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The Trashy Virgin

By:Cassandra Dee

The Trashy Virgin
Cassandra Dee

~A Ménage Romance~


For all the trashy girls out there  …

Hey, nuttin' wrong with that!



Please don't think I'm trashy.

Please don't judge me.

I live in a trailer park, but life is so much more complicated than  that. Because things happen unexpectedly and my story is one for the  ages, I admit.

It started when I moved into Brent Larson's home, my own having no heat or electricity.

"Hey," I murmured as Brent strode in the door after work one day. I  stood at the sink, finishing up some dishes, and it was all very homey,  very comfortable. Besides, I could tell the big man was tired. I could  see it in his eyes, the faint lines of weariness bracketing his deep  blue gaze, the deep breaths as his wide chest inhaled. But he never  failed to shoot a smile my way.

"Hey there baby," he said with a lazy grin, putting his lunchbox on the  table. Brent was an ironworker with the local union    and had the  body to prove it, all sculpted muscle, tall, thick and perfectly  proportioned. "How's your day been, little girl?"

I melted a little inside although I tried not to show it. I could  literally smell him in the kitchen, the clean scent of honest sweat, all  man, musky and tantalizing, and it made my insides tremble, my interior  drip.

"Not bad," I whispered, then cleared my throat awkwardly. "Not bad," I  said a little louder, trying to act normal despite the fact that my  cheeks were flushing pink. Oh god, how could this be happening? This was  my guardian for crying out loud, the man who'd looked over me for the  last year, giving me a place to live. And yet here I was creaming a  little, blushing in his presence.

But my life has been crazy lately, so maybe all the excitement put me  over the edge. Because, you see, I have an insane mom. And I don't mean  it as a figure of speech, I mean it in the medical sense. We live in a  trailer park, the mobile homes so close to one another that everyone  knows everyone else's business. And my mom, Tina, is pretty hard to  miss. She's been a mess for as long as I can remember, sobbing  uncontrollably at nothing, keeping pet rabbits in our home despite the  fact that we had about one hundred and fifty square feet between the two  of us, not brushing her hair so that it stuck straight up, her make-up  garish like a clown.

So yeah, it was pretty obvious that I was in a shaky family situation  with no supervision. And after a couple years of Tina's hysterical  outbreaks, Brent finally stepped in, my savior, my safety net. My mom  had a really bad outburst where ambulances came screaming, a load of  paramedics descending on the hysterically crying woman, literally  strapping her to the gurney before shipping her off. It happened so fast  that I didn't know what to think, pure numbness creeping over my mind.  So I was shivering barefoot outside in the cold night air, wearing  nothing but a thin night shirt when Brent Larson came by, taking a long  look at me, his blue eyes sweeping, missing nothing.

"You okay?" he asked gruffly, looking away. I'd felt his gaze trail over  my curves before glancing away guiltily, like he wasn't supposed to be  sizing up a teen girl.

But I couldn't absorb it at the time. I was too stunned, shocked by the  turn of events and completely mute. On the one hand, Tina's breakdown  wasn't exactly new, we'd been to this rodeo before. It's just that this  time the paramedics told me she wouldn't be back, Tina needed to be put  under long-term observation, so I was shocked, paralyzed, unsure of my  next move. God knows I could take care of myself, but at the same time,  things had reached titanic proportions and my mom needed serious  professional help.

So I said nothing, staring back at him, brown eyes wide.

Brent cleared his throat again.

"Listen, why don't you come over to my place?" he asked gruffly, still  not meeting my eyes. "I've got heat and hot water, it's a place to crash  for the night."

And after a pause, I nodded silently, trailing him with slow steps  across the park to his mobile home. Because yeah, our trailer was cold,  dark and freezing, my mom was behind on the bills, her monthly  disability check hadn't come yet. We still had running water, thank god,  but the nights were bitter and I wasn't looking forward to another  sleepless one huddled under a pile of blankets, shivering so hard that  my teeth chattered, goose bumps that never went away.

So Brent's offer was a godsend, manna from heaven. If nothing else, I  could at least be warm for once, sleep as well as I could before the  shit really hit the fan and I had to figure something out.

And when the door to Brent's double-wide opened, it was like stepping  into the Garden of Eden, the warmth and welcoming air immediately  soothing my nerves. Because Brent's trailer was nice, really nice. The  ORV Blackstone was immaculate and spacious with a living room, dining  nook, kitchen, and three bedrooms. But as I sat tentatively, crossing my  legs, one of the bedroom doors opened and a gangly teen boy peered out,  surprising me. His head almost brushed the ceiling, he was that tall,  lanky and gangly like a baby giraffe.         



"Oh hi," I said faintly. "I'm Katy." I was wearing nothing but a thin  pink nightshirt for this midnight introduction, but then on the other  hand, I was so stunned from events that it barely registered. Besides, I  didn't think Brent had a son, so who was this boy?

The teen eyed me warily as well.

"I'm Jason," he grunted, looking me over before nodding at Brent. "She here to stay?" he asked.

And Brent's low growl answered.

"For now, yes," he replied. "Let's get you settled Katy, we'll talk tomorrow after you've had a good night's rest."

And gratefully, I was ushered into the room at the front of the mobile  home with a tiny, tidy bunk and a nightstand fixed to the wall. The  clean sheets and neat space were a luxury compared to what I was used  to, my mom kept the most unbelievable stuff around until it was gross  and really rank. So I slept like a log in the new environment, and the  next day the boy introduced himself, sort of.

"Yo," he grunted. "You go to Central?"

I nodded, hesitantly pouring myself a mug of coffee in the tight  confines of the kitchen. I wasn't used to being around men in such close  quarters, usually it was just my mom and me. So suddenly caught with  two huge males was startling, and I was unsure, fluttery inside, still  dressed in my pink nightshirt with no shoes.

"Yeah," I murmured. "You?"

He nodded.

"I'm a senior, never seen you before."

And I colored.

"Yeah, um, I've missed a lot of class this year," I said, biting my lip.  It was because I was home, taking care of my mom, but Jason didn't need  to know that.

He cast an eye over my form appraisingly, and I went hot again. Oh god, I  was wearing almost nothing and there was both a teen boy and an adult  man in the room. Embarrassed, I crossed my arms over my breasts in an  effort to be modest, snapping my knees shut.

But Brent interrupted my thoughts.

"Katy, why don't you go back and get dressed, pick up whatever you need,  and then Jason will give you a ride to school? I'll be home at six  today, we'll talk then," he growled.

And I nodded.

"Sure," I mumbled, shooting the big man a grateful glance before turning to the boy. "I'll be back in just a second."

"Make it quick," Jason commanded, and anger flared in my chest briefly.  Who was this kid who thought it was okay to order me around? Seriously,  he couldn't have been older than me, not a day over seventeen.

But Brent chuckled, hearing us spar, his low growl filling the air, leaving no doubt as to who was boss.

"Kids," he drawled, "let's play nice."

And that was my first introduction to my new living situation because I  never moved back into my mom's trailer. Heck, it's still sitting empty  and dark, my mom's been in the hospital for a year now and I swear the  management office is going to do something, when they get around to it.

So yeah, it's been a year now, and I've settled into a routine with  Jason and Brent. Every day, my new "brother" and I head off to Central  High for our senior years of high school, driving across the tracks to a  fancy school with a couple of slots for poor kids like us. And every  day, Brent goes off to work with the union   , there's a lot of  demand for steelworkers with all the construction nearby, so he's got a  steady, stable job and as far as I know, has never been late with bills.

But Jason isn't Brent's son or stepson or any relation whatsoever.  Jason's another stray that Brent pseudo-adopted, offering him a place to  live because his own home situation was so messed up. I'm not even sure  what Jason's family history is, I just know that he won't talk about  it, he clams up and ignores me, so Brent's urged me to be patient, give  him time to relax. And I respect that. After all, I try to avoid any  discussion of Tina except that with my mom, everyone knows, her  hysterics were impossible to miss.