True Love IV - The Trailer It's so hot inside your small, rusting trailer. The air conditioner worked for a while, but keeps breaking down. Erin gave you a number to call, a handy-man, she called him. But it takes days for him to show up, and by then the trailer is an oven every day by noon. When he finally arrives, he ogles you as though you are a juicy steak and he hasn't eaten in a week. But who could blame him - you in your little- girl tube top, not even wide enough to conceal the bottom curves of your meaty tits, soaked with sweat, nipples showing through the transparent material as though you're wearing nothing at all. And those tiny white stretch shorts Erin bought you - covering only half of your ass-cheeks, and so narrow at the crotch that your pussy-lips keep escaping on both sides. He's a large man, six foot six, two hundred sixty pounds of raw, shining, black muscle. Jerome. Jerome the giant. Your stomach churns every time you see the huge bulge in his jeans. He isn't too bright, but knows the game he's been hired to play all too well. "Ms. Erin says you been eyein' Jerome. Ms. Erin says you know how to thank a big strong man for helpin' out, for fixin' things, y' know?" You hate it when he paws you, when he pushes his huge hands under the tube top and squeezes your tits like he's testing two melons for ripeness. But you let him. You let him every time. Because she wants you to. No, not wants, commands it. You oooh and aaah as he drags the shorts over your hips, then worms two thick fingers inside you. You know all too well how the game ends - you on your knees, inhaling the tip of his giant prick into your waiting mouth, sucking, your fingers gently caressing his balls until you feel his hot, thick cum coat your tongue and roll over the back of your throat like a slow, rancid river. The latch on the door is broken, and it hangs open, the bright afternoon sun shining in on the two of you like a circus spotlight. A small group of young boys gather outside, pointing and laughing as they watch you on your knees, sucking the cum out of the black giant. You cringe, knowing that they'll go home with stories, stories that will bring their redneck fathers and big brothers around for more of the same. But Erin didn't send them, and when you turn them away with disgust, they hate you for being the cock-tease that you are. Their wives hate you too. Most of them, that is. They call you a slut to your face - a nigger-fucker, a cheap whore. You stay inside the sweltering trailer during the day to avoid them, your body drenched with sweat, your skimpy clothing clinging to you like a second skin. Last week the woman from the trailer next to yours appeared at your door. "You have a phone call," she shouted, grinning as you followed her inside her own air-conditioned home. It was Erin. She hadn't let you have a phone of your own. She said you would be a pest, calling her whenever you felt the need to whine about one thing or another. Her voice made your pussy throb, even over the phone. "So, I see you've met Carla," she had said. "I owe her a favor, so I want you to be very nice to her, understand? I just know that you and Carla will become very close friends. In fact, I expect it. You do know what I mean, don't you, my pet?" You knew exactly what she meant. Carla stood grinning at you while you listened to Erin's wishes. Broad- shouldered and square-jawed, she could have easily been mistaken for a man, except for her enormous breasts that jutted forward obscenely under the ragged t-shirt. From behind she could have been a dock-worker - her ass so wide and heavy that she lumbered when she walked. You became close friends alright. She showed up at your door nearly every night from then on, eager to clench your sweet face between her bloated, sweaty thighs, eager to have you lap at her foul fuck-hole until she screamed so loud the neighbors complained. But tonight she has other ideas. She shows up in black leather pants and a leather top that pushes her enormous breasts so high they burst over the top of the low-cut vest. She fastens a thick dog collar around your neck, then attaches a long leash. "Lets take a walk," she says. "I want to show off my little pussy-licker." You're wearing denim cut- offs, and a fishnet crop top with nothing underneath, to try to stay cool. "Lose the shorts, honey," she demands. You do it, stripping down to the black t-back thong underneath. She looks you over, stopping at your bare feet. "Put on some shoes. Lets see what you've got." She follows you to your tiny closet and rummages through the jumble of shoes piled there. "Perfect! These should work. Get them on and let's go, before it gets dark." She picks the black heels, stilettos, six inches high, a gift from Erin the night you danced for her dinner guests. Carla loves the look. So much, that she has you kneel and eat her, right there in your crowded bedroom. She's sloppy wet tonight, especially excited by the way you've come to so easily give in to her most perverted whims. When she finally cums, she leaves your face dripping with her juices, then leads you outside, pulling you roughly by the leash each time you hesitate. It doesn't take long for the neighbors to gather, lining the gravel paths that run between the rows of trailers, then on to the paved road that runs in a circle through the shabby park. You stumble along behind her in the heels, trying to keep your footing in the deep gravel. You've never been more ashamed, never more humiliated. Men whistle and make crude comments, their eyes running the length of your nearly naked body as you prance by. The night air feels cool on your bare ass cheeks, and your nipples stir and harden, poking through the tiny holes in the mesh top like pink, rubbery buttons. Why? Why is your pussy so wet and your breathing so deep and fast? A young boy, about seventeen, leans against the end of a trailer, his shirt off, narrow waist and washboard abs flirting with you as you pass. A young girl stands next to him, leaning against his shoulder. Her long blonde hair falls past the middle of her back, the minuscule bikini top failing to hide the firm swell of her large round breasts. Her hand is at the front of his jeans, tracing the line of his erection as it grows larger by the second. When Carla sees her smile, she stops and leads you over to them. "Like my pet?" Carla asks, as she reels in the leash, dragging you close beside her. The girl is fresh-faced and beautiful - slim, with long, silky smooth legs and a healthy bronze tan. She returns a wicked smile. Her boyfriend is more vocal. "I'd fuck her," he says. "How much?" "Looks like you're ready," Carla answers. "But she'd never take money. She likes it too much." "Cool. Lets go 'round back," he suggests. Carla drags you to a small patch of dirt behind the trailer. The boy moves a narrow wooden bench from beneath a rotting picnic table to the middle of the meager yard. The girl, silent until now, circles you, licking her lips. "She's so, so, slutty. Will she really do anything we want?" Carla looks at you, expecting you to answer. "Well, bitch, answer the young lady. She's so stupid, I have to remind her to answer sometimes." You swallow your pride, feel your cunt twitch, then answer, "Yes, I'll do anything - anything you want." "Lets see her naked," says the girl, with enough enthusiasm to make you blush with embarrassment. "Can I take her clothes off?" "Like she said, anything you want," says Carla. But the boy is impatient. You can see he's more than ready to fuck you. "Oh, alright Raylene, but make it fast. I'm about to cum in my jeans!" She takes her time anyway, pulling the top over your head so slowly, stripping the tiny thong over your hips, down your legs and over your heels. She stands back and takes a long look at you, naked, in your high heels, in their brown-dirt backyard. She disappears behind you. You feel her hand on your ass. "Can I do this?" she asks, grinning. She pinches your butt cheek - hard - and you cry out in surprise. Carla steps closer to intervene. "Thank the young lady, Babs. Mind your manners." The girl bursts out laughing. "Babs? Her name is Babs??? Well Babs, what d'ya' say?" She's snickering, waiting for your answer. You hate her, but your pussy is soaked. "Thank you, Raylene," you mutter. She slaps your ass, then again harder, then again and again, until it's on fire and red with finger-shaped welts. Again, her sarcastic little voice demands your response. "Thank you again, Raylene," you manage, between clenched teeth. She reaches out and takes your nipple between her thumb and finger, then pinches and twists it cruelly. And she's grinning - still grinning - waiting for you to thank her again for torturing you, for humiliating you. And again, you do. You thank her, and your pussy flows for reasons you can't understand. "C'mon Raylene! Quit playin' with her and get her over here!" "Oh, alright Jimmy! Jeez, I can't never have no fun..." They take you to the wooden picnic bench, put you on your back, and Carla winds the leash around it, lashing your neck tightly against the rough wooden planks. The boy has his pants off in no time and you feel his long, thin cock slide into you quickly, easily - you're so wet. "Damn, she's wetter than fresh-caught trout! Wet and slimy - just the way I like 'em!" he hollers, as he plunges into your sopping cunt again and again. The girl straddles your face, facing him, and you see her pussy move lower, closer, until the faint, sweet smell of her reaches you, then settles on your parted lips. You feel her weight press down onto your mouth, downy golden pubic hair tickling your chin. You don't have to be asked, or told. You taste her, parting her pussylips slightly with the tip of your tongue. And she's sweet - so sweet - her wetness spreading from deep inside over your invading tongue. You penetrate farther, and then lick, slow and deliberate, along the length of her swelling slit, until you hear her moan. "Oh God, Jimmy, she's doin' it! She's eating me - oh Christ she's good! Soo good, Jimmy!" They lean toward each other and kiss, sucking at each other while using you like some kind of amusement park ride, him plunging into your soaking hole, her grinding against your mouth while your tongue makes her gasp and shudder. You can only imagine what you must look like, naked, tied to the bench, a willing pleasure-toy for two teenage kids. Is this what Erin wants you to be? How could she? But you don't care anymore. Anything for Erin. Anything. The girl cums first, grinding faster and faster, the insides of her silky thighs clamped so tightly against you that for a while you think you might suffocate. Her cunt gushes into your open mouth, your tongue running wildly along the rigid flesh of her sensitive young clit. But her boyfriend keeps pounding, pounding into your gaping, wet slit. You fear he may fuck you for hours. "C'mon Jimmy. Hurry up. Mom will be home from work soon. Give it to her! A big load - put a big load of cum in her, Jimmy - I know you can - you can do it easy without a rubber - easy!" You panic when the words sink in. It's been over a month since your last birth control pill. Erin doesn't give you enough money for such "luxuries", as she puts it. Why would she want you to take such a terrible risk? Why would she want to have you filled, unprotected, with the potent semen of a teenage boy? Could you go this far for her? Could you give her total and final control of your life? You know the answer. You no longer have the will to choose. "It's no use, Raylene. She's just too big and sloppy inside - not like your tight little pussy. Damn it! I give up! Help me out - jerk me off, baby. I gotta cum, or my balls are gonna explode!" He pulls out of you, his young cock still rock hard and glistening with your juices. Carla comes to the rescue with an idea of her own. "Turn her over, honey," she says to the boy, with a shit-eating grin. "Ever ass-fucked an older woman?" Jimmy brightens with the idea of finding a hole tight enough to get him off. "No ma'am. Never have - but there's a first time for everything!" Carla loosens the leash holding you down against the bench and orders you to turn over. "Pull your knees up - put your ass in the air where he can get at it, Babs. This boy needs some relief - now!" You do what she says. You feel the tip of his cock push into you, then slide up into your bowels. You clench instinctively - once, twice, then the third time he cums, grunting and screaming as Raylene palms his balls and he pours his spunk deep inside you. He cums for a full minute. You cringe in disbelief as you feel him continue to spray your insides with stream after stream of scalding cum. When they're finished with you, you scamper about the dirt lot, find your clothes, and dress yourself while Carla chats with the happy couple. They wave as Carla leads you away with a quick jerk of your leash. "Anytime," she calls back at them. "Babs just can't get enough." It's dark when she brings you home. You're exhausted and filthy, and an unending trickle of cum runs from your asshole down your bare legs, a grim reminder of how close you came to taking the young boy's sperm in your cunt. You wait anxiously for it to drain from you on the long walk back. It begins to spit rain just as you reach your trailer door. It feels good on your skin, washing away the dirt and semen that covers you from head to foot. Carla sees how much you enjoy the refreshing shower, and stops you before you pull the broken door open and retreat inside. "You like the rain, honey?" "I-I guess so," you stammer, still dazed and shaking. "Well then, enjoy it, bitch. All night." She ties the leash through a rusted hole in the door and heads for her trailer. "Oh, I forgot to tell you. Erin will be here tomorrow morning to pick you up. She thought a night in the rain might be just the thing to clean you up. If you ask me, there ain't enough rain in all creation to do that." You sit on your step and cry. The rain comes harder, drenching you, almost tearing what's left of your clothes from your body. The boy's cum still continues to leak from you, forming a small puddle between your legs where you sit, then mixes with the rain and vanishes into the ground. You try to think of Erin, and of the weekend you'll get to spend with her soon. You doze off when the rain slows, until a hand shakes you awake. You look up into the rain and blackness to see a wet, hulking figure standing over you. "Jerome need a woman tonight. You be good to Jerome, right? You make Jerome feel good. Ms. Erin say so. Ms. Erin say you take care of Jerome any time Jerome's dick need a pretty white woman..." You can smell the liquor on his breath as he runs his large hands over your shoulders, then down to your breasts, easily ripping the flimsy top from your weary body. The cum-soaked thong tears away like tissue paper in his strong hands. You're on the ground before you can answer him, pressed into the mud by the great mass of his body. You spread your legs for him and let him enter you. He's so large, so thick, not like the boy. Not like the boy at all. Your belly swells when he fills you - stroke, stroke, slow at first, then faster. He's grunting, making loud, animal noises as he fucks you into the soft mud. You look over to see faces, everywhere, peering out of windows through the rain, watching the whore rut on the swampy ground with her black stud, listening in the night as he fucks her senseless. The cheap whore in the rusty trailer. But they all watch and listen, just the same. You stare into the night and cry, letting him fuck you, giving him what he wants, what Erin wants. You think of what you were, so long ago you can barely remember, and what you've become. For Erin, always for Erin. And your tears, like the rain, fall in torrents, mixing together in the mud around you as a mountain of hard, black flesh closes in over you like the night, a night that never ends.