Gloria accelerated dangerously out of the bend, slamming the gearstick of her Mercedes convertible and pushing the sole of her expensive high heeled shoe hard on the pedal. She was a beautiful woman (an olive skinned, busty, curvy, long haired brunette in her mid-thirties) but when her Latino, Mexican temper took over that beauty swiftly twisted her face into a snarling scowl such as she wore now. Her driving that afternoon was like her temper, wild, erratic and dangerous and likely to get herself into big trouble. But Gloria didn't care, she was furious. Livid. Her precious son Manny was being bullied at school and she would sort this out this very afternoon and there was nothing, not a single thing that would prevent her.
She knew roughly where she was headed, a trailer park a few miles away from the luxury home she lived in with her rich older American husband Johnny and her son from her first marriage in Mexico, Manny. As she got closer and the surroundings got more run down and so obviously poorer she slowed the car somewhat and checked on her mobile phone exactly where she need to turn off and in the process nearly ran down an elderly couple. They cursed at her driving and were treated to a middle fingered saluted from the hot headed mother -- she had bigger things to worry about that some doddering old fool pedestrians!
She was into the really trashy part of town now, clothes lines were hanging in front yards, dirty children were running about, dogs barked angrily and envious eyes glared at the gleaming red sports car in their midst and the flashily dressed, heavily made up woman who drove it. She stopped in the middle of the track and checked her phone again, ignoring the car behind angrily beeping it's horn at her before she turned left and set off again, oblivious to the shaken fist and angry remonstrations behind her.
It was a stiflingly hot sultry late Florida afternoon and the sweltering heat assailed Gloria as she slammed her car door shut and stormed up the path with the battered old mailbox marked Rawlings standing at an unhealthy angle at the end of it.
In the trailer Miley Rawlings looked out through the faded blinds and smirked as the stunning, brown skinned older woman, dressed in a tight, form fitting red top that showed masses of cleavage and a short black skirt. This clearly was Mrs .Milton and just as Miley's brother Brock had suggested she looked mad as all hell, the skinny, pale skinned, short haired blonde girl gave her brother a quick call then braced herself for the noise.
It came seconds later in the form of thunderous knocking and bashing of the door to the trailer. Miley smiled to herself and moved to the fridge and poured herself a drink, letting the older woman wait a while longer (which she spent angrily bashing at the door and spouting inaudible threats and curses), took a long sip of it then braced herself and slowly opened the door. Gloria stormed in and stood in the trailer looking round angrily almost ignoring the girl that had admitted her.
"Where is he? Where is that no good coward?"
In the face of such fiery aggression Miley remained unnaturally calm. She took a long, slow sip of the drink in her hand and looked the older woman up and down, stopping long enough to admire the magnificent cleavage on show. It seemed to unnerve Gloria enough to halt her rant - for now.
When she spoke Miley did so in a slow, drawn out deep South drawl that at once was difficult to follow, so Gloria had to pay special attention to the girls garish bright red lips and that was strangely hypnotic.
"Ah guess you want Brock, mah lil brother. What's the asshole done now?"
Gloria was completely thrown, she had stormed in here expecting to have a flaming row with the thug that had been giving her darling boy a hard time and now she was faced with this perfectly reasonable, skinny but strangely attractive blonde who seemed to find this all very amusing. Recovering a modicum of her initial righteousness but not her anger Gloria expounded.
"He has been bullying my Manny! He has been stealing his things, beating him up, calling him names!"
"They in the same class Honey?"
"Yes!"
"So they are both 18 then?"
"Yes, so what? Many is a delicate boy, sometime I need to stand up for him."
This was a lie, it wasn't sometimes, it was everytime. Gloria had fought Manny's corner since the day he was born, she had fallen out with other mothers and kids throughout his school years and though she did not realise it was the real reason Manny was so weak and pathetic most of the time.
"Oh sure Honey, I get that, gotta look after family. Anyway Brock ain't here just now, sure he won't be long. Why don't I pour you a nice, cool drink and the two of us can talk like until he's here?"
In that hot, sticky, humid trailer with only a fan stuttering to produce a breeze a cool drink did sound good. Real good. So she agreed and could not help ogling the slim blonde's tight arse in the torn denim shorts as she bent over in front of her to get the bottle from the fridge. Miley glanced over her shoulder and caught the older woman staring and smiled and asked.
"Like what you see?"
Gloria looked away sharply, embarrassed for one of the few occasions in her life. She was a hot blooded Latino but that wasn't just in the temper stakes, it was in sexual stakes too and she was often too much for her older husband to handle and getting a little turned on at a woman was nothing new to her. That this was such a young woman (she could be her mother for God's sake!) and such a thin, white blonde one at that was unusual though. Not her type at all!
Gloria looking everywhere but at Miley's tight ass and only then noticed some of the items lying around the shambolic trailer. A pair of pink fluffy handcuffs, a couple of porno magazines, a discarded set of red panties and on the top of the bed through a thin door she could just make out a double ended dildo. She was still peering at it when she had the glass thrust under her nose. The time spent looking away from Miley had allowed Miley to slip a little something extra in Gloria's drink that would loosen her morals up a little further. Nothing illegal just something folks took around the park to make things more fun.
Gloria sat on a threadbare couch, Miley sat opposite her and leaned back, opened her legs and allowed the older brunette a good view of her milky white thighs and the trails of denim tumbling at her crotch and the promise of what looked like no underwear. Gloria could not help but look. She took a big drink and tried to focus on why she had come here. Tried to make small talk.
"So, do you parents live here too?"
"Naw, Ma ran off with a black man when me and Brock were just kids. Daddy's in prison, some rich bitch wanted a little rough, you know what I mean? Daddy and his pals gave her what she wanted over the pool table down the Ol' Rustler's Bar only after she changed her mind about whether she wanted it and they each got 10 years. Fucking whore!"
