna reached into her purse and took out a dollar bill, glancing to see the contents of the plate, the teenager keeping a poker face when she saw a fifty dollar note, which unknown to Breanna, was placed there by Megan Delaney's father. With a deft hand that could have earned her a living as a magician, Breanna placed her dollar into the collection plate, her fingers extricating the fifty at the same time and clasping it in her hand, then slipping it into the cup of her bra with nobody seeing anything. Breanna smiled, feeling the bills in her panties brushing against her pubic hair, and the fifty stashed in her bra rubbing against her left boob. Maybe church wasn't so bad after all? 

*

Despite the warm and sunny Sunday afternoon, Bob Wilson spent the last day of his summer vacation in a very bad mood as he cleaned out his van. The source of his bad mood was not his wife Anna who at this moment was tending to the roses, nor his son John or daughter Kate, but his younger son Dylan and niece Breanna. Bob listened to the news on the van's radio, where President Clinton was speaking at a press conference. Bob pondered if the President put up with the same insanity in the White House as he had endured so far this summer.

Vacuuming the van, Bob contemplated the family members who pleased him, hoping it would make him feel better. His wife Anna was a wonderful woman and his marriage couldn't be better. They were there for each other always.

When he thought of his son John, who at this stage had gone out for the afternoon with Samantha, Bob was always filled with pride. John had recently been promoted to a sales representative at his job, and had always been so responsible and had a wonderful girlfriend in Samantha, evidenced by them saving together to buy a house. Bob and Anna often reflected on how John helped Samantha through the ordeal of being sick with cancer when they were kids and had assisted out her parents with things such as mowing the lawn, keeping the garden and running errands, both parents under terrible strain with a desperately ill daughter and an autistic son with major intellectual disabilities. 

John's protective nature also came to the fore during this time, Bob and Anna finding it impossible to be angry with their son when called to a conference in the principal's office after John took on and fought three boys from another school during a class excursion to a Philadelphia museum. The boys had taunted the frail Samantha, who wore a baseball cap to cover her head and a surgical mask to protect her in flu season calling her a 'freak' and then a 'cry baby' when the hapless girl, already feeling unwell from the long bus trip, dissolved into tears. After John finished with them, they wouldn't repeat that mistake in a hurry.

Bob also thought about how brave Samantha had been through her cancer treatments, the girl showing amazing resilience, attending school whenever possible with John and her female friends helping her with her schoolwork when she was at home and too sick to go to school. Now, Samantha had beaten her illness and blossomed into a beautiful, wonderful young woman whom Bob and Anna had always loved as if she was their own daughter, and were certain Samantha would become their daughter and mother to their first grandchildren. 

Kate was also a major source of pride to Bob, his beautiful, intelligent, polite and responsible daughter starting college in the fall to become a teacher, showing great commitment to earn her a partial field hockey scholarship and having wonderful friends. She had no boyfriend at this stage, but Bob and Anna were sure she would meet a great guy in college. Kate, like John, had gone out for the afternoon for a drive, taking her mother's old car that she and Dylan shared.

Bob's mood turned dark again when he thought about his slacker son Dylan, who at times reminded him of his own brother Wyatt, although at least Dylan had a job. Dylan was now talking in the front yard with the two absolute losers he was friends with. The two boys, 18-year-old Kenny and Wayne. Both of these two morons wore black heavy metal tee-shirts and jeans, Kenny's reddish-brown hair styled in a mullet, Wayne's untidy dark hair having no discernable style. When Dylan was with them, he was more difficult to control than usual, and it was no different this afternoon. Wayne and Kenny were among the worst kids in school, although had they attended the terrible high school that Breanna, Dustin, Isabella and Rocky went to on the other side of town, they would have been the equivalent of the good school's resident teacher's pet and liberal do-gooder Megan Delaney.

Bob shook his head and muttered under his breath when he saw that the two cretins were distracted by the slim figure of Breanna, who had changed into a revealing top that showed off much of her bra and breasts, and an ultra-short mini-skirt. The teenager was lying in a chair in the sun, flaunting herself by lifting up her legs to flex and un-flex her bare feet, spreading her legs apart to display her white panties, all the while smoking one cigarette after another. 

Breanna had already gotten her uncle off-side after returning from church. When the couch containing a fold-out bed in the first floor den, which doubled as a home office and sewing room was set up for Breanna to use, the girl's only comment was, "Great, if there's a home invasion, they'll get me first." 

Then Breanna decided to conduct an experiment with the VCR, to see what would happen if rewind and fast forward were depressed at the same time. Fortunately it did not damage the VCR, but did ruin the tape it contained, containing a documentary about the Second World War Bob had recorded last night and was keen to see. A call to the local video store confirmed that they did have the documentary for hire so not all was lost, but Bob was still pretty sore about having to pay the money to hire the video cassette when he could have watched it for free.

Following the furious argument with his unrepentant niece the phone at the Wilson house rang, and on the other end of the line was Kirsty, Anna's much younger, scatter-brained scientist sister to announce she was visiting from Philadelphia on Wednesday and would be staying the night with her parents across the road, something Bob was not relishing. This would involve the family diner with the Williams family, and while this wouldn't normally be such a problem, Kirsty ate like a sparrow so taking her to a nice restaurant would only be a waste of time and money.

Bob mumbled and grumbled as he dusted the dashboard, thinking about his wife's sisters; the nervous, skittish and disorganized Kirsty who was 90-pounds of asthma and nerves and the snobby, social-climbing Carole, who in 1975 had given birth to the spoiled brat Madison. Thinking about Madison's bratty, diva behavior on the camping vacation made Bob's mood even darker, and he took a break, watching as Dylan, Wayne and Kenny ambled away up the street. Bob pondered what John and Kate were up to at the moment, trying not to think about his slacker son and his tramp of a niece, still flaunting her body in the yard.

*

John was at this moment enjoying a far nicer afternoon than his father, he and Samantha who wore a pink tee-shirt, denim shorts and sneakers, walking hand in hand along the river. The sunlight reflected from Samantha's beautiful strawberry blonde hair as it had done at church in the morning, the young lovers stopping to buy ice-creams from a van, sitting down on a bench to eat them, Samantha joking that she had better work twice as hard at the gym that week, John laughing and saying that one ice-cream would hardly ruin her great figure.

Samantha admired John's handsome face and fine physique, but it was inside that mattered more to her. She was blessed with a boyfriend who was the kindest, most compassionate and caring man she had ever met, and her heart swelled, beating twice as fast whenever they were together. He had been there for her in some very tough times when she was sick, and Samantha vowed that she would always be there for him too. In her teens as Samantha recovered from her cancer battle, got better and things returned to normal, John always was there to help her enjoy life and junior high and high school were the best times of her life. Plus he was great with Chris, and got along so well with her parents.

John likewise always felt the swell of love through his body when he and Samantha were together, and the air between him and her filled with a rose colored haze. While some people never met their soul mate, and while he and Samantha were just 20-years-old, he knew that it was fate that the old-fashioned spinster school teacher sat them together in first grade and that he and Samantha were right for each other. Everything was perfect; they shared common likes with some differences to make things interesting, they liked each other's friends and families and always had so much fun together.

As they got up from the table to resume their walk, John took a deep breath, felt the small square box in his pocket and gathered his nerves. Looking out towards the river, John glanced down and said, "My shoelace is loose," and knelt down. Samantha thought nothing of this continuing to look at the birds on the river, until she glanced down and to her amazement, saw John down on one knee, a jewelry box clutched in his hand.

Samantha's mouth opened in surprise and delight as John said, "Samantha, I love you and I know that I want us to spend the rest of our lives together. Will you marry me?" John opened the box to display the ring, the stone shining in the sunlight.

Feeling short of breath, tears welling in her eyes from happiness, Samantha needed no time to think. "Yes," she said. "I love you too John. Yes, I will marry you."

The young couple embraced and kissed, Samantha taking some tissues to wipe her eyes, before John took her left hand and slipped the ring onto her finger. "That was my great-grandmother's ring," he said.

Samantha admired her hand. "It's so beautiful, I love it, I love you, I'm so lucky. My parents will be so happy. How are we going to tell them, and your parents?"

John thought for a moment. "We're all going out to dinner on Wednesday night. How about then, when both of our families are there, so it can be a surprise?"

"That sounds like a good idea," said Samantha. "You know, I hate to take my beautiful ring off my finger until Wednesday, but I think Mom just might notice it if I wear it in the meantime."

"I think she might notice too," said John.

"Well, I can keep it on for the moment, my parents are out with Chris all afternoon," said Samantha. She put a mischievous look on her face. "And I am really going to thank you. To the car, John."

Picking up his girlfriend's vibes, John almost sprinted back to the car, and struggled to drive properly on the way back to Samantha's house, the couple making haste for the door and the quiet interior of the house.

"Now you just wait in there until I call you," said Samantha in a teasing tone, before giving John a kiss on the lips and making her way into her bedroom and closing the door.

On the landing, John trembled in anticipation, feeling himself go hard as he pondered what Samantha had in mind. He recalled events two years earlier. Two months older than Samantha, John waited patiently for Samantha's 18th birthday, and the day she promised that she would make love to him for the first time. Unfortunately, nobody thought to tell Samantha's uterus and ovaries of the plan, and when Samantha went to the bathroom, pulled down her panties and sat on the toilet on the morning of her 18th birthday, there was plenty of evidence that her monthly friend had come to visit her early. So the only things to enter Samantha's vagina that day were tampons; the only things to get into her panties were sanitary napkins, and the girl had to put on a brave face when battling bad menstrual cramps during the family dinner.

Fortunately, Samantha's period was gone by the end of the week and she and John were able to make love for the first time, John worrying he would cum as he saw Samantha's naked breasts, bare bottom and strawberry-blonde pubic hair for the first time as she removed her bra and panties and climbed into bed with him, rubbing her bare feet against his legs. He saw his girlfriend's slim, pink vagina and further down her tight anus as Samantha opened her legs to allow him to enter her, John and Samantha enjoying their first times more than they could have ever dreamed of. Both knew that day that they would never want to make love to anyone else.

"Okay John, you can come in now," came Samantha's voice.

His hands trembling with anticipation, John turned the door-knob and his mouth felt like it would drop to the floor. Samantha was dressed in her bank teller uniform; red jacket and red knee-length skirt with a white blouse and a green scarf, her shoes clad in the black, flat-heeled shoes she often wore to work. A box of condoms sat on the desk.

Samantha kissed John on the lips. "This is your ultimate sexual fantasy come true, the one you told me about," she said, a hand teasing his erection through his shorts and underpants. "You get to screw me in my bank teller uniform bent over the desk with my panties around my ankles." Samantha smiled seductively, before making her way over to her desk in the corner and bending over. She hitched up her skirt, showing off her white cotton bikini panties with lemon waist and leg elastic.

John got into position behind Samantha, and stroked the cheeks of her bottom through the cotton panties, Samantha feeling her vagina getting damp and tingling. He took the waistband of Samantha's panties, and slid them down to expose her bottom, then down her thighs, knees and calves until they reached her ankles, Samantha opening her legs and bending more, the soft pink skin that formed the slim lips of her vagina and the curls of pubic hair that grew between her legs in John's sight, as was his girlfriend's perfect, tight anal opening slightly further back.

Stroking Samantha's bare bottom, causing his fiancée to giggle, John took a condom from the box Samantha had provided and unwrapped it, before pulling down his shorts and underpants, freeing his throbbing erection, stroking Samantha's hair and kissing her on the back of the neck making Samantha squirm as her vagina responded. 

With trembling fingers John slipped the condom onto his penis and made sure it was secure and prevent any accidents that would result in Samantha waddling around with a very pregnant stomach nine months later, and the worry of having a baby they weren't prepared for yet. 

"Now bend lower over your desk, Miss Williams," said John impersonating Samantha's boss, to which Samantha giggled, the young woman bending lower, thrusting her pussy into the air. She spread her ankles wider, the elastic waistband of her lowered panties stretched to capacity.

"Am I going to get employee of the month?" asked Samantha.

"I think you might," said John, embracing Samantha from behind and rubbing his cock against her vulva, before pushing deep into her warm feminine dampness, Samantha gasping as John's throbbing penis filled her vagina. 

Reaching around to Samantha's chest, John stroked and teased her breasts through her blouse, feeling her bra and the shape of her breasts, her nipples clearly hard. This was perfect, just perfect with Samantha in her bank uniform he always found so hot, bent over with her ass in the air and her pretty little panties down around her ankles.

Thrusting in and out of Samantha's pussy, his fiancée gasping and squealing while John kept stroking her tits through her uniform to double her pleasure, John kept stealing glances down at Samantha's panties, seeing a few small cream-colored feminine stains on the double cotton saddle and his excitement rose even higher. While he always respected Samantha's privacy, sometimes he was unable to resist taking a pair of her panties from her underwear drawer when she left the room, holding them up and admiring them and thinking about the private areas of Samantha that they covered.

John could feel how wet Samantha was, her delicate feminine smell further evidence of this, and he could really feel the heat of her pussy as he came with a huge blast of semen into the condom. Just seconds later, Samantha let out a squeal and she went rigid. In her shoes her toes curled up as she felt the tingling sensation in her clitoris spread through her vagina and into her anus and with a rush of feminine wetness she reached her orgasm, gasping and panting, feeling her dampness running from her vulva to her anus.

Withdrawing from Samantha, they exchanged a deep passionate kiss. "That was absolutely amazing," gasped Samantha, her panties still around her ankles, sweat running down her pretty face.

John nodded. "Yeah, that was the hottest I've ever been. How about we do it the same time tomorrow at your bank counter? I'm sure your boss won't mind."

Samantha laughed. "I think he might mind." She looked at the clock on the bedside table. "Mom, Dad and Chris won't be back for ages, so we have plenty of time for our other favorite activity. Bath time!"

John was only too keen, and Samantha kicked off her shoes and panties, and not wanting her skirt to smell of her pussy if it got too close to her damp, sticky vagina removed that too, along with her jacket and scarf. John got undressed completely, removed and disposed of the condom and followed Samantha, who kept on her blouse and he admired her bare bottom from behind, and her triangle of pubic hair as she turned into the bathroom and this was reflected in the mirror.

Closing the door, Samantha removed the last of her clothes exposing her beautiful breasts and ran a bath, putting in plenty of bubble bath and some bath salts she had received as a birthday present. John was the first to climb into the warm, relaxing fragrant bubbles, sighing in pleasure as the warm water covered his body.




Trailer Trash Teen Hates Rules Ch. 03



INTRODUCTION & DISCLAIMER - Waking up in a bad mood on Monday morning, trailer park girl Breanna drives her aunt, uncle and cousin Kate insane with her antics. But when bitchy nympho Breanna selects two guys to satisfy her sexually, maybe even she should have been more discerning!

This kinky sex comedy set in the early 1990s contains strong language and adult themes, and coarse ribald humor, both sexual and non-sexual. Only characters aged 18 and over engage in sexual activity or are naked, with all characters and events fictional. Any similarity to real persons living or dead is coincidental and unintentional.

Please enjoy Chapter 3 of Trailer Trash Teen Hates Rules, and check out its predecessor, Spoiled Princess Hates Camping.

***

KATE Wilson's pretty face was peaceful as she slept through the Sunday night and early hours of Monday morning, before her eyelids fluttered open to show her green irises around dawn. Kate yawned and stretched, the tall teenager reaching for her glasses on her bedside table, pushing some strands of her long brown hair back from her forehead.

Sliding her feet and legs out from under the cover, Kate stood up and smoothed down her oversize white tee-shirt, her big breasts straining the front of the fabric, over the white full brief panties with pink flowers she was wearing. Opening the drawer next to her bed, Kate took a sanitary napkin and placed it in her bathroom bag. Sliding open the door of her closet, Kate took out her clothes for work; a white short-sleeved blouse and knee-length black skirt and a white E-cup bra. The final item she collected was the novel she was reading, and with everything she needed Kate walked barefoot across the hallway and into the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind her.

Placing her clothes and bathroom bag next to the shower, Kate put her book on the toilet cistern, checked for toilet paper, put down the toilet seat then lifted her oversize shirt and pulled down her panties, her overnight pad securely adhered to the saddle, down to her ankles and sat on the toilet, positioning the plump cheeks of her bare bottom so she was comfortable on the seat.

Her knees slightly apart showing off her forest of pubic hair and her dark-pink oval-shaped vagina, Kate began to urinate, her stream of yellow pee splashing into the toilet bowl, the sound filling the bathroom and audible not only in there but the hallway and in Dylan's bedroom directly opposite the bathroom. Dylan, who had just awoken, put his pillow over his head to drown out the noise of his sister using the toilet, cursing himself for not getting in before her. Once Kate was on the toilet, she would be there for 10 to 15 minutes, sometimes up to 20 minutes, and that was not including her shower, tooth-brushing, hair-fixing and make-up application time. Dylan would now have to wait for either his sister to finish, or use his parents' bathroom when they finished getting ready for work.

In the bathroom, Kate finished peeing, unwound some toilet paper and wiped her pussy then moved her bowels, feeling relief in her rectum as she was pooing, splashing sounds from the toilet echoing around the bathroom. Kate unwound and scrunched up a length of toilet paper from the roll, then wiped her bottom front to back, reaching behind her to pick up her novel and opened it where she had left off, Kate's facial expression again changing as she again moved her bowels.

Kate was an avid reader, a major factor in her deciding to become an English teacher, and often would read novels or text books while she was on the toilet. But while Kate was enjoying this book, she could only read one paragraph before she put the novel back on the cistern, unable to concentrate on it. Kate again got some toilet paper and wiped her vagina and anus, while looking down at her bare feet and lowered panties, unable to stop thinking about Brett the previous afternoon.

While making out after Brett gave Kate's bare feet a massage, he had seemed so affectionate with her, kissing her more intimately, stroking her, holding her hand, gazing at her, telling her how beautiful she was. Kate of course had no objection to this, but then Brett broke one of the rules they had always agreed to that if they had sex with anyone else, they did not tell the other about it. Brett mentioned that he had hooked up with a girl while in Pittsburgh for work while Kate was on vacation, and that whole night in the hotel room he had wished that it was Kate in the bed with him.

Kate did not mention the adventures she and Madison enjoyed with Australian travelers Davo and Travis, then Brett was saying that maybe they could go out to a movie, or just for a coffee together. A little surprised that Brett would contemplate dating, Kate had mentioned the complications, including that Brett was John's friend, and her protective older brother would probably not be pleased about such a relationship, also that she was starting college in the fall.

Brett had mentioned that such difficulties could easily be overcome. John could hardly object to his sister and friend going out on a harmless date, what they had done together so far would remain strictly between them and Philadelphia was just over an hour's drive away, so they could easily visit each other at weekends or during spare time, with Kate coming home for college holidays anyway.

Kate did not completely discount the possibility of them being a proper boyfriend and girlfriend, with Brett saying to her to think it through as she got ready to drive home, Brett and Kate ending their afternoon with a long, deep kiss and Brett feeling the elastic of Kate's panties through her skirt.

There was certainly a lot for Kate to think about, and adding to the complication were her feelings about Travis. Kate's toilet paper tickled her vagina as she again wiped between her legs before moving it back to her anus, and the girl squirmed on the toilet seat as the pleasurable feeling reminded her of the great sex she and Travis had enjoyed while on vacation. But Travis was only in America on a working vacation, and would return to Australia before the end of the year along with his friend Davo. Then he and Kate would be half a world away from each other, which hardly made for a great relationship. 

Kate should have had plenty of time to contemplate things in the peace and privacy that the bathroom provided, her slightly unsteady tummy coupled with having her period were factors that would keep her on the toilet for some time this morning. However, another factor was to come into play very soon, and this factor was a certain blonde 18-year-old female, who had awoken on the first floor also needing to empty her own bowels.

Getting out of her bed in the back room and wearing the same oversize tee-shirt she had yesterday over a pair of white bikini panties with pink hearts, Breanna had mounted the stairs on her bare feet, pausing only to pull the elastic of her panties out of her right butt cheek, the panties having ridden up during the night to give the teenager a wedgie.

Breanna attempted to turn the handle on the bathroom door, but it was locked. "Fuck," muttered Breanna. In the bathroom, Kate heard Breanna outside the door, but did not respond, continuing to sit on the toilet without reacting.

Sighing dramatically, Breanna stood by the bathroom door, and heard the sound of whoever was in there advancing the toilet roll and rustling the toilet paper, the same sound repeated a few seconds later and Breanna thought they would soon be finished. However in the quiet of the house she faintly heard splashing sounds in the toilet as the occupier moved her bowels, then the sound of more toilet paper being unwound.

Lacking any sort of patience at the best of times, Breanna knocked loudly on the bathroom door, causing Kate to jump. "I'm in here," Kate called out.

"Kate, how long are you going to be?" Breanna called out.

Irritated, Kate responded, "I'll be finished when I finish."

"Oh for fuck's sake Kate, how long have you already been in there?" demanded Breanna. "Get a fucking move on. How long does it take you to have a shit?"

In the bathroom, the embarrassed Kate flushed bright red. "Breanna, can you leave me alone?"

Dylan emerged from his bedroom to get a better view of his nubile cousin standing barefoot on the landing in her over-size tee-shirt, and her harassing his twin sister while she was on the toilet, which he found greatly amusing. Dylan was a fan of anything that irritated Kate.

Seeing Dylan emerge from his bedroom, Breanna turned to him. "Does your sister normally take this long when she's on the toilet?"

Dylan laughed. "Yeah, Kate's always going to the bathroom, she always takes ages and she uses heaps of toilet paper, especially when it's that time of the month."

"Shut up, Dylan!" Kate yelled through the door. "Can you both just leave me to have some privacy?"

"She gets really pissed off if you disturb her too," Dylan pointed out.

"Well I get pissed off when your sister won't get her fat ass off the toilet when other people are waiting," said Brenna. She pounded repeatedly on the door. "Come on Kate, get some toilet paper, wipe your ass and finish for fuck's sake."

"Breanna, get lost," Kate snapped. In the bathroom, Kate's body posture on the toilet was rigid and defensive, her knees locked together, her expression furious. She had never been harassed like this while she was sitting on the toilet having a poo before, and hoped that she never would be again.

"It's real easy to pick the lock on this door," Breanna warned her cousin. "If you don't hurry the fuck up, I'll do it and drag you off the toilet and into the hall with your panties still around your ankles."

"Leave me alone!" yelled Kate, Breanna and Dylan both laughing. Breanna knocked repeatedly on the bathroom door, succeeding with her goal of driving Kate crazy.

Had John been at home, he would have put a stop to this right away and Kate would have been able to finish on the toilet in peace and privacy. However, John had left early to go with the local fitness center with Samantha. Likewise, Bob would have not permitted this shameful treatment of his daughter, but Bob was in the ensuite bathroom taking a shower, and unable to hear this nonsense. It was left to Anna to sort out the problem, when she returned from outside and heard the commotion upstairs. Dressed in the blue uniform of the medical center where she worked as a receptionist, Anna dashed upstairs.

"What is going on up here?" Anna demanded sternly.

"Mom, I'm trying to go to the bathroom, and they keep bothering me," Kate protested from behind the door.

"Oh boo-hoo," sneered Breanna. "Toughen the fuck up Kate."

"Enough!" snapped Anna. "Breanna, what is the problem?"

"I am dying to take a shit, but Kate's already in there on the toilet having a shit and taking way too long," said Breanna. "For fuck's sake, how long can it take her to finish and wipe her ass?"

"Breanna, do not speak like that," said Anna, although she doubted her niece would heed this advice. Anna noticed her son standing there watching everything with great amusement. "Don't you have anything to do, Dylan?" she asked.

"Nuh," said Dylan.

"You do now. Go downstairs and feed the cats and dogs, and don't ever let me catch you annoying Kate like this again." Anna pointed at the staircase, and Dylan reluctantly skulked away, disappointed to be missing the end of the show.

"Are you going to do anything?" Breanna demanded. "Can I use your bathroom?"

"No, because Bob is having a shower," said Anna.

"I'm sure he wouldn't mind if I went in there and sat on the toilet while he dried off," Breanna smirked.

"No!" snapped Anna. "Now you stop saying things like that, is that clear?"

"I really need to go to the bathroom," said Breanna. "Should I just stand here while you're wasting my fucking time, shit myself and make a huge mess in my panties?"

"This is what is going to happen," said Anna. "You are going to wait here patiently, and you will use the bathroom that becomes free first. You will be patient with other people in this house, and you will never, ever bother Kate when she's in the bathroom like that ever again. When Kate is using the toilet, she will be left in peace and privacy. How do you think Kate feels, having to put up with your nonsense when she's in no position to defend herself? Do I make myself clear, Breanna?"

"I can see Kate's your favorite," responded the recalcitrant Breanna.

"It's not a matter of favorites," said Anna sternly. "It's a matter of rules and respect, young lady." She remained standing with Breanna to make sure the girl did not cause any more trouble, and also to speak to Kate when her daughter finished.

The words 'rules' and 'respect' were ones that pissed off Breanna even more, but at least she was away from the bathroom door. In the bathroom, Kate was able to relax more and finish pooing, the teenager unwinding toilet paper five times in a row to wipe herself clean. Kate stood up and pulled up and adjusted her panties and her pad. Her sanitary napkin would need to be changed, but she would do this when she returned to the bathroom for a shower. Kate put down the toilet lid, then flushed the toilet and with the sound of the cistern refilling, the teenager thoroughly washed her hands. She took her work clothes, not wanting to risk Breanna throwing them in the shower as revenge, and then her bathroom bag and book.

When Kate emerged from the bathroom, Breanna sneered at her. "It's about fucking time."

"Breanna, you stop that," snapped Anna as Kate, an indignant angry look on her face, walked on her bare feet towards her bedroom, with Breanna likewise walking towards the bathroom on her own bare feet.

Breanna stopped outside the bathroom noticing Kate's toilet smell. "Jesus Kate, it smells really bad in here. Fuck, how could you stink out the toilet so much, or did you just fart on your way out?"

Kate's already rigid body position became even more so as the indignant teenager strode for her bedroom. "Breanna, shut your mouth!" warned Anna, before going to follow her daughter. However, the older woman paused when she did not hear the bathroom door close and lock and turned around to a most unwelcome sight.

The bathroom door was wide open, and Anna was in time to see her niece lift her over-size tee-shirt and slide down her white panties with pink hearts to her ankles before sitting down on the toilet. Anna remembered Rosanne's warning that one of Breanna's favored tactics for getting attention and causing offense was to sit on the toilet with the door open, and it was clear that the girl was going to do the same here. 

Anna dashed for the bathroom as the sound of Breanna urinating began to fill the upstairs. "Breanna, no! You always close and lock the door, do you understand?" She pressed the door lock button, and slammed the bathroom door closed.

Breanna answered back even as she was peeing. "You fucking talk to me when I'm on the fucking toilet, and you fucking yell at me when I talk to Kate while she's on the fucking toilet. I'm sick to fucking death of the fucking shit that goes on around this fucking house."

"Shut up for once in your life, Breanna," was Anna's sharp response. Shaking her head with rage, Anna went to Kate's bedroom to check on her daughter. Kate was pacing next to her bed on her bare feet, still fuming. Anna closed the bedroom door. "You okay, Kate?"

Kate shook her head. "She drives me nuts. Breanna has been here two days, and things have been complete chaos. It was so humiliating, the way she carried on while I was in the bathroom. And my brother didn't help things."

"Would you like me to make them apologize to you?" asked Anna.

"No thanks, it would be just too embarrassing for me," said Kate.

Anna put her arm around her daughter to reassure her. "I'm sorry about Breanna. I don't want her here either, but she was kind of just thrown at us. If Breanna does anything more like this morning, let me know and your father and I will deal with her. And if she doesn't improve, we'll take her right back to the trailer park and your Aunt Rosanne and Uncle Wyatt can put up with her."

"Thanks Mom," said Kate. She looked at her bedside clock. "I'd really better get ready for work, I don't want to be late. I bet Breanna will take her time now, to try and teach me some sort of lesson."

"Your Dad has finished in our bathroom now," said Anna. "How about you go in there and get ready?"

"My red towel and bathmat are in the main bathroom," said Kate, her voice uncertain. "I don't want to make a mess of a towel in your bathroom ..."

"I have my own red towel and bathmat that you can use," said Anna. "Remember, I'm a woman too."

"Yes, of course," said Kate, laughing lightly. "Thanks again Mom."

"It's no problem," Anna assured her daughter, giving Kate a hug, before Kate turned and walked to her parents' ensuite bathroom to take her shower and returned to the first floor to get breakfast.

In the main bathroom, Breanna sat pooing on the toilet, her legs open showing her vagina and blonde pubic hair, her panties down around her ankles and bare feet, the smell of her own poo combining with the smell of Kate's poo. The blonde teenager unwound some toilet paper from the roll, and wiped her dirty bottom, all the while fuming over what she perceived as bias shown by Anna to favor Kate. Getting more toilet paper and again wiping her anus, Breanna plotted her revenge, and how best to humiliate her aunt and cousin. A great idea came into her head for Anna, and by association Bob straight away, but for Kate she needed more time to think.

Dylan stood waiting outside the bathroom to take a shower before work. Dylan acted casually as he heard the sound of his cousin advancing the toilet roll, imagining Breanna sitting on the toilet with her panties around her ankles and thinking about how the toilet paper she had unwound would be now making intimate contact with Breanna's most interesting areas.

Behind the bathroom door, Breanna strained again, and more of her poo splashed into the toilet, before the girl unwound toilet paper three times in a row to wipe herself clean. Breanna stood up and flushed the toilet, pulling up her panties and washing her hands. Turning on her bare feet Breanna walked to the bathroom door and opened it, seeing Dylan outside. Breanna patted her cousin on the head. "Hey shorty, make sure you breathe through your mouth in there. Between my shit and your sister's shit, phew." She fanned her hand under her nose.

Dylan quickly realized that the advice given by Breanna was sound as he stepped into the bathroom and found that the toilet smells left by Kate and Breanna were as bad as his cousin warned. He lifted the toilet seat, still warm from Breanna's bare bottom sitting on it and peed as quickly as he could before flushing and running to the shower cubicle. Never one to take long showers anyway, Dylan's visit to the shower was rapid and he decided that he could do without tooth brushing this morning. Brushing his teeth had been a source of major debate for he and his parents for years, Dylan avoiding it where possible while his goody-two shoes sister brushed her teeth religiously. Much to the mean-spirited boy's pleasure, he never had a thing wrong with his teeth and often received praise from the dentist, while the conscientious Kate had worn orthodontic braces in middle school.

After dressing in the blue supermarket uniform he wore to work, Dylan emerged from his room at the same time Kate did from her own room. The tall, pretty teenager looked good in her work clothes, the white blouse, black knee-length skirt and black shoes, her hair tied back in a neat bun, her glasses making her look all the more professional.




Trailer Trash Teen Hates Rules Ch. 03



Dylan could not resist a comment that sounded like a compliment, but in fact was an insult. "Wow Kate, those clothes make you look so much better this morning."

Kate, still pissed off at Dylan was not going to speak to him anyway, and even more irritated now, maintained her frosty silence on the way downstairs. With Kate driving Dylan to work this morning, it was going to be a tense ride for the siblings.

In the spare room where Breanna was staying, she had no intention of dressing yet, and still wore the oversize tee-shirt and panties she had slept in. She had taken the weekend newspaper, this a critical piece in the revenge she would take upon her aunt and uncle. Breanna was about to go and get some breakfast when an idea crossed her mind.

Reaching under her tee-shirt, Breanna pulled down her panties and stepped out of them, leaving them on the floor. Massaging her pussy with her fingers and getting her snatch nice and sticky, Breanna walked to the kitchen, carrying her purse so she could have a smoke after breakfast, with no panties covering her pubic hair, bottom and vagina. It wasn't often that Breanna went commando. She liked tight jeans and shorts, so panties were a necessity to stop the seams cutting into her cooch. And when wearing her short skirts Breanna loved flashing her panties at guys and teasing them, leading them on and letting them down.

However, this morning she would sit at the table and have breakfast with no panties on at all, just a tee-shirt barely covering her womanhood. Everyone was getting their breakfast; Anna, Kate and Dylan were having cereal, fruit, toast and juice, while Bob was sitting down to a full fried breakfast; eggs, bacon, sausages, fried bread, tomatoes and mushrooms. Bob enjoyed fried breakfasts, but for the sake of health, ate just one a week, usually on a Monday. As had been the case the day before, the dogs and cats sat back watching the family eat.

Breanna got some toast and sat down at the table. The teenager opened her legs wide under the table top, knowing her pubes and sticky snatch were exposed. Bob and Anna of course saw none of this but gave their niece disapproving looks, with the girl having not showered and the smell of her sweat, cigarette smoke and femininity noticeable.

"Why haven't you dressed and showered yet?" Anna asked.

"One, your daughter takes forever on the toilet so there wasn't time, two I don't have any fucking thing to do today so there's no point," retorted Breanna.

"Breanna, you have been warned before about your language and the way you treat Kate, so shut it," warned Bob.

Breanna looked at Bob's breakfast. "That's bad for you," she said.

"That's not your concern, and I work hard all week to earn the money for pay for it," warned Bob. "So when I want a fried breakfast in my house, then I will eat a fried breakfast in my house."

"Great, you've got a job, and all of your family have jobs, I'm so jealous," sneered Breanna.

Bob took a sip of coffee. "Actually, you do have a job to do today, Breanna."

"Yeah what?" sneered Breanna. 

"Your grandparents across the road have had a load of mulch delivered to landscape their garden," said Bob. "You will be weeding the garden beds, and spreading the mulch over the beds."

"They're not my grandparents," said Breanna. She pointed at Anna. "They're her parents, and John, Kate and Dylan's grandparents. Your parents are my grandparents. Get your facts right."

"Breanna, lose the attitude," warned Anna.

"It doesn't make any difference whose grandparents they are," said Bob. "You will be doing what we say, and that is that. You may not have a proper job, but when you live here, you work."

Breanna glowered at her aunt and uncle and took a mouthful of toast, again holding out the crust to the dogs and cats who wandered over, interested in this new food source.

"Breanna, you are not to feed your breakfast to the dogs and cats at the table," warned Bob.

"So, you don't want me to feed my breakfast to the dogs and cats from the table, Uncle Bob?" asked Breanna.

"Yes, the last thing I want to do is feed your breakfast to the dogs and cats from the table," said Bob.

"Okay then, I'll feed them your breakfast from the table," said Breanna. She grabbed her uncle's plate, of which he had eaten about three mouthfuls of his breakfast and tipped the contents onto the floor. This time, with meat available the carnivorous instincts of the cats and dogs kicked in and they raced in to devour Bob's breakfast as quickly as they could, a chorus of barking, growling and hissing filling the room as the pets squabbled over the spoils. One cat, a rasher of bacon in her mouth, climbed up the curtain rail to eat it away from the competition.

Breanna took an apple from the fruit bowl and placed it on her uncle's empty plate. "You said not to feed my breakfast to the cats and dogs, not to feed your breakfast to them. Here, eat this it's much healthier for you. You can thank me later when you don't have a heart attack or stroke." Under the table, the girl adjusted her tee shirt so her chair was directly in contact with her bare bottom and vagina, the teenager's sticky pussy juice getting on the seat.

Bob's face was bright red, and he looked as though he might have the said heart attack or stroke very soon, so furious was his expression. Incandescent with rage, Bob slammed his open palm down into the table, causing Kate and Dylan to jump. "Don't you dare do anything like that again," Bob stormed at his indifferent niece, who smirked with smug satisfaction at the drama she had caused.

"Do you think it's funny?" Anna demanded of her niece, furious that her husband had started his first day back at work this way.

"I'll tell you what is funny Breanna," said Bob. He grabbed Breanna's purse and took out a twenty dollar note. "You will be paying for my new breakfast that I will buy on my way to work." With that Bob slammed the purse down and stormed out, pausing only to kiss Anna on the way out. So furious was Bob about the fate of his breakfast that the amount of money Breanna had in her purse failed to attract his attention. Had a more rational Bob seen this, he would have asked questions as to how Breanna, who was unemployed like her parents and brother and lived day to day on welfare and loans in a trailer park, had so much cash and where she got it from.

The sound of Bob's van reversing down the driveway was heard, then the squeal of tires as he sped away towards town. "I hope he slows down before he gets a ticket," laughed Breanna.

"Now that is enough for one morning," said Anna. "I need to get some things before work, so you have five minutes to assist yourself in getting lung cancer, and then I will show you what needs to be done at my parents' house."

Kate and Dylan quickly cleared the table and did the washing up in absolute silence as their mother went upstairs, and Breanna collected her cigarettes and lighter and a pair of flip-flop shoes and went outside. The chair she had been sitting on showed a few damp stains on the seat, where Breanna had ground her vagina against it.

Lighting her cigarette, Breanna squatted barefoot on the porch facing the road, her knees wide apart, the teenager shamelessly showing off her pubic hair and her sticky pink snatch to anyone who happened to be passing by, which thankfully for the sake of public decency was nobody. Feeling an itch inside her pussy, the girl slipped her finger inside to relieve it then pulled out her vagina scented finger and sniffed it. The smell of her own snatch made her think of Isabella's snatch, and Breanna pondered if she might be able to get in contact with her friend today. Another itch, this time on her bottom distracted her and she reached around the back to scratch her ass.

Hearing her aunt approach, Breanna finished off the cigarette and stood up, deliberately blowing smoke near Anna's face as the slim figure of her aunt stood next to her. "Okay, let's see what I have to do today," said Breanna without enthusiasm, as she slipped her feet into her flip-flops and went with Anna and her aunt pointed out the mulch, which to Breanna seemed the size of Mt. Everest and the gardening tools and gloves. 

"It will do you good to see how hard everyone in this family works," Anna said to Breanna, her niece not sharing the same level of enthusiasm.

"So are your parents home today?" asked Breanna.

"Not much, they keep busy in their retirement," said Anna. 

"So what do I do when I'm thirsty, hungry or need to go to the bathroom?" demanded Breanna. "Drink from the hose, starve, squat in the garden when I need a poo, and wipe my ass with leaves?"

"Spare me the drama Breanna," said Anna. She handed her niece a key. "This is for the back door, but you will only go back inside when you really need to, like when you need the bathroom. And remember, no smoking inside."

"Yes," sighed Breanna dramatically. 

As the two women walked back across the road to the house, Anna walked behind Breanna and looked at her niece's figure from behind. She did not approve of Breanna walking out across the road in her nightwear, but there was no way she was going to waste time talking the girl into having a shower as she would be very late for work. However, looking at Breanna she could not help but feel that something looked out of place, but could not put her finger on it.

Going up the driveway, Breanna noticed a dime on the concrete and without thinking bent over to pick it up. As Breanna's tee-shirt rode up, Anna realized very quickly realized what looked out of place with the girl; no panty lines under her nightwear. Now the horrified Anna was confronted with the cheeks of Breanna's bare bottom and further down the slim pink lips of her vagina.

"Breanna, stand up!" hissed Anna, worried if anybody else had seen this. She pushed her niece over to where her car stood. "What do you think you were doing, going out with no panties like that?"

"Oh sorry, I must have forgotten, I'll be more careful in the future," said Breanna casually.

"You will wear underwear at all times, is that clear young lady?" snapped Anna.

"Underwear at all times, got it," said Breanna.

"Good, now go inside and get ready, I will not be late to work," snapped Anna.

On the way back inside, they passed Kate and Dylan who bade their mother goodbye for the day and got into the car, Kate driving and Dylan in the front passenger seat, still silent. Kate immediately put the radio onto the popular music station she liked and reversed down the driveway, a cheerful bubblegum pop tune filling the car and seeming out of place with the frosty atmosphere between the brother and sister. Dylan was more a fan of grunge and heavy metal, and did not share his sister's taste in music, although he did enjoy watching pop music video shows if only to perve on the girls in the clips.

In the road, Kate put the car into drive and Dylan took his chance to try and change the station, immediately withdrawing his hand as Kate slapped it away from the radio. Dylan pondered if he should try and change the channel to the country and western channel as Kate drove down the street, the pissed off teenager driving much too fast as her father had done. Given how Kate despised country music it would make her really mad, but fortunately he could not muster the nerve and Kate continued to drive in complete silence.

Back at the house, Breanna pulled on her white panties with hearts that she had been wearing earlier in the morning, a black shirt that showed off her cleavage and mid-riff and short denim shorts with her panties marginally visible at the top, encasing her feet in white sneakers that she had stolen a few weeks earlier.

Anna disapproved of the way her niece was dressed but said nothing, as she would be late for work if she debated the issue with Breanna. Instead she ordered Breanna to get to work, locked up the house and drove away to the medical center.

Breanna sighed deeply and dramatically as she put on gloves and with great reluctance commenced weeding, seeing Anna's parents heading out for the day, the elderly couple scarcely acknowledging her. Less than 30 minutes passed before Breanna decided that she needed a break, but unusually did not reach for her cigarettes.

Going back across the road Breanna let herself in the back door and collected the newspaper she had been going through earlier. Opening the paper at the correct page, Breanna picked up the receiver and dialed the number. One of the girl's natural talents was an ability to mimic other people's voices, and when the caller at the other end answered Breanna's voice was perfect to pass as her 47-year-old aunt.

"Good morning," said Breanna politely. "My name is Anna. My husband Bob and I saw your advertisement in the newspaper and we were wondering ..."

*

John had missed all the drama at the house that morning, having a good workout at the local fitness center while Samantha took the aerobics class next door. The fit and good-looking young man, dressed in a sleeveless shirt and shorts made his way around the circuit, but found himself sneaking peeks into the aerobics room where the equally fit Samantha was stepping, running, jumping and stretching to the music and the instructor's directions, other pretty girls also in the class doing the same.

Samantha looked great in a pink sports top, the strap of her sports bra visible on one of her shoulders, wearing stirrup pants that fit great on her bottom and legs and pristine white athletic shoes on her feet. Her beautiful strawberry blonde hair was tied back in a pony-tail, bouncing up and down much like her breasts as Samantha worked out.

At one stage John's friend Brett joined him in the gym, but John noticed that his friend seemed distracted by something this morning before Brett went on his way. From what John knew of Brett, it was probably some chick, or a number of chicks.

The aerobics class finished and the participants stretched and cooled down, John finishing in the gym and greeting Samantha with a kiss on the cheek as she left the aerobics room. "You looked great in there," he said.

Samantha giggled as she sat down on a bench, wiping sweat from her forehead with a towel. "You're supposed to be working out, not ogling me and my friends as we do aerobics." Samantha removed her shoes and socks so she was barefoot, the straps of her stirrup pants fitting comfortably around her arches. Stretching out her legs as she put her shoes in the gym bag, Samantha wriggled her bare toes.

"You're much nicer to look at than Brett," John pointed out.

"I'm very glad to hear it," said Samantha. She looked around to ensure they were alone. "So, Wednesday is the big night. You know, my mother said that there seemed something different about me last night, but I just acted casual and didn't give the game away. Nobody has said anything to you?"

John shook his head. "No, nothing. Oh, I forgot to mention there will be one extra, my Aunt Kirsty from Philadelphia will be staying overnight with Grandma and Grandpa."

"She's really nice," said Samantha, before she remembered Bob's opinion of Kirsty. "What does your Dad say about that? I don't think he likes her very much."

"He's not exactly dancing around singing show tunes," said John. "But the biggest problem might be Breanna."

"Yeah, will Breanna be coming on Wednesday?" asked Samantha, wondering what horrors John's trashy cousin could bring to this important family dinner.

"Maybe she will have run away back to the trailer park by Wednesday?" suggested John hopefully.

He and Samantha walked to the change-rooms, John was unable to keep from stealing glances at Samantha's bottom, her buttocks covered by the tight black fabric of her stirrup pants, her panty lines visible through the material. 

As John went into the male change-room through the blue door and Samantha into the female change room through the yellow door, John kept thinking more and more about Samantha and as he undressed and removed his underpants to get under the shower, he could see how his penis was starting to respond, his cock getting larger and larger. Fortunately there was nobody else in there at the time, but despite deliberately setting the water temperature in the showers as cold as he could take it, Samantha refused to leave his mind's eye and he just got harder and harder.

Desperate for a solution, John wracked his memory bank and found something he could use. This was a very sad movie he, Kate, and Dylan had watched as children, which was about a boy whose dog was the only source of comfort to him after his mother died, only for the dog to die too. With animal-lover Kate sobbing into a handful of tissues and Dylan running upstairs yelling in insistence that he had a cold, John had spent the afternoon appearing to be stoic but hoping that he would not have to speak as the lump in his throat was too big to swallow. This memory did the trick, and finally John's groin subsided.

In the female change-room next door, as Samantha pulled down her panties the dampness in the saddle was not merely sweat, but also a healthy dose of feminine arousal as her pussy responded to the sight of her fit boyfriend - now fiancé but to nobody else's knowledge yet - in his work-out gear.

However, as Samantha was a girl she had a decided advantage over John when she got turned on in public, and damp panties were her worst consequence. Getting under the shower, Samantha allowed the water to fall on her naked nubile body, from her long hair down over her breasts and to her bare bottom and triangle of pubic hair, before running down her legs to her bare feet. Between her legs Samantha felt her clitoris tingling and how wet and sticky her vagina was, but for her the solution was simple, and just involved washing her aroused pussy.

The only other woman in the change-room was named Jessica Adams, a former teacher of Samantha, and John and his siblings, who had just taken the same class as Samantha and her friends. The stunningly attractive blonde 28-year-old gym teacher stood naked under her own shower, water cascading down her fit toned body, her shapely breasts and blonde triangle of pubic hair and at the back Jessica's bare bottom. Jessica opened her legs slightly to wash her vagina and anus, cleaning her private female areas thoroughly. From there, the water and soap travelled down the blonde beauty's legs and to her bare feet on the shower floor. Jessica had no idea that her former pupil in Samantha had a sexually-aroused snatch further along the row of showers, but had Jessica been in the male change-rooms and seen John at the same time, she would have been left in no doubt that something was turning him on big time.

Putting on a fresh bra and panties and the bank teller uniform she had worn yesterday bent over the desk with her panties around her ankles as John screwed her after proposing, Samantha left the change-room and met up with John, before walking to their cars to commence their respective days; Samantha serving bank customers and John driving around to see clients.

*

Dylan was getting into his working day in the supermarket, and admiring Kate's friend Sonia as she stood at her cash register, her light blue dress looking great with her beautiful black skin, her long black curls of hair tied back with a blue ribbon. Dylan looked down at the floor, and he could see Sonia's perfect feet in her open shoes; the topside and her toes black and underneath the pink skin of her soles was marginally visible.

Once Dylan had seen more of Sonia than he had ever dreamed possible, when she slept over after studying with Kate and got stranded on the toilet after running out of toilet paper halfway through, which was Dylan's fault in the first place as he failed to stock the bathroom with paper when he was told to clean it. Seeing the tall 18-year-old African-American beauty sitting barefoot on the toilet with her panties around her ankles as Kate rescued her by bringing her more toilet paper so she could finish pooing and wipe her bottom clean was an image firmly ingrained in Dylan's mind's eye, to be used for masturbation sessions for years to come.




Trailer Trash Teen Hates Rules Ch. 03



Dylan would miss all of Kate's pretty friends; Sonia, Andrea, Penny, Katrina, Bridget and cousin Holly visiting so much when they all went to college, as he would not be able to fantasize about them as frequently when they went to the bathroom and sat on the toilet with their panties around their ankles just opposite from his bedroom. Sonia finished serving a customer with a smile on her pretty face, and Dylan thought more about how he had sniffed the panties of Sonia and the other friends when opportunities arose. Dylan's voyeurism also included crouching down with a wine glass against the wall, listening as the girls discussed private female things. Therefore he was an expert on Sonia, Andrea, Penny, Bridget, Katrina and Holly's periods as well as what color and designs of underwear the girls favored. Dylan pondered that maybe he should have studied harder, then he too could have gone to college and had lots more girls to engage in voyeurism with? But going to college meant studying hard to get good grades, and even more hard work there. Hard work was something Dylan did not embrace.

With no customers around, Dylan decided to wander over and try to strike up a conversation with Sonia. She had no boyfriend at present; perhaps one day the tall, beautiful, black girl would fall for him, and he would finally get into Sonia's panties and check out her pink pussy and anus?

"So Sonia, what did you get up to on the weekend?" Dylan asked, trying to sound casual.

Sonia's reply was disinterested, dismissive. "Besides go to church where we saw each other yesterday?"

"Oh yes, church of course," said Dylan. "I really like church, do you like church?" The latter part of this was a lie, but he thought it might impress Sonia.

Again, Sonia looked bored and examined her nails. "I guess."

"So our cousin Breanna is staying with us at the moment," said Dylan. 

"Yes, Kate told me and I saw her yesterday." Sonia sighed and looked at the ceiling.

"Dylan, what are you doing here?" came a male voice behind him.

The diminutive Dylan turned around to see the newcomer, and cursed under his breath. This was Mike, his shift supervisor, a tall and muscular brown haired young man aged 19 whose swarthy complexion gave him the appearance of a Greek god. Mike had been in the year above him in high school and a sports superstar for the class of 1993, he was now playing football for the same college the girls would be attending in the fall.

"Just helping out," was Dylan's response.

"I see, perhaps you could assist somebody else who isn't trying to work?" suggested Mike. He approached Sonia himself. "Hi Sonia, how are you today?"

Immediately, Sonia's attitude changed. She smiled, fiddled with her hair and said, "Great Mike, thanks for asking."

"It will be so great all of us in college in the fall," said Mike.

"I can't wait to see you guys playing football," gushed Sonia, the normally level-headed girl sounding like a varsity sports groupie as she flirted with Mike, laughing at his jokes, totally captivated by his charms.

"Useless jock," mumbled Dylan under his breath, every organ in his body turning green with his envy. Backing away still watching Mike and Sonia, Dylan failed to see where he was going. Exiting the aisle was his former classmate Erin Green, carrying a shopping basket. 

They collided heavily, the pretty but dowdy Erin going sprawling on her back with her legs wide open, her short loose skirt ending up around her waist, showing off the white full brief panties with yellow flowers the teenager was wearing. Erin's glasses slid off her face, and the contents of her shopping basket spilled everywhere. This may not have been so bad had the girl's shopping basket not consisted of toilet paper, sanitary napkins, period pain tablets and a packet of six pairs of panties.

"Dylan will you watch where you are going?" came Mike's authoritative voice, as Sonia glared at Dylan in complete disapproval. 

Mike strode over and held out his hand, helping the stunned Erin to her feet and collecting her glasses. "Are you okay, Erin?"

Erin was slightly breathless as she smoothed down her skirt. "I think so, just a bit stunned."

"I'm really sorry Erin," said Dylan. "Let me help you pick up your shopping." Not realizing what Erin's purchases were, he blindly grabbed two of them and stopped awkwardly when he realized what they were; Erin's toilet paper and her period pads.

"I'll get them," said Erin impatiently, collecting the items and throwing them into her basket with a glare at Dylan. The girl knew Dylan was friends with those morons Kenny and Wayne who embarrassed her in class that time when she had stomach problems.

"I'm sorry about what one of our employees did to you," said Mike, with a glare at Dylan. "To make up for it, how about I issue you with a twenty dollar voucher to use the next time you visit our store?"

Erin smiled. "Thank you Mike, I would really appreciate that."

"It's my pleasure," Mike assured Erin. He turned to Dylan. "You, re-stock the shelves with oatmeal, and try not to drop any of them while you are doing it." With that he escorted Erin over to Sonia's cashier register, laughing and joking with her on the way.

Dylan glowered and sulked as he re-stocked the oatmeal. If only he had gotten the six foot height that Kate had taken away from him, he would be the guy scoring with the girls and playing college football. Never having forgiven Kate for this and the fact that she emerged into the world five minutes earlier, he only hoped that his sister was having a bad day too.

*

One member of Dylan's family who was having a decidedly bad day was Breanna. Gardening was not the teenager's thing; pulling out weeds and shoveling mulch into a wheelbarrow and spreading it onto garden beds. She had made little progress, the main reason for this being the number of cigarette breaks she took, which would have been a problem if she was employed by somebody to do this work. 

Adding to Breanna's boredom, stuck in the suburbs gardening was her high sex drive getting no satisfaction at all for the past day or so. Breanna thought of how much at this very moment she would love to be sucking a dick, before the same dick was shoved deep into her hot, wet cunt or even up her ass and into her rectum. She thought about Isabella, and how great it would be if they were fondling each other in their panties right now, before eating other's pussies and assholes out.

Breanna had tried to call Isabella earlier, but slammed down the phone as soon as it was answered by Isabella's grandmother Connie. This bad-tempered battle-ax hated Breanna with a passion, and she was one of the few people Breanna was actually afraid of. Obviously the evil old bitch had come to stay and sort things out after Issy was arrested the other night. Possibly Isabella had already been chained up in a chastity belt by her witch of a grandmother, or more realistically every aspect of her life was now controlled from when Issy could have a glass of water to when she could pull down her panties and sit on the toilet for a poo, and even how much toilet paper Issy could use to wipe her ass clean.

One way Breanna found to amuse herself occurred when the postman rode by doing his rounds, and was obviously quite interested in the nubile, pretty, blonde teenager gardening in a pair of short shorts and a revealing top, and Breanna put on the teasing act to perfection. The girl bent over, her legs spread wide on the pretext of picking something up, adjusted her panties and allowed her boobs to spill out of her skimpy top and bra even more. 

The postman continued on with great reluctance, sorry to be leaving this great sight. Soon Breanna caught sight of two young males riding skateboards along the road towards the Wilson house, dressed in black tee-shirts and shorts. Breanna sighed. It was Kenny and Wayne, Dylan's two idiot friends. What a pair of fucking retards. Breanna saw the two skulking around like hyenas, eating fried chicken from a bucket, watching her work and trying to make it obvious that they weren't perving on her.

Breanna put on a show for Kenny and Wayne before she became curious about what they were doing hanging around here when Dylan and everyone else was at work. Putting aside the pitch fork she was using to shovel mulch into the barrow, Breanna sauntered over to them, seeing Kenny and Wayne's eyes upon her nubile body as she walked across the road.

"Hey Breanna," said Kenny, trying to sound casual.

"Yeah, hi Breanna," said Wayne, munching on a piece of fried chicken and offering the bucket to Breanna. "You want some fried chicken?"

"Yeah," said Breanna, reaching into the bucket and taking a leg, biting into it and swallowing it, then taking a second bite.

"Can you believe Wayne and I found that in a parking lot?" asked Kenny.

Breanna's face soured and she spat the chicken out of her mouth, throwing the leg onto the road. "That's fucking disgusting, you fucking idiots. What the fuck are you doing, going around getting fucking food that's been dropped in a fucking parking lot? I'm not eating that fucking shit. If I get fucking food poisoning, I'll fucking smash you."

Kenny and Wayne laughed, and Breanna glared at them. "What the fuck are you spastics fucking laughing at? I know you're a pair of loser retards, but what are you doing here in the middle of the fucking day when Dylan and everyone else is at fucking work?"

Wayne and Kenny had no employment, nor were they going onto college in the fall or the local community college to learn any qualifications. This particular Monday the two losers had had a very productive morning, rising at the relatively early time for them at 9.30, reading pornographic magazines for the next hour then meeting up and going out on their skateboards to the farm where they had observed the over-sexed horse trying to mount a cow on the weekend. The big horny horse was in the field again, but this time it had established that it was a member of the equine rather than the bovine family, and was busy mounting and having sex with another horse. However, as the expression 'little things please little minds' firmly applied to Kenny and Wayne, they found this hilarious. Then it was back into town, and finding the bucket of chicken in the car park and out to Dylan's house, hoping he had a half day shift and that he had the photographs of his hot but spoiled New York cousin Madison.

"We thought Dylan was only working half a day today," said Wayne.

"Yeah, sometimes he finishes at one," said Kenny.

"Well, he's not today. Did you think to fucking ask him what hours he was working today, or are you retards who can't tell the fucking time?" asked Breanna.

"Nuh," said Wayne, to which Breanna rolled her eyes in exasperation.

"So you two losers don't have jobs?" Breanna asked.

"Nuh," responded Wayne and Kenny in unison.

"Yeah, who'd be stupid enough to give you fucking jobs?" asked Breanna.

"You don't have a job," said Kenny.

"Yeah, you don't have a job," said Wayne. "Unless you're getting paid for doing the gardening."

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," said Breanna. "My Uncle Bob and Aunt Anna are making me do this fucking shit."

"So, what do you think of your Uncle Bob?" asked Kenny.

Breanna's facial expression became even more aggressive. "He's the world's biggest fuckhead," she sneered bitterly.

Kenny and Wayne laughed like hyenas, Breanna glaring at them. "It's not fucking funny, he gives me the fucking shits."

"What about your Aunt Anna?" asked Wayne.

"She's a fucking bitch, she favors Kate all the time," sneered Breanna.

"I thought you'd really like her," said Wayne. "After all, more than half of your name is her name."

Wayne's accurate observation that 'Anna' formed more than half of Breanna's name was about the most intellectual joke the young man had made in his life. Unfortunately, he had completely the wrong audience to appreciate it.

For Kenny, nothing topped toilet humor. Flatulence was his favored source of amusement, whether accidental such as Crohn's disease sufferer Erin farting in class when she had diarrhea emergency and was asking for the bathroom pass so she could use the toilet, or if the farting was deliberate. Kenny's older brother a few weeks earlier deliberately ate a lethal combination of baked beans, cabbage, eggs, onions, cheese and bran flakes, before going to the library with Kenny and Wayne tagging along to see what was going to happen. Kenny's brother then stood near the library desk and farted as loudly as he possibly could, the sound travelling throughout the building, everyone looking over in silence while Kenny and Wayne collapsed in hysterics. All three were thrown out of and banned from the library, but as none of them liked reading with the exception of pornography it was no great loss.

Urination was another source of amusement to Kenny, such as a senile old man peeing in the fountain in the town's main street to the horror of the man's adult daughter, as was defecation, for example Kenny observing a poodle with explosive diarrhea. Vomiting was also good, a case in point being when Kate was stricken with a sudden migraine and threw up all the way out of the classroom, before somebody found her a bucket to use on her way to the school nurse. When Dylan told Kenny and Wayne that Kate had such bad vomiting with her migraines that she had to insert her medication into her anus rather than swallow it, it was not only amusing but a turn on as well. Kenny spent many nights jerking off over the mental image of Dylan's pretty, fat-bottomed sister pulling down her big cotton panties and inserting migraine medicine up her ass and into her rectum.

Kenny could also gain amusement from home video clip shows, such as a carelessly thrown football knocking a baby out of its pram; a man bending over in front of a ram and it butting him hard up the ass; and a fat lady falling into a stagnant lake. Sometimes Kenny, along with Wayne and Dylan, had found plenty to amuse them in school, for example Bangkok in Thailand during Geography or Charles Dickins' surname in English. Objects that happened to be shaped like penises were always funny. But intellectual comedy? This was not Kenny's thing.

Breanna was intelligent enough to get the joke, but her furious glaring indicated to Wayne that she did not appreciate it. She was increasingly infuriated by these two clowns who would be lucky to get any pussy anywhere anytime, yet at the same time her panties were getting damp as her mind lingered on this thought. She had a teenage snatch that desperately needed to be satisfied, and two desperate, try-hard losers in front of her who no doubt wanted to put their dicks into an 18-year-old girl's pussy and up her ass. It was a perfect trade.

"So, you want something to drink?" asked Breanna.

Kenny and Wayne had finished eating the fried chicken and were thirsty from the greasy, high-calorie food. "Yeah, we'd like a drink," said Wayne.

"Yeah, we'd like a drink too," said Kenny, Breanna sighing in exasperation as she led them inside and poured three glasses of water.

The two dogs, alerted by the newcomers, began barking. Breanna sneered at the dogs. "Ah, shut up!" she ordered.

Kenny and Wayne looked disappointed. "Water, that's all?" asked Wayne.

"Yeah, water's really boring," said Kenny.

"Shut the fuck up about the fucking water, you fucking idiots," said Breanna. "I'm going to make it real easy for you two morons. You're going to come upstairs with me, and fuck the shit out of me."

Wayne and Kenny were both taking drinks and spluttered water everywhere. "What?" exclaimed Kenny, nearly choking.

"You're going to fuck me," said Breanna. "You get to stick your penises into my vagina and have sexual intercourse with me. That's unless you don't want to fuck me, and are a pair of fags who just want to fuck each other. In that case, get the fuck out of here and get me a fucking bucket on the way out so I can throw up, because homos make me fucking sick."

Breanna led the way to the stairs. "Come on, what the fuck are you waiting for? Come on upstairs and fuck me."

Wayne and Kenny looked at each other, hard to believe that this was happening and they were actually awake. A really hot 18-year-old blonde girl was going to let them fuck her. They eagerly followed Breanna upstairs, looking at her perfect ass in her shorts on the way up. Wayne extended his hand and fondled Breanna's bottom, to which she stopped and spun around with a fierce expression.

"Did I say you could touch my ass?" she asked.

"Um, no, but I thought ..." began Wayne.

"That's a first you fucking thinking Wayne," said Breanna. "But hands off, don't fucking touch me until I say so. Get it?"

"Okay," said Wayne, more than a little intimidated by the girl.

"This is where you get to fuck me," said Breanna, leading Wayne and Kenny into her aunt and uncle's bedroom.

"Um, Breanna this is your Uncle Bob and Aunt Anna's bedroom," said Wayne, his fear of Dylan's parents rising in his stomach.

"Yeah, Mr. and Mrs. Wilson wouldn't be happy if we were in here," said Kenny.

"Oh boo-hoo, where are your fucking boy-scout uniforms?" sneered Breanna. She put on an exaggerated wimpy voice to mimic Kenny and Wayne. "This is Mr. and Mrs. Wilson's bedroom. Mr. and Mrs. Wilson wouldn't be happy about us being in here." Breanna glared at Kenny and Wayne, fire flashing in her eyes and spoke in her normal voice. "I don't give a fucking shit that it's Uncle Bob and Aunt Anna's fucking bedroom, okay? I just want dick, and you have dicks. You want pussy, and I have a pussy. Get it, you spastics?"

"Um, okay," said Kenny, like Wayne too afraid to argue with Breanna.

Breanna removed her shoes and cotton socks so that she was barefoot, and sat on the edge of the bed. "This fucking bed is going to get more action than it's seen in a while."

Kenny laughed. "Yeah, I think they've only done it three times."

Breanna and Wayne looked at Kenny. "You mean twice," said Breanna.

"No, three times," Kenny insisted. "They have three kids, John, Kate and Dylan."

"You must have failed biology at school," said Breanna.

"Yeah, I got an F," laughed Kenny.

"It shows. Kate and Dylan are twins, remember?" said Breanna.

"Yeah, so?" Kenny remained clueless, while Wayne sighed in exasperation and Breanna fumed at Kenny's stupidity. How could he not know how twins worked? Still, given the huge differences between the twins, mostly Kate being a foot taller than Dylan and having a big-boned structure over his weedy, skinny frame, Breanna had speculated more than once that their parentage might not be quite the same, especially given that the older brother, John was tall like Kate and they looked alike. 

Perhaps back in 1975, Uncle Bob had fucked Aunt Anna before going to work one morning, the result of this being one of his X-chromosome sperm fertilizing one of her eggs? Then unaware that a baby girl was starting to form inside her uterus and that she had ovulated two eggs that month, Anna still horny for more sex had taken the small statured milkman up into the bedroom. From there, the hot young housewife showed him the time of his life, one of his poor-quality Y-chromosome sperm fertilized the second egg, and this eventually became her loser runt of a cousin Dylan? It was possible and amusing, but unlikely given that Dylan looked like Breanna's father and her brother Dustin, and therefore could only be Bob's biological son.

"Are you getting undressed or are you going to just stand and stare at me?" Breanna demanded. She took off her skimpy top, leaving her wearing a white bra, her tits filling the C-cups.

Breanna watched as Kenny and Wayne took off their shoes and shirts, observing the growing bulges in the front of their shorts. Breanna unfastened her own shorts and pulled them down to the floor, stepping out of them and was now barefoot in her bra and panties.




Trailer Trash Teen Hates Rules Ch. 03



Kenny and Wayne's eyes bulged at the sight of Breanna's white bra and white bikini panties with red hearts on them.

"Cute panties," said Wayne.

"Yeah, your panties are really hot," said Kenny.

"You know what would be hotter?" asked Wayne.

"No, what?" asked Breanna.

"If you wore a thong," said Wayne.

"Yeah, if you were wearing a thong, and we could see your butt, it would be really hot," Kenny asserted.

"Why don't you wear thongs?" asked Wayne.

Breanna smiled. "Come here," she said, beckoning Wayne and Kenny towards her, a direction with which both complied. As they stood next to her, Breanna reached out behind both guys' backs, grabbed both Wayne and Kenny's shorts and underpants, and yanked them up into their groins as hard as she could.

"Ouch, that hurts!" exclaimed Kenny, dismayed by the unexpected wedgie he was receiving.

"Yeah, let go!" whined Wayne, wincing at the uncomfortable feeling of his underpants been pulled up into his ass crack.

Breanna released her grip, and the boys adjusted their underpants under their shorts. She regarded both with a fierce expression. "You asked why I don't wear thongs, that's fucking why. Imagine walking around like that all fucking day with your panties up your crack, and having a vagina instead of a dick. I'm in my panties in front of you, don't fucking complain about them."

Not possessing great imaginations, neither Kenny nor Wayne could think of what life would be like with a vagina and the discomfort a thong might cause a young lady between her legs, so wisely said no more, pulling down their shorts and then their underpants, their erect dicks standing out at angles of about 70 degrees.

The angles of their erections increased to 80 degrees as Breanna reached behind her back, unclipped her bra, and discarded it onto the floor. The boys salivated over the sight of Breanna's teenage tits as the girl stroked and massaged them.

Then Breanna took hold of the elastic waistband of her panties and slid them down, Wayne and Kenny's erections throbbing at the sight of her blonde triangle of pubic hair and courtesy of a mirror reflection, the firm cheeks of Breanna's bare bottom.

Wayne and Kenny's eyes bulged as Breanna lay on the bed, her legs wide open with her toes pointed to the ceiling, the pink lips of her vagina on display. Moving her legs down, Breanna lay flat on her back, her knees spread wide apart, the teenager playing with her tits.

"You can play with my tits too, if you want," said Breanna.

Kenny and Wayne looked at each other, then leaped onto the bed one each side of Breanna, each guy grabbing one of the girl's breasts and massaging them, Breanna's clitoris responding as they touched her nipples. Wayne and Kenny obviously had little experience of this; their hands were clumsy and their handling of her breasts quite rough, but still it got her nice and wet between her legs.

"They feel fucking awesome," Wayne declared, cupping Breanna's right breast and fondling it.

"They like to be licked too," Breanna pointed out.

Wayne and Kenny immediately lowered their heads down to Breanna's boobs, the teenager amazed at their sheer incompetence. Wayne's tongue traversed Breanna's nipple and areole in huge strokes, like he was eating an ice cream cone. Kenny's tongue was nowhere near her other nipple until he suddenly and without warning moved his mouth around her nipple, sucking at it like he was a breastfeeding baby.

"Hey!" snapped Breanna, giving Kenny a smack on the head with her hand. "What the fuck are you doing, you pervert? Didn't your mom breastfeed you when you were a baby or something?"

"Dunno, I don't remember," said Kenny.

"Whatever, but don't ever fucking do that to me or anyone else again, ever," spat Breanna. "Anyway, now it's time for my pussy to get some attention."

Breanna spread her legs wide, and Kenny and Wayne stared at Breanna's wet, pink vagina encircled by blonde pubic hair. Just below her vagina was Breanna's tight anus. "Don't fucking stare at my cunt all day, get the fuck down and fucking lick it. It doesn't bite," she snapped impatiently.

Wayne and Kenny lowered their heads down between Breanna's spread-wide knees. They could smell Breanna's female smell emanating from her wet pussy, and it drove them wild with desire. "Your pussy smells like pussy," Wayne commented.

"Yeah, it smells like pussy," Kenny conferred.

"What the fuck do think my pussy is going to smell like?" demanded Breanna. "Roses? Now, shut up and lick. While you're going down on me, at least you won't be able to fucking talk."

Wayne and Kenny were in awe of the teenager's twat and keen to lick and taste it, so both guys put their heads between Breanna's legs and into her crotch. So eager were the two guys that they bumped heads, then their clumsy tongues moved around her vagina in huge strokes. Breanna sighed at their incompetence, but still tongues on her pussy flaps and her clitoris were better than nothing, and these feelings sent waves of excitement through her box, the teenager flexing and un-flexing her toes in response to the stimulation.

This continued for another few minutes, before Breanna indicated for them to stop, and Kenny and Wayne reluctantly withdrew their heads from her vagina.

"Dude, that was fucking awesome," Wayne commented to Kenny.

Kenny licked Breanna's pussy juice from his lips. "Yeah," he agreed.

"Okay, get on your knees facing me," Breanna ordered, Wayne and Kenny keen to obey. Breanna knelt in the center of them, taking Wayne's dick in her left hand and Kenny's in her right hand, gripping both shafts and extending one of her fingers on each hand to tickle each guy's balls.

"Don't blow it when I do this," Breanna warned them.

"Blow it?" Wayne asked, both he and Kenny looking puzzled.

"Cum, orgasm, ejaculate!" the impatient Breanna snapped angrily. Working both hands in perfect rhythm, Breanna jerked off both guys simultaneously, Kenny and Wayne feeling their cocks buzzing at the teenager's tight grip. This sure beat jerking themselves off over pornography.

Wayne was disappointed and about to protest when Breanna released her grip on his penis, but continued to jerk off Kenny. He soon kept his mouth shut when Breanna lowered her head to his groin, slid his dick into her mouth. He gasped as Breanna's tongue circled around the shaft of his penis, lingering on the head before tracing the veins.

Kenny looked down, envious that Wayne was getting a blow job and he wasn't. "Aren't you going to suck my dick?" he protested.

Breanna went rigid and withdrew her mouth from Wayne's dick. "Just be fucking patient, you moron. I'll get to you soon, okay? For fuck's sake, I've only got one fucking mouth."

Chastened, Kenny fell silent and Breanna resumed her hand job with him, and continued to give fellatio to Wayne. After another minute or so, Breanna changed her position, taking Wayne's dick now wet with her saliva in her hand, and placing Kenny's cock in her mouth. Kenny felt like his cock was going to explode as she blew him, but his fear of Breanna's bad temper if he came too early was enough to prevent him from reaching orgasm in her mouth.

Both Wayne and Kenny felt disappointed when they felt Breanna remove her hand and her mouth from their cocks, but cheered up when Breanna said, "Okay guys, now it's time to fuck the shit out of me." She crawled on her hands and knees across the bed, Kenny and Wayne staring with a complete lack of discretion at Breanna's bare bottom.

Breanna grabbed her purse and took out a packet of condoms and a tube of lubricant. She tossed two condoms encased in their plastic packaging to Kenny and Wayne. "Put these on," she ordered, sitting on the bed with her legs open displaying her naked pussy.

Although about to have sex with a very pretty 18-year-old girl, Wayne and Kenny looked disappointed. They had never seen condoms used in porn before, and thought they wouldn't have to wear them now.

"Condoms?" asked Kenny. "Do we have to wear them?"

"Yes," said Breanna tersely.

"We'll be careful," said Wayne. "We won't get you pregnant."

"Yeah, we won't get you pregnant," Kenny agreed.

"You are wearing condoms when you fuck me, and that's the fucking end of it," said Breanna.

"When was your last period?" asked Wayne. "If you tell us, we can work out if you'll get pregnant."

"Yeah," said Kenny. "If you've just had it, or if you're going to get your period soon you won't get pregnant, and we won't need condoms."

"It is none of your fucking business when my last period was," spat Breanna. "For fuck's sake, I'm going to let you fuck me, and you want to talk about my period? You give me the shits. I sure as fuck don't want to get pregnant to one of you losers, because the fucking kid would be a spastic or a retard for sure. Now shut your fucking stupid mouths and put the fucking condoms on your fucking dicks."

Kenny and Wayne obeyed Breanna without question. "So, what are we going to do?" Wayne asked Breanna. "Are we going to fuck first, then you fuck with Kenny?"

"This is what's going to happen," said Breanna. "You're going to fuck me first in cowgirl position, while Kenny licks my asshole from behind. Then Kenny and I fuck in cowgirl, and you lick my ass. Then, we all screw together."

"We both fuck you at the same time?" asked Wayne. "How do we do that?" His expression was completely perplexed, as was Kenny's.

Again, Breanna became angry and impatient. "How many holes have a got between my legs?" she snapped.

''Three!" Kenny shouted triumphantly.

"Three?" exclaimed Breana, before realizing. "Oh yeah, the place where I piss from, but that's too small to matter." She opened her legs wide and pointed at her vagina first, and then her anus. "See, two perfectly good holes for you to fuck me."

"You mean, we get to fuck your ass?" asked Wayne, trembling in disbelief.

"Yes, I just said so didn't I?" said Breanna.

"Cool!" exclaimed Wayne and Kenny in unison, before their competitive nature kicked in.

"I get to do her ass first!" declared Wayne.

"No, I want to fuck her ass first," countered Kenny.

"Idiots!" spat Breanna. "You can't both fuck me up the ass at the same time, can you? Wayne fucks my ass while Kenny fucks my pussy, and then you change around. Get it?"

Wayne and Kenny stared at Breanna, irritating the girl even further. "What is it?" she snapped angrily.

"Um, don't you need to go to the bathroom first?" asked Wayne. "You know, to sit on the toilet and have a poo?"

"What the fuck are you talking about now?" Breanna demanded.

"I thought if you were going to do anal, you'd have to go for a shit first," said Wayne.

"I don't fucking believe it," said Breanna, her anger levels rising.

Kenny found his voice. "We were reading an interview with a porn actress in a magazine ..."

"You can read, that's a surprise," Breanna cut in.

"Yeah, this porn star said she always sat on the toilet and had a really big poo before she did anal," said Kenny. "So we thought ..."

"Okay, just shut the fuck up, both of you," snapped Breanna. "I'm not going to the bathroom, because I don't fucking need to go. I had a shit this morning after Kate finally got her fat ass off the toilet, and in case you're worried and it's any of your fucking business in the first place, I wiped my ass properly. I'm not a dirty bitch who makes a mess of her panties every time she has a poo. So you pussies can stop being fags, and lick and fuck my ass." She picked up her panties and held them out. "See, no fucking skid marks."

Wayne and Kenny shrugged, accepting what Breanna said part out of fear, and part out of their sexual desires. Both guys simply nodded.

"You, lie down flat on your back," Breanna ordered Wayne. He meekly complied, lying on the bed, his condom-covered cock standing up at a 90 degree angle. Breanna stood over his groin, Kenny kneeling on the bed behind her checking out the cheeks of her bare bottom, while Wayne stared at her pubic hair and pussy.

Breanna lowered her pussy down, took hold of Wayne's dick, and slid it up into the warm, sticky interior of her vagina, the girl gasping as he filled her pussy. Breanna leaned forward allowing her ass cheeks to spread and show her tight anus.

"Now fuck me," said Breanna to Wayne, feeling him push into her pussy, her clitoris tingling and her pussy juice flowing as she rode him cowgirl. The toes on Breanna's bare feet flexed and un-flexed at the sensation. Looking over her shoulder, her facial expression grew irritated again as she saw Kenny staring at her anus with a vacant grin on his face, rather than licking it.

"What are you waiting for, a written invitation?" demanded Breanna. "Go down on my ass, idiot."

Kenny did as he was told, lowering his face to Breanna's bottom as she continued to ride Kenny cowgirl. With Breanna's feminine smell filling his nostrils, Kenny extended his tongue to the teenager's tight, star-fish like opening, and began to lick in huge strokes. He felt his cock throbbing as a realized his tongue was actually licking the anus of a very pretty 18-year-old blonde girl, albeit one he was afraid of.

Breanna could feel Kenny's tongue on her anus and while it felt good, it wasn't great like when Isabella licked her anus while Breanna was fucking a guy, with Breanna returning the favor when they switched positions and Isabella rode the guy's cock, and Breanna went down on Isabella's anus.

"Okay, switch around," said Breanna, withdrawing her vagina from Wayne's cock and ordering Kenny to lie flat on his back. As she had done with Wayne, Breanna stood over him and squatted down to get into cowgirl position, and guiding his cock deep into her cunt and leaning forward so her ass was accessible. 

Wayne, his dick throbbing in the condom all wet and sticky from being in Breanna's snatch, eagerly went down on Breanna's bottom, like Kenny before him enjoying the female smell her vagina was producing as she fucked Kenny, grinding her pussy down as his cock thrust deep inside her, the tip touching the entrance to her birth canal. Wayne's tongue circled and went back and forth across Breanna's anus, with Wayne like Kenny before him unable to believe that his tongue at this very moment was in contact with a very pretty teenage girl's anal area.

As had been the case with Kenny, Breanna was not entirely satisfied with Wayne's attempts at licking her anus, but Isabella was so fucking good at it that was easy to make comparisons. And still, having her asshole licked by one guy while another fucked her, even two clowns like Kenny and Wayne, was better than doing the fucking gardening. That she was doing it on her aunt and uncle's bed made it even hotter.

Breanna kept fucking with Kenny, her tits bouncing up and down, as Wayne licked the entrance to her bowels for another few minutes, the smell of her vagina becoming more noticeable the wetter she got. After a few minutes, she indicated for Wayne to stop licking her ass and Kenny to stop fucking her, and with both guys fearing her temper if they did not do what she said, Wayne immediately withdrew his head from Breanna's bottom and Kenny lay still as she pulled her sticky snatch away from his cock.

Taking the lubricant, Breanna opened her ass cheeks wide and applied a liberal amount to her anus, pushing it deep into her rectum to give her adequate lubrication to receive Wayne's dick up her ass. Kenny and Wayne watched this process with great interest.

"Lie down," Breanna ordered Wayne, who lay down flat on his back, his heart racing as Breanna stood over him, facing the other way from him this time. The pretty blonde teenager lowered her ass down, and reached for Wayne's dick. Her asshole hovering just above his erection, Breanna guided Wayne's penis into her anus and into the hot tight confines of her rectum. It wasn't the first time she had done anal, but being tight in her back passage, she always needed a minute or so to acclimatize to having her bowels stuffed, and put aside the feeling of needing to go to the toilet.

Leaning back against Wayne, his dick going further and further into her rectum, Breanna got comfortable, but just as she did so, he unexpectedly thrust deep into her, causing her to yelp like a dog and nearly jump off him and into the ceiling.

"What the fuck?" she snapped. "Don't do that when I'm not ready, you fucking dickhead. It's tight up there, I need to adjust, okay?" She shook her head in frustration.

"Sorry," apologized Wayne, hoping Breanna would not withdraw her favors and kick him out. He found it had to believe his dick was up the ass of a pretty 18-year-old girl, and he did not want it to end prematurely. 

Fortunately for Wayne, but unfortunately for Breanna's patience and tolerance levels, she soon found somebody else to be angry at. While getting comfortable, Breanna had spread her legs wide, showing off her vagina and pubic hair. The sight of a pretty teenager's pussy spread wide, her feminine smell filling his nostrils was too much for Kenny and he jumped on top of her, eager to stuff her snatch.

"Get the fuck off me until I fucking tell you!" snapped Breanna, giving Kenny a slap on his forehead. "Fuck, I need time to get into position and then you fucking mount me? Give me a fucking break, and don't go up me until I fucking say so, okay?"

Breathing heavily, Breanna finally felt comfortable with one penis up her anus to take another one up her vagina. While she had been in a threesome with two guys before, she had never done double penetration, her previous experience being fucking one guy while his friend watched and jerked off, then switching around when the first guy came.

"Okay, now you can fuck my cunt," said Breanna, spreading her legs wider her bare feet wide apart. Kenny climbed on top of Breanna and thrust deep into her fragrant vagina and now Breanna was sandwiched between two guys, one up her front bottom, and the other up her back bottom.

"Slow at first," Breanna warned as the two guys began to thrust her, sending the most amazing waves of pleasure through her body. Having both holes stuffed was beyond belief. Breanna was aware that both places were quite close and a sensation from one area could be felt in another. Sometimes when she was sitting on the toilet with her panties around her ankles having a poo and her bowels needed extra stimulation, Breanna would stick two fingers up her vagina and massage at the back, and the effect would be immediate. Likewise, while Breanna usually wore napkins to catch her menstrual flow during her periods, the times she used tampons and needed to take a shit it was always uncomfortable for her when she was pooing on the toilet with the tampon inserted. But being double-penetrated up her cunt and her ass was beyond pleasure, even if the two guys were complete morons.

As for Kenny and Wayne, they could not believe the heat she generated inside her body, the guys feeling how hot the interior of Breanna's vagina and her rectum were even through the condoms. 

"Fuck yes, fuck that's great, fuck me more, don't be pussies," Breanna urged, her legs trembling, her toes curling and uncurling. She was sweating heavily, and with Wayne and Kenny also sweating, Breanna was drenched. She could have remained in this positon until she came, but remembered her promise to let both guys get a turn at her ass, and arranged to change position.

Kenny was desperate to stick his cock up Breanna's ass so lay down on his back immediately, but Breanna's attention was captured by Wayne. He was standing waiting to fuck her pussy when Kenny had got up her ass, still wearing the condom that he had used to fuck her anally, and getting ready to insert it into her vagina. This lack of common-sense immediately raised Breanna's anger levels.

"Wayne, for fuck's sake change that condom!" snapped Breanna.




Trailer Trash Teen Hates Rules Ch. 03



Wayne looked blankly at her. "Why?"

"Because Einstein, it was up my fucking ass and got covered in germs, and you are not putting it up my cunt," fumed Breanna. "Jesus fucking Christ, can't you think for your fucking self?"

"Why doesn't Kenny have to change his condom?" Wayne protested.

"Because, his went up my pussy and that's okay. It's not okay for it to be up my ass, and then my pussy. Now change that fucking condom!"

Wayne was too afraid to debate this any further with Breanna and removed the condom from his erect penis, replacing it with a new one. On the bed, Breanna lowered her bottom down until her anus was just above Kenny's dick, then slowly guided it up her ass, again feeling like she needed to use the toilet until her rectum became acclimatized to a new cock filling it, before Kenny pushed up all the way into her bowels.

With Kenny's dick securely up her anus, Breanna again opened her legs wide to show off her pubic hair and her vagina to Wayne, who quickly got on top of her and pushed his cock deep into her sticky pink box. "Now, we fuck until we all cum," said Breanna. 

While Wayne plowed her pussy, Breanna's vaginal juices flowing, Kenny pushed up into her bowels, Breanna gasping with delight at the waves of pleasure flowing from both of her holes. The trio of teenagers became more breathless and sweaty as they continued their threesome, Breanna swearing and gasping from time to time. Again, both guys marveled at how hot the interior of Breanna's vagina and anus were, even though they were wearing condoms.

It was Wayne on top who came first, his body stiffening and him yelling out "Fuck!" as his cock ejaculated a wave of sticky white semen into the condom, sweat pouring from his forehead as he remained inside her. Breanna rotated her hips as she felt the first feeling of orgasm approaching from her vagina, but as the tingling sensations from her clitoris became stronger and intensified to one feeling, something felt very wrong in her anus. The feeling of Kenny's cock filling her bowels had changed from when he was first up her, but before she could say anything, her orgasm came and left her speechless.

A wave of sticky pussy juice flowed from her snatch and her legs kicked out at the feelings spreading through her vagina and into her bowels, the normal feeling of orgasm replaced by the intensity of having her rectum filled with a dick. Gasping and breathless as the orgasm swept through her entire body, Breanna could still feel Kenny fucking her asshole before he went rigid as his orgasm arrived.

It was as Kenny came that Breanna knew for certain something had gone very wrong. In her rectum, she felt a hot rush of sticky liquid spraying deep into her bowels. "Oh shit!" she exclaimed. Both guys remained firmly inside her vagina and anus, recovering from the most intense orgasms of their lives. "Get the fuck out of me!" she demanded angrily.

The clueless Wayne withdrew from Breanna's vagina and stood up, removing the semen-filled, sticky condom from his dick. Breanna lifted her ass from Kenny's dick, and immediately saw the problem. The condom had split wide open during coitus, and rather than capturing Kenny's semen, it had squirted deep up her back passage filling her bowels with sticky cum.

"You fucking idiot!" Breanna spat at Kenny, pointing at his cock. "The fucking condom split, and you came up my ass! Didn't you feel the fucking thing break?"

"I didn't feel anything," said Kenny. "Oh wait, it did feel a bit hotter towards the end."

"Of course it did, you were up my asshole with a split condom!" yelled Breanna.

"Why are you so angry?" Wayne asked.

"I'm angry Wayne because my butt is full of your faggot friend's cum, and it feels fucking gross," complained Breanna. "Fucking hell, how stupid are you Kenny?"

Fuming, Breanna grabbed her bra and put it on, then pulled up her panties. "You had better go, if you know what's fucking good for you," she warned them, putting on her skimpy top, feeling the warm cum up her back passage as she looked for her denim shorts.

Before Breanna had a chance to put on her shorts, the feelings in her bowels turned to one of urgency, and her stomach rumbled. Kenny had sprayed so much semen into her bowels that the effect was similar to her having an enema. But while an enema would have consisted of nice warm soapy water that would have allowed her to empty her bowels comfortably, the cum that filled Breanna's back passage was sticky, and her rectum was also filled with lubricant.

While Wayne and Kenny were not the sort of people one would take advice from, their advice to Breanna about using the toilet before having anal sex would prove to be very sound. On an average day, Breanna went to the toilet to have a poo about three times; once in the morning, once in the afternoon and once in the evening. Her bowels stimulated by the girl having anal sex, Breanna's bodily wastes moved down her digestive system at a more rapid rate.

Finally, Breanna was about to suffer a massive stroke of bad luck. Kenny and Wayne's decision to pick up an abandoned bucket of fried chicken on a warm summer's day and eat the contents was a very bad idea, but neither boy was noted for his good judgement. Wayne and Kenny had devoured all of the greasy chicken, Breanna just one mouthful. Unfortunately, the only piece of chicken to contain unsafe bacteria was the one Breanna had eaten; every piece of Kenny and Wayne's chicken was fine. It was a classic situation of one person getting food poisoning where the rest of the group are fine. And now, Breanna's body was fighting the bacteria in the classic way; with a mass evacuation of her bowels.

Breanna winced as her stomach cramped, and a burning feeling travelled down her digestive system into her bowels and to her rectum. Breanna stopped herself from farting just in time, and doubled over with another massive stomach cramp, panic filling her face.

"I've got to go!" she yelled, turning and running for the adjoining bathroom as fast as her bare feet would carry her, her butt cheeks clenched together to prevent making a terrible mess of herself on the way there. 

"Go where?" Kenny called after her.

"To the toilet, where else do you think you fucking idiot?" yelled Breanna as she slammed the bathroom door closed, nearly slipping on the tiled floor in her desperation to reach the toilet in time.

Pulling down her panties to her ankles, Breanna sat down on the toilet, her anus responding immediately, the teenager farting loudly three times, the sounds echoing in the toilet bowl as her stomach continued to cramp. Breanna's toes clenched on the tiled floor as she felt her poo rushing through her bowels, into her rectum, her anus opened fully with another loud fart and it happened. Breanna's diarrhea, mixed up with Kenny's cum and the lubricant, gushed out of her anus with an almighty rush. The diarrhea went everywhere in the white porcelain toilet bowl, and no sooner had the first wave came out, Breanna farted again and more of the teenager's diarrhea joined the rest of her poo in the toilet.

Clutching her tummy, feeling how messy and sticky she was around her anus Breanna gathered her breath, unwound some toilet paper and wiped her dirty bottom, reaching for a second piece immediately. The smell that had emerged from her bowels was dreadful, the worst she had ever smelled and she had sat on the toilet in the next stall from Isabella when her best friend had been eating spicy food. No guy had ever cum up Breanna's bottom before, not that she intended it to happen now, and the teenager was now quickly learning that combining a girl's poo and a guy's cum produces one of the worst smells known to man.

Breanna got a third length of toilet paper, repositioning herself on the toilet seat but even as she wiped her bottom felt another rush of diarrhea in her bowels and farted directly onto the toilet paper. Breanna hastily dropped the smelly, soiled tissue into the bowl and moved her hand out of danger, before even more diarrhea went into the toilet just seconds later.

Outside the closed bathroom door, toilet-humor lovers Kenny and Wayne, still naked, listened to the sounds from within with amazement, laughing at the sounds of Breanna farting on the toilet, and her diarrhea splashing into the bowl. 

When they heard Breanna advancing the toilet roll for the fifth time, Wayne and Kenny decided it would be best to check if she was okay and knocked on the bathroom door.

Inside the bathroom, Breanna sat on the toilet staring down at her panties. She started to pee, her bladder reacting to having vaginal sex as it often did. This caused her anal muscles to relax and even more diarrhea poured out of her anus. She jumped at the unexpected knock on the door. "What the fuck is it?" she snapped.

"Um, Breanna, are you okay in there?" asked Wayne.

"Do I fucking sound okay?" demanded Breanna.

"No, you sounded really gross, farting so much and then having diarrhea," Kenny said.

"Yeah, why are you farting like that?" Wayne wanted.

"Oh will you both just fuck off away from the door, and leave me to have some fucking privacy?" yelled Breanna, again getting some toilet paper to wipe herself.

Fortunately for their own safety, Wayne and Kenny obeyed Breanna's order and the girl was able to finally finish on the toilet when her diarrhea attack subsided. Getting toilet paper to finish cleaning herself up, Breanna stood up off the toilet with unsteady legs and pulled up her panties. She pushed the button on the cistern to flush the toilet, and walked over to the sink to wash her hands, cursing Wayne and Kenny under her breath.

Slamming open the bathroom door, Breanna gave Kenny and Wayne a murderous glare with her blue eyes as she emerged and strode on her bare feet to pick up and pull on her shorts. "You fucking idiots!" she spat at them, her voice full of venom.

"What did we do?" Wayne wanted to know.

"You gave me that fucking chicken, and then Kenny sprayed cum up my ass when he broke the fucking condom!" yelled Breanna.

"It wasn't my fault," protested Kenny.

"Who else broke the fucking condom?" screeched Breanna.

"And we're okay after eating the chicken," Wayne pointed out.

Breanna's toilet smell had by now drifted into the bedroom, Wayne and Kenny laughing and behaving with their complete lack of maturity and discretion. "Fuck Breanna that really stinks!" exclaimed Wayne, fanning his hand under his nose.

"Yeah, it really fucking stinks," agreed Kenny. "Why is your poo so smelly?"

"Of course it stinks because I have diarrhea. And it's both your faults," snapped Breanna, rage trembling through her slim figure.

"Do you have Crohn's disease?" Kenny asked.

"What?" snapped the increasingly angry Breanna. 

"Do you have Crohn's disease?" asked Wayne. "It's this thing that causes you to fart and get the shits a lot. There was this girl at high school called Erin who had it, and one day she farted in class ..."

"I don't fucking care!" shouted Breanna, her face red with rage. "I've had enough of you two fucking idiots. Get dressed, and get the fuck out of here! Go on, get lost!"

Under Breanna's withering glare, Kenny and Wayne dressed. "Come on," she snapped angrily. "Can't you dress your fucking selves? Do you have to get dressed in the mornings by your mommies? Get a fucking move on."

When Wayne and Kenny dressed, the angry Breanna escorted them downstairs to the back door. "You idiots will never get to fuck me again after you came up my ass and gave me the shits, and you'll never get any more pussy in your fucking useless lives. Now get lost!"

Wayne and Kenny ambled away as Breanna slammed the door shut. "We fucked a hot chick's pussy and ass!" Wayne announced to Kenny.

"Dude!" exclaimed Kenny. He and Wayne exchanged high-fives, before riding away on their skateboards.

Inside, the fuming Breanna cleaned up her aunt and uncle's bedroom, opening the windows to air the room so the smell of Breanna's aroused vagina and her poo dissipated. She threw the condoms into a plastic bag, and hid these in the outside trash. 

On her way back upstairs, she felt her stomach churn again, and once more had to rush for the bathroom, this time the main one, sitting down on the toilet with seconds to spare before her bowels released another tidal wave of diarrhea into the bowl. Breanna cursed Wayne and Kenny as she got toilet paper and wiped her anus.

Throughout the afternoon, Breanna had two more similar diarrhea attacks, and by the time Anna returned late in the afternoon, she found her niece lying on her stomach on the couch in the living room watching television, her legs at a ninety degree angle, swinging her bare feet back and forth.

Anna, less than impressed having seen the results of Breanna's gardening at her parents' house across the road, was irritated. "Breanna, what happened to my parents' garden? You made very little progress, and you've left all the tools out."

Breanna spat angrily. "I have diarrhea, okay?" There was no way she was expanding on the circumstances that led to her getting diarrhea.

"Well young lady, if you have diarrhea then you will eat dry toast and have water for your dinner tonight," said Anna.

Breanna sighed bad-temperedly, as Kate returned from work. Dylan had gotten his wish; Kate had had a very bad day. After dropping Dylan off at work, the peeved Kate driving too fast had attracted the attention of the police, but the young male officers, taken by the teenager's pretty face and big boobs, had let her off with a warning. Still, Kate had been less than impressed by this being observed by her former classmate Megan Delaney and Megan's condescending mother Morag, the mother and daughter passing by on their way to work.

Kate's summer job was at a home supplies company, where she worked on a casual basis, but never in the main office. Because of the police, Kate was late for her first day. Then her computer got stuck in DOS, and would not progress until the computer guy fixed it for her. To Kate's dismay the font was green characters on black background, which strained her eyes. Changing the fax machine roll, Kate dropped the paper and it unwound down the corridor. Driving the takings to the bank, Kate was pleased to be served by Samantha, but there was little the ever-helpful Samantha could do about two checks that were unsigned, and a credit card sales voucher where the credit card number was not clear, so the bank deposit had to go back to the office to be corrected.

Still peeved about Breanna bothering her in the bathroom that morning, Kate had assumed she would get some privacy when she went into the ladies room at work, to empty her bowels and change her period pad. Sitting on the toilet with her skirt hitched around her waist and her panties around her ankles behind the closed and locked cubicle door, Kate thought she would finally get some privacy but quickly found out that a nervous woman who worked in the office, Gladys, was boundary challenged.

Gladys had stood with the external door open, reminding Kate of the afternoon deadlines for the data processing. The teenager, a length of toilet paper in her fingers about to wipe her bottom, could not believe her bad luck. The printer paper not aligning between the blue and white lines and further errors in the data caused Kate more annoyance in the afternoon, and she was glad to return home.

Going upstairs, Kate undressed in her bedroom, putting on a comfortable tee-shirt and her patched jeans, walking barefoot along the hallway and making a stop in the bathroom. Sitting on the toilet with her patched jeans and panties around her ankles, her bare feet poking out from under the hems of her jeans, Kate thought maybe this time, she would be allowed to sit on the toilet and poo in peace and privacy.

Downstairs, Breanna vaguely heard Kate close and lock the bathroom door on the second floor. "Is she going to the toilet again?" Breanna thought to herself, and went upstairs to investigate. Sure enough, the door was closed and she could hear Kate advancing the toilet roll and rustling the toilet paper as she wiped her bottom, the sound repeated a few seconds later.

Breanna was tempted to knock on the door to scare Kate, but resisted the urge. She walked downstairs thinking about how often Kate went to the toilet, this turning into a plan as to how she could exact revenge upon her cousin for this morning.

Although Breanna found no humor in any toilet mishaps that befell her, such as getting diarrhea after having anal sex like today, toilet pranks played upon other people were a major source of amusement and fun to her. One time, she had taken a black tack that matched the color of the toilet seat and stuck it to it with tape. Soon, her father's scream of agony was heard through the trailer as he sat down on the toilet and the tack pierced his left buttock, sending him flying off the seat and smashing his head on the door. 

Another time her mother had been having too much to drink with her trashy trailer park friends. Anticipating what would happen, Breanna put cling-wrap over the toilet and sure enough when Rosanne went to throw up her vomit splashed right back into her face.

Dustin likewise had copped it a few times. One time Dustin was standing there having a piss, and Breanna had bashed on the door, scaring him and causing him to piss all over the toilet and walls, as well as peeing his jeans. Another time, Dustin was actually doing something practical - cleaning the toilet - when Breanna snuck up behind him, shoved his head into the toilet bowl and flushed it.

The prank that would catch Kate was one she and Isabella had played at school. Toilet paper was a scarce and valuable commodity in the poorly maintained girls' bathroom, girls who needed to poo often having difficulty finding a toilet cubicle with enough paper. Often Breanna and Isabella had to get nearly empty toilet rolls out of each stall and pool them together so they would have enough toilet paper. It was far worse when it was that time of the month. So when Breanna and Isabella placed into three toilet stalls fake toilet rolls that didn't tear, it didn't take long for three girls to go in there and finding three stalls with full rolls of paper, choose them. The result was as intended; three 18-year-old girls stranded on the toilets they had sat on with dirty bottoms and toilet paper that would not tear. Now, the same fate would befall her cousin when Kate sat her fat ass down on the toilet sometime in the next few days.

The sound of Kate flushing the toilet could be heard upstairs, before Kate's bare feet descended the staircase and she dutifully helped her mother prepare dinner. Breanna shook her head. What a goody-two shoes her cousin was. Breanna looked at the time on the VCR. Still a few hours to go until her aunt and uncle had their evening take a direction none could have anticipated.

After Bob, John and Dylan returned from work, it was time for dinner. Breanna, stuck eating dry toast and water did not envy the meal the rest of the family was eating; stew and vegetables. With dinner over and everything tidied up Kate and Dylan sat watching television, while John was on the phone to Samantha, something Breanna regarded with contempt. "How many times in one day can you talk to the precious love of your life, John?" she thought.

Kate was sitting on the couch, with her legs tucked underneath. Due to her height, Kate's bare feet occupied the seat on the couch next to her. Despite having a spare seat at the other end of the couch, Breanna, getting impatient for what she was anticipating and subsequently cranky, attempted to push Kate's feet away from that seat.

"Don't do that," snapped Kate, just as cranky after a bad day that started with Breanna bothering her in the bathroom.




Trailer Trash Teen Hates Rules Ch. 04



INTRODUCTION & DISCLAIMER - Please enjoy your trip back in time to 1994 as you read the fourth installment of kinky sexual comedy "Trailer Trash Teen Hates Rules". In this chapter, can Breanna make amendments to her former teacher for whom she made life a living hell when she was at high school?

This story contains strong language and adult themes, with coarse humor both sexual and non-sexual. Only characters aged 18 and over engage in sexual activity, and all characters and situations are fictional. Any similarity to real persons living or dead is coincidental and unintentional.

*****

Breanna's punishment for impersonating her Aunt Anna and inviting swingers to the house and the fight with her cousin Kate was washing every glass, plate, dish, bowl and item of cutlery in the house. This took until well into the evening, and Breanna overslept the next morning, until her aunt ordered her awake.

Kate had long gone by this time, stopping at the gymnasium for a fitness class before. With an essential part of her college education being her field hockey scholarship, Kate needed to maintain her fitness over the summer. John also had left early. He needed to drive out further into the country to visit some farming clients.

The absence of Kate prevented her and Breanna fighting over the toilet like the previous day, and Breanna used the toilet and took a shower without major drama. However, Breanna would have created a major drama had she known what Dylan was up to in the downstairs room she was using as a bedroom.

Feeding the cats and dogs, and alone on the first floor with his nubile cousin naked under the shower upstairs, Dylan took his chance and snuck into Breanna's room. No searching was required; his slutty cousin had simply discarded her panties from yesterday onto the floor, the white cotton bikini panties with hearts on them. 

With trembling fingers Dylan picked up Breanna's panties, fondling the soft white cotton in his fingers and imagining them covering his cousin's pubic hair, vagina and her firm bottom. He examined the saddle. Breanna's panties were pretty dirty. In the crotch, there was a small yellow stain courtesy of some stray drops of urine and some bigger, dried, creamy pussy stains over the cotton that would have rested against Breanna's vagina. Breanna must have been really horny to make such a mess of her panties, Dylan thought. Of course he had no idea that his friends Wayne and Kenny had nailed her pussy and ass yesterday.

His erection growing harder and harder, Dylan raised Breanna's panties to his nose, absorbing her feminine smell with deep sniffs. The musty smell of his cousin's cunt going deep into his nostrils, Dylan could feel his dick throbbing. He moved his nose to the back of the panties, sniffing the cotton that would have rested against Breanna's anus during the previous day.

Dylan wanted to jerk off more than anything now, but time and practicality were problems. Reluctantly, Dylan returned Breanna's panties to the floor and reflected on all of the girls' panties he had sniffed. In the months since he turned 18, he seemed to be presented with endless opportunities to sniff the panties of pretty girls. There were his sister's friends; beautiful blonde Polish girl Andrea, black beauty Sonia, cute studious Asian girl Penny, pretty red-haired Irish-American Bridget and the stunning Italian-American Katrina. 

Then there was the school wilderness camp, where the perverted little pest had gotten into his hot gym teacher Jessica Adams' tent and sniffed the pretty teacher's panties when she had gone into the woods with a roll of toilet paper in one hand and a spade in the other. Closer to home, Dylan had sniffed his cousin Holly's panties on many occasions, doing the same to his hot Aunt Kirsty's panties and pantyhose when opportunities presented themselves. Then of course there was his spoiled rich New York cousin Madison, where stealing a pair the hot blonde teenager's panties on the recent camping trip was the jewel in the crown of his voyeurism.

About the only hot girl Dylan was in regular contact with whom he had not sniffed the panties of was John's girlfriend Samantha. Dylan knew how protective John was with his childhood sweetheart, which he could understand given Samantha was sick in her pre-teen years and the difficulties presented by her severely handicapped brother. John was protective although not possessive of Samantha with the two having a mature, trusting and well-balanced relationship but if anybody hurt Samantha then watch out. Dylan knew that if his brother caught him with Samantha's underwear, John would kick his ass so hard that Dylan would probably find himself in London or the South African city of Cape Town when he landed.

So while Dylan would engage in voyeurism with Samantha if an opportunity presented itself, such as sneaking a glance at her panties if she crossed or uncrossed her legs while wearing a dress or skirt and her undies came into view; looking at her cleavage; admiring her ass in her stirrup pants when she had been working out; fantasizing about her sitting on the toilet with her panties around her ankles or naked under the shower when Samantha used the bathroom while visiting their house; and jerking off in bed at night over his fantasies about Samantha's bank teller uniform, her panties were safe from his voyeurism.

His erection still throbbing but fortunately with nobody to see it but the dogs and cats, Dylan went and got some cereal and sat at the kitchen table. As he ate, Dylan thought about the smells of each vagina of the women whose panties he had sniffed; Andrea, Sonia, Penny, Katrina, Bridget, Jessica, Kirsty, Holly, Madison and now Breanna.

Fantasizing about the feminine smells of his voyeurism targets did not help his erection subside, nor did the sight of Breanna appearing in the kitchen in a black heavy metal tee-shirt and jeans so tight that they must have cut deep into her crotch, pushing her panties up into her cunt. As usual her feet were bare.

"Hi Breanna," said Dylan.

Breanna glowered at him. "What's so fucking good about it?" she grumbled. To Dylan, it was clear that Breanna was not a morning person, so he said nothing more.

Dylan's erection only subsided when his mother and father, still clearly in bad moods over Breanna's practical joke with the swingers last night, entered the kitchen to have breakfast. Anna sharply reprimanded Dylan for his failure to drop off the negatives from the camping trip to be developed at the one hour photo booth, saying he had one thing to do and how could he forget it? Then the grumpy Bob had words with Dylan about how John and Kate were doing productive things with their lives, and how Dylan had wasted his time hanging out with his moron friends Kenny and Wayne, rather than studying and training hard like his twin sister or getting a good job and studying part time at community college like both John and Samantha.

By the time Dylan made his way out of the house to catch his bus to work after heavy criticism from both of his parents, his penis had contracted in size so much it was like he had been swimming in the Baltic sea in the middle of January.

*

When Bob and Anna left for work Breanna, now wearing sneakers, was left to resume the gardening from yesterday at Anna's parents' house. Her house-key confiscated for her prank and causing the fight with Kate, Breanna now had to ask Anna's elderly parents Alice and Tom for permission to get a drink, or use their bathroom.

Breanna fumed at doing something that now topped her list of the many things the sulky teenager despised; gardening. She saw Anna's parents inside, drinking their coffee and reading their newspapers and wondered why they didn't do their own fucking gardening. That Alice and Tom worked hard on the family farm, now run by their eldest son for many years, raising three boys and three girls in the process, and now was the time for them to relax in retirement, did not occur to the recalcitrant teenager.

They constantly looked down upon her. When Breanna took her first cigarette break, squatting down inhaling the smoke, tar and nicotine into her lungs, she saw them staring at her through the window complaining about 'proper up-bringing'. Her pussy-cutting jeans made gardening uncomfortable. By just 10 o'clock, Breanna had had enough of this shit, and the rules enforced by her aunt and uncle.

Neither of her Aunt Anna's parents were looking outside as Breanna downed tools and walked off the job, collecting her purse and cigarettes on the way. Even if they had seen her and challenged her about it, what the fuck were they going to do about it?

Breanna walked down the street to the bus stop, intending to catch a bus into the main part of town, then catch a second bus back to her part of town where she belonged to spend the day. She would have to come back in the afternoon, but spending some time in her own territory than spending the day in suburban hell.

On the way past one house, two women were trying to get their small children organized for a car trip, the mothers handing small lollipops to the toddlers to keep them quiet and occupied. With the two women occupied with getting a baby into the car, the passing Breanna set her eyes on a lollipop held by a boy of about three, which he had not licked as yet.

With quiet footsteps and nimble fingers, Breanna slid by and gently relieved him of the lollipop, before walking casually down the road, hearing the voice of one of the women behind her. "Matthew, where is your lollipop? I'm sure I gave you one with the other kids." She looked at the other mother with a puzzled expression. "Maybe I didn't, I'll get him another one." The mother reached into her bag and collected a replacement lollipop.

Breanna laughed and sucked vigorously on the sweet, orange flavor as she waited at the bus stop. The larceny of a lollipop was fairly minor in Breanna's catalogue of kleptomania. Her shoplifting career began when she was a little girl with thieving food, mainly candy. She would still steal candy if she felt like it, but the items she stole now mainly consisted of alcohol, cigarettes, marijuana, clothing, spray-paint to be used for graffiti, electronic goods and cash. One night a few months ago she and Isabella had knowingly gone for a ride in a stolen car with the guys who took it. Breanna and Isabella had taken it in turns to have a drive, screaming around the corners at dangerous speeds. However, the act of stealing the lollipop from a small child gave her so much pleasure this morning. It was like the old adage of taking candy from a baby.

*

At the bank in town, Samantha as always looked a picture of pretty perfection in her teller uniform, the beautiful strawberry blonde serving customers with a friendly smile. Guys in particular loved to be served by the beautiful, friendly and helpful Samantha, who always made a point of keeping her sunny personality to the fore, even if like today things weren't going so great for her.

Like most cancer survivors, Samantha tried to look forward and not behind, but it was impossible for her to forget completely. Some things were deliberate, for example she actively supported a cancer charity, wanting to repay the support given to her and her family during that time. Other times something random would set off a memory. Samantha could no longer stomach tuna fish, as tuna mornay was the evening meal that was served to the kids in the oncology ward the first time she had chemotherapy. The smell alone of tuna from that point onwards made her sick to her stomach. And this morning, the customers she served reminded her of the good, bad and ugly aspects of her battle against cancer.

Her first customer was a man who wore a tee-shirt proclaiming he had seen Halley's Comet in 1986, these shirts very popular at the time. It brought back a touching memory of something nice John had done for her one night. Samantha had had a bad day confined to bed rest at home after a chemotherapy session earlier in the week, the side-effects of the treatment playing havoc with her digestive system. In addition, her muscles were tired to the point that walking across the hall to the bathroom and back made her feel like she had run a marathon. To top things off, the girl felt one minute like she was in the Sahara desert wearing winter clothes, the next like she was in mid-winter Greenland wearing summer clothes. 

As Samantha lay in bed sick, nauseous, sore and tired that evening, John and his dad arrived for a quick visit, John carrying a small telescope. Opening the curtains and plumping up the pillows so Samantha could sit up in bed, John had directed Samantha in looking through the telescope in the cold, dark, starlit Pennsylvania night and through the lens, she had seen the blue comet in the sky so far away. This memory always raised her spirits, especially now given she and John were engaged, not that anybody else knew this yet.

The bad was the next customer, a lady who had a small son aged about three and a baby daughter. Samantha was dismayed to see that the boy had no hair at all on his head. Seeing the boy also reminded her of the children's oncology ward in Philadelphia. Diagnosed herself at age 11, Samantha and the other older kids were at least able to understand what was going on, but felt terrible for the really little kids who couldn't understand. However, there was an unexpected twist this morning that brought Samantha relief and amusement. The boy had complained that his head was itchy, and the mother replied that it served him right after cutting off all his hair while pretending to be a barber.

The ugly was the skinny, blonde, middle-aged woman Samantha was serving at this very moment, a Mrs. Hayes. She had clearly not wanted to be served by Samantha, and was horrified when Samantha pressed her buzzer and light to call her to her desk, and nobody was behind her to trade places with. She stood as far away from Samantha as far as she could, not looking at her, fretting that this teller was the one handling her pass book and the bills she was paying.

Samantha's first encounter with Mrs. Hayes, who at the time was new in town and had a son in the same year as Samantha, had taken place soon after Samantha returned to school after her second round of chemotherapy. She was keen to return to her friends when well enough following surgery and starting chemo, and a plan was worked out with her parents, principal, teacher, doctors and the school nurse so Samantha could attend school when well enough between treatments and receive all the support, comfort and privacy she needed. At this stage, Samantha's long hair had not fallen, so apart from always having a bottle of water at her desk to ease her thirst and being allowed to carry a purse containing everything she might need, she did not stand out as different from the other kids, all of whom were delighted to see her back.

Then one morning, as the class was doing math, the fretting figure of Mrs. Hayes, burst in through the door, breathing heavily and on the verge of tears, her face a mask of stress. Her son sank down in his chair, horrified. Without introducing herself, the woman had yelled across the classroom, "I hear that there is a girl with cancer who is allowed to be in this class. Where is she?"

The other kids' eyes subconsciously drifted towards Samantha giving her away, and the woman had gone into her tirade, often pointing at Samantha while doing so, despite the best efforts of the middle-aged, female teacher to gain control. Why was a child undergoing cancer treatments allowed at the school, when the treatments were so dangerous to the other children? If the sick girl must be at school, why wasn't she sat to one side in the classroom away from the normal children? What if the sick child vomited; what procedures were in place to decontaminate the school? Did the girl with cancer handle the same objects, drink from the same water fountain and use the same bathroom facilities as the healthy kids, and was she allowed in the cafeteria where food was prepared and served? 

The woman was making such a racket that the principal was alerted, and he and his deputy managed to get Mrs. Hayes, sobbing uncontrollably, out of the classroom and up the hall to the office. The school nurse and her class teacher took Samantha, shell-shocked like the rest of the kids, to the sick bay in case she was upset. As Samantha sat on the bed she was unsure if she should laugh or cry, but decided on the former, as the woman's behavior was so ridiculous all one could do was laugh. Samantha was certain that if she told people this story in years to come, they would never believe her because it was too unrealistic that any adult could be that ignorant, tactless and insensitive. 

Later, Mrs. Hayes' mortified son apologized about his mother to Samantha, saying his mom was a neurotic hypochondriac who among other things refused to use a microwave oven due to radiation risk, and also refused to go to New Jersey as Three Mile Island was there.

It was clear from the way the woman was acting now that she thought Samantha still posed some kind of biochemical risk to her despite the passage of nearly nine years, that Samantha had grown into a fit and healthy young woman and that there was never any danger to anyone else anyway. When finished, Mrs. Hayes quickly collected her things and almost ran for the front door. "Have a nice day," Samantha smiled, keeping up her polite, professional demeanor.

The next person in the queue was somebody far more pleasant; Kate, the girl who would become her sister. Samantha pressed her buzzer and light and Kate approached the counter with the bank deposit.

"Hi Samantha," smiled Kate. She was enjoying Tuesday far better than she had Monday, and always liked talking with Samantha. From an early age, Samantha had often accompanied the Wilson family on outings such as picnics, her parents giving her a break from the trials of her autistic brother. To Kate, Samantha was like the big sister she had never had. Kate had noticed Mrs. Hayes and remembered the debacle at school years earlier given the fourth and fifth grade classes were just along the hall from the sixth grade, but decided it was best not to say anything.

"Hi Kate," said Samantha. Kate was also like a sister to her; with Chris's problems she had never had a sibling to interact with properly. Her ever-friendly smile on her pretty face, Samantha joked, "I hope your cashier hasn't set me another interesting puzzle for today?"

Kate laughed. "No, I think everything should be fine today."

"I haven't spoken to John today," said Samantha as she went through the checks. "Is everything okay at your house after last night?"

Kate gave a wry smile and shook her head. "One word, Breanna."

"Breanna." Samantha shook her head. "How long is she staying with you?"

"A couple of weeks so Mom and Dad were saying," said Kate. "But every day is a day too long where my cousins are concerned. First Madison on the camping trip in the Pine Barrens, then Breanna comes to stay at our house. I wish it was Holly that was staying with us, but Holly is normal so there wouldn't be any need for that."

"What does Breanna do all day when you're all at work?" asked Samantha.

"She's supposed to be working on Grandma and Grandpa's garden," said Kate. "But I hate to think how that is going."

"I don't think it's going at all," said Samantha, looking over Kate's shoulder, indicating for Kate to look out of the door. Kate turned and outside the main doors of the bank stood Breanna, dressed in her black heavy metal tee-shirt and ultra-tight jeans. Having finished the lollipop, Breanna threw the stick onto the ground and reached into her purse for her cigarettes and lighter. Lighting one up, Breanna continued on her way, blowing smoke everywhere as she sucked in the nicotine.




Trailer Trash Teen Hates Rules Ch. 04



Kate sighed. "I don't want to get involved. I didn't see her. I didn't see anything."

Samantha likewise did not want to get involved. "I didn't see anything either," she said, as she counted the notes and coins.

*

Breanna boarded the bus that led back to her own side of town, and soon she was back where she belonged; the wrong side of the tracks. She did not make for the trailer park; if her mom or dad or brother Dustin saw her, they would tell her aunt or uncle for sure and she would have to put up with even more shit.

Instead, Breanna disembarked the bus at the stop outside the housing project where Isabella lived and stood looking at the bleak, red-brick, three-floor apartment buildings. Breanna was unsure if Isabella's mother Maria, the mother's shithead loser boyfriend Carlos and Isabella's strict grandmother were there, so was careful not to be seen. Sneaking up the gray, concrete stairs to the second floor, Breanna pondered how she could gain Issy's attention without the others seeing her.

Any planning Breanna had done immediately went out of the window as she heard the sounds of a heated argument in Spanish from Isabella's mother's apartment. Violent and heated domestic arguments were hardly uncommon in the housing project, and the Ramirez family were known for screaming at each other at the tops of their voices.

The three yelling inside the apartment were all female, and the youngest-sounding voice - that of Isabella - came closer and closer as she approached the front door. Breanna quickly looked for a place to hide, and to her relief saw a mobile dumpster. This had been winched up the previous day to assist workmen with cleaning out a nearby apartment that the evicted tenants had absolutely trashed, leaving piles of rotting garbage everywhere. The workmen were away having a cigarette break, so Breanna hid behind the dumpster un-noticed.

The door to the Ramirez family burst open and the slim, swarthy figure of Isabella burst out. The teenager was dressed in a black tee-shirt and a black mini-skirt that was so short it was impossible for Breanna not to see Isabella's apricot-colored panties as she flounced along, cursing and swearing in Spanish.

From behind Isabella emerged the formidable figure of her grandmother Connie Ramirez. The evil old witch was appropriately dressed all in black, her gray hair in a tight bun and an angry, sour expression on her face. Last to emerge were Isabella's mother Maria and Maria's creep of a boyfriend Carlos. Maria, who at the age of 38 looked like an older version of her daughter, wore jeans as tight as those Breanna was wearing, and a skimpy white blouse that showed off her mid-riff, her tits hanging out and the straps of her bra visible. Carlos wore a filthy sleeveless shirt and shorts and smoked a cigarette.

Connie Ramirez barked an order in Spanish to her granddaughter. Isabella turned and stood facing her grandmother, arms folded, nostrils flaring in anger and yelled back at her, again in Spanish. What Breanna was witness to was something akin to a very bad Latin American soap opera, as the grandmother, mother and daughter screeched at each other at the tops of their voices, pointing and gesturing. Carlos stood back watching the shouting match in amusement, smoking his cigarette.

After Isabella screamed some insult directly into her grandmother's face, it was clear that the older woman's patience - limited at best - had expired. She grabbed Isabella and dragged the struggling teenager over to the concrete bench opposite their apartment. The grandmother then sat down, and pulling Isabella over her knee, lifted her granddaughter's skirt to expose her apricot-colored, bikini-style panties and delivered four hard smacks with her open hand to Isabella's panty-covered bottom, before releasing her from her grasp and pointing at the apartment.

Isabella, her face red from the fury and indignity of being spanked at the age of 18, stormed for the apartment cursing under her breath, shaking her head with rage, rubbing her sore buttocks through her mini-skirt. She slammed the door shut after storming back inside.

Breanna thought to herself from watching this scene that if anybody tried to spank her she would punch them in the face. While Breanna thought that the age of 18 was too old for corporal punishment, she soon found that in Connie Ramirez's book, no age was too old for a spanking.

Connie began yelling at Isabella's mother, Maria arguing back to her. To Breanna's utter amazement, Connie grabbed her 38-year-old daughter, turned her around and spanked Maria's bottom four times with her open hand hard and fast, the sounds echoing in the dismal concrete and red brick of the housing projects. Connie then pointed at the apartment door. Although Maria's punishment would have hurt less, given her bottom was spanked through jeans and panties while Isabella was spanked through her panties only, the woman clutched her painful buttocks as she walked back inside, like her teenage daughter trembling with rage and indignation.

Carlos, who had now finished his cigarette seemed to have enjoyed the scene, this both amusing and entertaining him as well as him seeing his girlfriend's teenage daughter's panties as her bottom got spanked. However, Connie Ramirez now rounded upon him, and Breanna could only assume it had something to do with the state of his clothes. The older woman won the argument by delivering a slap to Carlos's forehead, then he too like Maria and Isabella was ordered back inside. As he reached the door, Connie delivered him a hard kick to his buttocks, before pushing him inside, then Connie closed the door behind herself to bring the curtain down on this interesting play about how to resolve conflict in families.

Getting out from behind the dumpster, it was obvious that Breanna and Isabella were going to have no fun together today. Breanna walked down the concrete stairs, passing the workmen on the way, who with a lack of discretion observed the shape of her breasts through her tee-shirt, and the curves of Breanna's bottom in her tight jeans.

Breanna walked down the road, hoping she could get a chance to sneak away with Isabella soon. Not only did she miss her friend's company, she missed the Sapphic fun they could get up to, either alone or with a guy. Breanna also pondered what had happened to Rocky, who had fucked both her and Isabella so well the other night. He seemed to have vanished from the face of the Earth after the rave, and he lived too far away for her to walk there.

On her way to the main street in her part of town, intending to visit the joke store to buy fake toilet paper to prank Kate, Breanna had to pass the local motel. This was a cheap, run-down establishment populated by some odd types and where strange things happened day and night, things that people observed but never spoke of.

Looking into the motel car park, Breanna's interest was roused by a very worried and stressed man aged in his early forties. The slim, unassuming man, with his thinning light brown hair, glasses and drab beige shirt and matching trousers and shoes was fumbling around for something in the trunk of his car, his anxiety clear. He was not the type of man to normally attract Breanna's interest, but she knew this man well, and he knew her very well too. With a smile on her face, Breanna lit up a cigarette, turned and walked into the motel car park.

*

The man who Breanna was approaching was named Keith Cockburn, a former high school teacher of both Breanna and Isabella, as well as their friends and relatives. Mr. Cockburn's name, although obviously pronounced 'Co-burn' rather than 'Cock-burn', by spelling alone attracted much hilarity and ridicule by his students. The problem might not have been as bad had Mr. Cockburn been a cool teacher who taught a cool subject, or if he was a teacher at a good school where students took their studies seriously.

Unfortunately, Mr. Cockburn was not cool. The subject that he taught - mathematics - was not cool. And he most definitely did not teach at a good school. Anarchy reigned supreme at the combined junior high and high school that he taught at in the bad side of town, and Mr. Cockburn bore the full brunt of it. Even in the summer there was no escape, he had to teach summer school classes. Mr. Cockburn had long aspired to transferring to the good high school on the good side of town, or teaching at the local community college. But every time he applied, the response letter was always the same, 'Dear Mr. Cockburn, we regret to inform you that you have been unsuccessful on this occasion ...' 

So much did the desire for a transfer burn with the man that on weekends he would drive out to the good high school and the community college and stare at them, wishing he was going to work there instead of the awful school that was his place of employment and it seemed would always be. This very morning, Mr. Cockburn had learned that a vacant math teacher position at the good school had been filled by a young, hot-shot male graduate teacher just out of college.

Fumbling with a box, Mr. Cockburn dropped the contents - a number of text books - onto the ground. "Damn it," he muttered under his breath, kneeling down to pick up the books. As he did so, a shadow loomed over his shoulder. A young female figure, long hair with a nice body, smoking a cigarette.

Startled, Mr. Cockburn turned around. The man's eyes went wide and his face filled with horror at the young blonde female casting the shadow. Of the many current and former students who caused him the frequent nightmares that plagued his dreams, this girl - Breanna Wilson - topped the list. With her side-kick, that nasty and promiscuous young Latina girl Isabella she was one of the worst pupils he had ever taught. The only consolation in his miserable life in recent times was that the girl and her bitch of a friend had both turned 18 and finally left high school at the end of the school year. While both often played truant, they seemed to make a point of always turning up for math, just to cause trouble along with the other awful kids who populated the class. On a good day, his math class would throw paper and text books at each other; on a bad day, they would throw desks and chairs at each other.

"Oh my God, it's you!" gasped Mr. Cockburn, his horrified expression still etched upon his face. "What are you doing here?"

Breanna took a drag on her cigarette. "Hi Mr. Cockburn, it's nice to see you."

"Do me a favor and stay the hell away from me," snapped Mr. Cockburn, grabbing the box, locking his car and making for his motel room.

The teenager took another puff on her cigarette, before discarding the butt onto the ground. She put a smile on her face as she followed him. "What, can't I say hello to one of my favorite teachers? I never cut one of your classes, remember?"

"I wish you had cut my classes," said Mr. Cockburn bitterly. "Math was one huge joke for you. If you hadn't been in the class, perhaps the others might actually have learned something."

"I made the class fun," smirked Breanna. "Math is boring and useless."

"Boring and useless?" demanded Mr. Cockburn.

"Yeah, when the fuck do you ever use algebra, trigonometry, Pythagoras and quadratic equations?" asked Breanna. "Like I said, all I did was make the class fun."

"Fun?" asked Mr. Cockburn, glaring at Breanna. "It wasn't fun the day you stole a hydrogen filled balloon from the science room, and exploded it in class."

Breanna's giggling indicated that she thought this was fun, and her former teacher's expression grew even more frustrated. "It also wasn't funny last semester when that woman came into my classroom to confront you after you slept with her husband, and it ended up in an all-in brawl!"

"That wasn't my fault, I didn't ask her to come to school to fight me," snapped Breanna.

"But you started it after what you did with her husband, didn't you?" snapped Mr. Cockburn. "Just 18-years-old, and already a home wrecker."

"You sound very bitter about it," said Breanna.

"I have good reason to be bitter," said Mr. Cockburn. "Look at where I live now!" Mr. Cockburn gestured at the motel. "And it's all your fault my marriage is over."

"All my fault?" demanded Breanna. "I didn't have an affair with you or your wife, did I?"

"Do you have any idea how much stress your antics put me under?" asked Mr. Cockburn. "Even simple things, like when you had a female emergency just before Christmas last year. All you had to do was ask for the lavatory pass. You didn't have to yell out across the class that your period was a day early, and blood was pouring out of your vagina and you needed to attach a pad to your panties!"

Mr. Cockburn shouted the last words, attracting the attention of a shady looking couple passing by, who regarded him like he was either insane or a pervert, or perhaps both. He blushed bright red and looked at the ground.

"I'm an 18-year-old girl, so newsflash, I get periods every month," said Breanna.

"But I didn't need to know that, and the class didn't need to know that," responded Mr. Cockburn peevishly. "Then there was the charming pornographic magazine left in my desk, what was it called? Oh yes, Sapphic Sweethearts. Do you know how bad that looked when the principal saw it?"

Breanna laughed, as she was indeed the one responsible for this prank. Mr. Cockburn continued. "Then there was the dog shit all over my car."

"Hey, that wasn't me," said Breanna defensively. "I never covered your car in dog shit."

"But you know who did do it, don't you?" demanded Mr. Cockburn.

Breanna suppressed laughter. This prank had occurred the year earlier, and was the work of her brother Dustin and his friends. They had collected as much dog shit as they could find over a two days, and smeared it all over Mr. Cockburn's car. Breanna's involvement in this was standing watch while her brother and his friends defaced the teacher's car, one of the few times she and Dustin had cooperated as sister and brother.

"And speaking of my car, I know you were behind the pair of panties that were put in there where my wife found them," said Mr. Cockburn.

"That wasn't me either," said Breanna. This was a half-truth. The panties were indeed not hers, but Isabella's, the girl absolutely creaming them in bed one night when having a rare female wet dream. The panties were getting worn, the elastic in the waistband flimsy and causing them to slide down when wearing them, so the devious 18-year-old had taken them to school with a prank in mind. Breanna had used a wire clothes hanger to break into Mr. Cockburn's car, and Isabella's dirty panties were placed in the front of the car.

"It doesn't matter now," said Mr. Cockburn. "It took me a week to convince Trisha that I knew nothing of the panties, and in the end it was all for nothing. Do you think that after what you and your friends put me through, that I could be a good husband and meet her needs when I got home? Trisha sure didn't think so, so I live here in this dump after Trisha kicked me out. Now, Trisha shares our marital bed with my 25-year-old cousin Todd in the house I pay the mortgage on. She has served divorce papers, and is working with her attorney to make sure I pay maximum alimony and child support, while losing every asset I worked hard to pay for and seeing my sons for access visits as little as possible. Thank you, thank you very much."

"I guess we really fucked you over," said Breanna, a rare feeling of guilt sweeping over her.

"Yes, you did," said Mr. Cockburn. He turned and headed towards the door of his motel unit. "Now do me a favor, get lost and don't ever bother me again. You've finished high school, so the one good thing is that I never have to put up with you anymore."

"So you're going to sit and stew in your own bitterness all afternoon instead of being a man and doing something about it?" Breanna challenged.

"What are you talking about now?" Mr. Cockburn asked, wiping sweat from his brow.

"Your ex-wife kicked you out of your house in the nice part of town so now you live in a shithole motel and pay for the house where your cousin fucks her in the bed you shared," said Breanna. "You hate your job, you don't get to see your sons, and your wife and her lawyer are going to fuck you up in the divorce court. I can't get you your marriage back or a better job, but I can help you feel better."

Mr. Cockburn laughed bitterly. "You make me feel better? That's a joke. How can you make me feel better?"

Breanna pointed at her female area through her jeans. "With my vagina."

Horror crossed Mr. Cockburn's face as a group of two male and two female junkies passed by and like the shady couple earlier, regarded the older man like he was a pervert who chased after teenage girls. Mr. Cockburn grabbed Breanna by her arm and dragged her into his motel room, slamming the door closed. "Don't ever say that," he gasped. "I am your teacher, you are my student. It is totally inappropriate." He went to open the door. "Now please leave."

Breanna stopped Mr. Cockburn from opening the door with a mischievous grin on her face. "Now, a few months ago that would have been correct. But I've left school now, I'm 18-years-old, you're getting a divorce and we're just two consenting adults. You can fuck me as much as you like, and there's not a goddamn fucking thing anybody can do about it." She stroked her breasts through her black tee-shirt, before turning so she was side-on to Mr. Cockburn. With her left hand, she stroked her crotch through her tight jeans, and with her right, caressed the cheeks of her bottom.

The girl could see by the older man's expression that he had taken the bait. Now it was time to reel him in. Sitting down on the bed, Breanna removed her sneakers and socks so she was barefoot, before lying back on the cover, opening her legs wide, wriggling her toes.

Mr. Cockburn watched this display while breathing heavily. Still nervous he stammered, "No, it would be better if you left."

"Come and sit with me," said Breanna, sitting barefoot on the bed, patting the cover and indicating for her former teacher to join her, which he did somewhat nervously and reluctantly.

Breanna put a coy expression on her pretty face, and looked directly at Mr. Cockburn. "Now let me explain what is going to happen at your house today. Trisha is going to go about her day without a care in the world, knowing that you're paying all her bills and that she'll get all your money when you divorce. You won't get to spend any time with your sons and when your cousin gets home, he is going to fuck the shit out of your wife. Now if I was you, and an easy blonde 18-year-old girl was going to let me have her pussy, I know what I would do, just to get some revenge."

The girl could see that she had nearly landed her catch, and to seal the deal, she climbed up onto his lap and sat on his knee, rubbing her bare feet up and down his legs through his beige trousers. The man offered no resistance to her advances, and when Breanna lightly brushed her hand against his groin, Mr. Cockburn's erection was obvious. Breanna giggled and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "I think you're getting excited now." She put her arm around him, and this time kissed him on the lips, pushing her tongue into his mouth. Mr. Cockburn disliked the taste of her cigarette smoking that lingered, but the fact that he was kissing a hot blonde girl soon overcame this. Even before the day he came home to find his things out in the rain and his wife ordering him to leave, he and Trisha had not been intimate as husband and wife for close to a year.

After making out for a minute, Breanna feeling the tingling between her legs as the light blue bikini panties she wore became damp on the saddle from her aroused vagina. She withdrew her mouth from his and purred, "Let me make this really good for you. Do you have any sexy fantasies or fetishes that you only did with your wife, or that you've never told anyone about, not even your wife? If you tell me, I'll do them with you."




Trailer Trash Teen Hates Rules Ch. 04



Mr. Cockburn's breathed heavily. He did indeed have a secret sexual fetish, one so private he had never shared with anyone, not even his ex-wife. He had jacked off about the fetish for years, more frequently recently when his marriage turned to crap. He did not trust this girl for obvious reasons, but if she was willing to do what he desired most ...

Finding his voice, Mr. Cockburn stammered. "Really, you're serious?"

"I wouldn't have said it if I wasn't serious," said Breanna. "As long as it's not something sick and fucked up like necrophilia or bestiality, because then I'd get the fuck out of here and call the cops."

"No, no nothing like that," said Mr. Cockburn, still working up the courage to reveal his most intimate secret sexual fantasy to Breanna.

"Well come on, don't be shy," said Breanna. "I won't laugh, or tell anyone, cross my heart."

Mr. Cockburn took a deep breath to gain his courage and began to speak. "When I was 18, just graduated from high school, my family went on a vacation to the Jersey Shore in the summer. One morning, my older sister Judy and our cousin Karen - she was 18 like me - went for a long walk along the beach early in the morning. It was hot that morning, really hot and I was wearing shorts, so I took off my shirt and jumped in for a swim. The girls stayed on the beach. It was nice in the water, but then I felt this sharp burning pain on my chest, I screamed and looked down and saw the jellyfish."

Breanna was unimpressed by the story so far, and could not believe how a stinging jellyfish could feature in somebody's sexual fantasy. "So, a jellyfish stung you?" she asked in disbelief, not knowing where the fuck this was leading.

Mr. Cockburn nodded. "Yes, and I was in agony. I ran out of the water and collapsed on the sand, so bad was the pain. Judy ran off to get help, and Karen stayed with me. She looked at where it had stung me, and said that what she was going to do would help. Karen got me to lie on my back and said what she was going to do would help me. Then she took off her shorts and her panties, squatted over my chest, and started to pee all over the jellyfish sting. It really helped, and even though Karen is my cousin, she is so pretty and I couldn't help looking at her um, ah ..." 

Mr. Cockburn's voice trailed off as he thought of the suitable term to describe his pretty blonde cousin Karen's genitals, before he stammered, "Female area. When Karen finished peeing on me I felt a lot better, but I couldn't get the image of Karen half naked and urinating out of my mind. Since then I've always wanted a pretty girl to pee on me - minus the jellyfish sting of course - but I could never say anything."

"Wow," said Breanna. "So, do you jerk off over your cousin and other girls pissing on you?"

The man nodded, with a guilty expression etched on his permanently worried face. "Yes, it's always been my secret fantasy. I often used to listen to Trisha when she was sitting on the toilet, and wishing she was peeing on me instead. And whenever I saw Karen at family get-togethers - she's married with three kids now - I would listen to Karen peeing when she went to the bathroom to use the toilet, and remember that day on the beach all those years ago ..."

"So, you'd like me to pee on you?" asked Breanna.

Mr. Cockburn nodded shyly. "That's unless you really don't want to."

"Well, I've never peed on anyone before, but yeah I'm good for it," said Breanna. "Its lucky you said, because I actually need to pee right now. I was going to ask if I could use your bathroom before we had sex, but now I don't need to."

Breanna stood up and held out her hand to Mr. Cockburn. She smiled seductively. "Come on then, let's go into the bathroom and I'll piss all over you."

"You're sure?" asked Mr. Cockburn, his breathing heavy, the man unable to believe this was actually going to happen.

"Yeah, I just said so didn't I?" said Breanna, impatience beginning to creep into her voice. "Now come on." She took her former teacher by the hand, and led the way into the bathroom, Mr. Cockburn feeling his groin throbbing. The slim figure of Breanna Wilson had always been his nightmare, but now observing the pretty blonde teenager from behind in her black tee-shirt and ultra-tight jeans as she walked on her bare feet into the bathroom, she was anything but a nightmare.

"How about you get undressed down to your undies and lie on your back on the floor?" Breanna suggested. "Then it will be just like that time at the beach with your cousin."

Mr. Cockburn hastily removed his shoes and socks, then his beige skirt and finally his beige trousers, leaving him standing in a pair of blue boxers, the front standing out like a flag-pole.

Breanna giggled. "You aren't getting excited by one of your students I hope, are you Mr. Cockburn?"

"My former student, Breanna," the man reminded her. "Maybe it's better that you call me Keith?"

"No, Mr. Cockburn works better for me," said Breanna. "Its way hotter, and anyway you don't look like a Keith. Most people look like their names, but for some reason you don't."

Mr. Cockburn shrugged, accepting what Breanna was saying without question, and too busy anticipating what was going to happen next.

"Now lie down like I said, flat on your back," said Breanna.

The man complied with the instruction, lying flat on his back on the cold, tiled bathroom floor while barefoot blonde Breanna stood over him. The teenager unfastened her tight jeans, pulling the denim down to reveal the light blue bikini panties she was wearing before removing them altogether, her shapely legs now bare. When Breanna hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her panties, Mr. Cockburn's eyes widened at the sight of Breanna's pubic mound with its curls of blonde hair as she pulled down her light blue bikini briefs, stepping out of them as they reached her bare feet.

Breanna's pretty pink vagina was in Mr. Cockburn's sight as the girl, now naked from the waist down and wearing only her black tee-shirt over her bra, picked up her panties and placed them down to one side. Breanna straddled Mr. Cockburn, one bare foot on each side of his torso, and began to squat down.

For a second, Mr. Cockburn felt like he was a heart attack as his eyes took in the pretty blonde squatting down over him, her blonde triangle of pubic hair and pink vagina visible, as was her anus just below her vulva. Seeing Breanna's genitals exposed reminded him of his cousin Karen at the beach all those years ago; like Breanna blonde-haired Karen had a healthy triangle of blonde pubic hair over her snatch, and the two girls even shared vaginas of the same shape and colors. Looking at Breanna's starfish-shaped anus, Mr. Cockburn remembered that Karen's anus had the same shape as Breanna's. Mr. Cockburn's penis throbbed, the man feeling that he had somehow travelled back through time to the Jersey Shore beach, and his cousin was squatting over his chest about to piss all over the jellyfish sting.

"Here it comes," giggled Breanna as she relaxed her bladder, and felt relief as the flow of urine began to flow out of her urethra, her pee stream flowing onto her former teacher's chest, the yellow liquid running all over his torso and onto the floor.

His cock throbbing in delight, Mr. Cockburn stared at Breanna's snatch as she urinated. He could feel the teenager's hot piss as at cascaded all over his chest, and the smell of the girl's urine filled his nostrils. He could remember the smell of Karen's urine through the fresh New Jersey sea air all those years ago, and Mr. Cockburn's memory thought back to his experiences of his wife's urine.

His ex-wife Trisha when using the toilet during the night would only flush when she had a poo or when she was on her period, otherwise she would leave it until the morning to minimize on noise and water use. Getting up in the morning, Mr. Cockburn would stare into the toilet bowl at his wife's yellow urine, fantasizing how great it would be if Trisha peed on him. He would often check Trisha's dirty panties in the hamper, and if his wife had left any small yellow splash stains in the crotch of her panties, Keith Cockburn's nose would inhale every molecule of scent from her dried piss. Having given birth to two babies, Trisha's bladder control had not been as strong as it had been when she was younger.

Breanna's steady stream of urine began to subside, and the rest came out in big splashes before abating, just a few drops from Breanna's wet pussy dripping from her. Mr. Cockburn, soaked with the urine of the beautiful barefoot blonde squatting over his chest with her pussy and pubic hair in full view, still found it hard to believe that this had actually happened. It must all be dream, the man told himself, one of those many erotic dreams he had about his cousin or another hot girl peeing on him.

When he did not awaken, all Mr. Cockburn could stammer was, "Wow."

"Wow indeed," said Breanna, still straddling her former teacher with her wet snatch on full display. "And now you get to do something just as good." Breanna stood up and reached for the tissue box, pulling one out. Breanna held out the square of peach-peach colored tissue to Mr. Cockburn and again squatted down as she had before, legs wide apart. "Now wipe me dry," she said.

"Are you sure?" asked Mr. Cockburn.

"Yeah, now do it," ordered Breanna.

With trembling fingers, Mr. Cockburn took the tissue and looked at Breanna's wet vaginal area, the pubic hair nearest her urethra clearly soaked. Reaching out tentatively, Mr. Cockburn applied the soft tissue to Breanna's vagina, circling it around between her pussy flaps and absorbing the remaining urine and a healthy dose of pussy juice too. The man thought that lying on the floor, soaked with the pee of a nubile blonde girl who still squatted over him showing off her pussy things couldn't get any better, but wiping Breanna's vulva dry made things even more wonderful.

Removing the damp and sticky tissue from Breanna's crotch, the teenager said, "You know you want to smell it, I know you want to smell it and I want you to smell it, so go ahead."

Breathing heavily, Mr. Cockburn raised the saturated peach-colored tissue to his nostrils and absorbed the smell which to him was heaven; a beautiful blonde girl's pee and the musty feminine smell of her pussy. Finally he put the tissue to one side and Breanna stood up, the girl removing her black tee-shirt, leaving her wearing only her light blue bra, the teenager's tits looking most inviting as they filled the cups. 

"I think you'd better have a shower before we fuck," said Breanna, reaching behind her back and unclasping and removing her bra, Mr. Cockburn trembling as her C-cup breasts came into sight for the first time. 

Still covered in Breanna's piss, he got to his feet and the urine run down his stomach and legs as he removed his underpants and stepped out of them, his throbbing erection standing at 90 degrees. A grin on her face, Breanna teased her former teacher's penis with her seductive hands. "I'll make your shower fun," she promised. "Because I'm going to get in there with you."

Getting a washcloth, Breanna moved it around the floor with one of her bare feet to clean up her pee from the tiles, before she turned on the shower. Mr. Cockburn removed his underpants, Breanna staring at the older man's throbbing erection, before Breanna jumped under the warm water, holding out her hand for Mr. Cockburn to join her.

The teacher wasted no time in getting into the shower with his former pupil, embracing the nubile blonde as water cascaded down her slim body, soaking her breasts and pubic hair and at the back the firm cheeks of her bare bottom, before they French-kissed under the shower.

"Let's get each other nice and soapy," said Breanna, taking the bar and lathering up the soap, before applying it to Mr. Cockburn's groin, the girl's expert hands rubbing soap over his erect penis and his testicles, Breanna massaging his balls as she rinsed them.

"You are so good at that," gasped Mr. Cockburn, wondering if the girl might give him a heart attack.

"See, I'm not completely useless, am I?" asked Breanna. She handed him the bar of soap. "Now it's your turn. First my tits, then my butt and finally my cunt."

Mr. Cockburn eagerly lathered up the soap in his hands and massaged it into Breanna's breasts. His groin throbbed as he could feel the teenager's firm tits in his hands, her nipples hard thanks to her arousal. Taking his hands off her boobs for a second, he cupped them under the shower to get warm water and rinsed off the soap, teasing the teenager with gentle strokes to her nipples in the process, causing her to giggle and squirm.

Breanna turned around and the teacher feasted his eyes on the firm cheeks of his former student's bare bottom. Again getting soap, Mr. Cockburn rubbed the bar over Breanna's ass, getting them nicely lathered and bubbly, feeling the firm flesh in his hands before washing it away, the soap flowing down the back of the teenager's shapely legs to her bare feet and onto the shower floor and away down the drain. 

"Don't you forget my pussy," giggled Breanna.

"Don't worry, I'm saving the best to last," said Mr. Cockburn. 

He turned his attention to Breanna's crotch, applying a liberal dose of soap to her triangle of pubic hair, the blonde curls covered in white suds and bubbles. Then extending his hands further between her legs, Mr. Cockburn felt his heart racing as his fingers made contact with Breanna's vulva, applying soap to her vagina and washing the girl's pussy with great enthusiasm. 

Breanna's bare toes clenched and unclenched on the shower floor at the feeling of the man's fingers in her cunt, his digits stroking her flaps, inside her vagina and lingering on her clitoris. Then to her delight, she felt Mr. Cockburn's fingers on her bare bottom, working their way into her ass crack and touching her tight little anus. Breanna let out a squeal of delight at both her pussy and asshole being fingered at the same time, and Mr. Cockburn noticed even through the water and soap more of the girl's pussy juice getting on his fingers.

"I'm guessing you like that?" asked Mr. Cockburn.

"You guess right," said Breanna. "Why don't you put your finger up my asshole a bit further? That's really hot."

Without delay, Mr. Cockburn began to ease his left index finger into Breanna's anus and up into her bowels. He could feel how hot the interior of the teenager's rectum was, and as he continued to finger her clitoris with the other hand, Breanna thought she would lose her balance, so much were her legs shaking.

After a few minutes of fingering Breanna's box and ass, the girl indicated for him to stop and Mr. Cockburn withdrew his fingers from between her legs. "I'm going to blow your fucking brains out," Breanna promised him, before getting down on her knees, Mr. Cockburn's erect penis in her face. Stroking his cock and tickling his balls, Breanna then opened her mouth and inserted his penis inside to begin fellatio. 

The teenager felt her pussy tingling as she sucked his dick, Mr. Cockburn feeling he was floating on a cloud as Breanna's tongue circled the head of his penis and traced along the shaft, the girl blowing him fast at times, slowing it down to be more sensual at others. Fearing he was about to cum, Mr. Cockburn was about to stop her but Breanna had realized herself before then and withdrew her mouth. The girl stood up and turned off the shower.

Stepping out onto the bath mat, Mr. Cockburn and Breanna dried each other off with the same towel, rubbing the cotton over each other's bodies. "I think we've got a towel rack ready-made," laughed Breanna, indicating Mr. Cockburn's throbbing erection. 

The older man laughed, before Breanna discarded the towel and the naked blonde led him into the bedroom after collecting her panties, Mr. Cockburn admiring the wonderful sight of her bare bottom. 

"You need to wear a little protection unless you want to be paying child support for another kid in nine months' time," she said, reaching into her purse. "But while I do that, why don't you have a smell of what you'll be fucking in a few minutes?" 

The teenager held out her blue cotton panties and Mr. Cockburn took them in his fingers, raising them to his nose and sniffing the double-cotton of the saddle, absorbing Breanna's musty and inviting and feminine smell into his nostrils. As he sniffed her panties, Breanna unwrapped a condom and with expert fingers, sensually slid it onto his cock.

The condom secured, Breanna threw herself back onto the bed, lying naked on her back, her legs together and her triangle of pubic hair and bare breasts exposed. "So, what's your favorite position?" she asked.

Mr. Cockburn placed Breanna's panties down on the bed. "Missionary," he said.

"Missionary it is then," said Breanna. The girl opened her legs wide, showing off her pink, oval-shaped vagina below her pubic hair, Breanna's box wet and sticky with anticipation. Mr. Cockburn stared at the feminine delight that was available, feeling weak at the knees as he got onto the bed with her, staring at her pussy, Breanna's legs so wide that he could see her tight anus just below her vulva. The feminine smell of Breanna's aroused pussy was filling his nostrils as he got closer to the pretty blonde, and got into position over her.

Pushing his cock deep into Breanna's vagina, Mr. Cockburn could feel how hot her wet pussy was even through the condom. Breanna gasped as his cock filled her. "That feels fucking great," she said. "Now go for it, fuck my cunt. I want you to fuck the shit out of me."

In the past, Mr. Cockburn was exasperated by Breanna's foul mouth at school, but now that he had his dick buried deep in her cooch it turned him on. He kissed the pretty blonde on her mouth, again not enjoying the taste of her incessant cigarette smoking but loving the hot interior of her mouth as their tongues intertwined.

Mr. Cockburn thrust his penis deep into Breanna's vagina, the teenager gasping and the toes of her bare feet curling up at the great sensation. The man pulled backwards then pushed forward again, Breanna thrusting her hips forward to meet the thrust, both of them gasping this time as the worked into the rhythm that would give them maximum pleasure, Breanna thrusting her pussy forward as Mr. Cockburn pushed his cock deep inside her. The teenager wrapped her legs around the older man, rubbing her bare feet back and forth along his back as they screwed, both sweating heavily.

Lying on her back in the motel room, her legs apart, her former teacher's dick deep up her cunt as he fucked her, Breanna could not believe what was happening. Mr. Cockburn was such a wimp, easy prey to the antics of Breanna and her friends as they turned their old high school from a place of learning to a place of anarchy, yet he was screwing her so good even in the standard missionary position.

As the man continued to pump her pussy hard for the next few minutes, her vagina like a sticky tap with a broken washer, Breanna felt her orgasm approach. The teenager gasped, going rigid as the tingling in her clitoris and rock-hard nipples turned into one wave of pleasure, spreading through her box and into her anus and rectum, the feeling travelling up into her bowels.

Breanna's fingered and toes clenched. "Fuck, yes fuck my cunt!" she squealed as her orgasm spread through her entire body, leaving her breathless and gasping, sweat pouring off her forehead. "Keep going, keep fucking me hard!" she urged Mr. Cockburn who readily complied, feeling close to orgasm himself.

It took just one more minute of Mr. Cockburn plowing Breanna's pussy for the man to reach his own orgasm. The warm feeling of climaxing while making love, absent from his marriage when he and Trisha hit the rocks came over the man, and he could feel his heart racing, pushing through his chest. His balls tightened, and deep inside Breanna's box his throbbing penis sprayed a tidal wave of sticky white semen into the condom to conclude his orgasm.




Trailer Trash Teen Hates Rules Ch. 05



INTRODUCTION & DISCLAIMER - Bob Wilson wants his trashy, trailer park niece Breanna to learn the value of hard work and arranges for her to do some intern work. Breanna does indeed have a busy day, but hardly what her Uncle Bob had in mind!

This kinky sexual comedy, set in 1994, contains frequent strong language and course, ribald humor, both sexual and non-sexual. All characters and events are fictional with similarity to real persons living or dead coincidental and unintentional. Only characters aged 18 and over engage in sexual activity. Please enjoy, look out for more chapters as they appear and also check out this story's predecessor, 'Spoiled Princess Hates Camping'.

***

BREANNA took one look at the plant and machinery company where her Uncle Bob worked as a sales manager, and decided immediately that it was a place dedicated to removing every ounce of fun from life. The gray and humid summer day, dark clouds overhead, did not help.

A plump, middle-aged woman aged approximately in her mid-fifties with glasses and permed hair made her way into the office block, while two men one Caucasian and the other African-American, both wearing brown trousers and brown dust coats could be observed walking towards one of the warehouses, neither smiling. Glancing at her Uncle Bob as he parked the van, Breanna decided that years of working in this fucking shithole must be one of the reasons he was so grouchy.

Bob Wilson frowned at his niece's sulky expression. "Breanna, you will be doing intern work here and that is that. So you may as well make the most of it, and learn something."

For once, Breanna did not answer back. However the teenager's silence was not caused by her taking her uncle's advice on board, but insolence. Breanna exited the van, slamming the door closed, while her uncle climbed out of the driver's seat. Bob looked at his niece's slim figure, the girl wearing the same blouse, short skirt and sandals she had worn to church on Sunday. It wasn't in Bob's book suitable office attire, but there was no way she could borrow Kate's clothes due to the differences in height and build and Hell would freeze over before Bob took his niece shopping for new clothes.

"So, what am I doing today?" asked Breanna.

"For the first hour, you will be working in the office with Grace. She's our receptionist. Then you will be working with Woody in the plant hire section."

Bob led Breanna inside the office and introduced her to Grace, who was the plump middle-aged woman Breanna had seen arrive for work earlier. He made the introductions, then said, "Grace, I'll be in a sales meeting for most of the morning, so could you please call Woody in an hour or so and see if he is ready for Breanna?"

"Yes of course Bob," said Grace politely, as Bob walked down the corridor to his office.

Grace looked at her most reluctant assistant with some dismay, Breanna regarding the older woman with a look of passive aggression.

"The first thing we do each morning is to open, sort and record the mail," said Grace, taking a pile of envelopes, two letter openers and a correspondence register, splitting the envelopes between herself and Breanna and guiding the teenager on the procedures of opening, sorting and recording the mail. Breanna could not believe that she had to sit and listen to this fucking shit.

"Now, we have to hand out the mail to everyone," said Grace.

"Why don't they get it themselves?" asked Breanna.

"Because it is company policy that the receptionist hands out the post in the morning," replied Grace.

With a deep sigh Breanna accompanied Grace on the rounds. This was bullshit to Breanna. If the fucking idiots who worked here wanted their fucking mail, they should get off their fucking fat asses and collect it themselves. Breanna was not here to be a fucking servant.

Returning to reception, Breanna spied a roll of fax machine paper. She picked it up and held it out towards Grace. "I'm not looking forward to going to the bathroom here, that's for sure. Your toilet paper is way too hard and non-absorbent, and way too wide. Well it's too wide for me, for somebody with a big fat ass, it would be perfect." The final comment was a deliberate barb at the older woman's weight problem, but to Breanna's disappointment, Grace did not rise to the bait.

"That is fax paper, Breanna," said Grace.

Breanna knew very well what it was, so as usual was just being a smart-ass. "So what do I do for the rest of the time I'm stuck here?"

Grace indicated the electronic typewriter, some labels, large yellow envelopes and a mailing list. "You can type out labels for those envelopes, so we can send out the latest catalogues to our clients."

"Typewriters are crap," said Breanna, as she puzzled over the keys trying to find the letters, her typing speed about five words per minute. "Why is the goddamn Q in the top left hand corner, and the M at the bottom right?"

"Breanna, there is no swearing in the office," warned Grace.

"I didn't swear," snapped Breanna. "I said crap not shit and goddamn not fucking."

"Would you like me to get your Uncle Bob out of his meeting to explain it to you?" asked Grace. "I'm sure he would be very impressed."

"If you don't want people to swear, put out a sign or something," said Breanna, who continued her insolence throughout the next hour. Grace got on with her work and tried to ignore the girl who was supposed to assist her, but was more a hindrance than a help.

Grace was relieved when an internal call registered on the board. "Hello Woody," she said. "Yes, Bob's niece is here, and ready to assist you. See you in a few minutes." She turned to Breanna. "Woody will be here soon to take you over to the workshop." Relief was clear in the woman's chubby face.

"Fabulous, I can't wait," said Breanna sarcastically.

Woody proved to be a very tall, pencil-thin man aged about forty with reddish-blonde hair, who wore one of those awful brown dustcoats Breanna had seen the other two men wearing earlier. With the greatest reluctance, Breanna followed him outside towards the workshop.

Casting an eye towards the overcast sky, Woody said, "It looks like we might get some rain tonight."

"Yeah," agreed the disinterested Breanna.

"Yes, Our Lord has provided us with the most perfect weather and now He sees that we need the rain for the plants and crops He placed upon His Earth."

Breanna rolled her eyes in amazement. Was this guy serious? "So, do you like working here?" she asked.

Woody nodded. "Yes, I do. Obviously I have some good days and some not so good but bad days are the way The Lord tests our resolve and faith."

Breanna suppressed giggling as she followed Woody into the building where he worked, his job receiving, checking and cleaning smaller hired plant and machinery such as cement mixers, lawnmowers and other garden machinery. "You'll need to wear these, you don't want to get your pretty clothes dirty and you need to have covered shoes," said Woody, holding out one of those awful dustcoats and a pair of worn sneakers.

With monumental reluctance, Breanna put on the coat, slipped off her sandals and put the sneakers onto her feet. While she had disliked working with Grace in the office, it was Heaven compared to working out here with Jesus-boy. Woody was pretty chatty, he seemed to find a way to bring either Jesus or God into the conversation. 

When Breanna glanced at Woody's desk and a framed photograph of Woody, a red-haired woman like Woody aged about 40 and eight kids, ranging in age from about 16 to a baby, Woody was only too happy to show her through them.

"This is my wife Mary. The Lord brought us together and he blessed us with eight wonderful children," said Woody proudly. "These are our boys, Obadiah, Moses and Noah, and just last year He added Abraham to our family." Woody indicated the baby, then turned his attention to the girls. "This is Ruth, Rebecca and Hannah, and our youngest daughter Summer."

Breanna's eyes widened at the youngest daughter's hippie-sounding name, this totally out of place with the biblical names given to the other children. "Yes, Our Lord certainly blessed Mary and me with eight wonderful kids," Woody continued.

Breanna was certain that the reason Woody and Mary had eight kids was that Woody had inserted his penis into Mary's vagina and moved back and forth and on eight occasions, his semen that sprayed into Mary's uterus fertilized one of her eggs, but made no comment. However, the girl did ask sarcastically, "So, you don't have a television?"

Woody completely missed the sarcasm. "No, who needs television when He provided us with His book?" Woody picked up his bible from his desk drawer and held it up for the disinterested Breanna to see. Glancing at the clock, Woody said, "It's morning break time, would you like something?"

"Can I have a cigarette?" asked Breanna.

"Yes, but you will need to smoke outside, there's no smoking inside here," said Woody. 

Breanna hastily went to get her purse, keen to get as much smoke, tar and nicotine into her lungs as she could, but stopped as she observed Woody make himself a cup of tea and take two plain, digestive cookies from a packet. To her utter disbelief, Woody then clasped his hands together in prayer before commencing his morning tea.

Shaking her head, Breanna went to smoke her cigarette. Taking deep drags, Breanna plotted her escape from this shit heap that her fucking uncle made her do intern work at like a fucking slave. She would need a convincing excuse to leave work, one that would not attract further questions. Diarrhea? No, Breanna had genuinely had diarrhea on Monday. Her period? No, thanks to her mother's great big mouth when she was sent to live with her relatives on Sunday, her aunt and uncle knew that she had been menstruating the week before. Thinking about her reproductive system, inspiration came to Breanna and she finished off her cigarette and walked back to the workshop.

Woody was contemplating a third cookie. "No, I'd better not, we have our friends over for bible study tonight and Mary will be making her lemon squares." He returned the packet to the drawer.

Breanna approached him clutching her stomach and wincing. "Woody, I'm really sorry but I have to go. I have some, um, ladies' problems."

Seeing the look of discomfort on Woody's face, Breanna used this to her advantage. "Don't worry, it's not my period but I'm ovulating, and I get a really bad stomach ache when that happens." This was partially true. Breanna did get a pain in her abdomen when ovulating, but nothing severe - her menstrual cramps were far worse - and neither was not occurring at the moment.

The uncomfortable Woody was only too convinced. "Sorry to hear that," he stammered. "Maybe you should go home and rest?"

"I'll do that," said Breanna, removing the dustcoat and sneakers, and sliding her ordinary shoes back onto her bare feet. "I'll leave a message with Grace to let my Uncle Bob know. See you later."

"See you later," said Woody, the man glad to see Breanna go. Women's problems were not something Woody was comfortable with. Woody could only blame Eve for listening to the word of the serpent than the word of the Lord for the problems women endured every month that mad men so uncomfortable.

Breanna hoped that her Uncle Bob was fully occupied with his meeting and would not see her departure from this place of utter misery and working like a slave with Fat Woman and Jesus Boy this morning. Lighting up a cigarette, Breanna smoked feverishly as she waited for the bus that would take her first to the center of town to catch another bus back to her side of town where she could finally do some things she wanted to do. Like buying fake toilet paper to prank Kate, hanging out with Mr. Cockburn and maybe Isabella, and purchasing something to smoke that was not tobacco.

When Breanna disembarked from the bus, she saw that she had over half an hour to wait before the one to her side of town. Seeing the supermarket where Dylan worked, Breanna headed towards it, intending to do some shopping with heavy discount ...

*

At the supermarket, Dylan had had a mixed morning. Sonia was at the checkout, Dylan's eyes all over the African-American beauty, her large breasts filling her supermarket uniform. Dylan imagined how great it would be so see Sonia's beautiful black breasts naked. It would be even better to get into her panties and check out the cheeks of her bare bottom, the triangle of black pubic hair over her mound and her pink pussy and anus, but he knew that these aspirations would stay just those; aspirations. It might become reality for Mike, Dylan thought with great resentment as the good-looking jock from the class of 1993, and now a star college football player and Dylan's shift supervisor flirted with Sonia, the beautiful black teenager definitely responsive.

A passing customer distracted Dylan's attention from Sonia, and this was the hottest teacher in school, gym teacher Jessica Adams. Dylan's eyes bulged at Jess's mini-skirt that accentuated her long legs and shapely bottom, and a blouse that showed a good amount of the blonde's ample cleavage. Her pretty feet were visible clad in white sandals, and Dylan drooled.

As Jessica put a cabbage into her shopping basket, Dylan observed a tall handsome muscular young man approach the stunning 28-year-old blonde and put his arm around her slim waist. "Have we got everything, Jess?" the young man asked.

Jessica smiled. "Yes, just about Clint," she said, she and the young man walking hand-in-hand towards aisle six, Dylan unable to miss the slim gold band with a single diamond that adorned Jess's left ring finger. The envious Dylan watched as Jessica removed her hand from that of her fiancé, and walk to the feminine hygiene section, where she took one packet of sanitary napkins, one packet of tampons and a packet of tablets for period pain and placed them in the shopping basket, and returning to her fiancé, Jess and Clint walking towards Sonia's cashier register.

Dylan began to replace some cans of soup on a shelf, feeling some satisfaction. With Dylan's obsession of voyeurism coupled with his jealousy, resentment and mean-spirited nature, his thought process was quite enigmatic at times. On one hand, he would get off fantasizing about the super-hot teacher Jess Adams having sex with her fiancé, Clint pulling down Jess's panties and fucking her pussy hard and going down on her snatch. However, it also brought the jealous young man great pleasure to think that Jess and Clint would not be having sex for about a week thanks to her menstruating.

It was a similar story with Andrea, the hot blonde Polish cheerleader who lived next door. One Friday in biology a few months ago, a class Dylan and his friends Kenny and Wayne enjoyed not for the subject matter but the hot 18-year-old girls who populated it, Andrea, wearing a short skirt, had gone to stand up when the bell rang, only for Kate and Holly to quickly to push her back down in her seat.

Dylan had deliberately taken his time to leave the classroom to see if anything interesting was happening, as Andrea remained sitting down with Kate, Holly, Sonia, Penny, Bridget and Katrina around her. When he made his exit, he could hear female voices and when the girls emerged, Andrea had a jacket tied around her waist and made haste for the school nurse's office. A short while later, Andrea's mother Mrs. K arrived carrying a plastic bag, went into the block where the nurse's office was located, and emerged soon after carrying the same bag.

That afternoon Dylan could not help but notice that Andrea was now wearing jeans and at one stage stopped and winced, clutching her tummy while at her locker, something Kate often did when it was her time of the month. And when he arrived home from school that afternoon, Dylan took note that the skirt Andrea had been wearing during the morning now hung on the line along with a pair of the teenager's panties, all but confirming that Andrea had suffered a menstrual mishap during the day.

So when Andrea's jock boyfriend Steve arrived to pick her up for a date that evening Dylan, who often masturbated over his thoughts of Andrea and Steve having sex together gained great pleasure from the knowledge that as Andrea was having her period, Steve would not be getting into her panties that evening. That Steve had driven all the way down from his college in Philadelphia only to find that Andrea's vagina was off-limits doubled the mean-spirted Dylan's delight.

By coincidence, Andrea was the next customer Dylan saw. The Eastern-European beauty was buying supplies for the ice-cream parlor where she was working the summer, and looked great in the brightly colored store shirt, with her bottom half clad in black stirrup pants. Dylan observed Andrea as the girl reached down and removed one of her shoes, the teenager scratching an itch on the sole of her right foot, her fingers sliding up under the stirrup. Having sated the itch, the girl returned the shoe to her pretty bare foot, and resumed her shopping.

Next up for Dylan was a trip to the bank to collect extra small change. Dylan was served by Samantha, and as the young woman counted out the denominations of coins, Dylan idly flicked an elastic band in his fingers. To his horror it snapped, flying through the air and hitting Samantha on her left breast. The pretty strawberry blonde jumped in shock, and horror filled Dylan's face.

"Samantha, I'm so sorry ..." Dylan stammered.

"It's okay," said Samantha, her tone neutral, the girl clearly displeased but not about to make an issue of it. She counted out the last of the change, and Dylan placed it in the case, scurrying out of the bank without further word. The young man was most dismayed that tonight he had to attend a family dinner with Samantha and her parents and brother, just to make this even more awkward.

Returning to the supermarket, Dylan got to work stocking shelves, until he heard a young female voice calling his name. "Dylan!"

Dylan turned around to see the slim figure of Erin Green rushing towards him wearing a tee-shirt, knee-length skirt and sandals, an expression of desperation on her face, the girl as always managing to be both pretty and plain at the same time. "Are you okay, Erin?" asked Dylan.

Erin, who was at the supermarket completing her grandmother's shopping, wore a facial expression that showed that she was anything but okay. "Dylan, could you please open the customer bathroom for me? It seems to be locked."

"Sure," said Dylan, taking his keys and setting off towards the bathroom keen to rescue the damsel in distress. Erin followed, her look of urgency increasing with each second. Inside her bowels, Erin could feel that an episode of her Crohn's disease was imminent.

Dylan inserted the key into the lock and went to turn it, but paused as it turned about a quarter of the way and then jammed. Dylan jiggled the key, but it would not budge.

"It seems to be stuck," he said, pushing the key in harder and only jamming it more.

"Please hurry," Erin pleaded. She could feel her feces pushing against the walls of her rectum and her anal sphincter, and knew she could not hold much longer. Not being able to get to a toilet when her Crohn's disease was playing up was Erin's worst nightmare and finding the bathroom without any toilet paper a close second.

"What is happening here?" came the cool, calm and collected voice of Mike, as the football star jock strode over to where the bumbling Dylan still had the key jammed in the bathroom lock.

"This lock is jammed," said Dylan. "Come on, damn it."

"I really, really need to go to the bathroom," Erin pleaded.

"Don't worry Erin, I'll get you in there," said Mike with a charming smile. "Out of the way, Dylan," he ordered, pushing the smaller young man out of the way, and without the slightest problem, opened the door to the bathroom. 




Trailer Trash Teen Hates Rules Ch. 05



"Thank you so much," said Erin, the teenager smiling at Mike but glaring at Dylan while clutching her tummy as she dashed inside the customer bathroom, a single unisex facility containing one toilet and a sink. She closed the door behind her, the lock turning from a green vacant to a red engaged as Erin locked the door.

"Do you think you can go through one shift without inconveniencing or embarrassing one of our customers?" Mike asked Dylan, handing him back the keys and striding away, presumably to chat up Sonia again. Dylan glowered at his nemesis as he vanished around the corner.

Inside the bathroom, Erin checked for toilet paper, lifted her skirt, pulled her white full-brief panties down to her ankles and sat the cheeks of her bare bottom down onto the toilet, her legs slightly apart to show a furry triangle of brown pubic hair that grew over her mound and extended between her legs over her pink vagina. A sanitary pad was adhered to the saddle of Erin's panties as she was currently menstruating.

No sooner was Erin sitting down than her bowels responded, diarrhea pouring from her anus and going everywhere in the toilet, the girl passing gas repeatedly and as she was on her period her menses made things far messier than usual.

Breathing heavily and adjusting her glasses, Erin unwound herself a length of toilet paper and wiped her vagina and anus front to back, the teenager immediately getting more paper to repeat the process. There was nothing more she hated than an attack of Crohn's disease when she was having her period, and as more diarrhea cascaded from Erin's bottom and the girl advanced the toilet roll to get more toilet tissue, she knew that she would be stuck here for some time.

"Damn that Dylan," Erin cursed under her breath as she started to pee, her urine splashing into the toilet bowl. His bumbling and failure to complete a simple task of unlocking the door nearly made her mess her panties and cause her severe embarrassment. Fortunately, Mike had been there to rescue her this morning. Erin's uncomplimentary thoughts about Dylan continued as she contemplated about how he had knocked her over when she was buying personal items in the store the other morning, exposing her panties in the process. And of course, he was friends with those morons Wayne and Kenny who had humiliated her in class that day when she farted when asking the teacher for the lavatory pass.

Erin again moved her bowels with her poo making loud splashing that echoed in the toilet bowl and contemplated all the embarrassing things that had happened to her thanks to Crohn's disease. Since turning 18 the previous fall it seemed to never end. Farting in class was just one incident, several weeks before that stomach problems had landed Erin in the nurse's office in school, the girls' sick bay that day filled with a number of girls with various medical complaints. When the diarrhea inevitably came, Erin had no choice but to use the toilet in the girls' sick bay. Thanks to the toilet cubicle being open at the top and wide spaces under the door and partitions, all of the girls got to hear and smell everything Erin was doing on the toilet. When Erin finally flushed the toilet, emerged from the cubicle and washed her hands, she got some very strange looks.

Even at home, there was little escape for poor Erin. Her parents divorced several years earlier, fighting bitterly over whom Erin's brother would live with and just as bitterly over whom Erin would live with but this was the opposite, each parent preferred Erin to live with the other. The result was Erin living with her mother and visiting her father in Philadelphia, and the inverse for her brother. However, one thing that linked both parents was that neither had an ounce of sympathy for their daughter's digestive problems, treating this either like an embarrassment or one huge joke.

At a family outing with her mother, step-father and step-sisters, Erin had been taken short in the car and had to run as fast as she could through a meadow and behind a tree with a box of tissues, the teenager pulling down her jeans and panties with seconds to spare. Her mother thought this was a huge joke, laughing and telling friends, neighbors and relatives.

Then at spring break, Erin had visited her father, brother, step-mother and step-brothers in Philadelphia. Like today, she had her period and when an attack of Crohn's disease flared up Erin had to run for the bathroom as fast as her bare feet would carry her, diarrhea keeping her sitting on the toilet for close to half an hour. When Erin finally finished, pulling up her panties and adjusting her pad she pushed the handle on the cistern to flush the toilet, and to the girl's horror nothing happened, leaving the toilet bowl full of her poo, menstrual blood and dirty toilet paper. With her stepmother out for the morning, not that Erin liked the woman anyway, Erin had no choice but to take her father into the smelly bathroom and advise him of what had happened.

When Erin's father, never a tactful or compassionate man, was unable to fix the toilet himself he had to call a plumber, explaining loudly to the plumber and apprentice when they arrived that 'his daughter had broken the toilet when she had a crap that morning.' With Erin the only girl in sight, the two men obviously knew she was the one responsible. Her father had then apologized to the two tradesmen for the unpleasant, smelly and messy nature of this call-out, saying that he wished he had two sons instead, rather than a daughter with a spastic colon and girls' problems every 28 days.

Erin's black mood returned to Kenny and Wayne, and she would have been horrified to know that the two morons were at this very moment outside the customer bathroom. Of course Wayne and Kenny had no idea that Erin occupied the bathroom. They were talking to Dylan, who was cleaning up after somebody dropped a bottle of orange juice, and had visited the supermarket to collect the promised photographs of Dylan's hot cousin from New York, the spoiled rich girl Madison.

Kenny and Wayne's eyes bulged at the photographs of the pretty 18-year-old blonde. In some photos Madison was wearing a pink tee-shirt and blue denim shorts with sandals that showed off her pretty feet; in others tight jeans; one of her in short overalls and in another a pink baby-doll dress, her feet clad in white sneakers and white ankle socks.

"She is so hot," said Wayne, feeling his cock stir in his underpants.

"Yeah, your cousin is really hot," conferred Kenny. He looked at one of the photographs, which contained pictures of the two travelers the Wilson family had met while on their summer camping vacation, Davo and Travis. "Who are those two guys?" asked Kenny.

"Yeah, who are they?" Wayne wanted to know.

"Those are the two guys I told you about, Davo and Travis," said Dylan. "They're from Australia."

"Australia, wow," said Wayne. He attempted an Australian accent, very badly. "G'day mate, how's it going? She's a beaut Sheila, hey Cobber? Chuck another shrimp on the barbeque."

Kenny thought this was very funny, but Dylan who was trying to do his work, was not so impressed and was hoping that Wayne and Kenny would go on their way.

"Australian girls are really hot," said Kenny. "I liked the pictures of them in the books at school in their white blouses, frilly dresses and aprons in the mountains."

Dylan and Wayne shot him a strange look. "You're thinking of Austria, not Australia," said Dylan.

"Don't they wear those hot dresses in Australia?" asked Kenny.

"How the fuck should I know?" asked Wayne.

Kenny looked at another photograph. "Fuck, Davo is a great looking guy," he said.

This earned him another and even stranger look from Dylan and Wayne. "What the fuck, Kenny?" asked Wayne.

"He's good looking, I'm just saying," said Kenny.

"Yeah, well don't say," said Wayne. "You don't walk behind me ever again, Kenny."

There was a commotion along an aisle, and a middle-aged woman appeared leading an elderly, irascible and infirm man. Kenny and Wayne laughed. "That guy peed in a fountain last week," Kenny advised Dylan, who also laughed.

"His daughter was really pissed about it," Wayne added.

The father and daughter stood outside the customer bathroom, continuing to argue. "I don't care what you did in the army during the war, Dad," said the woman. "You cannot go around peeing in a supermarket car park."

The elderly man regarded his daughter with a sour expression. "You stupid girl, it's locked. I'll piss my pants the way I'm going."

"Dad, be patient," the woman warned.

"One day soon I'll be dead and then you'll be sorry," said the old man bitterly.

Inside the bathroom, Erin finally finished on the toilet, the girl unwinding toilet paper three times in a row to finish wiping herself clean. Feeling slightly breathless as she always did after an episode of Crohn's disease, Erin stood up and pulled up her panties, adjusting her napkin so it was secure around her pussy. Smoothing down her skirt, Erin flushed the toilet and went to the sink to wash her hands, before exiting the bathroom where she found herself confronted by the old man as soon as she opened the door.

"It's about time!" shouted the old man, his voice carrying through the supermarket. Erin blushed bright red, her face turning scarlet when she saw Wayne and Kenny there, both laughing.

"Dad, enough," said his daughter.

The old man took a step into the bathroom and stopped short at Erin's toilet smell. "Oh my God, what was that girl doing in there?" he roared, going red with rage.

Erin cringed as Kenny and Wayne collapsed in hysterics.

"Dad, be quiet it's embarrassing," warned his daughter. "Go in there, and go to the bathroom."

"You probably arranged for her to stink the toilet out when I was about to go in there just to piss me off," the old man challenged, again pointing at Erin and embarrassing the hapless teenager more and more. "I'm not going there now, I'd rather stand right here and piss my pants than go in there where that girl had a shit."

"Dad, you won't be doing that ..." warned the woman, but her facial expression turned more horrified as a huge wet stain appeared at the front of her father's brown trousers, urine running onto the floor.

"Dad!" screamed the mortified woman.

"I told you so," said the old man, looking most pleased with himself.

As the horrified and humiliated Erin made her escape, Wayne and Kenny were hysterical with laughter, sounding like hyenas that had breathed in laughing gas. Erin having an embarrassing experience when she went to the toilet for a poo, and a senile old man pissing his pants were utopia to them. 

The woman was not laughing as she escorted her father from the store, his wet pants attracting a great deal of attention. While Dylan would normally have laughed at Erin's misfortune and an incontinent old man pissing his pants, he did not do so today. As he was the one with the mop and bucket, it fell to Dylan to mop up the urine puddle on the floor, and he was glad when Wayne and Kenny composed themselves and went on their way. At times, he had to agree with his father, mother, brother and sister. They were idiots.

With Kenny and Wayne gone, Dylan made his way towards the front of the store where Sonia was serving a customer when he heard another young female voice call his name. "Dylan?"

Dylan turned around to see the slim, attractive figure of Megan Delaney approaching, the 18-year-old looking good in a short green summer dress that came just above her knees and complimented her long red hair and fair skin well, Megan's pretty feet encased in white sandals. While Dylan normally welcomed the presence of any pretty teenage girl, liberal do-gooder and teacher's pet Megan served to irritate him despite how hot she was. As usual Megan was clasping the hand of her boyfriend Paul, the handsome young man pushing a shopping cart. At school, Megan had rarely given Dylan the time of day, so he wondered why she wanted to speak to him now.

"Hi Megan, hi Paul how are you?" Dylan asked politely.

"Hi Dylan," said Paul, unusually getting the first word in before Megan.

"My boyfriend Paul and I had the day off today and we were helping Mrs. O'Connor by doing her shopping," Megan began. Dylan kept a neutral expression. Obviously graduating high school had done little to change Megan. As always, she made a point of saying Paul was her boyfriend despite everyone already knowing this and typically was keen to flaunt her good deeds to anyone who would listen.

Megan continued. "Everything was going fine until we saw the most offensive item for sale in your supermarket, and I thought it best I bring it to your attention."

At her register, Sonia looked across and was glad that Megan had approached Dylan rather than herself. Dylan pondered what the item that was so offensive could be. They did not sell any sort of adult magazines in the store, not even containing girls wearing swimsuits. "Could you please show me what it is?" asked Dylan.

"Of course," said Megan. She removed her boyfriend's hand from her clasp and led Dylan a few feet to the front of the stationary aisle and pointed at a display.

Dylan was even more puzzled. This was a book stand, and the children's book stand at that. What was so offensive here? "These are children's books," said Dylan blankly.

Megan sighed and picked up a picture book. "Now, I'm not one to complain but how could your store even consider selling something so horribly offensive?"

Dylan looked at the book Megan was holding. The cover illustrations looked to be from about the 1940s given the appearance of various happy looking toys - teddy bears, other plush animals, dolls, soldiers and the like - the title indicating the subject was about a magical toy box. Had Megan lost her mind, or been smoking a plant with five green leaves on each stem? "I'm sorry I don't follow," said Dylan.

Megan rolled her eyes and pointed at the illustration of one toy. The said toy was a golliwog doll, black in color with a big smile and wearing a stripy suit with a big bow tie. "How could your supermarket even consider something so racially offensive and insensitive to children?" Megan looked around for somebody to assist her in her moral crusade, and fixed her eyes upon Sonia. Megan thrust the book towards the pretty African-American cashier. "Sonia, don't you find this terribly racist and offensive?"

Sonia sighed. This wasn't the first time Megan had tried to get Sonia's support on something Megan considered racially offensive. In biology at high school, the class had been studying plants from Australia. There were many interesting and exotic plants to study, one of which had a black trunk and long grass-like foliage on the top, with a long stem growing from the top when the plant was flowering. This tree was known as a 'black-boy', something that upset Megan's delicate sensitivities no end, the girl horrified at the plant's name and asking that the teacher and class refer to it by its Latin name of 'Xanthorrea Australis'.

Sonia did not consider the Australian black-boy plant racially offensive. Nor did she consider the children's book obviously written and illustrated many years ago and containing a golliwog doll offensive. Sonia did consider her grandparents have to use colored bathrooms and having to sit at the back of the bus when they were younger offensive and the segregation policies her parents remembered from childhood offensive. Another thing that Sonia found offensive was a white girl like Megan Delaney who could have no concept of the issues faced by many African-Americans getting on her high horse about minor things such as Australian plants and children's story-books that were of no relevance to anybody. With an indifferent shrug of her shoulders, Sonia said, "It's just a children's book, I don't see anything wrong with it."

Deprived of an ally, Megan turned back to Dylan. "Maybe I should speak to somebody in charge?"

Keen to get rid of the girl, Dylan said, "How about I take you to see the store manager, Megan?"

"Thank you," said Megan. She took Paul, who had been standing in silence, by the hand. "Come along, Paul." Paul did as he was told as Dylan escorted Megan to the store manager's office, before making good his escape. Megan was the manager's problem now.

Having gotten rid of one problem 18-year-old female, Dylan found himself confronted with another when he turned a corner and found Breanna in an aisle. The cousins looked at each other and Dylan was surprised to see her. It wasn't even noon yet. Surely things couldn't have gone so badly at the company where his father worked that Breanna had been asked to leave already? Then again, maybe they had.

"What are you doing here?" Dylan asked his cousin.

"Shopping, what does it look like?" retorted Breanna.

"Aren't you supposed to be working with Dad today?" asked Dylan.

"It was fucked," said Brenna. "No wonder Uncle Bob is so fucking miserable, working at that fucking shit-hole of a place with all those stupid cunts all the time."

"Does Dad know that you've gone?" Dylan enquired.

"I left a message for him, I don't know if he got it and I sure as fuck don't care. One thing, though. You didn't see me here, okay?"

"I didn't see you here?" Dylan asked.

"That's right, you didn't see me," Breanna affirmed. "Just like you didn't see me do this." The girl took two candy bars from the shelf, putting one into the shopping basket she carried and with deft hands, the second between her breasts. The teenager smiled at Dylan in smug satisfaction. "You tell on me, and I'll tell everyone about the things you like to collect. Like pornography, or your spoiled rich cousin's dirty panties. Well, got to run, can't stay and chat."

With that, Breanna turned and walked away, Dylan nervously hoping that this had not been seen by anyone else, otherwise Breanna would be arrested for shoplifting and himself fired for not doing anything about it.

He watched nervously as his cousin finished the shopping she was doing - it seemed to be unhealthy sweet foods such as cakes, cookies and candy for whatever reason - and paid at the cashier. Dylan pondered how many items his cousin had failed to pay for, and if she would be caught. However, Breanna was so experienced as a shoplifter that she had avoided showing up on the radar, and walked out into the gray summer day with not a hint of a problem. Dylan returned to stocking a shelf, knowing that after lunch he would be assisting Jim, the grumpy fruit and vegetable man.

*

Outside, Breanna made for the bus stop, her bra and panties filled with small items she had stolen. Ducking into an alleyway, she removed them and placed them in the shopping bag she carried. Boarding the bus, Breanna was soon on the road back to her side of town. On the way, the bus passed a gas station, where Kate was in the process of filling up the company car she had driven to the bank. She looked up at the bus, certain she recognized a pretty blonde passenger as the vehicle passed by, but Kate's view was unclear and she was not certain it was Breanna.

The tall brunette shook her head, wondering if she was seeing things. Breanna was supposed to be working at the company with her father today. What was she doing on the bus? Her dad would be really mad if Breanna had defied him and left work early. Still, that was Breanna's problem. Kate did not want to get involved.

Kate had just about finished filling the gas tank, when a vehicle for the company where Brett worked pulled in behind her, and Brett stepped out. The handsome young man was delighted to see the pretty Kate, his eyes lingering on the teenager's big breasts.

"Hi Kate," Brett said, a big smile on his face.

Kate likewise was pleased to see Brett. "Hi Brett," she said, returning Brett's smile.




Trailer Trash Teen Hates Rules Ch. 05



They talked as Brett fueled the vehicle he was driving, small talk at first before Brett said, "So Kate, have you thought about what we talked about on Sunday?"

Kate had indeed thought about Brett's suggestion that they become an actual couple rather than meeting in secret and having casual sex. She liked Brett, he liked her, the sex between them was amazing but given that she was starting college in Philadelphia in the fall, and Brett was her brother's best friend with John highly protective of his younger sister, it made things complicated. Then there was Travis, the good-looking traveler she had enjoyed met and had great sex with while on the camping vacation. She really liked Travis, and felt a little confused about liking two guys so much at the same time. Kate's face fell a little. "Brett, I still need to think about it, you know?"

Brett smiled reassuringly. "No pressure Katie, I'm good with what you decide." He admired Kate and continued. "It's just that there's something different now, I think about you all the time, and I'd just love to walk down the street with you holding hands and call you my girlfriend. I see John and Samantha together, and can't help but want that type of relationship for myself."

"There's John," said Kate.

"Yes, I know that John is protective of you, that's kind of his job as your big brother ..." Brett began, before Kate cut him short.

"No, John is here now, literally," said Kate.

Brett looked around to see John's company sales representative car pulling into the gas station. John got out, pleased to see his sister and best friend talking and joined in them in conversation - with a very different topic to what Kate and Brett had been discussing previously - as he filled the gas tank of his own car. John was in such a good mood that he seemed to have noticed nothing.

"I wonder how Breanna is going working with Dad?" John mused. 

Kate shook her head. "I can't be sure but I think I saw her on a bus a few minutes ago. Please don't tell anyone, I don't want trouble."

John smiled and shrugged his shoulders. "Dad is going to be really mad if she snuck out of work."

Kate nodded. "Yeah, he will."

With the three vehicles now filled, John, Kate and Brett went and paid for their fuel purchases, before wishing each other well for their respective days. John, the last to leave the gas station, pondered if his father had found out Breanna had left work, if indeed Kate had seen her on the bus. He only hoped that it would not affect tonight, when he and Samantha finally made their big announcement.

*

At the plant hire operations, Bob Wilson had just finished his sales meeting and decided to check to see how Breanna was going. Greeting Grace on the way past, Bob made his way out to the workshop and saw Woody working alone, with no sign of Breanna.

Frowning, Bob approached Woody. "Hey Woody, where is my niece?" he asked.

Woody looked up from his work. "Breanna had to go," he said.

"Go?" asked Bob. "Go where?"

"She wasn't feeling well," said Woody.

Bob could see this was a crock of crap, Breanna was perfectly fine this morning. In the case of Kate, she could have gotten sick suddenly from a migraine, but not Breanna. "What did Breanna say?" Bob wanted to know.

Woody looked embarrassed. "Um, well ..."

"Woody, I want to know what she said," said Bob sternly.

"She um, had some ladies' problems," said Woody shyly.

"Oh, that is bullshit," stormed Bob, turning and striding back to the office cursing under his breath, Grace seeing Bob re-enter the office with a face like a thunderstorm about to explode. Bob made straight for his office, and called the medical center, Anna picking up the phone straight away.

"Hi Bob, how are you?" asked Anna.

"Breanna has done a vanishing act, and it's still morning," grumbled Bob. "When I catch her, I will wring her neck."

Anna felt like wringing Breanna's neck too. "Oh no Bob, please don't," she said sarcastically.

"Could you please call your parents and let them know to call either me or you if Breanna turns up at the house?" Bob asked.

"Actually Bob, they're not there today. They went out to that historical house on that tour with the other old folks," said Anna. She paused, not wanting to bother her clearly grumpy husband further, but circumstances had changed. "Bob, Claudia called in sick today so I have to work back an hour later. That means that I won't be there to greet Kirsty and neither will my parents, so if you could meet her I would really appreciate it ..."

Bob sighed, although he was not pleased about playing host to his wife's scatter-brained younger sister. "Okay honey, it can't be helped. As long as she doesn't spray me with fertilizer like our son and niece last night. I'll see you tonight, Anna."

"See you tonight, Bob," said Anna, hanging up the telephone and going to the fax machine to retrieve some incoming correspondence.

*

Breanna disembarked from the bus, pleased to again be back where she belonged in the bad side of town. Her first action was to go to the joke store to buy the two fake toilet rolls, and tonight Kate's fat ass would be in for a big surprise when her cousin sat on the toilet.

Hoping Isabella would be able to sneak away today, Breanna decided to call the apartment first, to make sure that Isabella's tyrant of a grandmother was not there. Looking for some coins, Breanna went to a call box and dialed the number, hearing the phone start to ring.

Breanna's luck was in; Isabella was at home and alone. Her grandmother Connie had gone out on the old person's tour to the historical house, the same tour that Anna Wilson's parents were on. The tension in the apartment was still evident as Isabella had sat in the living room, feeling the eyes of her mother's creepy boyfriend Carlos upon her, the stupid asshole drooling.

Fuming, Isabella had turned around to face Carlos, opened her legs wide to flash her white panties at him, and returned to looking in the opposite direction from him. Isabella's mother Maria knew nothing of this, the attractive 38-year-old behind the closed bathroom door sitting on the toilet with her jeans and panties, white in color like those of her daughter, around her ankles, her bare feet poking out from under the hems. Her legs were open at the front, showing a full bush of black pubic hair and her pink vagina. Maria emptied the contents of her bowels into the toilet for about five minutes, the woman unwinding toilet paper and wiping her anus as required. Maria finished pooing, then unwound several lengths of toilet paper to complete wiping herself clean. Maria stood up, pulled up her jeans and panties adjusting them around her pussy and bare bottom, and flushed the toilet, before washing her hands and exiting the bathroom.

In the living room, Maria had slid her feet into her shoes and collected her purse. "Come on Carlos," she ordered, a command the pervert obeyed like a dog. Maria then addressed her daughter, showing the usual level of parental discipline and control she always did. "If you go out, just make sure you get home before your grandmother. I don't want her to give me the shits."

"Behave yourself," Carlos warned Isabella, the teenager giving him an obscene hand gesture as the door closed.

Although free, Isabella was not sure what to do without her best friend, until the phone rang, and to her delight, it was Breanna on the phone. "Bree, just get the fuck up here," she said.

Breanna ran up the stairs of the housing project as Isabella threw the door open, the pretty blonde rushing in as she embraced the pretty Latina. At first the two girls hugged in the normal way two 18-year-old best friends would do, but soon things became more sensual and Sapphic. Breanna and Isabella locked lips and French kissed. Their hands roamed all over each other, each girl putting her hands up the other girl's short skirt, Breanna feeling Isabella's bottom through her white panties, with Isabella likewise stroking the cheeks of Breanna's bottom through the soft pink cotton of the pretty blonde's panties.

They fell back onto the couch making out, caressing each other's breasts through their shirts and bras. Their fingers moved to the front of each other's panties working their way inside, the teenager's caressing each other's curls of pubic hair, then working deeper between their legs and into their soft, warm and damp vaginas.

Breanna and Isabella giggled as they fingered each other's pussies, before Breanna indicated to Isabella to stop, and the girls withdrew their fingers from each other's panties. "How would you like even better sex?" asked Breanna, as they both lit up cigarettes.

"I'd like any sex," said Isabella. "Well, if I wanted sex I'm sure Carlos would be happy to oblige, but there's no way I'd let that fucking creep touch me. So who is going to give me this great sex?"

"It's a surprise," said Breanna. "On the subject of great sex, have you heard from Rocky? It's like he vanished from the planet after the rave."

Isabella shrugged. "He had this huge fight with his mom, and fucked off to the Jersey Shore to stay with his second step-father." She and Breanna stubbed out their cigarette butts, collected their purses and exited the apartment, walking together down the concrete stairwell out of the bleak housing project.

"Is your grandmother giving you the shits?" Breanna asked Isabella.

"Yeah, it's like having dysentery rather than diarrhea," said Isabella. "You know, she actually spanked both Mom and me yesterday? Spanked us on our asses. Fucking bitch."

"Um, I actually saw that Issy," Breanna admitted. "I came over yesterday, and your grandma was going off her fucking head."

Isabella's swarthy skin blushed. "Fuck, that's embarrassing. The only good thing is that Grandma hit that fucking asshole Carlos too, and kicked him up the ass."

Breanna laughed. "Yeah, that was fucking funny."

"Grandma should be locked up in a fucking loony bin," said Isabella. "What the fuck did I do, apart from being at an illegal rave and throwing up on a cop? It's not like my brother. Richie was the one who was in a car-stealing gang, he was the one who posed for photographs with all the cars they had stolen and he and his loser friends were the ones who crashed through a ceiling when hiding from the cops in the roof and ended up on that TV show about dumb criminals."

"Have you heard how Richie is going in prison?" asked Breanna.

Isabella shook her head. "Nuh, not for ages. He's probably too busy sucking dick in the shower, or has his face in the pillow and his ass in the air. Grandma gets on Mom's case about being a bad mother, and while Mom did get knocked up at 18, at least she has two kids to one father. My Aunt Sofia, she has seven kids to six different fathers and two of the sons are in fucking jail like Richie. Grandma never goes and gives her the shits." The girl lit another cigarette, as did Breanna. "So Bree, how is staying with your aunt and uncle in the posh part of town?"

"It's completely fucked," complained Breanna. The girl went on a bad tempered, foul mouthed rant about her aunt, uncle, cousins and other people who occupied that side of town, Isabella listening intently and laughing at some of the stories, such as religious nut Woody from work that morning and that red-haired do-gooder girl from church, Megan Delaney.

"So, why have you got all that candy and those cookies in the bag?" Isabella asked.

"It's for when we get hungry after our special cigarettes," said Breanna.

"Have you got some pot?" Isabella asked hopefully. 

Breanna shook her head. "Not at the moment, but we soon will. First we get some money, and then we go and see Scooter and get some grass."

"Are we going to get some money from Fatso Phil?" Isabella asked.

Breanna nodded and laughed. "Yeah, Fatso Phil is like a fucking ATM."

The man whom the girls so charmingly called 'Fatso Phil' was the owner of a panel repair shop. Fatso was an appropriate nickname for the middle-aged, balding man, who weighed in at over 350-pounds, rolls of fat oozing from his shirt and shorts, his face like a full harvest moon, his legs wobbling with blubber. The girls had done over his shop several times, targeting this place for a variety of reasons.

Firstly, Fatso Phil could never catch the fleet-footed teenagers in a million years. Secondly, he avoided having any sort of security cameras or surveillance equipment as his business practices were questionable at best, cheating customers and insurance companies, re-birthing cars and failing to declare cash earnings on his tax return. Obviously, the man wanted no evidence of this. Thirdly and most importantly, he was never going to call the police as he would be the one in serious trouble if law enforcement took a closer look around the panel shop.

Breanna and Isabella reached the panel shop, casting casual glances around to ensure there were no witnesses nearby. Nobody was around, so they looked around for an object that they could use as part of their plan, eventually finding a lump of concrete from the broken sidewalk. The girls got into position, Breanna hiding near the main entrance to the panel shop, Isabella moving around the perimeter fence with the lump of concrete in her hand.

At a signal from Breanna, Isabella hurled the concrete over the fence at one of the cars, smashing the windscreen with an explosion of glass, creating the distraction. Not hanging around to see her handy-work, Isabella took to her heels and around the other corner.

Fatso Phil went running out of the office at the sound, cursing and swearing. The term running was not exactly accurate, so obese was the man that he could only waddle, his fat thighs rubbing together, his belly like jello. 

As soon as Phil was out of the office Breanna was inside, opening the cash register with no problem and grabbing all the notes and stuffing them into her panties, before turning and dashing out of the panel shop and up the street, slowing to a walk so she did not draw attention to herself. Isabella joined her from around the next corner, the girls close enough to hear Fatso Phil bellow with rage as he discovered that he had been robbed.

The girls giggled at the sound, pleased that they had robbed this crook and there was not a fucking thing the fat cunt could do about it, and continued to walk away.

"How much money did you get?" Isabella asked.

"Fucking shitloads," said Breanna, as the girls continued on their way towards where Scooter lived, approaching the rundown property with overgrown grass and vegetation the dominant feature.

Breanna removed the stolen cash from her panties and shared it with Isabella, as Scooter opened the front door and walked down the path towards the girls. Scooter was a tall, skinny young man aged in his early twenties, tattoos on his arms, his hair styled in a mullet, wearing a black tee-shirt and jeans.

"Hey Scooter, mow your fucking lawn," said Breanna.

At this code, Scooter escorted Breanna and Isabella inside the house, the smell of marijuana smoke strong. Two guys and a girl were passed out on drugs in the untidy living room, marijuana smoking devices on the table nearby.

"Your brother is real pissed off at you Breanna," said Scooter as he unlocked a closet. "Dustin came by the other day, said you'd been stealing shit from him before you got kicked out of home."

"I think Dustin is about to shed the lining of his uterus like he does every 28 days," laughed Breanna. Isabella joined in the laughing, but Scooter did not, clearly uncomfortable with jokes about menstruation.

"You got the cash?" asked Scooter.

"You got the shit?" asked Breanna.

Scooter held up two bags of marijuana. "Then we've got the cash," said Isabella, she and Breanna holding out some of the notes they had obtained from robbing the panel store.

"How about some discount?" asked Breanna as they took the marijuana.

"You girls are fucking killing me, how can I make any fucking money if I give out discounts?" asked Scooter. "I already let Dustin have credit for half of what he bought on Monday."

Isabella twisted her dark hair in her fingers, clearly flirting. "Come on Scooter, you know what we'll let you do for a bit of discount. You know what you want to do."

Scooter's eyes drifted down to the floor, Breanna and Isabella's feet visible in their shoes. Scooter drooled at the sight of the teenagers' toes and he felt his dick hardening in his underpants. He loved girls' bare feet more than anything else in the world, and would rather kiss and caress a woman's feet than have sex with her.

"Okay, you convinced me," said Scooter. 

"Yay!" said Breanna jokingly. They completed the deal and Scooter, after collecting a jar of strawberry jelly from the refrigerator, went with the girls into his bedroom.

Breanna and Isabella removed their shoes so they were barefoot and sat on the edge of the bed, their knees apart with their panties visible. Scooter stared at the teenagers' soles, arches, toes and ankles, his erection throbbing in anticipation before he got down on his knees, caressing first the soft white skin of Breanna's bare feet, then moving onto Isabella's mocha-colored bare feet. Scooter then took Isabella's left foot in one hand and Breanna's right foot in the other so he could caress both girls' feet at the same time. The ticklish teenagers both giggled and squirmed at the attention paid to their feet.

Scooter lowered his face down to the girls' feet, kissing Isabella's feet all over, starting at the pretty Latina's toes and working his way back to her ankles. Then it was Breanna's turn, Scooter licking the blonde teenager's toes as he kissed them, before moving slowly backwards to her ankles, lifting his head after kissing the ankle of Breanna's right bare foot.

"Now for the best bit," said Scooter, taking the strawberry jelly and smearing it all over Breanna and Isabella's bare feet. Lowering his head once more, Scooter slowly and sensually licked the sweet and sticky jelly from Breanna's left foot first, then Isabella's right foot, his tongue going between their toes to get every bit of jelly from their skin. Again the girls giggled and squirmed at the sensations, their vaginas responding favorably, both teens getting damp in their panties between their legs.

Scooter's erection throbbed as he moved his tongue between Breanna's right foot and Isabella's left foot, licking up every inch of jelly and leaving the best bit - the toes of both teenagers - until last, slowly sucking first Breanna and then Isabella's pinky toe to finish.

The girls looked at Scooter's erection standing at 90 degrees in the front of his jeans and both giggled.

"We can't leave you like that," said Breanna.

"No, that's for sure," said Isabella.

The barefoot teenagers got off the bed and knelt on the floor, Breanna unfastening Scooter's jeans and Isabella reaching into his groin and freeing his erection from his underpants. Then the two girls stroked his cock with their fingers, feeling it throbbing under their digits. Lowering their pretty faces into Scooter's groin, Breanna and Isabella each licked a side of his penis in unison, before Breanna moved her attention to his balls, Isabella taking his erection in her mouth to give fellatio.

Breanna and Isabella both felt as though they were on fire between their legs as the girls changed position, Breanna sucking Scooter's cock and Isabella licking his balls. Orgasm was not far away, Breanna and Isabella moving their faces in front of Scooters dick as he came, sticky white semen spraying onto each of them.

As Scooter breathed heavily, the girls put on another display. Breanna licked the white cum from the perfect mocha skin on Isabella's face, then Isabella did the same to Breanna, her tongue absorbing cum from her friend's face. With mouths full of semen, Breanna and Isabella exchanged a deep French kiss, their tongues intertwining as they finally swallowed Scooter's cum with big gulps.




Trailer Trash Teen Hates Rules Ch. 06



INTRODUCTION & DISCLAIMER - In Chapter 6 of this kinky and outrageous early 1990s sexual comedy, trailer park girl Breanna accompanies her relatives to a family dinner where her cousin John and his girlfriend Samantha have an important announcement. Can Breanna, not known for subtlety or sensitivity, keep her mouth shut and behave for once in her life, or will she again destroy everything in her path?

Please enjoy Chapter 6 of Trailer Trash Teen Hates Rules and check out the earlier chapters if you haven't already done so, along with its predecessor, Spoiled Princess Hates Camping.

All characters engaging in sexual activity are aged 18-years-old and older, and all characters and situations are fictional, with similarity to real persons living or dead coincidental and unintentional.

***

BREANNA'S facial expression changed to one of puzzlement as it was not the tall, big-boned, enormous-breasted figure of her cousin Kate to emerge from the car, but an attractive and very skinny woman who looked to be aged in her early 30s, wearing glasses, a blouse and black mini-skirt, her long brown hair tied back in a pony-tail.

Having not seen the new arrival for some time, it took Breanna some time to recall who she was; her Aunt Anna's younger sister Kirsty Doyle. Breanna remembered her aunt and uncle discussing that Kirsty was visiting from Philadelphia that evening, and the blonde trailer park girl resolved that she would have to wait longer for Kate to arrive home and walk into the fake toilet paper prank.

Kirsty rang the doorbell, the dogs barking at the sound. Downstairs at the Wilson house, Bob had become even grumpier as he called the trailer park to see if his niece had returned there after abandoning her intern work earlier in the day.

First he spoke to his nephew Dustin, the slacker sounding like he was stoned and offering nothing constructive. Next he spoke to his sister Rosanne, who as was often the case sounded drunk. Next Bob had shared a conversation with his loser brother Wyatt, which mainly consisted of Wyatt saying 'yeah', 'nuh' and 'dunno' to most of Bob's question, and taking no interest in his daughter Breanna and the trouble she was causing, most recently with a vanishing act. 

The doorbell rang as Bob put down the phone and he strode to answer it, keeping a neutral expression as he opened the door to reveal his much-younger sister Kirsty. Of his five siblings and Anna's five siblings, Kirsty finished third for making him grouchy. His own brother Wyatt, the lazy slacker who only made contact if he wanted something and was married to the dreadful Rosanne producing six awful kids topped the list. Runner-up was Anna's older sister Carole, the snob who had gone to New York, married a wealthy young man and produced the spoiled brat Madison. 

These two black sheep were infinitely more annoying than Kirsty, but Bob still found plenty of capacity to be annoyed at the youngest in Anna's family. Anna's parents had had one kid every two years even during the Second World War when her father was home from military service, starting with Carole in 1941, two boys in 1943 & 1945, Anna in 1947 and another brother in 1949. Then one night in 1960, there must have been nothing on television, because in 1961 Kirsty was born twelve years after the youngest brother, and a full twenty years after the oldest sister Carole. 

While the baby of the family was without doubt intelligent, Bob remembering that as a child Kirsty could do amazing multiplication in her head such as 23 times 35, 77 times 59 and 61 squared and as a teenager could recite the periodic table of elements in order. However, the girl was also amazingly highly-strung, skittish and scatter-brained. Bob remembered taking the girl for a driving lesson in 1977 and had to fight the urge to leap from the moving car and run for it. Over 17 years later, he still had nightmares about this and a 1978 incident when Kirsty, now to the horror of Bob the holder of a driver's license issued by the State of Pennsylvania, tried driving an automatic car rather than the more familiar stick shift. Kirsty had put the car into 'Drive' rather than 'Reverse', and sped forward, Bob forced to jump onto the hood to avoid being run over.

Now Kirsty was an agricultural scientist based in Philadelphia, and Bob and Anna pondered how the academically clever but common sense deprived young woman got by. Being attractive, Kirsty had no trouble finding boyfriends but keeping them was the challenge for her. She had had more boyfriends than Anna could recall, this not the result of promiscuity but the guys not seeing much future with a young woman who was completely disorganized and forgetful.

"Hello Kirsty," said Bob politely.

"Hello Bob," said Kirsty, her slim figure entering the house. 

The very different brother and sister engaged in small talk about their respective jobs and how their summers were going that interested neither for a few minutes before Kirsty said, "I just need to use your bathroom." She mounted the stairs on her skinny legs, Bob glancing at the floor as Kirsty's white panties came into view, the girl's mini-skirt so short it was impossible to avoid this.

On the first floor, Dylan had discretely positioned himself so he could observe the slim figure of his hot young aunt as she reached the landing, and the diminutive young man felt his groin expanding as Kirsty's mini-skirt bounced up momentarily to show her white panty fabric. Kirsty's panties were of great interest to Dylan, and he had taken several opportunities to smell them in the past, loving his aunt's feminine smell. Another time Kirsty had been wearing pantyhose, and Dylan delighted in sniffing the oval-shaped fabric in the crotch that allowed Kirsty's vagina to breathe, the musty smell of warm pussy lingering in his memory banks to this day.

Dylan's erection grew more and more as Kirsty went into the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind her. Soon, his hot young aunt would pull down her panties and sit on the toilet just a matter of feet from him. Dylan always fantasized about attractive women who were showering or using the toilet when they visited the house. Of his sister's friends, pretty red-haired Bridget and Italian-American beauty Katrina, both working the summer as camp counsellors had most unusual ways of using the toilet. Without fail, Katrina would flush the toilet both before and after using it whether she needed a quick pee, or was on the toilet for some time as she moved her bowels and wiped herself with toilet paper. Bridget would sit on the toilet and empty her bladder and her bowels, stand up and flush it, then sit back down and get toilet paper to wipe herself clean, before flushing again when she finished.

Along the hallway in John's bedroom, unlike her perverted voyeur of a cousin Dylan, Breanna was fuming. This skinny bitch would ruin her prank on Kate. Hoping that she was only going to check her make-up Breanna held her breath, waiting.

In the bathroom, Kirsty was fortunately unaware that her using the bathroom was turning on her nephew and antagonizing the niece of her sister and brother. The pretty young woman checked for toilet paper and seeing a full roll on the holder, lifted her skirt and pulled her white bikini-style panties down to her ankles, showing a full bush of brown pubic hair over her mound. Kirsty sat her bare bottom onto the toilet, the slim lips of her pink vagina visible as she did, and the sound of her urinating filled the bathroom as her yellow pee stream emerged from her urethra.

Breanna cursed as she heard Kirsty peeing. The prank was ruined, completely ruined! Fuck it! In sharp contrast, Dylan was in raptures at the sound of his aunt's pee going into the toilet bowl. When the sound abated, in the silence of the house he heard Kirsty answer in the affirmative the question that has mystified men for years; 'Do pretty girls fart?' when his pretty young aunt farted loudly on the toilet, before a series faint splashing sounds as Kirsty emptied her bowels with what sounded like quite a rush.

Behind the closed and locked bathroom door, Kirsty sat on the toilet, her skirt hitched up around her waist and her white panties around her ankles, her feet visible in the shoes she was wearing. Kirsty reached for the toilet roll to unwind herself some toilet paper, the young woman paused with a puzzled expression as the toilet tissue failed to tear. She again tried, and again failed to unwind herself some toilet paper. The girl became more confused, frustrated and frantic as she tried again to get paper from the toilet roll, but then her face showed relief as she saw her salvation in the form of the doll whose dress covered the spare toilet roll.

Reaching up, Kirsty grabbed the toilet doll and removed the spare roll of toilet paper but the young woman was dismayed when she could not tear the tissue from this toilet roll either. "What on Earth?" she mumbled, her eyes roaming the bathroom for any more toilet paper or tissues, seeing nothing.

"Damn it," the frustrated Kirsty said under her breath as she contemplated her predicament; stranded on the toilet with her panties around her ankles, halfway through having a poo and toilet paper she could not tear from the roll. Despite her embarrassment, there was only one thing the girl could do. "Hello?" Kirsty called out. "Could somebody please help me?"

In most men's lives, there comes the time they have to rescue the woman they love when she has a toilet paper emergency. For Bob and Anna, this came a few days after Christmas 1975. Anna, in the last stages of her pregnancy with the twins and about ten days away from her due date had been lying down resting. John, then a toddler, had been racing around the house with the dogs unable to play outdoors due to the snow and sleet, the trio finding the toilet roll in the bathroom an ideal toy, removing all the tissue and taking it away for their games. Feeling a sudden urgency in her back passage, Anna had waddled across the hallway on sore bare feet to the bathroom, closed the door, pulled down her panties and sat on the toilet, so desperate she failed to check for toilet paper. As she emptied her bowels into the toilet, Anna reached across for some toilet paper and her facial expression turned to one of horror as her fingers made contact not with soft toilet tissue, but an empty cardboard tube.

Hearing his wife's frantic call for help, Bob had raced upstairs thinking she may have gone into labor early but found himself at a locked bathroom door, Anna saying that she had no toilet paper, and could he please help her. So Bob had to retrieve a new roll of toilet paper from the closet, get the bathroom door key and stand with his back to Anna, passing his heavily pregnant wife the toilet roll, her hand emerging to take it, before Bob closed the door to leave Anna to finish on the toilet in privacy.

John and Samantha's experience had come much earlier than that of his parents, the day of their high school graduation, the first Saturday of June 1992, a fine and sunny day. In households with a teenage daughter, the stocks of toilet paper tend to diminish more than usual when she is menstruating, and this was certainly the case in the Williams house with Samantha, who had her period in the week leading up to graduation. Her time of the month finished on the Friday, and on the Saturday morning Samantha had busied herself with chores which included cleaning the bathroom. Seeing that just two sheets of toilet paper remained on the roll, Samantha went to replace it but was distracted when the telephone in the kitchen rang. It was one of her girlfriends, and Samantha soon got absorbed talking about the graduation ceremony to be held that afternoon, and the fun they were all going to have that night.

The toilet paper situation was still unresolved when John arrived in the early afternoon, with Ted and Pat Williams keen to get some photographs of their daughter and her boyfriend wearing their graduation gowns and mortar boards. Chris, like many autistic people, had a tendency to become afraid of unfamiliar and unlikely things and he became freaked by his sister and her boyfriend wearing the unfamiliar graduation gowns and mortar boards. With Chris rocking back and forth working himself into a state, his parents had taken him for a walk up the street to try and calm him down, concerned about how he would react at Samantha's whole class dressed like this.

Samantha needed the toilet, so had gone upstairs into the bathroom, closed and locked the door, hitched up her skirt and pulled down her panties before sitting down on the toilet. Normally Samantha was always careful to check for toilet paper before she went to the toilet, but as she was cleaning the bathroom that very morning she was sure she had done everything so was less cautious. As Samantha emptied her bowels, the girl reached for the toilet roll and stopped in horror as her fingers found only two sheets of tissue and realized to her horror that she had forgotten the last and most important thing of cleaning bathrooms, and was stuck on the toilet with her panties around her ankles and not enough toilet paper.

Normally Samantha would have called out for her mother to help her, but with Pat Williams out of the house, the rescue mission fell to John. John took a roll of toilet paper from the closet and standing with his back to where the toilet was located and his eyes closed, passed it through the door to Samantha, the stranded teenager's hand emerging to grab it before she closed the door again, Samantha fitting the new toilet roll onto the holder so she could continue using the toilet. When Samantha finished and flushed the toilet, pulled up her panties and returned downstairs after washing her hands, she suggested to John that they never talk about this incident again, a proposal John was only too happy to agree with. 

Dylan of course was not married like his parents, nor did he have a serious relationship like John and Samantha so he had never encountered this situation before. However, he was keen to help a damsel in distress and hearing his aunt call out for help in the bathroom, was anxious to assist her with whatever problem she had. Would he be able to see more of Kirsty than he had ever dreamed of? Possibly, but seeing his hot young aunt's pubic hair and pussy would probably be unrealistic. However, there was a good chance of seeing her lowered panties if he was careful enough. Breathing heavily with anticipation and perspiring, Dylan went to get off the bed, but was so absorbed with his fantasies that he had not heard his father coming up the stairs, Bob passing by the bathroom when the stranded Kirsty called for help again. Dylan cursed under his breath as his father stole his thunder, walking over to the bathroom with a puzzled expression and knocking on the door.

"Kirsty? Is everything okay in there?" Bob asked.

"Oh Bob, thank God," came Kirsty's voice. "This is really embarrassing, but there's something wrong with the toilet paper."

Bob frowned. What the fuck was this latest drama with his scatter-brained sister? How could anything be wrong with the fucking toilet paper? "What do you mean, there's something wrong with the toilet paper Kirsty?" Bob asked, not comfortable at all about talking with his wife's much younger sister while she was on the toilet.

"I don't know, the toilet paper won't tear from the roll," said Kirsty.

"The toilet paper won't tear?" Bob asked incredulously.

"Yes, I can't tear the paper," said Kirsty, looking down at her feet and lowered panties. "Could you please get me some more toilet paper, or some tissues?"

"Okay, just hold on," said Bob.

"Well, I can't go anywhere," came Kirsty's reply.

Shaking his head, Bob walked over to the storage closet and took two rolls of toilet paper, taking them back to the bathroom door. "I'll open the door and walk in backwards, and you take them from me," said Bob. "Could you give me the problem toilet rolls?"

"Can you keep your eyes closed please?" Kirsty asked. The young woman closed her legs tightly, pulling her skirt down to ensure her pubic hair was completely covered.

"Of course," said Bob, the tone in his voice short, his patience wearing thinner by the minute after yet another bad day.

Bob unlocked and opened the bathroom door and walked backwards, his eyes closed in the direction of the toilet where Kirsty sat, Bob feeling her hands reach out and take the toilet rolls from him, replacing them with the fake toilet paper. He switched to breathing through his mouth very quickly as Kirsty's toilet smell entered his nostrils.

"Thank you!" Kirsty called as Bob beat a hasty retreat out of the bathroom, closing and locking the door to leave Kirsty to finish on the toilet in privacy.

Bob puzzled over the fake rolls of toilet paper, frowning as he like his sister was unable to tear any toilet paper from it. "What in hell?' he mumbled. Obviously this was some sort of prank. Breanna entered his mind as prime suspect, but Bob had no idea where his tramp of a niece was, so maybe not. It was definitely something that Dylan's idiot friends Wayne and Kenny would do, and if Bob found out they were responsible, he would skin them alive as well as Dylan for bringing them here. One thing was for sure, Bob was going to get to the bottom of this, but he had to work out a way to catch the culprit. If he confronted either Breanna or Dylan outright, but would simply deny it.

Taking the fake toilet rolls, Bob walked downstairs. Upstairs, Dylan still cursed at his father being the one who got to rescue Aunt Kirsty with her toilet paper problem rather than him, while the devious Breanna, still hiding in John's room, was feeling more than satisfied. While the prank had failed to catch Kate, she now had a considerable weapon to use against her fuck-head of an uncle. Rescuing his sister from a bathroom emergency was something that was obviously embarrassing to Bob, and probably something he wouldn't want to be revealed, especially in public ...

In the bathroom, Kirsty fitted one toilet roll onto the holder, placed the other under the doll, and unwound herself some toilet paper, wiping her pink pussy first, then getting a second length and using it to wipe her anus front to back.

Kirsty relaxed the muscles in her rectum, and more poo came oozing out of her anus, the young woman getting more toilet paper to again wipe her bottom. The pretty, pony-tailed brunette moved her bowels for the third and final time, before advancing the toilet roll three times to complete wiping herself clean. 

Standing up, Kirsty flushed the toilet, pulled up and adjusted her panties, smoothed down her skirt and washed her hands at the sink, before exiting the bathroom and going downstairs. She immediately met Bob as she walked to the front door, a definite awkwardness between the brother and sister after what had happened a few minutes earlier.

"So, I see my parents are home," said Kirsty.

"Yes, I saw them return about five minutes ago," said Bob.

"Your garden looks good," Kirsty volunteered.

"Yes, Anna and I like gardening," said Bob.

Kirsty opened the door, and said in a nervous, self-conscious manner, "Um Bob, thank you for being there for me, when um, you know?"

"Don't mention it," said Bob, as Kirsty exited the house to move her car to her parents' house where she would be sleeping the night, before driving back to Philadelphia the next morning. "No, really don't mention it, Kirsty," Bob grumbled as he closed the door.

The afternoon's events brought back memories of another embarrassing incident with his sister. This had taken place in 1979, when Kirsty was 18-years-old and a senior in high school. It was Bob and Anna's wedding anniversary, and they were going out to dinner at the nice restaurant in town, the same one where the family was going tonight with the Williams family, although back then it had a different owner and name. Kirsty had volunteered to baby-sit the three kids, something that Bob and Anna had reservations about. Kirsty was hopelessly absent-minded, and while five-year-old John and three-year-old Kate would behave themselves, Dylan was a different story, the hyperactive three-year-old certain to misbehave for his inexperienced aunt.




Trailer Trash Teen Hates Rules Ch. 06



However, a lack of baby-sitters meant that Kirsty got the job, and the girl drove over to their house from the farm. Kirsty obviously did not wear a tee-shirt to advertise that she had her period, and Bob of course did not question his sister about her menstrual cycle, so he had no idea that Kirsty was on her period. The brother and sister-in-law would have obviously been happy had it stayed this way, but fate had a different plan for them and as Anna got ready upstairs Kirsty made herself comfortable on the couch to study her physics and chemistry books.

When Anna came downstairs, dressed in a pretty blue dress with Bob wearing a suit, Kirsty stood up to wish them the best for their evening out, and Bob and Anna stopped short at the sight of the teenager's jeans and the white couch she had been sitting on.

A huge red stain was evident in the crotch and on the back of Kirsty's jeans, a similar red stain over the white fabric of the couch. Kirsty had looked and her face showed horror at what had happened. It seemed that among the packet of sanitary napkins Kirsty had purchased to manage her period, one pad was defective and of course it was the one she had adhered to the saddle of her panties this evening.

The highly-strung, nervous Kirsty immediately got into a state, bursting into tears, panicking and getting asthma, Anna taking her younger sister upstairs to get her calmed down and cleaned up. Bob faced the horror of getting a bucket of cold water, a cloth and a scrubbing brush and washing Kirsty's menstrual blood from the sofa before it dried and left a permanent stain.

Upstairs, it was fortunate that Kirsty had a change of panties in her purse, but had to wear a pair of her sister's jeans which did not fit well as while Anna was slim, Kirsty was flat out skinny. With the skittish Kirsty too upset to continue her babysitting assignment, Bob and Anna's anniversary plans went out the window. Anna, after putting Kirsty's jeans and panties into cold water to soak out her menses, had to drive Kirsty home to the farm in the younger woman's car, Bob following with the three kids in their car.

With Kirsty delivered home to her parents, Bob and Anna had to take their three young children to a kid-friendly restaurant in town, where things only got worse. Bob and Anna, dressed up nicely for the evening, were one of two reasons the family stood out like a bull in a china shop that night. The other, more significant reason, was Dylan.

The hyperactive three-year-old wasted no time in making an impression. This started with Dylan pointing at a family at an adjacent table – a 400-pound father, 350-pound mother and two boys and a girl who were butterballs of blubber and shouting out across the restaurant, "Look how fat they are!" Next, the kids were playing on the playground equipment, Dylan racing around pretending to be a dog, before pushing another boy down the slide. Unsupervised for just ten seconds as the family returned to their table was enough for Dylan to notice a display of small model dinosaurs nearby. There was a brontosaurus, a stegosaurus, an iguaunadon, a duck-billed dinosaur, a triceratops, a pterodactyl and a plesiosaurus, but it was the tyrannosaurus that interested Dylan the most. So taken with the tyrannosaurus was Dylan that he ran over to the display, grabbed it and trust it into an elderly woman's face from behind, roaring loudly and causing the old lady to choke on her soup from the shock, her false teeth flying out of her mouth.

Despite being reprimanded by both parents for these incidents and his continuing misbehavior at the table, Dylan throwing food around and smearing it on his face rather than eating it, he showed no sign of paying any attention. Then John, tired of Dylan's antics but as a five-year-old lacking the maturity to act appropriately, grabbed a jug of soda and poured the contents over Dylan's head, to which his younger brother screamed like a banshee and kept right on screaming as though he was being murdered, everyone looking over at their table.

In the middle of this drama Kate, who had been quiet and well-behaved all evening, announced, "I'm sick." As parents of small children, Bob and Anna were aware that this warning was delivered with very little warning, but this evening Kate failed to give the courtesy of any warning, immediately vomiting all over the floor. The only person who failed to notice this was the 400-pound father who was returning from the buffet with yet another plate of food, before his legs went out from under him, his enormous bulk landing in Kate's sick. After that, the Wilson family did not return to this restaurant.

Movement behind him caught Bob's attention and brought him back to the present. His face hardened as his eyes took in Breanna, the girl having snuck back downstairs while Bob was talking to Kirsty. "Hey, I want to talk to you," said Bob sternly.

Breanna regarded her uncle with a smug expression, designed to get him angrier. Bob glared at his niece, seeing that certain look about her that she had when smoking marijuana. Bob had gone to the trailer park one Saturday morning to see Wyatt about some financial matter and it was obvious that both his niece and slacker nephew Dustin had been doing pot, both teenagers stinking of it and having a look of being stoned, something their mother and father seemingly could not give a shit about. This afternoon, Breanna's heavy cigarette smoking covered up the smell of the marijuana, but Bob was sure she had been smoking dope.

"What is it?" snapped Breanna.

"You know damn well what it is," said Bob furiously. "I went out of my way to get you some intern work, and you vanish by mid-morning. I want an explanation, and I want it now."

"I already told Woody, that fucking Jesus freak you made me work with that I had girls' problems and had to leave work," said Breanna. 

"So, what did you do all day?" Bob wanted to know.

There was no way Breanna was going to tell her uncle the truth, although she would have loved to have seen his face if she said, "Shoplifted from a supermarket, made out with Isabella, me and Isabella robbed a panel store of cash, went to a drug house to buy pot, allowed the drug dealer to satisfy his foot fetish before Issy and I sucked his cock and then we went to have a threesome with our former math teacher in a seedy motel."

Instead, Breanna said defensively, "I was here all fucking day in the back yard getting better."

"Do you think I was born yesterday, Breanna?" Bob stormed. "That is complete bullshit, and I want the truth."

"Prove it," said Breanna smugly.

Bob could feel his blood pressure rising each second this conversation continued. "So, do I go back to work tomorrow with you?" Breanna asked.

Her uncle remained silent, Bob completely uncertain on what to do. He did not want her at work, it had been a complete disaster, but if she did not return it would mean Breanna had won. Bob faced a similar quandary about tonight. Breanna was the last person he wanted to have at the family dinner with Samantha's family, but leaving his niece to her own devices at the house was too big a risk. The girl seemed to read his thoughts, Breanna asking, "So am I stuck with you people having a boring dinner tonight?"

"You don't deserve to be coming out to dinner," said Bob sternly.

"Good, I'd rather stay here," said Breanna.

"But you will be coming with us," Bob continued. "If we leave you here, we'll probably come back to our street being turned into a full-on rave party, a rock concert, a swingers' convention or some other insanity."

"How fabulous," sneered Breanna.

"And at the dinner tonight, you will be keeping quiet for once in your life and show some respect," Bob warned her. "Now, after working hard all day, I have things to do here."

Bob turned and walked down the hallway, Breanna giving her uncle two obscene hand gestures before returning to the room where she was sleeping as other family members returned. First was Kate, the girl immediately heading for the bathroom and closing and locking the door behind her. As Kate used the toilet, relieved that her period was finally over for another month, the pretty brunette was clueless about the mean-spirited toilet paper prank initially planned for her and how it had instead caught her Aunt Kirsty.

Next home was John, Breanna observing that her cousin was in a particularly good mood. John was indeed in a good mood, albeit mixed with nerves as he contemplated the dinner, and how he and Samantha would announce their engagement for the first time. Even when they were kids, John had dreamed of how great it would be to marry his childhood sweetheart when they grew up. 

In the first grade, the class had been set a weekend homework project of a free choice drawing to be displayed at school. John had drawn a picture of himself and Samantha as adults getting married, before the boy had 'what the hell was I thinking?' moment and wishing to avoid ridicule for both himself and Samantha, had got another piece of paper and drawn a more typical boy's picture of tanks, soldiers, dinosaurs, aircraft and UFOs. 

Two years after this John and Samantha had had their First Holy Communions together, and one of the photographs in both the Wilson and Williams houses showed them together, John smartly dressed in a suit and Samantha a white communion dress. In his younger years, John would often look at the photographs, dreaming of the day when as adults they would stand together, he again in a suit and Samantha once more in a white dress, and be married. As they grew into their teenage years and began dating, any number of romantic songs entered John's head whenever he saw or thought of Samantha. 

Anna was the last home, Breanna encountering her aunt in the kitchen. The older woman frowned at her niece. "I hope you're pleased with yourself, Breanna," she said. "Running off from work after less than a day, when your uncle went out of his way for you to be an intern."

Breanna shrugged her shoulders and glared at her aunt. "I heard the same thing from your husband."

"And now you're hearing it from me," said Anna sternly.

"Why don't you take something for PMS, and give Bob the same medication?" Breanna asked rudely. "You could both use it."

Anna deliberately invaded Breanna's personal space, unwavering. "We have all had enough of your attitude and behavior, young lady. Tonight you will be invisible at the restaurant, and keep your filthy, foul mouth shut. Is that clear, Breanna?"

Breanna glared at her aunt, silently made the gesture of zipping up her mouth and turned on her feet, walking away with Anna shaking her head. Like Bob, the last thing Anna wanted was Breanna at the family dinner tonight, but leaving her niece to her own devices was a worse option.

When the Wilson family climbed into the van to drive into the town, Breanna again stood out with her revealing blouse and short skirt, in stark contrast to her smartly dressed relatives. Kate, while looking nice, also stood out as the orange dress she wore accentuated her E-cup breasts. Bob drove, and Kirsty followed in her car with her and Anna's parents, Tom and Alice Doyle.

Bob and Kirsty parked their cars in time to see Samantha pull her car to a halt in a nearby space, the beautiful strawberry blonde dressed in a pretty teal dress. Her brother Chris stepped out of front passenger seat, clutching some colored pencils and a note-book, looking around nervously. Their parents Ted and Patricia Williams got out of the back of the car.

Samantha and John greeted each other warmly with a light kiss on the lips, and their hands joined. Breanna sighed in cynicism. "I could throw up," were her less-than-complimentary thoughts about John and Samantha's relationship.

Everyone greeted each other, Breanna feeling the looks of disapproval upon her from Anna and Kirsty's parents and Ted and Pat Williams, before they walked across the street to the restaurant, a few drops of warm summer rain falling as they did so.

The restaurant was called Restaurant Grande, and as its name suggested it was the highest quality in the town. It was also very popular, this Wednesday night close to full. The restaurant was managed by a flamboyant and extremely fussy homosexual who was always referred to as 'Mr. Tyler'. It could be assumed that his surname was Tyler, but in fact this was his first name and this evening he could be observed with a female member of staff talking severely to a recalcitrant young male waiter. The young man, aged about 19, tall, dark-haired and reasonably good-looking, wore a sulky facial expression that clearly read, 'I am totally bored here and could not hate my job any more'.

Breanna observed the young man, and despite her day including a threesome with her best friend Isabella and their former teacher in a cheap motel, and she and Isabella indulging a drug-dealer's penchant for foot-fetishism when buying grass, her sex drive was rarely satisfied. Inside the teenager's panties, her vagina moistened and her clitoris tingled as Breanna imagined the waiter shoving his cock hard into her snatch.

Dylan stood next to Kate and fiddled with his collar as his parents and Samantha's parents spoke with the hostess. Dylan glanced at Samantha, still feeling awkward about the incident at the bank in the morning, snapping the elastic band and having it fly through the air and hit Samantha on one of her breasts. Dylan's glance wandered to Chris, and Dylan could see he was not the only one who felt uncomfortable.

Chris, like many autistics disliking large groups of people, sought solace in a chair at the front of the restaurant, getting his notepad and pencils and beginning to draw rainbows, his major interest in life. The young man hoped he would be left alone, but his wish was not one that would be granted, with the bored Breanna noticing, seeing that the older members of their party were occupied and deciding to stir up some trouble. She remembered the patronizing way that Megan Delaney girl had spoken to Chris at church on Sunday, and deliberately did the same as she approached Chris.

"Hey Chris, what are you doing there?" Breanna asked, leaning over his shoulder. "Can Miss Breanna have a look at your drawings?"

Chris defensively and silently turned away from the newcomer, but Breanna simply moved with him and closer. "Miss Breanna noticed that you've been drawing your rainbows all wrong," Breanna continued. "There's no pink in rainbows, and you've left out the indigo."

Samantha, always protective of her disabled younger sibling, went to put a stop to this straight away. "Breanna, can you not speak to Chris please?" she asked.

"Why not, it's a free country?" retorted Breanna.

"Breanna, you stop that now," ordered John.

"All I was doing was talking to him like that Megan girl from church," said Breanna, putting on a charade of innocence. "I thought he liked people talking to him like that."

"No he does not like it, and that's obvious by how he's sitting," said Samantha, going over to her brother, John at her shoulder. "Just let him be, okay?"

Samantha and Breanna exchanged glares. The two girls had gotten off to a bad start in childhood, and never liked each other, although Samantha was hardly alone in her dislike of Breanna. They first met at a picnic when Samantha was six and Breanna four, Samantha accompanying the Wilson family for a day out, her parents giving their daughter a break from the trials and tribulations of having a special-needs sibling with major problems that tended to dominate her home life. Breanna, already accustomed to life on the wrong of the side of the tracks and amazingly cynical for a girl so young could not believe what she was seeing with Samantha. Samantha just seemed too cutesy, too nice for her own good, her good manners and polite demeanor coming across to Breanna as phony, as though Samantha wanted something and was manipulating people to get it. That Samantha was well brought-up, and genuinely had good manners and was grateful for her day's outing, did not occur to Breanna.

Another thing Breanna could not miss was the fact that her cousin John appeared very much taken with Samantha and vice versa. Already experienced at being a pest, Breanna had taunted the other two kids at every chance that arose with taunts of 'John loves Samantha', 'John has a girlfriend!' and the song, 'John and Samantha sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G!'

More significant was an encounter a few years later, just before Christmas 1985 when Samantha was battling cancer. Rosanne had invited herself and her brood of kids, including Breanna and Dustin, along for a Saturday shopping excursion with Anna and Pat Williams and their respective kids, after Anna made the mistake of telling her sister about her plans. All Breanna heard from her mother in the car on the way over was about how Samantha was a very brave girl who was very sick, and she was not to bother Samantha in any way. This annoyed Breanna no-end, given that despite not liking Samantha Breanna genuinely felt bad for her, and would never tease a child with cancer. So thanks to her mother, Breanna was in a very bad mood when they reached the mall in the nice side of town.

Rosanne's kids behaved pretty much to form, Dustin teaching his cousin Dylan new ways to misbehave in public and the younger kids, some of whom were recovering from colds ran riot, sneezing and spraying germs everywhere. Samantha, who wore a pink jacket and blue jeans with a pink scarf over her head, and Chris stuck close by their mother, with Kate, John and Anna walking alongside them. 

Breanna, quiet and observing things could not help but miss the disapproving looks Pat Williams gave Breanna's younger brothers and sisters as they got too close to Samantha. Pat reached into her purse and took out a surgical-style face mask, Samantha putting it on to cover her nose and mouth. Then at lunch in the food court, Pat ordered food for herself and her son, before taking a plastic container out of her bag containing Samantha's lunch – boiled chicken and vegetables – and politely asked the lady who ran the stall if she would mind warming it up in the microwave. The lady agreed with a smile, saying to Pat how she hoped her daughter felt better soon. Then Pat had sat her kids away from Breanna's family, talking with Anna and mentioning about how she had had to take Samantha out of school when there was an outbreak of chicken pox, an illness Samantha had never had to date.

While Breanna, even at the age of nine disrespected her own family immensely, she fumed if she perceived that anybody else did so. The girl also knew little about cancer, nor should she have done so given her young age and lack of experience with the subject, and therefore had a simplistic view of oncology. People with cancer lost their hair, and they either got better or they died, which was very sad. Breanna had no idea of the side effects of chemotherapy such as stomach problems, fatigue and reduced immunity, and therefore took Mrs. Williams actions not as a mother protecting her sick child, but as an insult and a slight upon her family. And far from seeing Samantha as brave, Breanna saw the older girl as weak, a girl who needed to be cossetted and shielded from every little thing, such as younger children with minor colds, having to eat special food and being excused from school when there was some illness going around.

Throughout adolescence, the girls had continued to dislike each other on the limited occasions they met, although the polite Samantha would always disguise it and now as adults, they disliked each other as much as ever. However, Breanna knew the one thing that would send Samantha into a spin, the thing that annoyed her more than anything else and employed this tactic now, changing her glare to a smile of false charm.




Trailer Trash Teen Hates Rules Ch. 06



"Fine, I don't want to go upsetting the re ..." she began, pausing for effect and noticing with satisfaction the horror on the faces of Samantha, John and Kate, before continuing. "...luctant young man," she finished, with a smug smirk before walking away.

Samantha fumed, as there was nothing she hated more than anybody referring to her younger brother as a 'retard'. "You wouldn't want to say what you were about to say Breanna," said Samantha, her face flushed red, her expression furious, the girl pacing back and forth, John and Kate trying to calm her down, the brother and sister glaring at their cousin.

Breanna was well pleased with the drama she had created, and decided to create another as the party were being escorted to their table, which was located towards the front of the restaurant near the windows. On the sidewalk outside were a number of statues; two of the town's founding fathers, another of a woman in colonial dress and a fourth of a horse. "So do we get a smoking table or what?" Breanna asked rudely.

Mr. Tyler happened to be passing by and addressed the girl, having already seen her and pegged her as a potential trouble-maker. "Miss, there is NO smoking at Restaurant Grande," he said.

"So what do I do when I want a cigarette?" snapped Breanna.

"If you feel you must smoke, then you will take yourself out of Restaurant Grande," said Mr. Tyler. "And you will not stand smoking outside the front doors cheapening this establishment, you will make your way down the street to have your cigarette."

"Fucking faggot," said Breanna as the man walked away, the comment gaining the girl much attention from her own party, restaurant staff and other diners who looked over at her.

"Breanna!" snapped Anna.

"He is a faggot," retorted Breanna.

"You know young lady, when I was a girl I would have been grateful if my aunt and uncle had taken me out for dinner at a fine restaurant like this," said Alice Doyle, the elderly woman with neatly-set snow-white hair and glasses casting a disapproving glare at Breanna.

"I thought you would be too worried about out-running sabre-tooth tigers and wooly mammoths to go out to dinner when you were a girl," said Breanna.

"When you disrespect my wife by making comments like that, you disrespect yourself more by proving that you cannot behave like an adult in public," said Tom Doyle, the gray-haired man also glaring at the mini-skirted blonde teenager.

"Breanna!" Bob said. "What did I say earlier?"

"You say a lot of things, and most of them are crap," said Breanna.

"I said that you will keep quiet tonight, and show some respect!" Bob boomed, his voice travelling through the restaurant and people looking over, staring at him.

Mr. Tyler also stopped and frowned, walking over to the fuming Bob. "Is there a problem here, Sir?" he asked.

"I'm just taking care of it," said Bob.

Mr. Tyler sighed in his effeminate manner. "Sir, our customers expect to enjoy their meals at Restaurant Grande without drama, and for that reason allow me to make it clear to you that there is no shouting at Restaurant Grande." With that, Mr. Tyler went on his way.

Bob glowered at Breanna, the girl smirking at the dressing down her uncle had received from the pretentious faggot. Bob looked like a bear that had awoken with a migraine, and the nervous, highly-strung Kirsty adjusted her glasses, reached into her purse and took out her asthma inhaler, taking in a few puffs.

Kirsty was not the only one who was apprehensive. Samantha looked in dismay at Breanna, who was clearly in one of her moods to cause trouble, but the pretty strawberry blonde's face fell even more as she glanced at the small table adjacent to their own. 

John noticed Samantha's expression and took her hand in his. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"Look who it is," said Samantha quietly.

Instantly, John recognized the slim, blonde, middle-aged woman whom along with her husband was being escorted to the table by a waiter. It was Mrs. Hayes, the neurotic hypochondriac whom had made an exhibition of herself at their school years earlier, horrified that Samantha was allowed to attend classes when well enough between cancer treatments. John sighed and fumed that not only did his fiancée had to put up with Breanna and her antics on such an important evening, Samantha had to sit near a woman whom had caused her family problems at a time that was difficult for them, and whom years later still treated Samantha as though the girl had typhoid or leprosy.

Seeing Samantha was so on edge, John guided her a short distance away to a near some indoor plants so they were out of earshot. "I don't believe it," he said.

"Me either," said Samantha. "You know she was in the bank just yesterday? Didn't want to be served by me, didn't want me to touch her things."

"Stupid woman," said John of Mrs. Hayes, shaking his head.

"I think she thinks that I'm radioactive or something," observed Samantha. "And with Breanna and everything else ..."

"I was thinking, if you don't want to make our big announcement tonight I would understand," said John. He did not want to delay announcing their engagement, but the night was hardly going well so far, and if Samantha did not feel up to it he understood.

Samantha's thoughts were the same as those of her fiancé. The evening was going badly so far, but there was no way she wanted to delay any further such wonderful news. "No, let's do it tonight like we planned," said Samantha. "I've been keeping it a secret since Sunday, I don't think I can wait any more."

"Neither could I," said John, giving Samantha a kiss and joining hands with her, the two young lovers walking back to the table hand in hand.

At the adjacent table, Mrs. Hayes seemed not to have noticed Samantha. This all changed when John and Samantha returned to their own table, and Samantha's slim figure appeared in the woman's line of sight. The woman stopped and froze with an expression of horror, then frantically turned to her husband, a slim and unassuming man with light brown hair and glasses.

"Ralph, get the manager and tell him we want to change tables," she said urgently.

"What is the problem, this is a perfectly good table?" said Mr. Hayes.

"Never mind, if you won't do it, I will," snapped Mrs. Hayes. She snapped her fingers and Mr. Tyler, who was passing by.

Not impressed by being summoned by such rudeness, Mr. Tyler made his way over to Mr. and Mrs. Hayes' table. "Can I help you madam?"

"Yes, my husband and I want a new table right now," said Mrs. Hayes.

"I'm sorry madam, but I'm afraid that isn't possible," said Mr. Tyler. "Restaurant Grande is fully booked this evening. Is there a problem with this table that I can assist you with?"

"This is the most appalling service I have ever encountered," said Mrs. Hayes, debating the table subject with Mr. Tyler for over two minutes before she gave up and was resigned to remaining at this table. The woman sulked, glowering nervously at Samantha as her husband did nothing.

Mr. Tyler soon had another customer service drama to deal with at another table. The young waiter whom Breanna had observed being reprimanded earlier was standing at a table, wearing his "I don't care about my job' expression as the party ordered their dessert. "How should I know if the fruit salad has fresh fruit in it?" was the young man's surly response to the question of a female customer.

"Are you able to enquire with the chef?" asked the woman, dismayed by such rudeness.

"You just have to have what's on the menu," was the waiter's response.

Mr. Tyler sighed and scurried over. "Ryan ..." he called out.

Sitting between Dylan and Kirsty, Breanna watched everyone look through the menus as bread was brought to their table. The urge for nicotine was far greater than Breanna's urge for food, and she grabbed her purse and stood up.

"Where are you going?" asked Anna.

"For a smoke," said Breanna.

"Oh no, you're not," said Anna. "Tonight, you sit and have dinner with us with no smoking."

"Okay then, I'll go to the bathroom instead," said Breanna.

"There's no smoking in the ladies' room," her aunt reminded her.

"I'm not going to smoke," snapped Breanna.

"We'll, you won't need your purse then, will you?" asked Anna. She held out her hand.

Breanna sighed, rolled her eyes and with reluctance, handed it to her aunt. Walking through the restaurant, her mini-skirt attracting attention, Breanna smiled to herself. She had anticipated that having a cigarette might be difficult, so had been prepared. In the waist of Breanna's pink panties was a small plastic bag, containing a number of cigarettes and a lighter. Fuck her family, fuck this restaurant and fuck the rules, Breanna was going to smoke.

At the table, Samantha's nerves grew at the latest Breanna drama and catching a particularly venomous glare from Mrs. Hayes put her even more on edge. Coupled with the apprehension about making such a big announcement, the nerves impacted Samantha where they usually did, in her digestive system. The butterflies in her stomach turned into a massive feeling of urgency in her rectum within seconds, and Samantha hurriedly got to her feet.

"I just need the ladies' room," said Samantha, the pretty young woman making haste for the female toilets, following Breanna inside.

The gleaming, immaculate female bathroom contained three toilet cubicles located next to other. Samantha was dismayed as Breanna chose the middle stall, feeling self-conscious about using the toilet in such close proximity to John's trashy cousin. The young woman would have much preferred it if Breanna would have chosen the left or right stall, then there would have been a spare stall between them in the middle to allow her some privacy. Still, for Samantha it was a 'when you've got to go, you've got to go,' situation so she could do little about it. Even if this was a unisex bathroom like they had in Europe and two guys occupied the left and right stalls, Samantha would have had no choice but to go into the center stall, pull down her panties and sit on the toilet for a poo.

Samantha walked into the stall on Breanna's right, closing and locking the door behind her. The young woman checked that she had adequate toilet paper, then lifted her dress to reveal her light blue, bikini-style panties. Samantha pulled her panties down to her ankles, her triangle of strawberry blonde pubic hair and her shapely bare bottom uncovered as her panties went down, before the girl sat on the toilet, positioning herself so she was comfortable, the sound of Samantha urinating echoing around the ladies' room as her pee stream went into the bowl.

As Samantha emptied her bowels, Breanna glanced under the stall partition, seeing Samantha's lowered blue panties and feet. Breanna herself sat on the toilet, but on the lid with her panties still up as she did not actually need to go. The girl had removed her cigarettes and lighter from inside her panties, and holding one to her lips, lit it and inhaled the smoke into her mouth and deep into her lungs.

In the next stall, Samantha was just reaching for the toilet paper when she heard the sound of the cigarette lighter. The young woman paused as pondered if this was just her imagination, but as Samantha advanced the toilet roll, got a length of toilet paper and used it to wipe herself, the unmistakable smell of cigarette smoke entered her nose.

"Oh for fuck's sake," Samantha thought to herself in despair. She hated the smell of cigarette smoke at the best of times, but given the strict no-smoking policy at this restaurant, Breanna's actions could only lead to trouble. The smell of cigarette smoke got stronger, but Samantha was nowhere near finished, so was stuck on the toilet. 

Running out of patience, Samantha found her voice. "Breanna, are you smoking?" she called out.

In the next stall, Breanna feverishly sucked in the cigarette smoke and grinned at the discomfort she was obviously causing to Samantha. "Yeah, you want one Samantha?"

"No, I do not," came Samantha's indignant reply. 

"Suit yourself," Breanna called back, finishing the first cigarette, stubbing out the butt and lighting a second smoke.

"You can't smoke in here," responded Samantha.

"Who's going to stop me? You or the faggot who runs this fucking place?" scoffed Breanna arrogantly.

Sighing, Samantha could only continue to use the toilet as Breanna finished her second cigarette. Samantha felt relief as she heard Breanna open the door to the center stall, but then jumped in shock as two objects fell down on her from above, one hitting her on her left arm, the other landing on the floor near her lowered panties. The girl's expression was one of anger and revulsion as she realized what they were – Breanna's cigarette butts, which the trashy teenager had thrown over the top of the stall just to annoy her even more. Breanna herself grinned at the way she had irritated Samantha, and exited the bathroom and back into the restaurant, planning how she could cause even more mayhem for the evening.

Samantha shook her head in despair, the ladies' room absolutely stinking of cigarette smoke, and she took deep breaths as she got some toilet paper and finished on the toilet. The pretty young woman stood up, put down the toilet lid and flushed the toilet, before pulling up her panties and smoothing down her dress. The lock on the door changed from 'Engaged' to 'Vacant' as Samantha opened the door and walked to the sink. Thoroughly washing her hands with soap and warm water, Samantha glanced back into the toilet stall she had vacated and noticed the cigarette butts that lay on the floor. She did not want to touch them, but if anybody else came in they might think it was her that was smoking. Samantha hastily went back into the stall, retrieved the butts and went to wrap them in a paper towel for disposal.

Unfortunately, at this very moment the external door opened, and a middle-aged woman with dark hair and glasses, wearing the restaurant uniform. Her eyes took in the sight of Samantha with the cigarette butts in her fingers, and her nose the smell of cigarette smoke.

The woman fixed Samantha with a stern glare, and pointed at a no smoking sign on the wall. "Miss, there is no smoking in the ladies' room. In fact, there is no smoking here, at all."

"I wasn't smoking," Samantha protested. "Somebody else was smoking and I was just picking up the butts ..."

Samantha could see by the woman's expression that she did not believe her for a second. She glared at Samantha, and said, "Your name is Samantha Williams, isn't it?"

"Yes, that's right," affirmed Samantha.

"My kids went to the same school with you," said the woman. "I'm Judy Clark, my son Grant was in your year, my daughter in the year after."

"Oh yes, I remember them now," said Samantha.

"Well, young lady I don't make a habit of telling customers how to conduct their lives," said Mrs. Clark, continuing to fix Samantha with a glare of steel. "But you should be absolutely ashamed of yourself."

"I'm sorry?" asked Samantha.

"When you were sick as a child, our family were really worried for you," said Mrs. Clark. "My kids made you a get well soon card, and we prayed for you."

Samantha thought back, and remembered the hand-made card the Clark family had sent, one of many cards she had received when she had cancer. All these were stored in a box in the attic, Samantha not wanting to look at them and bring up painful memories, but unable to bring herself to throw them away given people had cared enough about her to write. "Mrs. Clark, I don't smoke. I never smoke."

Mrs. Clark again glowered at her. "You can lie to me all you wish, but you can't lie to yourself. Hundreds of kids die from cancer each year, you recovered and then you throw all the support and good wishes you received back in everyone's faces by smoking? Your parents must be so proud of you."

With that, the woman walked past Samantha to restock the paper towels, and the dismayed Samantha gave her hands a second wash before returning to her table, the young woman observing Mrs. Hayes flinch as Samantha got too close to her. John taking her hand in his as she sat down reassured Samantha somewhat. The group placed their orders, and bread was brought to the table along with drinks.

John looked imploringly at Samantha, his expression saying, 'Should we do it now?', and Samantha nodded in acknowledgement. Both filled with nervous excitement, the young couple got to their feet and John found his voice.

"Samantha and I have some news," he said. "Some really big news. On Sunday, I asked Samantha to marry me, and I'm very happy to say that she said yes."

Everyone at the table was quiet as the news sunk in. "It's true," affirmed Samantha. "We're now engaged."

John took the jewelry box containing the engagement ring, and slipped it onto Samantha's left ring finger, where it would now stay permanently, the young couple kissing discretely on the lips.

Bob was the first to react, getting to his feet and shaking his son's hand. "Congratulations," he said, embracing the young woman who would now be his daughter.

"Yes, congratulations," said Anna, embracing her son and then Samantha, filled with delight and pride at such great news. "What a wonderful surprise."

Samantha's parents were next to congratulate the newly-engaged couple, followed by Kate, Dylan, Kirsty and Anna's parents. Two members of the group, however, remained aloof. The first was Chris, the autistic young man remaining engrossed in sketching a rainbow in his note-book. His disability ensured that he had no concept of the situation, and how it was so important to his older sister and her boyfriend, and their parents and families.

The second was Breanna. The cynical, sarcastic teenager had no interest in the moment, Breanna lacking any sense of romance. To her, it was overly-sentimental and sappy and embarrassing. Breanna observed everyone sitting back down again, and her cynicism turned to disbelief as Pat Williams began to cry, her solemn-faced husband putting a hand on her shoulder to reassure her. 

Then Samantha moved across, putting an arm around her mother's shoulders. "Oh Mom," she said gently, handing her mother some tissues and trying to comfort her.

Pat accepted the tissues and tried to control her tears, but was unable to do so, crying more and more. Samantha felt herself becoming tearful, and used one of the tissues to wipe her own eyes. "You've set me off now, Mom."

"Please promise me that you'll wear my old wedding dress when you get married," sobbed Pat Williams.

"I promise, I wouldn't wear anything else," said Samantha through her own tears.

Most everyone at the table understood the gravity of the situation for Ted and Pat Williams. While a child getting engaged is a big event for any parents, there is more emotion when the child overcame a life-threatening illness or accident; or there is another child in the family who is disabled and can never reach such a milestone. In the Williams family, both were true.

Parenting had seemed so easy to Ted and Pat Williams in April 1974, when they brought home their beautiful, healthy baby daughter Samantha. A perfect baby who grew into a wonderful, well-behaved and generous child, Samantha was delighted at the age of two when her parents brought home her brother Chris from the hospital, their son completing their family.

However, as time went by it was clear that something was amiss with their son. At first it seemed that Chris might be a late bloomer, not reaching the same infancy and early childhood milestones as his older sister did so easily, but when there was still no improvement Mr. and Mrs. Williams sought medical advice. The diagnosis of autism was devastating, and Chris's problems tended to dominate the house. Samantha was amazing for a girl so young at the time, always putting her special-needs brother first and always helping her parents.