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*Author’s Note: Any and all persons engaging in any sexual activity are at least eighteen years of age.
Disclaimers: This story has been edited by myself, using Microsoft Spell-Check. You have been forewarned.
Mrs. Duvalier was driving Mindy Campion crazy. The young woman was renting a room in the old woman’s home, one hundred a week. But Mrs. Duvalier had so many rules and regulations that it was nearly impossible to remember them all. The old woman complained bitterly about any derelictions, real or imagined.
The worst of the complaints was the woman’s constant sniping about Charlene’s crying and fussing.
“She a baby yeah, what you ‘spect her be doing?” Mindy snapped when the woman complained, again, about Charlene’s crying.
“I expect you to keep her quiet,” the woman fussed. “Especially when I’m trying to sleep.”
Mindy again asked her parents if she could move back home. And again they told her to keep herself and her ‘little n*gger brat’ away.
So, Mindy searched for ‘Rooms For Rent’ in the on-line newspaper of the University of Louisiana at DeGarde. She used her cell phone; Mrs. Duvalier refused any usage of her antiquated computer without her hovering over.
‘Clean double wide trailer, must love children,’ Mindy read.
“Hey, calling ’bout that room for rent yeah,” Mindy said, keeping her voice low should Mrs. Duvalier be hovering nearby.
“No kidding? Man, just posted that,” the man’s voice chuckled.
“And that ‘must love children?’ That ain’t going be no problem; got me one my own,” Mindy said.
She knew she should be leery of moving into a trailer, with a man. But unless the man was an axe-murderer, he’d be a welcome change from the quite unfriendly and shrill and demanding Mrs. Duvalier.
“Be right there,” Mindy said as she checked that Charlene’s diaper was dry.
“Where you going?” Mrs. Duvalier snapped as Mindy carried infant and car seat past.
“Mrs. Duvalier, I’m renting me a room here,” Mindy said. “Ain’t paying you no hundred bucks a week have tell you everything, huh?”
“Keep it up with that attitude, young lady,” Mrs. Duvalier warned.
Mindy strapped the car seat/carrier in, gave her daughter a kiss, then scurried around to the driver’s side of the Kia. She was very careful to steer clear of Mrs. Duvalier’s car. The battered old car looked ready to quit at any moment. But Mrs. Duvalier was quick to point out what she perceived to be new scratches and dents in the rusted body.
In trailer Lot A, George Melancon smiled as yet another person called about the room for rent. This one had sounded like an immature young man. A simple declaration of ‘no drugs, no underage drinking, no more than three visitors at a time’ had discouraged the young man.
A female had asked if there were any females living in the trailer. When George had explained it was just him and his son, the woman abruptly ended the call.
A car crunched to a stop outside. George wondered if that was Mindy Campion; the woman had said she’d be right over. A moment later, a small knock sounded at the door.
“Hello,” George said, smiling. “That was quick yeah.”
Part of his smile was out of a genuine friendliness. The larger part of the smile was because he had to look down, really look down to see Mindy Campion. The stoop she stood on was four inches lower than the entrance to his trailer. At five feet, ten inches, George stood nearly two feet taller than the visitor.
“I called ’bout that room?” Mindy said in her small, squeaky voice.
“Yeah you did,” George agreed. “Come on in. Hi Sweetheart, hi, what’s your name?”
“Say I’m Charlene Michelle Campion,” Mindy told her daughter.
Charlene just smiled her toothless smile. George stepped aside so the two could enter. Then he allowed the heavy screen door to shut.
“Living room. Kitchen and dining room’s right there. Already got half the refrigerator and freezer set up for you,” George pointed out.
He fought hard against smirking. On even terrain, it was obvious that Mindy Campion was four foot five or four foot six. Dressed as she was in matching blouse and shorts, she looked like a little girl. Especially with her hair in a long brown ponytail.
“I can use stove and stuff?” Mindy asked.
“Well, yeah,” George said, finding the question to be an odd one.
“Place I’m staying now? She about lose her mind I use that stove,” Mindy answered.
“Oh. Washer and dryer right here, see?” George said, pulling on the bi-fold door. “Don’t know what you using, but my boy’s in cloth diapers. Wouldn’t believe how much I’m saving using them.”
“And I can use that?” Mindy asked, looking at the washing machine.
“Uh, yeah,” George said. “And down here’s the bedroom.”
“Man, this nice yeah,” Mindy said as she looked at the small bedroom.
There was a twin sized bed, a small chest of drawers and a low dresser. The bedside table had a simple brass lamp, which was on, casting a soft light around the room.
While Mindy was looking at the bedroom, George fielded yet another bahis firmaları call about the room for rent. Again, when he stressed ‘no drugs, no underage drinking, no large number of guests,’ the caller spat an ugly comment at George and hung up.
“And here’s the bathroom,” George said, pointing to the room across the hall.
“How much this is?” Mindy asked.
“Seventy five a week,” George said.
“I take it yeah,” Mindy said.
“Excuse me, Bobby’s up,” George said as they both heard a baby crying.
A moment later, George entered the living room, cradling a baby boy in his muscular arms. Mindy smiled widely as she watched the masculine, almost imposing looking man as he fussed over the child.
“How old he is?” she asked.
“Be eight months old tomorrow,” George smiled. “Didn’t ask, but how old’s Charlene?”
“Four months, two days,” Mindy said.
“Daddy in her life?” George asked.
“Much as he wanting be,” Mindy said, pretty face twisting in disgust. “Which ain’t none at all.”
“Same here. Momma comes over when she feels like it. And she knows. She even looks half-stoned? She ain’t about be coming in here,” George said.
“And thing of it is? First, he’s all saying ‘She black? Know she can’t be my kid, know what I’m saying?'” Mindy said. “Come find out? He’s got him a Daddy’s black.”
“I’m guessing he don’t look black,” George said. “Come on, let you look at the lease while I get Bobby’s bottle.”
Mindy watched as George put a measuring cup half filled with water into the microwave. He pulled a bottle of formula out of the refrigerator and dumped a tablespoon of rice cereal into the bottle, then shook it up. His last act was to drop the bottle into the now warmed water.
“Oh, that’s smart,” Mindy said.
“Yeah, got to kind of poke a bigger hole in the nipple, because of the cereal? So, got to make sure the water’s not taller than the bottle,” George said.
While she sat at the kitchen table, rocking the infant seat/ carrier with her foot, reading the lease agreement, George looked at Mindy. She was short, slender, with a narrow face. It was a pretty face, with lightly tanned skin, warm brown eyes, small nose, and pouting pink lips.
George fought down his smile. Mindy read the lease agreement, pretty lips moving as she read to herself.
George was horrible at judging bra sizes, but he could tell Mindy’s breasts were quite large for such a tiny figure. Her belly had very little of the paunch that carrying a baby would have surely put there. Her legs were shapely, lightly tanned.
“Where it say ‘overnight guests’ here?” Mindy said.
“We’re both adults,” George said. “I don’t expect you to live like a nun. But your boyfriend? Can’t be staying here every night when you the only one on the lease.”
“Clarence ain’t staying overnight no,” Mindy said forcefully.
“Doesn’t have to be Clarence,” George said. “S’pose you meet you someone nice?”
“Have be real nice after this,” Mindy said, indicating her daughter.
The bottle had been sitting in the hot water long enough. George held the bottle to his son’s lips. Bobby began sucking heartily. Mindy smiled.
“Man! He really going after that, huh?” she asked.
“Because it’s good stuff, huh boy?” George asked.
“How old you are?” Mindy asked.
“Me? Thirty three,” George said.
He was tall, well-muscled, which was quite obvious in the pull over shirt he was wearing. His hair was a thick, wavy brown. His face was broad, strong looking, with warm brown eyes, a large nose, and ready smile.
Mindy looked at the brown chest hairs escaping from his shirt neck opening and felt something between her legs she’d not felt in a while. Not since giving birth.
“About finished filling that out?” George asked as Mindy scribbled her signature on the application form.
“Uh huh,” Mindy said. “Now, when I can move in?”
“Need check it out first,” George said, face taking on a slightly hard cast.
He smiled gently. Then he shrugged and nodded with his head toward his son.
“Sorry. Don’t mean come off all mean and stuff, but got my boy need think about. You some kind of drug addict? Got crazy ex-boyfriend looking find your ass? I want know about it before I let you in my place,” George said.
“Oh. Oh, yeah, that makes sense,” Mindy agreed.
“I’ll call you, okay?” George said.
Two days later, Mindy gave Mrs. Duvallier her one week’s notice as stipulated in the woman’s lease. The woman immediately flew into a rage.
“Well, you’re not getting your deposit back, I can tell you that right now,” the woman snarled bitterly.
“Mrs. Duvalier, I ain’t done nothing not be getting my two fifty back,” Mindy protested.
“What about them scratches on my car when you was backing out?” the woman demanded.
“Scratches been there before I was even born,” Mindy declared.
Mindy took pictures with her cell phone. She recorded the condition of the bedroom. She recorded the condition of the bathroom. And she recorded the condition of the kitchen.
She kaçak iddaa also took numerous pictures of Mrs. Duvalier’s 1983 Buick LeSabre. Nowhere in the lease did it say anything about the car, but Mindy wasn’t taking any chances.
George helped Mindy unload her car. He even carried the heavy boxes to her room. Then he had Brenda Broussard, the eighteen year old girl from Trailer Lot E come over to watch Bobby and Charlene.
George got into his truck and returned with Mindy to Mrs. Duvalier’s house to get the crib. Mrs. Duvalier tried to prevent Mindy from entering the house but the sight of George, muscles straining his tee shirt did silence the woman. Again, Mindy took pictures of bedroom and bathroom while George folded the crib.
“Mrs. Duvalier? Here’s your key, won’t be needing it no more,” Mindy said, putting the key onto the chest of drawers.
“Mr. George, how old she is?” Brenda asked George in a whisper as George gave the girl five bucks for her fourteen minutes of babysitting.
“She’s nineteen and a few months,” George chuckled. “Don’t look old enough, huh?”
Brenda didn’t answer, just looked at the diminutive woman again, then left the trailer.
“She’s a real good babysitter,” George told Mindy. “And any trouble? She got her daddy and two brothers right there.”
“Okay,” Mindy agreed as George set up the baby’s crib in Mindy’s room.
The next morning, Bobby woke George from a deep slumber. The man smiled at the infant, kissed him all over his face, then put a dry diaper onto him.
When George stepped out of his bedroom, he saw that they were not the only ones awake. Mindy was just taking a small bottle out of a bowl of hot water.
Her cheap polyester panties stretched tightly across a very shapely rear end. A goodly portion of her buttocks peeked out the bottom of her panties.
George felt his cock harden immediately, looking at the plump bottom. Then when she turned, he could see a dark triangle in the front of her panties. HE could also see a good portion of her belly as her tee shirt was too short to reach down to the waistband of the panties.
She smiled and whistled as she touched the hot glass of the bottle. He smiled as his eyes fixed on her large breasts in the snug tee shirt. He could see her large areolae through the thin material.
Her long brown hair hung loosely to her waist. George fought the smirk; Mindy had a bad case of bed hair. But, he was sure he had his own case of bed hair as well.
“Good morning,” she said, then scampered from the kitchen.
“Uh huh, good morning,” George agreed as he watched her beautiful breasts bobble in their snug confine.
“Aw yeah, boy, we got us a good one, huh?” George said as he heated up a bottle for his son.
He stirred in a tablespoon of the rice cereal. Bobby sucked greedily on the bottle, safe in his father’s arms. George found a jar of apple sauce and grabbed Bobby’s Mickey Mouse spoon.
“And, Mickey Mouse says it’s time to eat,” George said, putting his son into the high chair.
George fed the boy, then changed the child’s diaper again.
“Boy, must think diapers grow on trees, huh?” George teased.
“Tell me ’bout it, huh?” Mindy said as she carried Charlene into the kitchen.
George was pleased to see that Mindy had not changed out of her sleepwear. He looked at the dark patches that showed through her tee shirt, the dark triangle that showed through the panties.
“I remember bring my oatmeal?” she asked herself as she looked into the pantry.
“Got some instant,” George offered.
“Man, instant? Wouldn’t feed that my dog,” Mindy said.
“Didn’t know you had you a dog,” George teased. “Where he at?”
“Know what I mean,” she giggled.
Again, as Mindy looked around on her shelf, George admired the young woman’s pudgy buttocks. As she bent, more of her buttocks peeked out at him.
“Ah ha!” Mindy said.
George put Bobby into his playpen. Mindy tried to balance Charlene while she arranged her breakfast items on the counter.
“Can put her in here with Bobby,” George offered.
“I can? Thanks,” Mindy said.
When she bent nearly double over the short rail of the playpen, George watched her cute bottom.
“Damn, that ass is hot,” he blurted out.
Mindy froze for a millisecond. The words stirred something inside of her guts as they registered.
She’d just finished her time of the month yesterday. She was always easily aroused, excited just after completion of her period.
And she was attracted to her new landlord. Which was part of the reason she’d not changed out of her sleepwear of tee shirt and panties when she’d come out of her bedroom. Which was why, after feeding Charlene, after putting a fresh diaper on the infant, she’d not put on a robe, or a bra, or a pair of shorts to come out of her room a second time.
Mindy froze for a millisecond. Then she gave a little wiggle of her buttocks as she placed Charlene onto the blanket covered bottom of the playpen.
George wished he could take the words back the moment kaçak bahis he blurted them out. Mindy had not even been here a full twenty four hours and already, he was making sexual comments to her. Mindy’s playful little wiggle of her buttocks relieved George’s worries.
Mindy straightened up. Then, in full view of George, she stuck a finger under the leg opening of her skimpy bikini panties and pulled them out of the crack of her ass.
“Thanks. But it’s too big,” she said lightly.
“Fixing make some coffee; want some?” George asked, hoping to change the subject.
“Man! Love coffee yeah,” Mindy agreed.
While Mindy used the microwave to make her bowl of far too sugary oatmeal, George quickly cooked himself a bacon and egg scramble. Mindy watched as he stirred in a heaping tablespoon of fiery salsa. Then he toasted two pieces of wheat bread.
“Figured out, need something can eat with one hand,” George explained as he fisted the breakfast sandwich. “What you take in your coffee?”
“So, what you do?” Mindy asked as they munched their breakfast.
“Delivery for St. Elizabeth’s Distillery,” George said. “Grateful for that; gives me weekends off.”
Mindy remembered her mother’s ranting and railing against a brewery being built in their community. She also remembered her father’s delight.
After the completion of the brewery and distillery, Tim Campion would ‘have a few’ which usually ended with him passed out on the couch. And Michelle Campion would scream and curse at Tim until Tim would wake up, come to. Then both would argue loudly until it was time to go to bed.
Mindy didn’t blame St. Elizabeth’s for that; this pattern of behavior had been going on long before the distillery opened.
Sitting at the small table, Mindy looked at the bulging, rippling muscles of her landlord and felt her nipples harden, her pussy moisten. George Malancon might be nearly twice her age, but George was a sexy man.
“And Wagon Wheel Day Care’s right down the road,” George said, trying, unsuccessfully not to stare at Mindy’s hard nipples.
“Well, soon as I can, going back to work for PC Nation,” Mindy said.
“Tell you what. Can take Charlene to Wagon Wheel Monday through Friday, pick them up if that makes going back easier,” George offered.
“How much that is?” Mindy asked.
“They’re pretty reasonable; one sixty a week,” George said.
“One sixty, and I’m paying seventy five here,” Mindy tried to do the math in her head.
“How much Clarence paying?” George asked.
“Him?” Mindy spat angrily. “He ain’t paying nothing.”
“Uh, bull shit too,” George said. “Boy’s that girl’s daddy? Needs be kicking in something.”
After breakfast, George said he could keep an eye on the sleeping Charlene while Mindy had a shower, got ready for the Sunday ahead.
“I mean, I’ve got nothing do until ten thirty anyway,” George offered.
“Why? What happening at ten thirty?” Mindy asked.
“The pre-game show starts,” George said. “I mean, I know, it’s only pre-season, but you know?”
“Oh. Football,” Mindy said, making a face.
“Yes, football. There’s a television set in your room,” George said.
In her room, Mindy went through her meager selection. She finally decided on a pair of shorts and a snug top. The khaki shorts had a cuff that had a bad habit of curling up, revealing her backside.
She didn’t dawdle long in the shower, not as long as she would like. At Mrs. Duvalier’s home, Mindy had taken to bringing Charlene into the bathroom with her. If she did not, Mrs. Duvalier would complain bitterly that Charlene had wailed nonstop the entire time Mindy had been in the shower.
Mrs. Duvalier also complained about how long Mindy took, even though Mindy would shower as quickly as she could.
But here, she could relax a little, take a little more time. So, Mindy did take the time to drag a razor over her legs. She didn’t tarry too long, though. She hurriedly rinsed off, then applied a light layer of lotion to her skin.
“She a good girl while I was gone?” Mindy asked as she scampered back to the living room.
“Didn’t make a peep,” George said.
Buttocks pointed right at George, Mindy bent over the playpen’s rail, checked on the sleeping girl. As expected, the cuffed hem of her shorts rolled up.
“Damn,” George muttered, feeling his cock swell to full hardness.
“Quit,” Mindy giggled, straightening up again.
Again, she dug her finger under the leg opening, pulled the material from her butt crack.
“It’s too big,” she said.
“You crazy too; ain’t too big,” George stated.
“You go on take you your shower now,” Mindy offered, plopping down on the couch.
Her eyes nearly goggled when George got to his feet. The front of his sweat pants was tented, and unless that was an optical illusion, he had to be twice the size of Clarence.
Clarence Guidry had grabbed his slender four inch cock, bragged to Mindy about how big his cock was. To prove his point, he had jammed himself into Mindy’s mouth, causing her to gag.
Clarence must have been big; he hurt Mindy quite a bit when he ruptured her hymen. Even though she had managed to coax a load of his semen with her mouth, Clarence was still quite quick to ejaculate into Mindy’s dry pussy.
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