Trailer Trash Teen Hates Rules Ch. 03

"How many spaces do you need Kate?" retorted Breanna.

"There's plenty of room for you," Kate pointed out.

"Yeah, you need all the space you can get with your big tits and your great fat ass," retorted Breanna.

Kate jumped to her feet. "Don't you call me fat!"

"That's what you are," sneered Breanna. "You're fat Kate. You always were fat, and you always will be no matter how much sport you do."

Tears welled in Kate's eyes at the unfair insult, Breanna seeing and laughing. "Are you going to cry about it, Kate?" she taunted.

"No, I am not going to cry about it," Kate stormed. "I have had it with you, Breanna. You are a bitch, you cause problems everywhere you go! Why don't you get lost back to the trailer park where you belong?"

"I would if only to get away from you!" yelled Breanna. "Fuck you Kate!"

"And fuck you too, Breanna!" was Kate's furious response.

The two angry teenage girls began screaming insults and swearing at each other, both red with rage. Bob and Anna, who had been across the road seeing her parents, could hear the fracas out in the street and ran home at speed.

On the telephone, John hastily ended his call to the bemused Samantha who could hear what sounded like a cross between a cat fight and somebody getting killed through the receiver, and pondered if she should call the police. John burst into the living room at the same time as his parents to see his sister and cousin in each other's faces, yelling at each other at the tops of their voices.

It seemed that things would become physical at any second, John stepping forward to attempt to separate them. "Stop it," he ordered, but neither his sister nor cousin seemed to notice him. By contrast, Dylan was happy to sit there and watch the show.

While Breanna generally had no qualms about fighting, she would avoid a fight with an opponent whom she knew would beat her. Kate was much taller, heavier, fitter and physically stronger and a talented field hockey player. If they were to fight, Kate would probably win, so she did not initiate a physical fight.

"Girls!" shouted Anna. "Stop this right now!"

Kate and Breanna kept right on yelling at each other, and his patience exhausted, Bob ran to the kitchen. He took a jug of water from the refrigerator and threw the freezing contents over his daughter and niece. This had an effect, the girls stopping their yelling immediately but stood glaring at each other, both fuming.

"What is going on in here, what is this nonsense?" demanded Bob, looking at his daughter and niece in anger. "We could hear you two across the road, it sounded like a murder was happening. Your language was a disgrace, both of you."

"You should both be ashamed of yourselves, 18-years-old and behaving like that," scolded Anna. "We are going to find out what is going on. Kate, you go first."

"Great, take Kate's side as usual," spat Breanna.

"Breanna!" boomed Bob.

Before Kate, now in tears, could say anything the front doorbell rang, and the dogs began barking. "It's probably the police," said Bob. "We haven't finished discussing this," he warned the two girls.

Anna and Bob answered the door expecting concerned neighbors or indeed even the police at the door, but unless the police receiver had dispatched a squad of four detectives, they were unsure who these strangers were.

On the doorstep stood a tall, elegant, attractive blonde woman smartly dressed in a knee-length skirt and blouse aged in her mid to late 40s, a handsome man about the same age with light brown hair in a shirt and trousers next to her. Behind them were a younger couple probably aged in their early 20s. The handsome young guy with an Italian appearance wore a short-sleeved shirt and jeans over his muscular frame. The girl was an exceptionally pretty blonde, her long, fringed hair cascading down her black blouse with a plunging cleavage, her black mini-skirt barely covering her panties.

The middle aged woman spoke first, her voice having an educated, British accent. "Hello, are you Anna?"

"Yes, I'm Anna," said Anna, unsure who these visitors were.

"We spoke earlier today on the telephone," said the woman, extending her hand to the bemused Anna. "I'm Felicity, and this is my husband Nigel." She indicated the middle aged man beside her.

"Good evening," said Nigel, his voice like his wife's having an educated British accent.

Felicity indicated the younger couple. "These are our friends, Vinnie and Courtney."

"Hi," said Vinnie, his voice a New Jersey accent.

"Hi," said Courtney, her voice also American, high pitched and girlish. She giggled, and indicated Bob. "You must be Bob." She turned back to her boyfriend and the older couple; the handsome middle aged guy with the beard and his slim wife with her dark hair. "He is so good looking, and so is his wife."

"You're right there, Courtney," said Felicity. She looked at Anna. "I've been thinking about you all day, getting excited in my knickers, but now I've seen you, wow. You are something else." Anna felt the woman's eyes moving between her breasts and her crotch.

"Excuse me, but who are you?" demanded Bob.

"Your wife saw our advertisement in the newspaper," said Nigel. "She called my wife today and arranged the evening." He addressed Anna directly. "It's good that you agreed to letting Bob and I hide in the wardrobe and watch you and Felicity together."

"What?" gasped Anna.

"Felicity's good," Vinnie said, pointing at Felicity. "She's showed Courtney and me things we could never have dreamed of."

Courtney approached Bob and run her finger down his shirt. "And I can't wait until I'm sitting on his knee in my school uniform, his hand up my skirt and fondling me inside my panties. They're white cotton panties like you know you want."

"I do not understand what is going on here," said Anna, hands-on-hips.

"You said on the telephone that you and your husband enjoy a swinging lifestyle, and you wanted to meet more couples like us," said Felicity. "It's less common in America than back home in England, so Vinnie and Courtney were quite a find." The younger couple stood looking pleased with themselves.

Bob and Anna looked in despair at each other, then at their uninvited guests. "So, you're swingers?" the disbelieving Bob asked.

"Yes," affirmed Nigel. "Your wife spoke to my wife this morning and arranged everything."

"I'm sorry, but I did no such thing," said Anna firmly.

Looking through the door, Felicity saw John, Kate, Dylan and Breanna. They had heard everything going on outside, and John, Kate and Dylan were completely bemused like their parents. Breanna was delighted at the success of her prank going better than she could imagined, and a quartet of swingers arriving on her aunt and uncle's doorstep. However, she maintained a poker face.

Felicity turned to Bob and Anna, unimpressed. "I don't know why your kids are here. Were you planning to go to a hotel or a motel with us instead?"

"There seems to have been some sort of mistake," said Bob. "My wife and I don't share your lifestyle, and I can assure you that Anna did not contact you."

"I spoke to your wife at about 10 o'clock this morning," asserted Felicity.

"That is not the case," said Anna. "I have never spoken to you, nor your husband nor your friends. I think you may have been the victims of some kind of practical joke."

"So, you don't want to party with us tonight?" asked Vinnie.

"No, we most definitely do not," said Bob.

"We drove all the way from Philadelphia," complained Courtney.

"And I'm sorry for your wasted journey," said Anna. "But could you please leave?"

The two couples turned away, disappointed. "I saw a hotel on the way into town, perhaps we can stop there overnight?" suggested Nigel.

This appeared to rouse the spirits of Felicity, Vinnie and Courtney and they made haste for the car, Dylan's eyes going wide as Felicity put her hand up Courtney's mini-skirt, the older woman fondling the younger woman's panties, and causing her to giggle.

The car reversed away and drove away up the street. The shell-shocked Bob and Anna stared at each other, unable to believe what had just happened. Being married for so many years, Bob and Anna could tell the other's thoughts as to who was the guilty party for this practical joke. Both turned towards the house, and in unison at the tops of their voices, yelled "Breanna!"

END OF CHAPTER 3 - TO BE CONTINUED ...