Elusive Butterfly

When Marianne decided it was time to go, Joey refused to give us all a ride to our trailer park. So, I jogged to the trailer park, Marianne's keys in my hand. It was a three and half mile run and Highway 80 don't have any sidewalks. I promised Marianne and Douglas I would be careful.

I was sweating pretty good when I finally got to the trailer park. Thank God Marianne's 1977 Cougar had air conditioning. I let that cool air blow over me before I put the car in drive and drove back to the apartments.

The next day, Marianne had the morning shift at Dillard's. That morning, I helped my mom clean our trailer. Once a week, she insists on a thorough cleaning; dusting, vacuuming, mopping. The whole time, she was running around, wearing a tee shirt and these really baggy old terrycloth shorts and every time she bends over, I was looking right at my mom's pussy, her ass.

After lunch, I went down to Douglas's trailer and knocked on the door. I don't know if he's even awake; if my mom hadn't woken me up to clean our trailer, I'd probably still be in bed.

"Hey," Douglas said, letting me in.

Again, he was wearing nothing but a pair of white drawers. We went right to his bedroom and pulled out 'Shaved Horny Sluts.' Douglas had a big old beach towel already on his bed and we both got naked and got on his bed.

'Shaved Horny Sluts' didn't really have a whole lot of action. It was mostly just these girls shaving themselves and showing off their pussies. Two of the girls had their girlfriends with them and they touched each other's smooth pussies. Only one had a boyfriend and she shaved herself, then shaved him. Whole time, he didn't even have a hard-on.

"Well, that was a waste of time," Douglas said as we finished looking at that magazine.

'Lezzie Roommates' wasn't really much better. If any of these girls really were lezzies, they didn't like their roommates a whole bunch. Even the pictures of them eating each other didn't show them eating each other. The pictures showed them about to eat each other. The pictures showed them about to finger each other.

Thankfully, 'Big Tits Tight Asses' showed some real action. It even had a lesbian couple in it. These lezzies showed the blonde with gigantic tits fucking her brunette girlfriend's pussy and ass with this huge strap-on dick.

At the back of these magazines were these ads for more magazines, and even some videocassette tapes. The videocassette tapes are unbelievable; who could afford to pay sixty, seventy bucks for a movie?

But Douglas and I looked at the ads, looked at the pictures. Each ad has about twenty real small pictures of the covers of these magazines.

"Me, My Daughter, and Her Best Friend," Douglas read aloud.

"Ugh! Oh, and this; 'My Mommy's A Gang Bang Slut?' Who wants to see that kind of shit?" I asked.

The cover of that one showed a brunette woman with real big tits and she's hugging this scrawny nerdy looking guy, short sleeve shirt buttoned all the way up to his throat. Behind them are five naked guys, all big and muscled looking.

"Cock Hungry Sissy Slut?" Douglas asked, looking carefully at one. "I wonder..."

I left their trailer just as Marianne pulled up. She gave me a smile and a wave.

When I got home, my mom was getting dressed up for a date. She told me that Mr. Burrells was taking her out.

That kind of surprised me. Mr. Burrells was married and according to him, his Sylvia was one jealous bitch.

So, I made myself a dinner out of the last of the rice and ham. I scrambled two eggs and kind of poured the eggs over the rice and ham, then cooked it in the microwave. When my mom made the comment about eggs having a lot of protein, I almost spit out the mouthful. I remembered someone telling me once that sperm has a whole bunch of protein.

A few days later, Douglas told me that Joey and Marianne were getting married. I hadn't even known that they'd gotten back together.

"They wouldn't have, but she's pregnant and Joey's mom is this real religious nut and she would have cut him out of the will if he had a bastard kid," Douglas said.

"Oh," I shrugged.

"Don't you care?" Douglas said, eyes filling with tears.

"What? Well, yeah, I guess, I mean, shit, they were fighting and shit," I said.

"No, no, you idiot," Douglas cried. "When they get married, I have to move."

That hit me like a sledge hammer. The thought of losing him, losing what we shared made me feel light headed.

A few days after that, as he was packing up a few non-essentials around their trailer, Douglas found Marianne's old Polaroid camera in the back of her bedroom closet. He ran down to the Katz & Bestoff Drug store and bought some film and a flash bar for the goofy thing. Then he made me pose for him. I got my dick good and hard and flexed my muscles.

The flash of the camera blinded me. When I could see again, Douglas made me take a picture of him. Looking at the two pictures, I couldn't help but think, Douglas really was cute. He'd combed his hair over one shoulder, showing how long it was.

Afterward, we went back into his bedroom. He wanted a picture of me on his bed, kind of on my side, holding myself up on one elbow. Again, the damn flash blinded me.

Then, when I could see, he had me take one of him in the same kind of pose.

"So, when's the big day?" I finally managed to ask.

"They're talking end of September," Douglas said, his eyes again filling with tears.

We heard Marianne's car outside; the muffler was rusting and needed to be replaced. We hurried and got dressed and Douglas hid the pictures in the bottom of his closet.

"Hey," Marianne said.

For someone about to get married, she didn't look all that happy. In fact, she looked kind of miserable. But she smiled when I congratulated her.

When I got to our trailer, Mr. Otis's car was outside. So I just sat on the steps to wait.

About twenty minutes later, Mr. Otis opened the door. I got to my feet quickly; I hate when he messes up my hair. Standing, I'm taller than him.

He yelled over his shoulder, "Elizabeth, he's right here."

Mr. Otis stepped aside and waved me inside. Sitting on our couch was my mom and she had this big smile on her face.

"Look! Look!" she screeched, waving her left hand at me.

There was this little bitty ring with a real tiny diamond on her left hand. I looked at it and shook my head in confusion.

"Otis's asked me to marry him!" my mom screamed at me.

"Huh?" I asked, thoroughly confused.

Just last night, my mom had been bitching about Mr. Otis. She'd said she'd had her belly full of his immaturity, his jealousy and his unreasonable demands.

I guess a ten dollar ring is all it takes to make immaturity, jealousy, and unreasonable demands okay. My mom jumped up, plastered her big boobs and crotch up against me and gave me a very sloppy kiss. And even though I'd spunked four times earlier that afternoon, my dick got rock hard as my mom rubbed all over me.

"Now, I uh, I don't expect you call me Dad or nothing like that," Mr. Otis said, slapping me on the back.

Good thing; Mr. Otis is only twenty four or twenty five. I'm not about to call some guy Dad when he's only a few years older than me.

"We uh, we're thinking about maybe an October wedding; the twenty second or twenty ninth," my mom said.

"Yeah, 'cause Halloween's on a Monday," Mr. Otis joked, sitting next to my mom on the couch.

"Quit!" my mom laughed, punching him on his arm.

"Oh, I uh, congratulations," was all I could think to say.

I went to my room as Mr. Otis called and ordered us some pizza and my mom fixed them a couple of drinks. I wondered if Mr. Otis even thought about the fact that my mom was twenty years older than him; what that would be like in ten or fifteen years from now.

Somehow, my mom scrounged up some money to get me a suit from Rich's in the mall. I know the money didn't come from Mr. Otis because he didn't say word one to me about how much I owed him for the new suit. She found a real sharp looking charcoal grey suit and a blood red tie. From there, we had to take it to the dry cleaner's around the corner for the tailoring.

Because of my large biceps and my muscled thighs, we had to buy a suit that was at least four sizes too big, then have the coat taken in and the slacks taken in at the waist. My mom didn't bother hiding her smirk as the tailor measured me; his hands kept 'accidentally' touching my balls and my schlong.

I wore my suit for Marianne's wedding to Joey. Both Marianne and Douglas said I looked real handsome in it. Douglas even took a couple Polaroids of me.

I Thought Douglas looked kind of funny in his beige suit. I didn't say nothing about it, though. I didn't have to; he kept whispering to me how he hated his suit.

I also thought Marianne looked terrible in her wedding dress. I know she was pregnant, but even if she couldn't wear white, they could have picked a better non-white color than that tangerine color.

Joey had a sister, Gwen that kept asking me and Douglas to dance. I'd guess Gwen was about thirty or so. She was also about maybe thirty or forty pounds overweight.

Joey's mom also kept asking me and Douglas to dance with her a lot. For a religious nut bag, Joey's mom did suggest some very un-religious things to me. And the way her hand kept disappearing under the back of Douglas's suit jacket, I am pretty sure she was suggesting the same stuff to him.

Douglas stayed with my mom and me while Joey and Marianne went to Disney World for their honeymoon. Still kind of drunk from the wedding reception, Douglas and I got into my bed. As usual, he wore just a pair of briefs and I had my tee shirt and shorts.

"Believe that fat bitch, Gwen?" Douglas asked.

We had to admit, she did have some nice tits, though. Then we talked about her fat ass; I wondered if fat girls liked it up the ass. We guessed they probably would since they seemed to have bigger asses.

Talking about Gwen's ass got us both hard and we made sure my door was locked. We found out that my bed frame squeaks, a lot. So, unless my mom was out on a date with Mr. Otis, or whenever she could, with Mr. Steve, or Mr. Burrells, we couldn't fuck. We had to be happy with blow jobs.

I wore the suit again when my mom and Mr. Otis got married. Douglas also wore his beige suit and black tie again. My mom wore a turquoise wedding dress and Mr. Otis wore a matching Turquoise tuxedo.

My sister Cindy came with her latest boyfriend, an angry looking black guy. He tried to break my hand when we was introduced. It was worth it; seeing that look on his face when I came within millimeters of crushing his hand.

Linda dragged Gary up with her from Miami. My sister looked terrible; she was missing a tooth, right in front and had a bunch of tattoos all over. I wanted to tell Linda, she looked older than our mom.

Donna didn't come; she was awaiting trial for possession with intent to distribute and neither my mom nor Mr. Otis were willing to post bail for her just so that she could attend the wedding. Odds were, she wouldn't have come up; she would have just skipped town.

Mr. Otis took my mom to New Orleans for their honeymoon. Again, Douglas came and stayed with me. I had noticed, during the wedding, that Douglas had pierced both of his ears. I knew a stud in the left ear generally meant that you were straight and a piercing in the right ear meant you were gay. Linda's boyfriend Gary had both ears pierced and Douglas whispered that both ears pierced meant you swung both ways.

I didn't ask Gary if that was true. And I knew Douglas didn't swing both ways; neither he nor I had ever even kissed a girl. Of the seven girls in our class in high school, three had boyfriends, two were ugly as sin, one had Downs Syndrome, and the last girl was into girls.

As soon as Mr. Otis and my mom drove off, Douglas got out of his suit. I noticed he was wearing some very small drawers; they were bright red and looked silky.

Running my hand over the shiny material, I could feel Douglas's hard cock straining to burst out of his drawers. He shivered and hugged me, then helped me to get out of my clothes.

He fell back on my bed and I helped him wiggle out of his drawers. His hairless balls were nice and smooth to my touch. I could taste the Tequila Sunrise on his tongue as we kissed.

I took him like that, him on his back, legs around my waist, as if he was a girl. The bed groaned loudly as I hammered into him. Every time I used Douglas's ass, I was always surprised at how tight, how hot his ass is.

After I blasted my spunk up his ass, I took his hard cock into my mouth and swallowed him down to the root. It didn't take long before he blasted his own spunk. Then we lay together, just lay, holding each other.

"I hate it with Joey there all the time," Douglas confessed.

"I bet," I said.

Later on, Douglas made us something to eat. He wore one of my mom's aprons and it looked kind of cute; his naked butt peeking out at me as he skipped around the kitchen. He didn't take it off until he served us the meal. He even me to admit, what he'd made was a lot better than the microwave meals my mom had stacked for us in the freezer.

We raided my mom and Mr. Otis's booze and fixed a couple of drinks. Then we went back to my bedroom and lay back, drinking and looking at my Hustler magazines. Douglas complained about the 'shop-worn pussy' in my Hustlers. I had to agree; some of these women did look pretty rough.

Then Douglas got to the Amateur section. This is where husbands and boyfriends took pictures of their wives or girlfriends and sent them in to Hustler magazine. He looked over these photographs, slowly stroking himself.

"I bet..." he said, then reached over and began to slowly stroke my cock. "Do me?"

We stroked each other, just reading our magazines of 'shop-worn' women. Then, when he was humping against my hand, we dropped the magazines and got into a sixty nine.

"Your mom still got that typewriter?" Douglas asked me the next morning.

"Yeah. Said the correcting tape's 'bout shot, though," I said.

I dug the typewriter out of the bottom of my mom's closet and set it up on the kitchen table for Douglas. He carefully typed out a letter, going real slow because the correcting tape was nearly blank by now and we didn't have any Liquid Paper. He even typed out an envelope's address and then sealed it all up.

"That black guy's still our mailman?" Douglas asked.

"No. Quit the minute you and Marianne moved out," I said, rolling my eyes.

"Ha ha, and comes by at 'bout ten, ten thirty?" Douglas continued.

Douglas met the mailman down at the bank of mailboxes, bought a stamp from him. Scampering back, we again went to my room and again we looked through my magazines until lunch-time.

I found out from Douglas that one of the things Joey did was estate planning. Through his contacts, Joey knew when there would be estate sales long before anyone else. That way, Marianne and Douglas had first shot at the stuff people left behind when they died.

It sounds kind of morbid, but sometimes these people leave behind some pretty valuable stuff. And if their kids don't know about how valuable that necklace is, they'll let it go for maybe fifty bucks when it's really worth about ten, maybe fifteen thousand bucks.

There was an estate sale while my mom and Mr. Otis were still in New Orleans. Marianne picked Douglas and me up and drove us out to this huge old house out in Farmerville. The woman had been in her nineties when she died, and her only child had been in an institution. The sale of the house and the contents was to go to continue paying for the care of the daughter.

I was bored out of my mind; the woman was in her nineties. There was no Penthouse or Hustler magazines. There were no Def Leppard or AC/DC albums. I'm pretty sure Tommy Dorsey and Count Basie were just wonderful; I heard someone say that those LPs in the corner by the console stereo were original pressings, but I wasn't about to bid on them.

"Lots nineteen A, nineteen B, and twenty six A," Douglas whispered to his sister.

"Nineteen B?" Marianne whispered.

"Those are original Chanel hats," Douglas hissed. "And nineteen A; those are all Elsa Schiaparelli originals. From the thirties I bet."

"One hundred?" Marianne asked.

"Go as high as five," Douglas confirmed.

Somehow, Douglas managed to secure all three of the lots he bid on. Marianne managed to get six paintings; big, ugly paintings. That's when I found out why I was there. I was there to carry all this crap to the car.

When they dropped me off at my trailer, right in front of everyone, Douglas hugged me. Okay, the 'everyone' consisted of Marianne and whoever might have looked outside of their trailer at that moment. But still, it was kind of gay, hugging me like that.

"I hope this works," Douglas said, but didn't say anything about what it was that he was talking about.

The next day, Mr. Otis and my mom returned from their honeymoon. From there, I was roped into helping Mr. Otis move out of his tiny apartment. When we got back from the first trip, my mom was not around. By the time we'd dragged the last load of Mr. Otis's crap into the trailer, she still wasn't back from wherever.

She showed up about two hours later, quite drunk and giggly. Mr. Otis was drunk, but he wasn't giggly. I put my headphones on and listened to Motorhead's album 'Ace Of Spades' nice and loud while I worked out.

"What? I can't have me no friends?" I could hear as there was that gap of silence between one song and the next.

Thankfully, the next song started and I was spared having listen to Mr. Otis's answer. But I couldn't help but wonder; Mr. Otis surely knew what my mom was when he'd married her. And, my mom surely heard that minister say 'forsaking all others' when they got married. Even if the man was a rental Man of God, his words were still valid.

Even my headphones couldn't block out the door slamming and screams. Van Halen's 'Fair Warning' also couldn't blot out the 'Fuck you, no fuck you, kiss my ass' that the two of them screamed back and forth.

By the morning, they'd managed to make up. My mom wore that ridiculous nightie, with no panties and I could see her pussy lips, red and raw looking, could see her pubic hair matted and all sticky. I jammed myself underneath the table, trying to hide my boner while eating my Trix cereal.

Mr. Otis came out, dressed for a day at work. They kissed and grabbed each other and told each other they loved each other.

Minute he's gone, my mom's on the phone. I didn't know who she was talking to, but she did tell whoever it was that she was in need of his big old hard cock.

When my mom hung up, she seemed to remember that I was right there. She gave me this real innocent look.

"I uh, Otis don't need hear 'bout this," she said. "Right?"

"Hear 'bout what?" I asked, slurping the milk out of my bowl.

"And that's why you my favorite son," she said and gave me a sloppy kiss.

Mr. Burrells came by a little bit later. I got out of there, left them alone to do whatever. Without Douglas there,

There's nothing to do in our trailer park. I just sat on the log border someone had put up a few years back and watched traffic on Highway 80. Douglas would have won; there were three El Dorados that went by, but only one Camaro. And two TransAms wiped out my score.

About a week later, Douglas and Marianne took me to another estate sale. This one was in Ruston. The owners had been a married couple that had died when some drunk driver hit their car head on. Worse, the woman had been pregnant with their first child. Marianne picked up a bunch of maternity clothes there. Good thing; she was really starting to show.

There was this footlocker that I really liked. Don't ask me what it was about it, other than the forest scene painted on the lid of it. When Marianne saw that I liked it, she put in a bid of twenty bucks. We managed to get it for thirty bucks; Marianne said it was my pay for being manual labor.