The Trashy Virgin(2)

So yeah, the two men are my family now. We've been living like this for a  year now, and Jason and I both turned eighteen recently, celebrating  our birthdays together since we're both September babies. We're our own  little happy trio for better or worse, and given my rocky real family  situation? My mom who's in a psychiatric ward as we speak, and my dad  whom I haven't seen since I was five? I wouldn't trade my men for the  world, no way.





CHAPTER TWO


Brent




I'm not exactly a do-gooder but sometimes the situation's so hopeless  that you've got to intervene. And with my steady job and solid paycheck,  I had to do something for the kids around here.

Jason was the first. I found him living under a bridge one day, literally camped out alone, looking worse for the wear.

That day I'd finished a job and was walking home from the site. I'd  gotten out earlier than usual and taken a detour on a whim, a path by  the river next to the woods. More out of curiosity than anything, I  strolled along, savoring the crisp smell of leaves in the air, a classic  New England fall, and it led me to an abandoned bridge, the stone mossy  and crumbling, probably couldn't hold more than a child. But to my  surprise there was a teen boy camped out nearby.         

     



 

"Hey," I said, my voice neutral.

Jason turned to me, eyes wary, hands paused on a tin can of food. He didn't say anything, just turned away again.

"Hey," I said, more loudly this time. Jason was clean and neat I could  see, but yeah, there was a blue tent erected not fifteen feet away and a  small pile of garbage off to the side, indicating that the boy had  lived here for at least a week.

"You need some help?" I tried again.

And the boy didn't answer, ignoring me as he devoured peaches straight  from the can, so hungry that some of the syrup ran down his chin. I  shook my head, walking away, but the next day, getting out early again, I  took the same detour and came upon the same boy. My efforts at  conversation fell flat once more, but over the next month, we built up a  rapport of sorts. Soon, I took him to a diner for a meal and for the  first time, he told me his name and story. It was really sad, no child  should have to endure what he'd been through. His parents were a mess to  the point where he'd left voluntarily, living on his own by the bridge,  keeping to himself so that none of his friends realized that he had no  one, he'd struck out on his own.

And I felt bad to be honest. I had a solid working-class background, and  the union    was looking for some apprentices to begin the next  training cycle. So I brought it up with Jason and he pounced at the  opportunity.

"That'd be awesome man," he rumbled, looking down. The boy was clean and  fed, sure, but nights were getting cold and that tent was no protection  against a freezing Maine winter. So I offered him the opportunity to  stay with me, and Jason refused.

"Naw," he drawled. "I'm good."

"No prob," I grunted in return. "Just let me know if you change your mind."

And when the weather got colder, leaves falling from trees, the  thermostat crusted with ice each morning, Jason took me up on my offer.  So yeah, I set the boy up with a room in my trailer, he's pretty  self-sufficient, we don't talk much but he seems fine, going to school,  keeping up with his work. He'll be starting an apprenticeship with UAW  next fall, and under my tutelage, he can't help but succeed.

And that leads us to our next roommate, Katy. I've known Katy for a  while, well, at least knew the girl existed. She's been living in the  trailer park as long as I have, and I've watched her grow from a  distance. How that female survived is beyond me, having Tina Parks as a  mom is no piece of cake. Not only is Tina a certifiable hoarder, that  trailer's got stuff piled up to the ceiling, visible through its slitted  windows, but she's mentally unstable too. All of us know it, we've been  witness to her outbursts, her crazy wailing and screaming, the  paramedics dragging her off that one night.

And the last time that happened, Katy was seventeen, no longer a little  girl. But she'd been left standing outside, dazed, like Dorothy awakened  from her dream, brown eyes wide, lips trembling. And I took pity on  her. The poor thing had nowhere to turn, there was clearly no  electricity at her home and she was shivering violently in the cold New  England wind.

So I did what anyone would do.

"You need a place to stay?" I asked gruffly.

And the girl nodded, eyes wide.

"Thanks Mr. Larson," she said in a low voice. "I'd appreciate it."

And that's how I ended up with two strays in my home. Except the two  kids have changed a lot, grown and matured shockingly fast. In the last  year, Jason's filled out and become a man. He's taller than I am, his  head almost brushing the ceiling, but not as big, not as muscular.

And Katy  …  but oh god, I should be shot for having these thoughts.  Because the beautiful little girl is definitely not a little girl  anymore. She's put on about twenty pounds in the last year, her skinny  frame filling out into a lush, voluptuous woman, huge tits that bounce  under her t-shirts, a big ass and wide hips that seem to brush both  sides of the double-wide when she walks.

And Jason and I have noticed for sure. Who couldn't? The sweet scent  that trails off her skin at all times, the warm brown eyes that you  could drown in, fuck  …  like I said, I should be shot for having these  thoughts. And the brunette doesn't make it easy for us either,  tantalizing us in the most innocent of ways.

But I'm a grown man and I'm not going to give into my baser instincts, I  refuse to let myself become that dirty older guy. But good intentions  are just that, and I'm a man, a man with needs despite everything. I can  get women, don't get me wrong, but it's left me feeling empty inside  lately, you know what I mean? I don't need another hanger-on who stinks  to high heaven of cheap perfume, her breasts saggy and draggy with  leathery orange skin. Not when I have the real thing right under my own  roof, temptation and innocence wrapped into one, tantalizing me day and  night. And it all went to shit one day when I came home from work early,  letting myself into the warmth of the trailer, stamping my feet in the  doorway, coming to a stop when I saw Katy.

Because the brunette stood at the sink washing dishes in nothing but a  tiny camisole and booty shorts, nipples poking out, creamy thighs on  display with that huge ass like a shelf.         

     



 

"Brent," she said with a welcoming smile, her voice low. "What are you doing back so soon?"

I could have asked her the same question. I thought she had some  errands, something to do for her upcoming stint at beauty school, so it  was surprising to see her home at four in the afternoon.

"I'd ask you the same thing," I growled, devouring that fine, sassy form  before forcing myself to look away. Fuck, she was so gorgeous, those  huge jugs almost breaking free, the way her ass was so curvy and  rounded.

The girl flushed.

"I- I thought I had practice today, but the model didn't show so I came  home early," she panted, grabbing a dish towel, futilely trying to cover  her breasts. I almost laughed, the dishtowel was about the size of a  postage stamp and no match for her huge girls. Besides, I'd seen those  tits before, it happens when you live in such a small space. You catch a  glimpse of other people's bodies and Katy had a body that made mine rev  like a Ferrari, my motor going deep and hungry. I literally couldn't  say anything for a minute, brain frozen, imprinted with the image of her  generous curves, that sweet expanse of skin on display.

But disgusted, I forced myself back to reality. Like I said, I'm not gonna be that dirty old man that everyone talks about.

"Job got out," I grunted, still not looking at her. "They let us go  early today." Much good my efforts to be respectful were. I could see  still see Katy in my mind's eye, those huge breasts, that generous ass  burned on my irises. "Where's Jason?"

And the brunette shrugged a little, smiling at me helplessly, still covered by nothing but the panties and tiny camisole.

"He's at school," she said. "Ms. Smith wanted to talk to him about  career options, maybe a job as a dental hygienist or even a physician's  assistant."

I growled under my breath. Dentistry? Being a fucking physician's  assistant? Jason was a man and he wasn't going to be doing a job like  that, fuck no. I'd already set him up with an apprenticeship with the  union   , you can make six figures after a few years, so fuck that  dental assistant crap. But if I wasn't mistaken, this Ms. Smith  character was probably after Jason's tail in the physical sense. Our boy  had grown into a tall, strapping man with a curve to his dick that  couldn't be missed and Ms. Smith probably had the hots for this  new-grown man.

"Tell him that the apprenticeship pays better," I grunted, still trying  not to look at Katy. "No need to discuss other career options."