Elusive Butterfly

(This story could have gone into several different categories, like transgender & crossdressers, or group sex or even mature. I decided on romance; after all, it is a love story.)

**

I don't like Douglas Glass. I don't hate him, I just don't like him.

He's weird; he likes Hall & Oates and thinks Van Halen is nothing but noise. He likes The Thompson Twins. Nobody likes The Thompson Twins. He don't even like Led Zeppelin. I mean, who don't like Led Zeppelin, the greatest rock band ever?

He don't like sports; football, basketball, wrestling, none of it. He don't even like comic books. What kind of nerd don't like Superman and Batman?

But we live in the same trailer park. So, we have to kind of hang out together. We rode the same bus to school, stood at the same bus stop every morning, got off at the same bus stop every afternoon. We're the only nineteen year old guys in the whole park. So, unless we want to hang out with a bunch of kids, we're kind of stuck together.

Well, there's Melanie Adams, but she's married to Frank Adams. She's nineteen and he's this creepy ass thirty five year old guy. I don't blame him, though. Melanie's boobs come in the door about two minutes before she does, and her butt leaves the room about a minute after she's gone. She's also got long, dark, curly hair and even with all her zits, she's kind of pretty.

Melanie kind of turns her nose up at Douglas and me whenever she drives by, like she's some kind of hot shit. I mean, she lives in a camping trailer all the way at the end of the park and she acts like she's got it going on.

"At least we graduated from high school, Melanie," I said one time.

She didn't smirk then, just gave us the finger. Ooh, golly gosh, that really hurt.

See, she had to drop out of school when she got married; our high school don't let anyone get married and still go to school.

Anyway, Douglas and me, we're sitting on the steps in front of his trailer and it sucks. It just really sucks. We're both nineteen, finally graduated from high school, and there still ain't shit to do.

I got held back in the seventh grade, just fucking around and didn't do my homework, and just never managed to catch up. So, I was nineteen when I got that stupid plaque; it hangs on the living room wall of my mom's trailer.

My sister Cindy's is the only other plaque up there; she graduated nine years before me. Fat lot of good it did her. She's living in Atlanta, Georgia, doing nothing but fucking niggers and getting knocked up. She says why should she work when Uncle Sam's willing pay her to have a bunch of kids? Right now, she's got four half-black kids and is about to spit out another one.

My sister Linda didn't graduate. She's living down in Miami, stripping and turning tricks for her biker boyfriend Gary. Same thing for Donna, my other sister. She's living down in New Orleans, at least when she's not in prison for drugs.

Douglas got held back a year because when he was fourteen, he got real sick and missed a whole year and half of his life, just going from hospital to hospital. He told me once what he had caught but the word's like a mile long and I don't remember it.

But it stunted his growth; I'm six one and he's only five four and kind of scrawny. Me? I'm buff. When I was twelve, this seventh or eighth grader cornered me on the playground and for no reason, just beat the shit out of me. The next day, I started doing pushups and sit ups.

When I was about fourteen, one of Mom's boyfriends gave me his old barbell set and I really started working out then. Another one of my mom's boyfriends started giving me his old Muscle & Fitness magazines and I studied the ink off them pages. After that? No kids ever tried beating me up.

Douglas lives with his sister. Marianne Glass is thirty two or thirty three years old; Douglas was kind of a 'whoops!' baby. Then, after he finally got better from whatever it was that he had, his dad ran off with their next-door neighbor and his mom committed suicide. So that's when Douglas moved here, to live with Marianne. I told him, at least he knows who his dad is; I've never even met mine.

"Oh, believe me," he said. "It's not as glamorous as it sounds."

"Don't sound all that glamorous; just you know who your daddy is," I said.

"I was being facetious," he said.

Muscle & Fitness and Flex and Hustler magazines don't use words like facetious. So, he had to explain that facetious means he was just being a smart ass. See why I don't like him? If you mean smart ass then just say smart ass.

Anyway, we're sitting on the steps of his trailer, just watching Highway 80. We're both bitching about no car, no job, no money. Our trailer park is too far away from anything to just walk; there is a Popeye's Fried Chicken around the corner, but they ain't hiring. I've got three applications in with them but every time I go in there, the manager tells me he's still ain't hiring.

We're just sitting, watching Highway 80, playing this really stupid game we'd made up. I get a point for every Camaro goes by and Douglas gets a point for every Cadillac Eldorado. I lose a point if a Trans Am goes by and he loses a point for every love van. Yeah, it's a stupid game because by the time we see an Eldorado or Camaro, we've forgotten how many points we got.

We can hear Mrs. Carsenni yelling at Mr. Carsenni. We can't hear what she's yelling but that's nothing new; she's always screaming at him; I don't think she knows how to talk.

"Disgusting filthy pervert!" she screams, flinging the door of their trailer open.

We can hear Mr. Carsenni whining some stuff, but can't hear what he's saying. Mrs. Carsenni shoves him back, away from the open door.

With that, she throws a bunch of magazines out of the trailer. They land on the clam shell driveway. Then she slams the door shut and keeps on screaming.

Douglas and I run and grab up the magazines and run back to his trailer. We don't even look see what kind of magazines we got; just grab them up and run.

Inside the trailer, we run to Douglas's bedroom and slam the door of his room closed. And that's when we look at our haul.

These are the good kind of magazines; real thick. They got covers of that real heavy kind of paper; you can tell they cost some serious bucks.

"Ass Fucking Teens?" Douglas gasped.

"Cum Bath?" I asked, looking at the picture of a cute girl, with three big old dicks squirting sperm all over her face and boobs.

"Lezzie Roommates, um, Big Tits Tight Asses," Douglas says.

"Barely Legal Gang Bang Sluts," I announced, looking at this blonde girl and five smiling guys on the cover.

She's naked, sitting with her legs spread wide, one hand squeezing her left boob and the other hand rubbing her pussy. He five guys all have their dicks in their hands, holding them up for the camera.

"Shaved Horny Sluts," I said, looking at the last magazine.

All you can see on this cover is this woman's pussy, hair covered by white shaving cream and this old time looking straight razor, scraping some of the shaving cream off of her. They had the saving cream in a perfect triangle, covering her pussy hair and nothing else. Well, except for that chunk of cream and hair that had been scraped off. Douglas and I just look at each other for a minute.

"Geez; Mr. Carsenni really is a pervert," Douglas giggled.

See why I don't like him? Who giggles? We got some hard core stuff here and he's giggling.

Before we can look at any of it, we hear Marianne come in. We quickly shove the magazines underneath Douglas's bed and leave his bedroom.

"Hey, there's my little man," Marianne smiled and gave Douglas a hug and kiss.

Marianne and Douglas are both the same height, five feet, four inches. In her work shoes, she's a little taller than him and teases him by pretending she has to bend way over to kiss him.

"Hey, Randy," she says, giving my muscled bicep a playful pinch.

"Good day at work?" Douglas asked,

"Work is a four letter word," Marianne joked.

"You ask that guy at the Sound Shop about my application?" Douglas asked.

"Uh huh, maybe when school starts up again," Marianne said. "Joey's coming over later on."

Joey's Marianne's boyfriend. He thinks he's some bad ass; he's a lawyer and drives around in some kind of Audi. But, if he's such a great lawyer, making all kind of money, why's he always broke? I mean, he's never got money for nothing.

"I got the sausage casserole in the oven," Douglas told her.

"There's enough?" Marianne asked, already unbuttoning her blouse, even though I'm right there, right in the room with them.

"Should be," Douglas said. "Good Lord! Used up all the sausage."

I left their trailer at that point. There might be enough for Douglas and Marianne and asshole Joey, but I'm not invited. That's okay with me; all a sausage casserole is, is this Italian sausage, browned with bell pepper and onion, then mixed up with some spaghetti noodles and spaghetti sauce, the kind of sauce out of a jar, then covered with mozzarella cheese and baked until disgusting. The happiest day in my life was when my mom got a microwave oven.

When I got to my mom's trailer, Mr. Otis is there. It's Tuesday, that's usually when Mr. Otis takes my mom to Albertson's for groceries. Mr. Steve and Mr. Burrells can't take my mom shopping; their wives might find out. Mr. Otis ain't married so he don't care who sees him with my mom.

My mom don't really like Mr. Otis; he's the kind that expects a whole lot for just a little. And it takes forever to pay him back. He loans you a dollar, even after you pay him that dollar back, he's constantly telling you how he loaned you that dollar when you needed that dollar. So, even though you already paid him back, you still owe him because of that dollar.

Best thing I can say about Mr. Otis is he's got this really cool hair. He's got this big mullet, mousses it up to where it sticks up on top all the way back to his long ass rat tail in the back.

My hair's this almost white blond, like my mom's hair. And now that I'm not in school, I'm letting it grow out. It's starting to almost cover my ears, and in the back, can almost touch the collar of my Pat Benatar tee shirt. I use a little bit of mousse and kind of spike it up on top.

I don't really like Pat Benatar. She's too screechy. But I would fuck the shit out of her.

Douglas has got me beat with the hair. He's also blond; Marianne's got brown hair that's real curly so they don't really look like brother and sister. But that disease that Douglas had made his hair fall out. All over.

I remember last year, we're having to dress out and Donald Dunn looks over and real loud asks Douglas why he ain't got hair on his balls.

"And what the fuck you looking at his balls for, Dunn?" I demanded, stepping in front of Douglas. "Huh? Like looking at big balls? Want look at mine?"

But that's when Douglas told us his disease made all his hair fall out. It's just now starting to grow back, he said. And when Mr. Resendez, our principal heard about it, he quit getting on Douglas's case about getting a haircut.

So Douglas's hair hangs down to below his shoulder blades. My mom keeps telling him she's going take some scissors and cut it all off. She says it makes him look like a girl.

Anyway, Mr. Otis was at the trailer; my mom don't like it when I come in while her boyfriends are here, so, I just sat on our steps and waited.

I don't know what took them so long; I was out there probably at least an hour. Okay, I do know what they were doing. I'm not stupid. I know what my mom does for Mr. Otis and Mr. Steve and Mr. Burrells, and the few others that come around every now and then. But what's taking them so long to get done with it?

Just when my butt was about to fall off, Mr. Otis finally stepped outside. Asshole messes up my hair as he walked past.

When I came inside, my mom was standing there wearing nothing but a smile. Like I want to look at that? Boobs hanging there, big old blonde bush?

"Otis got you that juice you been wanting," my mom said, scratching at her boob.

"Oh cool," I said.

"On your own for supper," she said, leaving the kitchen.

I look at her butt as she walks out the kitchen. My mom's a real pretty woman, even if she is forty four or forty five. I got mad at myself for getting a big old boner looking at my own mom's butt.

The next day, Mr. Steve comes over just as we're finishing up our lunch. Nothing fancy, ham and cheese sandwiches and a pile of potato chips.

"Yeah, wife's out at the mall, spending all my money," he smiles, giving my mom a big old squeeze on her butt.

I hurried up and finished my lunch; they were already giggling and grabbing. Then I walked over to Douglas's trailer and knock on the door.

"Hey; he's in his room," Marianne smile as she pushes past me. "Damn it, going be late. See you."

Marianne works at Dillard's at the mall out in Monroe. If she works in the morning, she's usually back by five thirty, six o'clock. When she goes in for one, she don't get back until nine thirty, ten o'clock at night. So Douglas and I, we got all day look at those magazines now.

I could hear the crappy music as I walked down the hall; Douglas had Human League on. Looking in his room, he was laying on his belly, reading some magazine and singing along with the record. He was wearing nothing but a pair of underwear and I couldn't help but notice how white the drawers were. I mean, they looked almost brand new, they're so white.

"Hey!" he smiled, looking over his shoulder.

"Hey," I said, coming into the room.

"Just looking at our yearbook," Douglas smiled, sowing me what he had been reading.

"Really? Got those magazines and you'd rather look at our stupid yearbook?" I asked as I closed the door of his room.

"Was waiting for you," Douglas said, rolling over onto his back.

He rolled over onto his stomach again and dug underneath his bed. Again, I'm looking at his butt as he digs around.

"Oh! Hey, want a soda water?" Douglas asked as he pulls one of the magazines out.

Douglas is addicted to Fanta Orange Soda. He'll drink other orange sodas if Fanta's not available, but he's really addicted to Fanta.

"No thanks," I said, flopping onto his bed next to him.

"Your loss," Douglas said, sipping his bottle of soda. "Oh, need go get a towel."

"Huh?" I asked, trying to see which one of the magazines he's grabbed.

"Oh, don't act like you're not going spank your monkey," Douglas huffed, scrambling off the bed.

"Not in front of each other," I said, horrified at the thought.

Douglas came right back, dragging one of them beach towels. Then, right in front of me, he dropped his drawers on the floor and got back on the bed, hard dick bobbing back and forth. He spread the towel out across our laps and then put the magazine right between us, on my left leg and his right leg. I could feel his naked leg pressing up against my leg.

Ass Fucking Teens starts off with a football player and a cheerleader standing there. The guy's jersey says 'High School' on it and her tight sweater has 'H S' on it. So, I guess that means they're teenagers, right?

"Well?" I said after a few minutes went by. "Turn the page."

"I'm reading what it says," Douglas said.

"You're what?" I asked, looking at him.

"I'm reading it," he said. "There's a story goes with it."

"What? Who cares about the story?" I asked, surprised. "Just turn the stupid page."

"Well, why are they here? Why are they going to have sex?" Douglas asked.

"Because they want to, I mean, they're fucking horny," I said, wanting to punch him.

Finally, Douglas turned the page and the girl is now lying next to the football player, wearing just her skirt and socks and shoes and she's sucking his cock. The football player's still got his helmet and shoulder pads and pants and cleats on. The page next to that shows that the player now has his jersey and shoulder pads off and his cock is squirting all over the cheerleader's face.

Just when I was ready to jerk the magazine out of Douglas's hands, he turned the page. Now the football player is kneeling behind the cheerleader, about to jam his hard dick up her ass. She's still got her skirt on and he's still got his helmet and pants and cleats on. He's squeezing her boobs; they're hanging down and they look huge. The page facing is the same, but it shows them from the side.

"Oh!" Douglas let out a little moan.

Then I noticed that the towel over his lap was kind of jumping a little. He's jerking off and I'm right there, right next to him and he's jerking off. The whole time, Human League is blaring that horrible synthesizer crap from his stereo.

Douglas finally turned the page and we can see the football player's dick and the cheerleader's ass hole clearly; his dick is jammed up her ass. Underneath, her pussy is spread wide, pussy lips hanging down. The facing page is kind of overhead, showing just his cock and her light brown ass hole.

"Oh!" Douglas moaned again. "I, you what you think that feels like?"

"For him? Bet it feels great," I said, reaching under the towel and unzipping my shorts.

I tried to do it quiet like, but these shorts got a tricky zipper; it sticks about halfway down. It really sucks when I got to pee real bad and that zipper sticks. Douglas looked at me and just kind of smiled. Finally, I managed to get the zipper down and pull my aching dick out.

The next few pages showed them fucking, all up her ass, and then he came and the last picture showed her stretched ass hole, big old line of sperm dripping out, running over her pussy lips.

"Oh!" Douglas gave out another little moan, then turned the page to start the next set of pictures.

It's pretty much the same thing. A girl and a guy, she sucks his cock, then he fucks her up the ass. This one does start off with him kneeling behind her, but halfway through, he lays down and she straddles him, looking over her shoulder at him as she squats over his dick.

"Oh!" Douglas again gave out that little moan.

The towel was still jerking a little as he had his left hand underneath the towel. The last picture has the guy's sperm dripping out of the girl's ass and she's got her hand under, catching the sperm.

The towel was jerking a little over my lap as I stroked my dick. My shorts and drawers were kind of bunched up, binding my legs.

"Be more comfortable if you just took them off," Douglas said.

I froze for a moment. Then I gave in and managed to wiggle out of my shorts and drawers and kicked them to the edge of the bed. His fuzzy comforter felt kind of nice against my naked butt cheeks and the towel felt kind of nice, rubbing softly against the head of my dick as I started to stroke my dick again.

The next set of pictures showed a black girl and a white guy. I really don't like that kind of shit. I don't know if it's because of my sister Cindy, but I just don't like black people and white people fucking.

The only thing that was interesting about these pictures was it showed him getting her ass ready. He was fingering her ass hole with his fingers all greasy with Vaseline. Then it showed him lay on the bed behind her and she kicked up her leg so we could see his big white dick sliding up her black ass while she played with her own pussy.

"Randy, you think, you think that, that's got to hurt, huh?" Douglas asked, pointing to the picture of his big old cock jammed up her ass.

"I guess," I agreed.

In the pictures, it did look like her face was kind of screwed up like it hurt. And the guy's dick was pretty big.

We continued to look at the pictures. The next set shows this really small Chinese looking chick and this huge white guy.

"Ugh!" Douglas grunted as we could see the look of pain on the Chinese girl's face as the guy's gigantic dick jams up her greasy ass hole.