Editor's Note: this story contains homosexual content.
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I always wondered about my heritage. I mean, I know who my mom is; she's Britney Alma Lott, part time convenience store cashier, part-time whore. What I mean about my heritage is, I don't know who my dad is. Mom says she doesn't have a clue either.
My mom's a little on the short side, just five feet two inches, and I'm kind of short too, only five six even though I'm nineteen years old. So my dad must have been kind of short too. We know he had blond hair because I'm blond, even though my mom's a brunette. We know he was kind of cute because I'm kind of cute and my mom is not.
She's got this brown hair that just doesn't do right, just kind of sticks out all over the place. Her face is plain, just a round face with little brown eyes and a big nose and no chin.
Her shoulders are real narrow and her boobs kind of hang down. Because of her five pregnancies, her gut kind of pooches out and her hips and thighs are kind of wide.
If she looks like that, how did she get knocked up five times? Like my mom always says, when the lights are out, a pretty whore and an ugly whore look the same. I'm not being mean when I call my mom an ugly whore; that's what she calls herself.
When she was pregnant with me and my sister, my mom must have ate a bunch of them chicken nuggets; I seen somewhere in some TV show that they puts a bunch of growth hormones in them chickens to give them extra-large breasts. I don't have extra-large breasts; thank God, since I'm a boy. But I do have an extra-large cock.
I mean, it don't hang down to my knees or nothing. Actually, it's only about six inches long when I'm hard. But it's right at five inches around.
Amy Brenda Lott, my twin sister, she has extra-large boobs. I mean, I don't go around checking Amy out, but she hates wearing a bra, so those boobs are just bouncing and flopping all over whenever she walks around; kind of hard not to notice them. Like I said, Mom must have ate a bunch of them nuggets when she was carrying us.
I'm Aaron Bruce Lott, but everyone calls me Trey. Not because I'm Aaron Bruce Lott the Third, but because I'm Mom's third kid. She said we had an older sister, but she won't ever tell us what happened to our sister.
Like I said, I'm kind of cute, even though I'm only five six and scrawny. But because I don't have a bunch of money, don't even have my own car, and live in a single wide trailer with my Mom and my three sisters and baby brother, none of the girls at my high school will even talk to me.
Amy don't go to school no more; she graduated last year. I didn't; I goofed off a bunch in the eighth grade and had to repeat it. I could have gone to summer school to make it up, but only losers go to school in the summer.
Even though I'm kind of scrawny, kind of short, I don't get picked on a whole lot. My best friend Todd does; he's about the same height as me but is about thirty, forty pounds overweight so gets picked on a lot. Our other friend Brandon gets picked on a lot too, but that's because he's got a shitty attitude. They're both eighteen and they live in the same trailer park as me and Amy and my Mom and Angela and Andrea and Andrew.
Our trailer park is right by this university here in Arkansas so there's a lot of cute guys and hot girls walking around. Some of the guys will talk to me if I'm sitting out front of the trailer. If Amy's sitting outside, they really talk to her a lot. None of the college girls talk to me, though. It's like I'm not even there.
Mom says a lot of the college guys that come into her store talk to her. A lot of them try to pick her up, even though she's not all that cute.
"Guys will fuck anything," my mom says. "Even if they got pay for it."
No, I don't know how much my mom charges. How do you even ask your mom something like that?
Anyway, first time I had sex, I mean, really had sex happened right after my nineteenth birthday. I got a detention because of some stupid shit Brandon did, so missed the bus. I was walking along Prentiss Road, wanting punch Brandon in his stupid head and this car slows down.
"Hey Sweetie, want a ride?" this guy called out.
"Yeah," I said and hurried to get into the car.
The guy got out and I got in. It was an old car, with a big bench front seat and a big bench back seat. But there was all kind of crap in the back seat, so I took the hump while the guy got back in and slammed the door.
"Aw, hey, you a boy?" the passenger asked, now looking at me.
"Hey, Gary, seen anybody else this whole time?" the driver asked and pulled back onto Prentiss.
Couple years back, Zack Bernstein had sued out school over the dress code. He pointed out there was no rules said girls had cut their hair, so why did guys have cut theirs? I think he was in some kind of death metal band or something.
So, my blond hair hangs down to my shoulder blades. Like my mom says, hey, she don't have pay somebody cut my hair. And right now, I had it back in a ponytail, so, from behind, I guess I did look like a girl to this Gary dude.
"Well, no, but, man! A guy?" Gary complained.
"Shit, just close your eyes," the driver said.
"I live up there, right off McClelland," I pointed.
"Got go straight home?" the driver asked.
"I uh, no, I guess not," I agreed.
"Like tequila?" Gary asked me.
"Aw yeah!" I agreed, even though I had never had tequila.
I've had vodka and I've had whiskey. And one time I had rum, but Todd got sick and threw up all over the place, so didn't want to drink any more of that stuff. But I've never had tequila.
We pulled up in front of a trailer in a really run-down looking trailer park. One I live in ain't all that great, but this one was really bad. And this trailer looked ready fall off the cinderblocks.
The driver grabbed a bag from the back and locked the doors of his car. Gary jiggled the knob and opened the door of the trailer.
Inside, it stunk. The whole place smelled like mold. There was a somewhat clean looking towel on the nasty ass couch and I made sure to sit real fast onto that.
"Want it mild, strong, or mildly strong?" the driver asked, pulling a couple of cups out of a bag.
"Strong," I said and both guys smiled.
These guys looked like college guys, maybe a little older. Both were wearing shorts and tank tops and were kind of muscled. Gary was a lot darker than his friend and had real hairy legs. They were both cute, though.
"Here you go, kid, drink up," the driver said, handing me the cup.
I almost spit it out. It tasted horrible and burned all the way down. But I didn't want look like a pussy in front of these guys, so swallowed it.
"Good stuff, huh?" Gary asked, drinking his easily.
"Yeah, I said, voice strangled.
"Hey, kid, how old are you?" the driver asked.
