Trailer Trash
Damn, if that wasn’t the hottest summer I ever lived through. My cold-hearted and frigid wife had left me with nothing but my student loan and my computer. I’m sure I would have had alimony payments if she hadn’t run off with her divorce lawyer so soon. The bitch even took the dog. My only consolation was that they had to go to Rome to get the official annulment after the bishop here refused. Oh, well, I’ve never understood the Catholic sentiment of official sanctification.
Without much of anything left I quickly signed up for summer school duty. As an English teacher, my classes would be comprised of those unlucky, uncaring, or slow enough not to pass during the regular school year. The only housing I could afford was at a trailer park three-quarters of a mile from the last stop on the commuter train line. With a crappy trailer home without air-conditioning and a class of unwilling neer-do-wells, I was in for a long, hot summer.
I trudged along to the train stop the first day of school with the assorted collection of domestic help headed into the wealthy houses for the day and the few motley students who attended where I taught. The trailer park was in the furthest unmentioned corner of an otherwise wealthy school district. What caught my eye that morning was a mother-daughter team walking with the rest of us. The mother’s waitress outfit was just tight enough to give me a vision of a nice medium-sized rack, and when she bent over to pick up a hair-tie to pull her dark hair back into a really cute shaggy pony-tail her bubble butt gave me a shudder in my much self-abused crotch. It wasn’t hard to see where her life had traveled: young and wild, young and pregnant, working hard now to make ends meet.
The daughter seemed headed the same way, but on second thought, perhaps not. There was something a little calm and calculated about her. She had a nice mane of strawberry-blond hair she spent some time on that morning, a nose ring of defiance and what looked to be the early stage of the nice rack and ass of her mother’s ilk. She wore flip-flops with the toes painted an ironic “Trailer-Trash” green, some short shorts which were just short of being too slutty for school but which I knew were going to give her male classmates something to dream about, and one of those clingy tops with spaghetti straps.
The mom gave me an interesting look as she parted ways with her daughter at the station. She headed to what I was certain was her place of employment: a fantastic dinner on the highway not far from the station which did a great business: great food, outstanding banana-cream pie. It was popular with everyone from SUV-driving yuppies to the bikers who met there on the weekends.
We boarded the train and the girl made an interesting choice in sitting across from me in a double-seat in the corner. I wasn’t sure whether I was invading her usual space or whether she was just being bold. She flopped down and closed her eyes in a bored adolescent way. She raised one foot up and placed it on the seat next to me. The pretty foot and painted toes made me have to adjust my growing member as I gave the rest of her a closer look. What gave me more discomfort was what her breasts were doing in the chilly a/c of the train car. I could now tell that she had amazingly big areolae and nipples the size of #2 erasers. Goddamn, if those aren’t big turn-ons for me. Both those lovely dark areolae just barely discernable through her tight top and huge nipples were hardening. If only those shapely legs would adjust a little more I would be able to see up those short shorts. Oh, well, I just smiled, enjoyed the glances and feigned looking out the window when she looked up during the trip.
Of course, I found out later she was assigned to my class. She smiled slyly as she took a seat in the middle of the class – not too close or too far. I learned she was very smart and that due to some personality conflict with what I knew to be an old prick of a faculty member she had failed last year. She was eighteen and should have graduated at the end of the year. It was going to be a challenge to bring her out, if I could. Due to her financial status and grades last year, Laura was assigned a mandatory tutor funded by the state. Oh, yes, I said that it would be no problem for me to take on that duty.
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