Huddled under the covers of her modest twin bed, Lana Templeton couldn't help but stare a hole in the alarm clock on the stand to her left.
"Two- Fucking- Fourteen in the morning," she grumbled bitterly as the telltale sounds seeped into her bedroom from up the hall.
"I have to listen to this in my own Goddamn trailer," the 47 year old woman spat at the ceiling, using every bit of grit and civility in her being to keep from storming up and killing the two lovers as the rhythmic squeaks of her living room sofa strained under the weight of the fornicating pair.
"The Son-of-a-Bitch can have her and she can have him," Lana seethed, unable to keep the mental image of her Daughter fucking her live-in Boyfriend out of her mind.
Forty-Seven years worth of hard living, hard drinking and hard drugs had steeled the twice divorced Mother of three for pretty much anything life had to offer. With her oldest Daughter long up and moved out after getting knocked up by a Marine and her only Son sitting in a Minnesota prison for the next seven years on grand larceny and weapons charges, Lana's only hope for a decent relationship with her offspring was with her youngest Daughter, 19 year old Angie.
Lacking in the parenting skills department however, partly due to her own shattered childhood as well as her own adult dependency and indifference, Lana didn't do a very good job raising any of her kids. Butting heads with Angie from the moment the girl hit puberty, the teenager was passed like a hot potato between Lana and the girl's Father in Fargo until he found a new wife and kicked Angie back to Lana for good several years earlier.
And for a while things seemed to be OK.
One of the sad by-products however of living such dysfunctional lives is the need for drama is always constant.
Even though Lana had done everything she could to kick her chemical dependencies, she still had a hard time saying 'no' to a down on his luck man with a twinkle in his eye. And to a woman who had been through as much as Lana, finding any semblance of a normal and nurturing relationship was next to impossible. Even if she had found a man who treated her like a Goddess, she would have been ill-equipped to deal with that. So even though Lana had done her best to keep the Crystal Meth, Pot and Bottle in her past, her taste in men continued to leave a lot to be desired, and continued to burden her days and nights.
Which would explain why her boyfriend at the moment, a 44 year old man by the name of Pervis Tucker, was 30 feet down the hall, nailing her own Daughter on the living room sofa.
"I could be dating a stockbroker or a preacher and he'd be doing the exact same thing," Lana rightly reasoned, but deep down she knew when she coupled with a man like Pervis, who was three months removed from a five year prison stay of his own, she couldn't expect too much from him, and in return, he didn't have to expect anything at all from her.
Having met Pervis through the friend of a friend, like two parasites in need of a host, they instantly found themselves in each other's arms. Lana being the one with the job and the trailer, she eventually invited Pervis to move in with her and Angie. And now she didn't have the backbone to make him leave.
Her anger pickling inside of her as she was forced to listen to the indignity of the two fucking in the other room, Lana swore on her Grandmother's grave she would rip each of their beating hearts from their chests if it continued.
Lana knew the affair, if that's what you could call it, had been going on for at least a couple of weeks. From the stained clothing she found strewn across the floor on occasion to the discernable tension she felt between Pervis and Angie when the three were in the same room, it didn't take Lana long to figure out what has going on. For a while at least, Angie and Pervis only fooled around while Lana was at work or away from the trailer. Now the two were actually banging each other while they thought she was asleep in the bedroom.
For whatever reason, Lana couldn't bring herself to be as angry at Angie. She had long given up any hope for the girl and with no expectations, come no disappointments. It was clear now Angie was just as much Lana's rival as her child. Lana had been Angie's age once and in a lot of ways had been put in many similar situations and she knew how a girl with little self esteem or ambition could easily fall for an older man offering a little money, some drugs or affection.
Being angry at Pervis, on the other hand, was another matter entirely.
Clean and sober for the first time since she was 13, Lana had made a serious commitment to making the second half of her life better than the first. And part of that commitment was trying to help others have a better life as well. That attempt at trying to deliver saving grace with a person like Pervis Tucker would prove to be a waste of time, energy and effort. Just as quickly as she had put a roof over his head and food in his belly, he had stopped any sexual contact with her and was now eagerly plowing her Daughter every chance he got.
Listening with horrid and sick helplessness as the sounds of Pervis and Angie's bodies colliding filtered back to the bedroom, Lana steeled herself, trying to maintain the same level of anger in her soul when Pervis finally finished what he was doing in the living room and came to bed.
"I'm gonna kick the shit out of him and then I'm gonna cut his dick off," Lana swore, grinding her teeth roughly when she heard Pervis groan out his release from up the hall.
"Quiet...Mom will hear us," Lana was sure she could hear her Daughter gasp as Pervis shot his cum deep inside her 19 year old cunt.
"Too late for that you little ungrateful Bitch," Lana bristled to herself before rolling over to her side, with her back facing the door, to pretend she was asleep before her drunken and spent boyfriend staggered towards the bedroom.
"You've got to deal with this...somehow Lana...you've got to deal with this," she told herself as Pervis' heavy and disjointed footsteps approached.
* * * * *
Her back turned towards the half closed bedroom door, Lana was thankfully sparred the undignified sight of Pervis walking into the room, clad only in a pair of stained boxers, his half limp, greasy and used cock dangling obscenely from the slit in front.
"The second he lays down...I'm gonna choke the Sonofabitch to death," Lana told herself even though she could feel her resolve trickling away.
And unfortunately, her resolve wasn't the only thing slipping away.
One of the dreadful things Lana had discovered over the years about how her psyche and physiology were intertwined was the way she would become strangely aroused whenever she became angry. While it was masochistic, it was also undeniable. Even though her blood continued to boil over Pervis and Angie's blatant disregard of decency, Lana squirmed anxiously on the bed, unable to ignore the fact that her vagina had gradually turned to a pool of molten froth as she listened to things unfold minutes earlier.
"It's been a month since the Asshole has even touched me...That must have been about the time he started fucking her," Lana lamented, the whole time squeezing her thighs together tightly to quell the shameful glow itching inside of her.
Recoiling her body when she felt Pervis' weight collapse on the bed, Lana's stomach rolled with pitiful self-loathing when she felt her shoulders begin to turn to face her unwitting boyfriend.
"God...you can even smell the whisky on his breath," Lana groaned, cataloging the other unmistakable scent wafting off his body as well, the aroma of freshly completed sex.
"You could kill him right now and be done with it...you'd spend the rest of your life in jail but at least you'd go with a clear conscience," Lana's primal inner voice urged.
