Page 17 of The Trailer Park Twink

It’s been a day and a half since we got the tattoos, and my ass is still sore.

When we got home the next morning, Shelly was gone, and we ain’t seen her since.

Nothing new, honestly. She’s probably out sourcing meth.

Or dead in a ditch. At this point it could be either.

While I don’t wish her dead, I can’t deny how peaceful it is when it’s just Aussie and me.

I mean, I know she ain’t dead, because she’s been uploading right-wing propaganda posts on Facebook the entire time she’s been gone, but still.

Shouldn’t I care more about her safety? I did once.

I used to get so goddamn terrified every time she’ d go on a bender, leaving Aussie and me alone for weeks at a time.

I would drive around the bad part of town where the tweakers tend to congregate, asking around about her.

It wasn’t my smartest move, and I got mugged four times before I finally gave up.

One time I got pistol whipped. She didn’t even care.

She was angrier that I handed over my wallet than worried over the fact I could have died.

Aussie cared, though. God. He cared for me in a way no one else ever had. He brought me soup and an icepack. I wasn’t sure why he brought me soup, but my momma always told me, you never look a gift horse in the mouth. So, I sat there, letting him feed me.

I need her to come home, because we need to talk.

We’re supposed to leave for the cabin in the morning, and I still have to find a way of talking her into letting Aussie come.

I’m not leaving him behind. I don’t care anymore.

My boy needs me. He fucking begged me to bring him.

He sobbed into his pillow the night I told him he couldn’t.

After he came in my Fleshlight, and I headed back to bed, Aussie stayed on the couch.

I had to go to the bathroom a few minutes later, and when I cracked the bedroom door open and heard him sobbing in the living room.

I went to sleep with a full bladder because I didn’t want to make him hurt even more than he already was .

I’m glad she ain’t home, because I don’t know how I’m going to explain the tattoo.

Fuck, she’s going to be pissed, but the worst part is, I don’t give a fuck.

I’d do it again, because we’re branded now.

Him and me. Me and him. We’ve each got the other on our asses, with a big star and an initial.

A giant A on my ass, leaving no room for interpretation.

She’ll know it’s for him the second she sees it.

There’s a knock on my door, and since I ain’t got out of bed yet, I just roll on my side and pretend to be asleep.

I know Aussie snuck in earlier, waking me in the process.

Just like now, I pretended to feign sleep.

At first, I wasn’t sure what he was doing, then he opened the wall safe, just like I said he could.

My son was horny earlier, and he needed to shoot his load into our shared Fleshlight.

Now, he’s bringing it back, and my cock is aching at the thought.

I’ve been feeling a whole lot of feelings I don’t know how to compartmentalize, so I’ve been pushing them down, out of sight and out of mind.

The lock on the safe clicks, and the bed dips as Aussie crawls in behind me. “Daddy?”

Fuck. If I roll over, he’s going to see the tent beneath the blanket. Why does that make my cock stand even taller, like it’s fucking begging to be seen?

I roll over, blinking a few times, trying to look like I’m just waking up. Aussie’s eyes immediately spot the tent, and a smile forms on his face .

“Good morning, baby,” I say, pulling his focus back to my face. He’s all dressed up, which makes my heart sink, because it’s Sunday, and we always spend Sundays together. “Where are you going?”

He stares at my lips, licking his own, but then his eyes flicker up to look at me.

“I have practice with the boys. We’ve got that show at the all-queer prison unit next month.

” He sighs. “Wish I could just quit the stupid group. Then I could stay here with you all day. Cuddle up and watch television or . . .”

“Or what?” I ask, but something in his eyes tells me I don’t want to know the answer.

“I . . . I told my fans about your party trick.”

My eyes bulge. How the fuck does he know about my party trick? Did someone mention it at Bubba’s? I mean, they must have. More importantly, why the hell is he telling his fans about it?

“You did what?” I ask, unable to mask my shock.

“You told me I could,” he argues. “At Bubba’s, you said you were going to let me see.”

I swallow. “I did not.”

He quickly shakes his head. “See, I knew you would pull something like this.” He pulls out his phone, and my heart flutters when I see he’s got the picture of our matching tattoos as his phone background.

Fuck. Seeing them side by side, witnessing the stark contrast of his creamy white skin and my olive complexion.

The way his flesh looks like porcelain, not a hair to be seen, while my ass is covered in fur.

My butt is on his phone screen, and there’s a small voice inside telling me it’s where it belongs.

He pulls up a video of us on Bubba’s couch, cuddling. I ain’t got a shirt on in the video, and I’ve got him pulled right against my chest. Jesus Christ. We look like a couple. I swallow, because . . . Aussie?

“Did you mean it?” Aussie asks me in the video. “About letting me see it?”

I look like I’m ready to pass out at any moment, drunk off my ass.

“Wanna show you,” I tell the camera, smiling sleepily.

“Gonna show you really good, buddy. Gonna show all your fans.” To my horror, the video vixen masquerading as me slides down the blanket and pulls out a half-hard cock.

“Gonna let them all see this cock so they know.”

“So they know what?” Aussie asks, and his voice is shaking like he’s scared, but there’s something that sounds a lot like hope in there too. Then I give it a gentle stroke.

“Look how thick it is. Do you think any of your fans have one this big?”

“Daddy,” he whispers, his voice wrecked and rocked with emotion.

“You want to see me suck myself? Want me to show you how to make this dick feel good, buddy? ”

I tear my eyes away from the phone and stare at my boy. He’s looking at his screen like he’s trying his best not to blatantly stroke himself at the sight. My dick is on his camera.

“See?” he whispers to me. “You said you would show them. You said you’d show me.”

I’m feeling more than a little overwhelmed, because this is my son. My fucking boy. He ain’t supposed to be looking at my cock this way. Not like he wants to dive down and swallow it to the base.

“Aussie,” I attempt, but then I can’t think of anything else to say. He’s right. I promised I would let him see my trick. I promised I’d let his fans see, even if it’s just to let them know why they can never have him. To prove why they’d be fools to even try. “Baby.”

“You promised.”

My jaw trembles with nerves, and I open and close my mouth a few times to tell him no, but in the end, I reluctantly nod. “Okay. You’re right. I gave you my word, and I won’t go back on it.”

“You mean it?”

I nod. “I can show you tonight. I just . . . I’m scared.” Scared of showing him my cock again. Scared of taking the head between my lips and prove I’m probably just as talented a cocksucker as him. Scared of what this might do to our relationship, because I would fucking die if I lost him .

“I love you,” he tells me, and I know he does. I know how much he loves me, because I love him just as much. I just don’t know how far that love extends.

“I love you too, baby.”

The second he’s out the front door, I’m out of bed, my cock standing at full attention, guiding me forward. I grab the Fleshlight from the safe and toss it onto the bed. Next, I grab my phone from the nightstand and my bottle of lube from the top shelf of my closet.

When I climb back into bed, I unlock my phone and bring up my tried-and-true stroke material.

A video of a woman riding a dildo on the kitchen floor.

Her perky tits are bouncing each time she rises and falls.

She’s fucking dripping, but the longer I look at her pussy gripping the toy, the more momentum I lose.

My regular spank material ain’t working, so I close the video and groan.

The second I close the video, my eyes widen, because I keep forgetting I changed my phone background too.

In the picture, Aussie and I are next to each other on Bubba’s couch.

We must’ve taken it before we lay down, because we’ve both got drinks in our hands, and I’m staring at my boy like he’s the center of my universe.

My cock swells again.

Fuck .

I don’t want to think about this. I don’t want to give it a name, because it’s disgraceful.

His fucking father, thinking about . . .

I don’t want to remember how good it felt to hold him as he came undone in my arms. I don’t want to remember the sight of his leaking cock in the bathroom.

I really, really don’t want to think about how fucking right it felt to hold him as he slept.

I’m not gay. I’ve never been gay. I’ve never looked at another man, and I’ve certainly never looked at Aussie this way.

I mean, yeah, he’s attractive, but I’ve never gotten hard just by seeing him that way.

It’s like the moment I saw his erection for the first time, something snapped inside me.

Like I’ve lived my life with a tourniquet, and someone finally removed it, and now all these new, confusing feelings are pouring out of the wound created by the sight of his cock.

I shouldn’t. I know I shouldn’t. Aussie ain’t home, so there ain’t no way he’s online right now. He ain’t in his room, stroking his cock for strangers. That don’t stop me from pulling up his OnlyFans anyway.