Trailer Trash Teen Hates Rules Ch. 07

Sonia encased her big breasts in a blue sports bra and pulled up matching blue sports briefs, adjusting these panties around her buttocks, pubic area and pink vagina, before putting on a blue running top and matching blue shorts. She tied her long black hair back in a pony-tail and put a white sweatband around her forehead, then put on her white cotton socks and running shoes.

Going downstairs, Sonia did her stretching and then took to her heels, the athletic teenager making good pace on her hour-long run, her stunning beauty and the bouncing of her breasts attracting much attention from passing men. Running down the street, Sonia could feel how wet she was getting between her legs and in the saddle of her sports briefs. Much of this was due to sweat on the warm summer morning, but a proportion was also due to sexual excitement, and anticipation.

Sonia was as usual working at the supermarket that morning, but her shift only lasted until noon. And in the afternoon, her friends Andrea and Holly who likewise were working during the morning only this Thursday, were visiting the house with their respective boyfriends Steve and Jeff. However, the best thing was that Mike, the great-looking stud was coming along too. Whenever Sonia thought of Mike, the area between her legs responded. Her dreams of Mike, bare-chested and wearing shorts, throwing a football as he displayed his muscles caused her to wake up with a damp vagina on several occasions recently. She could not miss that Mike definitely seemed interested in her and this afternoon, well maybe nothing would happen but then again ...

Returning to her house, Sonia did her cool-down and stretching then went upstairs to take her shower. Standing naked under the shower-head, water pouring down her black skin Sonia applied liberal amounts of soap to wash away all the sweat from her run. Sonia turned her attention to the more private, feminine areas of her body. Washing her pubic hair, white bubbles forming around the black curls, Sonia pushed the fingers of her left hand further between her legs to wash her vagina, feeling pleasure at the touch to her vulva. The beautiful black teenager squirmed at the feelings, her bare toes clenching and unclenching the deeper her fingers went into the bright pink interior of her vagina.

With her right hand, Sonia took more soap and washed the firm, round cheeks of her bare bottom, her fingers pushing further between her buttocks before they reached her tight, pink anus. Sonia's fingers lingered on her anal area, this doubling the pleasure with fingers of her left hand already in her pussy, and Sonia was unable to resist pushing her right finger into her rectum, the pretty African-American girl moaning with pleasure.

Sonia would happily have masturbated until she came, but the girl decided that maybe it would be better to save herself in case things went well with Mike this afternoon. Withdrawing her hands from her private female area, Sonia finished her shower, dried her beautiful black body and dressed in fresh underwear, a white bra and panties and her blue supermarket uniform and after brushing her teeth, went down to the kitchen for breakfast.

Her brother Sean was already in the kitchen, washing his breakfast dishes, dressed in the black trousers and mauve shirt of the sanitary disposal company that was his summer employer. "Mauve really is your color, Sean," joked Sonia.

Sean playfully flicked some soapy water at his sister. "How long is your shift today?" he asked.

"Just until noon," said Sonia as she got herself some cereal and fruit. "Which reminds me, Holly and Andrea are coming over with their boyfriends for the afternoon. Mike is coming over too. We were going to rent some videos."

"Have fun," said Sean.

"I'm sure you'll have fun today brother, going into girl's bathrooms all day. Does Penny know how you spend your days?" commented Sonia, to which her brother again splashed her with water in retaliation for this latest joke, before the siblings finished and left for work.

Arriving at the supermarket, Sonia felt the eyes of two young men upon her. The first was Kate's creepy twin brother Dylan, the second more welcome set of eyes those of Mike, Sonia feeling week at her knees at his fine physique as he unloaded and stacked some orange juice.

*

Breanna, still exhausted, had showered and was wearing a tee-shirt, mini-skirt and sneakers when her Aunt Anna came to collect her from the fitness center and drive her to the charity store, where she would work with Isabella and Megan Delaney. The aunt and niece made the journey in complete silence, Anna still furious about the night before with John and Samantha's engagement announcement ruined, her younger sister Kirsty humiliated and wrongly accused of being an adulteress, and Bob arrested based on false accusations made to the police by Breanna. Still sulking after the humiliation inflicted by Samantha that morning at the gym, Breanna was in no mood to speak either.

Another young lady not enjoying her car ride was Isabella, with her mother's creepy, dickhead, loser boyfriend Carlos only too happy to volunteer to drive Isabella to work. All the way across town, Isabella had felt the pervert's eyes upon her tits and her legs. Whenever Carlos stopped be this for traffic, stop signs or red lights, for some reason he always found the need to put the transmission lever from drive to park, his hand straying close to the hem of the teenager's mini-skirt and her legs.

Finally, they arrived at the charity store and Isabella jumped from the car, Carlos enjoying the momentary glimpse of Isabella's panties as the teenager made a hasty exit. She headed across the street, seeing Breanna arrive with her aunt. Anna was taking no chances of Breanna pulling one of her disappearing acts today.

Morag Delaney let the girls in as Anna drove away to work and escorted them to the kitchen where her daughter Megan and Megan's boyfriend Paul were finishing coffee. "Hi!" exclaimed Megan, greeting the two newcomers enthusiastically. "Welcome aboard!"

Breanna rolled her eyes, having seen the girl at church and knowing a little about her, but with Isabella having never met Megan before she seemed a little taken aback by the pretty red-head's naïve enthusiasm, which was in stark contrast to the cynicism of the streetwise girls from the wrong side of the tracks. Isabella's eye raise to Breanna silently asked, 'Is she for real?' with the same response from Breanna indicating, 'Yes, she is'.

Megan, who was dressed in a white tee-shirt advocating some sort of human rights organization, a short black skirt and white sandals moved across to Paul, taking him by the hand to make her introductions. "This is my boyfriend Paul. Paul, this is Breanna and this is Isabella. They're doing volunteer work with Mom and I."

"Nice to meet you," said Paul. He shook hands with Breanna and Isabella, not an easy task given how tightly Megan clutched onto his other hand. Breanna and Isabella maintained a façade of politeness, both girls thinking, 'What a square'.

Paul looked at the clock. "Well I'd better be going. Dad doesn't like me to be late for work."

"I'll miss you," said Megan, possessively embracing her boyfriend. "Will you miss me too?"

"Of course I'll miss you," said Paul, he and Megan sharing an embrace and then a kiss before Paul headed off for the day, Megan giving him a wave goodbye.

"Call me as soon as you get home," said Megan.

"Will do, sweetie," said Paul, the front doorbell ringing as he exited the charity store.

Again, Breanna had the advantage over the disbelieving Isabella of having observed the clingy Megan and the sugar-sweet relationship she shared with her compliant boyfriend before, but both teenagers felt as though they could throw up from so much saccharine.

"Now, I've got meetings all day today so I'll leave you in my daughter's capable hands to show you the ropes," said Morag Delaney. "I should be back around three."

"Don't worry Mom, we'll have a great time," Megan assured her mother, before the older woman headed out, again with the front doorbell ringing.

Isabella's attention was drawn to a poster on the wall, featuring a man aged in his 30s, dressed as a cowboy with the caption, 'Injustice Anywhere is Injustice Everywhere.'

"That's the Killer Cowboy," said Isabella, recognizing the death-row serial killer from the many news reports on the case.

"His name is Karl Smith," Megan corrected her. "My boyfriend Paul and I went to Philadelphia last week to assist in helping him escape the injustices of the death penalty."

"Why?" asked Isabella bluntly.

"Because the death penalty applied to him is a terrible miscarriage of justice and an infringement of all of our human rights," said Megan. "The focus should be on rehabilitation."

"The Killer Cowboy didn't think of the human rights of his victims and their families when he shot them dead in cold blood," said Isabella.

"I think you might be missing the point that human rights are more important," said Megan to the disbelieving Isabella. "Now let's start with cataloging some of the donations we received yesterday."

Megan led the way to the office, Isabella whispering to Breanna, "Is she serious?'

"Yeah, she is," responded Breanna. The blonde sighed and rolled her eyes.

In the office, Megan turned on the computer and inserted the square floppy disk into the hard drive, before turning her attention to some of the donations. One was a box of food, which included several packets of cookies. Breanna was hungry after the work-out in the gym, and thanks to lying in bed until the last possible moment Isabella had had nothing for breakfast, so the girls grabbed a packet of chocolate-chip cookies.

As they went to open it, Megan asked, "What are you doing?"

"We're hungry," said Breanna.

"You can't eat the donations," said Megan.

"Why not, we'll pay for them," said Isabella, reaching for her purse.

"That's not the point, it's not permitted," said Megan. "Anyway, if you'd like some food, I'll get you something much healthier." The girl got up from her chair and returned a few seconds later with three big red apples. "These are much nicer."

Breanna and Isabella each took an apple without enthusiasm, and Breanna took a bite of hers, the blonde's face turning to an expression of revulsion as she bit into the flowery, poor-tasting fruit, spitting it out onto the carpet.

"Oh yuck, it tastes like fucking shit!" she exclaimed. She threw the apple at the wall.

After such a violent reaction by her friend, Isabella was not about to eat her own apple and put it into her purse. Perhaps she could give it to her mother's loser boyfriend Carlos later?

Megan, eating her own apple, regarded Breanna with dismay. "There's starving children in Ethiopia who would love that."

"So give me their fucking address in fucking Ethiopia, I'll fucking post it to them," said Breanna, to which Isabella laughed, but Megan looked horrified.

"Don't you care about starving African children?" asked Megan.

"I don't give a shit about any starving children," said Breanna. "Anybody who tries to help them out is selfish."

"Selfish?" gasped the dismayed Megan.

"Yeah," said Isabella. "Donating money and having concerts and other shit like that doesn't help anyone. It just makes the people who are doing it feel better, and the fucking kids still starve to fucking death. Pure selfishness."

"That's a terrible way to think," said Megan.

"I'll give you a quarter and you can call somebody who cares," said the defiant Breanna.

"Maybe we've gotten off on the wrong foot here today," said Megan. "Perhaps things would be better if I let you do something you would like to do?"

"I want a cigarette," said Breanna.

"Yeah, I want one too," said Isabella.

"Well, okay then," said Megan. "But just five minutes, you need to smoke outside and remember, smoking gives you lung cancer."

"There's no proof smoking causes lung cancer," said Breanna as the girls dived for their smokes and lighters, remembering hearing this one day.

"It does cause lung cancer," said Megan. "There is a link between smoking and lung cancer."

"Yeah, a link but they can't prove fuck all in a laboratory," said Breanna, determined to have the last word as she and Isabella went out the back. Megan ran her fingers through her long red hair, dismayed by how things were going so far. She had really wanted to help these girls from under-privileged backgrounds with this volunteer work, but so far they were not embracing it.

*

Outside, Breanna and Isabella smoked their cigarettes and indulged in one of their other favorite pastimes - bitching.

"What a fucking do-gooder," said Isabella, taking deep breaths of cigarette smoke.

"Yeah, I can't fucking stand her," said Breanna. The girl put on show her talents as a mimic. "I'm Megan, this is my boyfriend Paul. Have you met my boyfriend Paul? Paul is my boyfriend."

Isabella laughed. "You've seen her before, right?"

Breanna puffed on her cigarette. "Yeah, at church on Sunday. John, Kate, Dylan and the others can't fucking stand her either."

"She would have got on well with Mr. Allen from our school," observed Isabella. "He was a fucking do-gooder cunt too."

"Yeah, he was full of shit," said Breanna. "Too bad he's fucking dead."

"Yeah, he really lost his head," said Isabella, both teenagers collapsing in laughter at the joke which at very best was in bad taste.

The late Mr. Allen had been an enthusiastic but hopelessly misguided young teacher who had arrived at the terrible high school in 1991 with the aim of promoting human rights and combatting racism. However, while issues such as truancy, literacy and delinquency were all major problems at the school, racism was not until Mr. Allen's ideas for promoting racial harmony and equality - delivered in a preachy, self-righteous and patronizing manner - caused these very problems and tensions.

Breanna intensely disliked the man, but things went downhill rapidly when Mr. Allen falsely accused her brother Dustin and his friends of spraying racist graffiti on a wall. This was only partially true, Dustin and company were responsible for much of the graffiti but not the racist elements, with this added later by parties unknown. While Breanna and Dustin did not get along, she was quick to jump to the defense of her brother and his friends, the teenagers carrying out a vindictive hate campaign against the teacher that lasted for several months. This mostly included spreading false rumors that Mr. Allen was a pedophile who preyed on and sexually molested children and under-age teenage girls; and that he had been embezzling money from the school. The former rumors were taken seriously by members of an outlaw motorcycle gang in the area, who hid in the bushes one evening waiting for the teacher to return home, before jumping out and bashing him senseless with baseball bats, rocks and a length of chain.

It was several months later in the summer of 1992 that Mr. Allen died, driving his car into the back of a truck, the tray decapitating him and causing instant death. There was some conjecture as to whether this was a genuine car accident or a suicide, but in the end it was ruled an accident. However, even in death the teacher got no peace. Dustin, his friends, Breanna, Isabella and some of their own friends broke into the cemetery one night to vandalize his grave, with Breanna proving how callous she could be by heaping trash on top of the gravestone of Mr. Allen's grandmother and setting it alight so the gang of vandals could see what they were doing.

The girls stubbed out their cigarette butts and returned inside, becoming increasingly bored as they assisted Megan with recording donations. The front doorbell ringing was a major source of relief, and Megan led the way out, seeing a gray-haired woman with glasses aged about 70 at the front counter.

"Hi Mrs. Thompson," said Megan. "How are you?"

The old woman smiled thinly. "Oh, I'm getting there Megan. It's so strange not having George around after more than 50 years of marriage."

"I can imagine," said Megan sympathetically.

"That's the reason I came here," said Mrs. Thompson. "I have George's old clothes and his gardening magazines for donation. George always took such pride in our garden, and now he's gone I can't bring myself to pull out a single weed ..."

"I guess it takes time, it's only a month since his passing," said Megan. "We'll get everything out of your car for you."

The three girls removed the bags of clothes and the very heavy box of gardening magazines to the back room, before Megan wished Mrs. Thompson all the best and she went on her way.

"That dead guy really liked reading about gardens, hey?" asked Isabella looking in disbelief at the huge box of gardening magazines.

"Mr. Thompson was a very fine man," said Megan, not impressed by Isabella's tactless reference to him as 'that dead guy.' "His death was such a tragedy."

"If he was old though, it's not really a tragedy is it," said Breanna.

"He passed away while he and his wife were enjoying their summer vacation in Florida," said Megan. "He died playing golf."

"Yeah, golf is a rough sport," laughed Isabella.

"Maybe he died of over-excitement," said Breanna sarcastically, laughing along with her friend. "Golf is so exciting, I couldn't think of anything more exciting than walking around a fucking patch of grass hitting a fucking ball into a fucking hole."

Megan glowered at Breanna and Isabella for their total lack of tact. "Mr. Thompson suffered a heart attack while driving a golf cart. It went out of control and into a river at the edge of the course."

Breanna and Isabella continued to smirk at the mental image. "So, he drowned then?" asked Isabella.

"No, he was killed and eaten by an alligator," said Megan, the pretty red-haired teenager mortified when Breanna and Isabella responded by collapsing in fits of laughter, neither girl able to control her giggling. "What is so funny?" demanded Megan.

"You're fucking shitting us, an alligator got him?" asked Breanna through shrieks of laughter.

"Yes, he was killed and eaten by an alligator," confirmed Megan.

"Fuck, his time was up," said Isabella as she continued to laugh. "Heart attack, golf cart goes out of control, into the river, along comes the alligator, crunch, crunch, crunch."

"You think that a man getting killed and eaten by an alligator is funny?" asked the horrified Megan. "His poor wife couldn't even have a proper burial service for him."

"It was just the way you said it," said Breanna. "We were thinking, you can't be fucking serious."

Breanna and Isabella collapsed into further shrieks of laughter, both girls convulsing from laughing so much to Megan's disgust. "Laugh it up girls, laugh it up," she said, it taking a full five minutes for Breanna and Isabella to get themselves under control and assist Megan with sorting out the donated items.

The clothes were first, then Breanna went to take the magazines out of the box for sorting. At first Breanna thought how strange it was that anybody would buy so many magazines about boring gardens and gardening, then paused as she discovered that in fact only the top layer of magazines were about gardening. The other magazines underneath, far greater in number, were more adult in nature.

"Hey look at this," called Breanna, holding up one of the magazines open at the centerfold which showed a tall, blonde girl holding up her skirt, her panties around her thighs, it very obvious that this girl was a natural blonde.

Megan's face registered horror, her blue eyes wide. "Oh my!" she exclaimed.

Isabella's dark eyes also went wide, but due to amusement. "Fuck, it looks like Carlos's private library," she laughed.