Trailer Park Trixie Pt. 01

Trixie smiled broadly and whirled to find her purse. She walked to the door and then smiled at me, "See ya tonight, kiddo." She said before opening the door and stepping out. I leaned hard against the counter and ran my hand down over my face in disbelief.

***

I tried to keep myself busy that day. I washed Chrissy and changed her oil. Then I went to the mall in Tampa, bought some parts to try to fix my clock radio at Radio Shack, and grabbed some lunch at Sbarro. Through it all, my mind was a kaleidoscope of mental images of Trixie, in various indecent positions. Thoughts of her red-painted lips around my cock, and her long, painted nails leaving red marks on my ass.

***

When Trixie stepped through the door, I had my clock radio open all over the dinette table. I had my soldering iron out and my small tool kit. I was going to school to be an electronics technician, so I made sure I had the tools I needed and knew how to use them.

I did my best not to let my face show how excited I was when I saw her. "Hey Trix. Did you have a good day?"

She had her mail in her hand and nodded as she went through it. "Yep, not too bad. Darcy's gonna be out for a couple of weeks so I'm gonna pick up some more hours." Then she tossed the mail up on the counter, turned, and headed to her bedroom.

This was her daily routine during her work week. Work, jazzercise, then a shower and supper. I wondered what VHS tape she'd pop in tonight. I hated Richard Simmons, and luckily so did she. She usually turned on the local top-forty station and listened to that over his video. But she also had Jane Fonda, Kathy Smith, and Denise Austin tapes that I was happy to watch while she exercised.

My jaw hit the floor when she walked out for her day's exercise. She wore a white top and shorts set, with her sneakers and a white sweatband. What stunned me was that the front panel of the shorts and top was entirely sheer with a little wave pattern stitched into it.

I could see her brown pubic hair above her pink pussy and her tits bounced as she walked up to me. The look on her face said everything. It was the biggest, boldest smile I'd ever seen. She ran her nails down the front of my shirt. "Would you like to exercise with me today?" she asked.

I picked my jaw up and smiled. "Yeah, I would."

She gestured to the television. "What tape should I put in? Jane or Denise?"

I looked at her from head to toe, openly admiring every inch of her. "Doesn't matter."

She put her hands on her hips and grinned. "And why doesn't it matter?"

I didn't grow up as a shy kid. Shy kids make themselves targets of bullies and as an orphan foster kid, I knew that there was no one I could rely on except myself. Bullies avoided me. I was bold enough and big enough to make any bully wish they had never seen me out in that schoolyard. Bold had always served me well.

I walked up to her and kissed her enthusiastically. I slid my hands down under her ass and lifted her. Her legs instinctively snaked around my hips. I broke the kiss as I walked her toward her bedroom. "Because we won't be in this room."

She smiled and shook her head. "No, we will not."

I carried her into the bedroom and was surprised at how untidy it was compared to the rest of the house. Clothes lay everywhere. The closet was too small for her wardrobe, so she'd added hooks and rods all over the room and had clothes on hangers, dangling from them. Happily, the queen-sized bed was clear. I deposited her on it, and she smiled brightly. "A young man. God, it's been so long since I've had a young man." Our eyes met. "When I was young it was the older men who wanted me. Older men with money."

Her eyes grew wide as I stripped off my clothes. "A strong young body. Oh yes."

I leered lustily. "Well, I'm gonna give you all you can handle," I said. To see the shudder move through her body made my ego grow three sizes that day. I reached up and stripped off her sneakers but left her adorable crew socks with a lace ruffle on them.

She scooted backward into the middle of the bed, and I crawled up after her, grinning like a damned fool. She kicked off her shorts and spread her legs for me. I licked my lips when I first saw her beautiful pussy. Her pussy lips were large and draped to either side, leaving her slit visible. It was pink and glistened in the light.

Trixie scratched her brown pubic hair lightly and giggled. "News flash. The carpet does not match the drapes."

I laughed, lowered my face between her legs, and set my mouth on her labia. I could feel the warmth of her there and she smelled of sweat and musk. I buried my nose in her bush and inhaled deeply.

She sat up and grabbed me under my arms and pulled me up to her face. "I've been waiting all day. I want that cock in me, right now. We have plenty of time for fooling around later."

I crawled up over her and flexed my hips down between her legs. I felt my cock slide through her pussy lips, and I stayed there for a while, just spreading our wetness between her legs. She moaned and closed her eyes as my glans ground down on her clit. When I pushed the head of my cock into her opening, our eyes met, and we moaned together.

"Yes, baby. Slide that fucking hard cock into my pussy. I've wanted you for a... while."

Hearing her say that drove me right over the edge, as my feelings had been quite mutual. I slid slowly into her and her back arched as I did so, with a big exhale of air.

She was tight and wet. I could feel her pelvic muscles squeezing me. I slid in and out slowly a few times and was surprised to get a stern look from her.

"Stop messing around, Matt. We're not star-crossed lovers. Fuck me, for Christ's sake!" I was surprised and taken aback a bit and it took me a few seconds to gather my wits.

I leaned back and pulled her hips into me hard. I slammed into her balls deep. "Yeah!" She groaned. I picked up my rhythm and began fucking her hard. I watched her big, full tits bounce erratically as I slammed into her over and over.

Our eyes met and she reached down and began rubbing her clit roughly. I leaned over her and grabbed one of her tits and squeezed firmly. I dug my toes into the sheets to get better traction and renewed my assault on her pussy.

"Oh yeah!" She wailed. "Oh, this is what I needed. If you keep at it, I'm gonna cum, Matty. I always knew you'd be a good fuck."

I grabbed two handfuls of the bed sheets above her shoulders and pounded her forcefully. I could feel her shoulders push into my wrists with every impact. She hooked her hands over my forearms and wailed.

Finally, her legs locked around me and her pussy clamped down on my cock as her whole body went rigid. Her back arched and her head lolled back, and she came, gasping. It was poor timing for me because she clamped down just as I was starting to cum. I felt myself ejaculate into her, but the orgasm was ruined. I wasn't worried; I had a feeling there would be plenty of cumming to follow.

She lay there gasping and grabbed her tits roughly and pinched her nipples. "Oh, that was a damn good start Matt. I knew it would be good." She grinned lewdly. "Mrs. Grainger said you cleaned her pipes on several occasions."

I knelt over her with a shocked expression. She gave me a haughty look. "That's right, I know about several of your conquests in Live Oaks." She looked and me and gave me an animated look of resignation. "Now I guess, I'm one of them," she sighed before smiling broadly. "You can add the old whore, Trixie, to your list."

I rolled off her. "You're not a whore."

She rolled onto her side and then got on her hands and knees. She smiled and then dangled her right tit over my lips. "Oh, but I am. I have a body count that would shock you. I was a stripper for nearly twenty years. I was popular and I was good at it. Vegas, Memphis, Houston, LA, and of course, here in Tampa."

I looked at her seriously, "That doesn't make you a..."

She interrupted me. "The whole time, I had sugar daddies and johns in every city. I was a high-priced call girl and an escort. I fucked for money, and I fucked for fun. In street alleys, shitty motels, and four-star penthouse suites. I've been arrested for prostitution four times and served a little time for it. I used my body to make money." She looked me in the eye again. "Does that make me a whore, in your opinion, young man?"

I wasn't surprised. We do what we must to survive. I didn't know what sort of conditions Trixie had when she was young, but I had two foster sisters who aged out of foster care before me. They were both already working at the strip clubs near the stadium in Tampa. It's just how life is when you start with nothing and have no one to give you a leg up.

I gave her a serious look. "It makes you a survivor." I grabbed her hand and pushed it down to my cock. She grabbed it immediately and began stroking it back to life. "Now, do you want to go again? Or does the old whore need a break?"

The look she gave me was a mixture of gratitude and irritation. She threw her leg over my hips and pushed her slippery cunt against my rapidly hardening cock. She gritted her teeth and ground down on me to the point of pain. Then she relaxed and I slid inside her. She closed her eyes and sighed as I filled her. She opened them and smiled. "I think you and I are going to have a good time together for a while." She sat up and then slapped her ass back down on my thighs.

I reached under her sheer top and grabbed her tits. I squeezed them firmly and rolled my hips up into her and she moaned with pleasure. "I think so too," I said as I enjoyed the feeling of my fingers sinking into her soft flesh. My next orgasm more than made up for the first.

***

My digital watch beeped at 4:30 am. Trixie rolled over and groaned when her sleep was interrupted. I reached over and grabbed a handful of her ass and then caressed it gently. She gave me a contented sigh, rolled over, and went back to sleep.

It was going to be a long day. I had shifts at both of my jobs. I worked a 5:30 am to 12:30 pm shift at the local Albertsons grocery, and then a 1:30 pm to 6 pm at Smitty's TV repair. If I'd worked for anyone else, the TV repair job would have been ideal. But frankly, Smitty was a real asshole. The store was in a small strip mall, and it was a foul place. He never cleaned it, never had me clean it, and he smoked the foulest cigars imaginable. The fat old miser paid me minimum wage, not a penny more. At that time, it was three dollars and thirty-five cents an hour. On the other hand, he was a remarkably good teacher, and I learned a lot. He liked and respected the fact that I wanted to repair good useful equipment instead of buying new "Jap shit" as he called it.

The intrusion of Japanese electronics into the market rankled him something fierce. Buy American, was his motto. To call him a very racist man against Asians would have been accurate. But as he'd served in the Pacific fleet in World War Two, you almost had to give him a pass on it.

I got home and found Trixie stretching with Jack LaLanne on the TV. She wore black short-shorts and a white, bare midriff, sleeveless shirt. She got one whiff of the cigar stink on me and ordered me to strip right there in the living room. She had me stuff my clothes in a trash bag and seal it tight. She set the bag on the back stairs.

"Now, get your ass in the shower, this instant," she grumbled as she sprayed Lysol up in the air. I laughed and did as I was told.

***

I got out of the shower and walked to my room with my towel around my waist. I caught Trixie's eyes following me. "Go hang up that towel and then come here," she said with a sly smile. I could already see being in a relationship with Trixie was going to be an adventure.

I walked out of the bathroom completely nude. Her eyes lit up when she saw me. "That's much better." Then she paused and had a thoughtful look for about ten seconds. Then the biggest grin spread over her face. I started getting hard immediately.

She sauntered up to me and touched my chest softly. "Okay Matt, here's our rental agreement. Are you ready for it?"

I was uncertain for a few moments, but I nodded anyway. She had the look of a cat ready to pounce on a mouse.

"In return for a free room, you are going to be my little whore." My jaw dropped. "You are going to be naked every moment you are in this house unless you are getting ready to leave for work or errands. I want to enjoy that lovely young body every moment."

She reached out and grasped my cock and began stroking it. "You are going to be my little fuck-toy. You are going to do what I tell you, whenever and wherever, I tell you." She looked down at my cock and smiled. "Which will be often, I think."

I was flummoxed and I'm sure it showed on my face. "How does that sound to you, Matt?" she said with a haughty expression. It took me about three seconds to decide on this, but it didn't dawn on me until much later, that decisions like this probably shouldn't be made when someone is stroking your cock. I swallowed and nodded.

"Okay. If the house is warm enough to be naked, I will." It really wasn't going to be an issue. To keep her cooling bill as low as possible, she kept the trailer at seventy-eight degrees. With the humidity, that meant that you're not sweating as long as you're not moving.

She grinned. "And?" She gave a pull on my now fully erect cock, and I gasped.

"And... I will be your... fuck... toy." I stammered as she stroked me intensely.

Trixie cheered. "Wonderful!" She released my cock and pushed me backward into her overstuffed chair. I sat down heavily, and she knelt between my knees, staring at my cock. "I've been waiting to get my lips around this."

Trixie took my cock into her warm, wet mouth, and it was just heavenly. Her tongue bathed the bottom of my cock as she sucked me deeply into her throat. Her eyes shone as she looked up at me when her nose sank into my pubic hair. She hummed an 'Mmm' around my cock and I moaned deeply. I set my hands down on her head and she stopped immediately and straightened.

She wagged her finger at me. "Unless we are in bed for the night, never... touch my hair."

I nodded like my head was on a loose hinge. "No problem! You got it!" I said, desperate for her to resume her efforts. She smiled and slowly lowered her head back down to my cock.

I lost track of time at that point. The only thing that mattered in my world was the pleasure she was giving me. "Oh, Trixie. It feels so fucking good."

I was very glad that I was sitting because I could not have remained standing for very long. She lifted her head and stroked my cock with her hand, slick with her spit and my precum. She laid it against her cheek and then rolled my cockhead over her full lips, before licking my glans. I would have loved for it to go on forever, but my orgasm was fast approaching. I groaned. "Oh Trixie... I'm..."

She hummed an 'mhmm' as she swallowed my cock again, pushing my cockhead into the back of her throat, and sucked like there was no tomorrow. And then she stopped.

I looked down at her and she knelt there smiling at me. Her fingers caressed my cock which was twitching like mad. "You promise? she asked seductively.

I blanked. "Wh-what?"

She leaned down and licked the bottom of my cock. "Do you promise that you'll be my sweet naked, sex slave as long as you live here?"

I'd have admitted to the murder of Jimmy Hoffa at that moment. I nodded wildly and replied. "Yes, I promise." Trixie smiled and stroked my cock.

"That's my good little whore," Trixie whispered as she began to suck again. After a couple of minutes, I dug my hands into the fabric of the chair and my whole body locked up. I moaned loudly and pumped my load over the back of her lovely tongue. Her hand stroked me to get every drop back there and my pelvis flexed nearly on its own as my orgasm rolled through me.

Finally, I collapsed back into the chair, nearly breathless. Trixie sat back on her heels and gave me a very self-satisfied smile. "Was that good?" she asked as if there was a doubt.

"It was fucking amazing," I said with a big exhale.

She got up, straddled my lap, and looked me in the eye. "Well, I'm gonna take real good care of my little boy-toy," she said as if she was talking to a child.

I lowered my eyebrows and was about to say something when there was a knock at the trailer door. Trixie grinned. She ran her thumb over the corner of her mouth, wiping away a little cum. "I'll get it. Go put something on."

***

I was sliding on some shorts and a tank top when I heard the door open and then heard Trixie's voice. "Aw fuck. What are you doing here, Mitchell?"

Then there was a man's voice. "Trixie!? Is that you? Man, how long's it been?"

Trixie's voice was harsh. "Not fucking long enough. What do you want?"

I was exiting my room when I heard his voice go low. "Damn, you're still looking good." Then he cleared his throat. "I need to talk to Matthew Roberts."

Trixie held up her hand defensively, but he stopped her before she could deny anything. "Don't bother to deny it, that's his green bike chained up over there and that's his Cutlass across the street."

I opened the door wider and stepped into view. I guess I was expecting some TV detective, with a receding hairline and a beer gut, with a suit that looked like he'd slept in it. Not this guy. This guy looked like a soldier in an off-the-rack brown suit. Tall and trim with a flat top haircut, with just a little grey creeping into his brown hair. Instead of worn-out loafers, he was wearing military-style boots polished to a high shine. This guy radiated the fact that he was not the sorta fella that you fucked with. At least not more than once.

"I'm Matt Roberts. Who are you?"

He whipped out a wallet and flashed his credentials, with a gold star pinned to it. "I'm Detective Mitchell, Chasco County Sheriff's Office, narcotics division." He looked at me up and down. For any sort of weapon, I was guessing. Not much room for one in my current get-up. He pointed his thumb over his shoulder to Penny and Jim's place. "I need to speak with you about your former roommates."

I nodded and Trixie stepped aside so I could step out of the trailer. The detective nodded to Trixie and stepped back to the rear of his shit-brown Dodge Diplomat. He flipped open a small notebook and looked at me intently. "Matthew Roberts. Age twenty. Two speeding tickets, no criminal record, juvenile or otherwise." He paused for effect. "Are you working or going to school?"

I nodded. "Both."

He cocked his head at me. "Matt, that makes you sort of a rare bird in this neighborhood, do you know that?"

I thought a moment and decided he was probably right. Most of the guys my age in the neighborhood had had dealings with law enforcement in one way or another. I looked him in the eye. "I don't want to spend my life in a fucking trailer park or jail."

He nodded emphatically. "I believe you, Matt. I really do. That's how I know you're gonna be straight with me on what was going on over there with the Hortons." He began questioning me about my life with Penny and Jim. It didn't take long to turn his smile into a frown. After several minutes of getting irritated at one another, I summed it up for him.

"Listen man. I'm being totally straight. Whatever they were doing, they never brought it home. They came home after work, whatever it was, showered, and lived like normal folks. Then they went to work the next day like everyone else. I went to school, to work, came home, and took care of the place. When they went on trips, I stayed here."

He took out his pen and pad. "Trips? Where to?"