Jim was sitting in a sun chair beneath the meager shade that his awning provided. As the long-time manager of the trailer park where he resided, Jim was afforded a few perks, the most significant of which being a moderate-sized trailer home to live in. Being the manager of a trailer park was—as Jim had no qualms complaining to anyone who would listen—an often thankless job. Taking another swig of liquor from his flask, Jim considered the root cause of one of his most recent and pressing problems. Many of the park's residents had been born there, had children there, and would likely die there. As such, there was no shortage of children born inside the community.
While a trailer park is certainly not an ideal location to raise children, Jim's current dilemma arose from the fact that many of these children were now going through puberty, and had learned a bit too much from their mothers about the ways of the world. Most of the older girls had taken to teasing Jim by walking past his trailer in particularly skimpy attire, among other improper conduct. Jim wouldn't have minded their behavior if they had been a few years older, but even he got uncomfortable when a thirteen-year-old flashed him her still developing chest. To make matters worse, a few of the boldest teens had started to try and get things from Jim in exchange for glimpses of their bodies. He refused of course, but there's only so much of a teen's antics a man can take before he gets fed up with her.
"Valerie, I told you to put some fucking clothes on! Do you want to end up like your mother, giving five dollar blowjobs to any shitbird that flashes a little green?"
Valerie laughed at Jim's angry words, taking a step closer, so she was almost leaning on the arm of the flimsy plastic chair. "C'mon, Jim, just one bottle, then you can feel them up for a full thirty seconds. That's a crazy good deal, where else do you think you can get fourteen-year-old titties in exchange for some vodka?"
"I'm not a fucking pedophile, Valerie, and what did I tell you about calling me Jim? You should have some respect for your elder—" Jim froze mid-sentence at the feeling of small hands grasping his shoulders from behind. "Alyssa, is that you grabbing my back?" he growled, turning in his chair to see the younger girl giving him a shit-eating grin.
"It's like Valerie said, this is a suuper good deal, and I'll make it even better: one bottle of vodka to feel up both of us! Look, mine have started to grow in a bit more, they're big enough to see through my top now," Alyssa said, patting her damp chest to illustrate her point. The summer heat only made things more difficult on Jim, as the girls' white t-shirts were sticking to their skin, and the pair's intentional decision to forgo bras made it impossible to hide the perky pink tips that were covered by only a single layer of thin fabric.
"I don't even have enough booze for myself, much less a couple of wannabe whores. Now go on, get out of here before I tell your fathers what you've been up to." Sitting back in his chair as he finished his declaration, Jim felt pretty proud of himself—both for resisting the girls' charms and for protecting his booze. This feeling lasted all of ten seconds, where it was shattered by the two girls bolting toward his trailer and running through its open door. "Get back here you brats, that's my booze!" he yelled, jumping from his chair in hot pursuit. What he found upon entering his trailer was not the expected mess from two teens ransacking the place for alcohol—no, it was the sight of two delicious young girls sitting on his couch, their innocent little smiles only accentuating Jim's shocking discovery—Valerie and Alyssa were topless.
Trying to hide his disbelief at the situation he found himself in, Jim fixed his eyes on the ground, speaking after a full thirty seconds of collecting his thoughts. "You two girls better put your shirts back on and get the fuck out of my trailer, this instant!" If Jim's tone was more forceful than intended, it was only because of how difficult he was finding it to keep his eyes from making their way to the soft curves laid bare before him.
Valerie let out a little yawn at his demand, arching her back and jutting out her chest before responding. "Now, Jim, why don't you take a quick peek while I repeat that offer from before? Gimme that vodka you have hidden in the cabinet over there, and you can touch our breasts for a little while..." At her words, Jim's eyes flicked up for a moment, drinking in the sight of four underage breasts, before quickly returning to staring at the carpet. Just this glance was enough, though; with it, Valerie knew she had won.
Well, Jim reasoned, they were going to get their booze one way or another, so it might as well be from him instead of getting raped by some sicko for it. "Fine, but I'm not giving you the whole bottle, we'll do shots; and don't think I want to touch those tiny little things you call tits either, I'm no child molester." Smiling at Jim's anger, Alyssa said something to her friend that caused them both to laugh, and made Jim scowl to himself as he poured three shots of the coveted beverage.
***
After countless shots each, the two young girls were a giggling mess on Jim's couch, and Jim himself found his eyes drawn more and more to their exposed little bodies.