Visiting nanny of Trailer Town
Story 2

Written by Septia


“Evenin', Tilly.” 
	Tilly's grocery bags rattled as she halted at the call, calming as she saw Bell meet her on the path through the Trailer park. “Oh, Lisa. How'd you do? ‘Fraid to say store's closing up in a few, if that's where you're heading ya might have to put some more coal on the fire.” 
	“Aww, ever so sweet ‘a ya ta worry, I'm just out fer a cozy patrol.” 
	Tilly's eyes trailed down to survey Lisa's… choice of attire: from pants bagging over her shoes, a sloughing hood swathed in a paunchy button-up shirt containing the bulbous layers. 
	“Bit warm for the weather, huh?” 
	“Oh these,” Lisa said with a dismissive wave, “wardrobe an' laundry been throwing a hissy-fit, ‘sides come night-time it still gets chilly.” 
	Tilly nodded, her attention wavering from the plump woman's get-up, chatting about all and nothing. 


Andrew heard the chatter, degrees removed yet not a meter away. 
	“H-hekrfmslp-,” he mumbled into the cloth plastering his face. -Bbwnngs- a juggle from Lisa's torso submerged him further in the canyon of Lisa's bosom. Gallons of boob-flesh bulldozing over his face, encapsulating him in an atmosphere of concentrated feminine musk cultivated through coagulating sweat salt and summer days lacking air-conditioning. -Bbffrrwft- -Gnffrwwt- The raw plumpness ground and brushed into his side as she walked ahead, feeling his legs bend in line with her own, pancaked to her skin by an undergarment thin and taut, with layers of fabric bagging over it, pressuring his form in the mould of her body whilst the tension and heat concentrated under the overlapping layer. The boy panted out for a breath of untainted air, the festering body-odour warping his senses as she strutted along. 
	“Oh Lisa, fine evenin' we got, huh? Just paid my dues to ya mama, put in a good word fer me, heh?” 
	“Sure as sugah, Vira. But ah ain't bout a head back to ‘the fold’ today.” 
	“Lucky.” Vira waved as they passed. 
	Andrew struggled, foraging himself forwards so the outline of his head protruded below Lisa's cleavage, cramming as much as he could under the pinning force of the tense fabric, though still… there was no reaction. 
	Lisa scoffed, cupping her right breast under the coat and rubbing it into Andrew's face. 
	“’Hoss ya'll be fixing yer mama's panties in a twist if ya keep on scrambling. Reckon ya frettin's wasted,” she said and jutted out her chest with a soft -Sflfbrbht- suction of the layers of felt brushing together as her pinned bust gobbled down his face, “mama's got ya safe 'n sound, ain't that so?” she mused, strutting along. A wobbled smile overtaking her face as the path cleared off witnesses, nibbling on her lip whilst her new little boy was shifting and wriggling against her body in her cocoon of humid laundry. 
	Andrew drew a long breath, shaking at the tendrils of musk curling up his nostrils, the scent of burnished onion and salmon leather compromising his senses. Though, he was little more than a ragdoll under all this, and… The further along they walked, the more the boy was forced, or, allowed himself – to see the positives. She wasn't choking him, she was keeping him safe, and despite them currently crushing down on him, Lisa did got some magnificent melons. 


A thick bead of sweat bolstered by my abs, trickling down in the slim space afforded,… and swathed its salt to seep straight into one of the scars on my hip. I sucked in my breath in a sharp inhale as the perspiration fried my scar like hot coals. “MFFnffehhsssftt…” 
	Lisa halted. “Sugah?…?” She patted down my form, feeling out my contours. “You doin' ok in there, lil fellah?” 
	Andrew bit his lip. There was genuine concern judging if the tone held sincerity. 
	“I'm, fine.” Silence followed. Until the layers shifted, the fabric stretching solid as Lisa sat back. 
	“We'll just take a breather then, right sugah?” she cooed, voice flowing smooth, as nectar trailing the fangs of a viper. 
	-Bwwrrxt- -Bwwrxxt-. A faint buzz. 
	Lisa fished out her phone, expression twisting as she saw the screen. “Crud…” 
	“Hh-hmm? What?” 
	“Mama's gotta… gotta…” Lisa's eyes trailed to and fro. “Think ya can handle a bit longah in there? Mama's gotta visit ya new granny.”
	“But, only if ya promise to be a quiet lil mouse. Ma' can be a touch… clingy.” Lisa mused, taking in a deep breath which smushed Andrew together at her bosom, before heading towards the first trailer in the park, the one who'd stood there long enough for branches to sprout and weave over the wheels… the cabin. 


~ 1 ~


“Phaaa…” Belle sighed, tapping a highlighter against the rim of her glasses as she stared down a lake of paperwork, flipping through pages, marking names, amounts, highlighting details, and crossing others out. She leaned back from it all in the comfort of her swivel chair, and jabbed the highlighter back in the pronounced cleavage burgeoning from her crop top, then dipping her palm in deeper, digging around until she fished up a flask. She flicked the cap off with one finger and downed a swig. 
	“Pha… that's mildly better,” she hissed through clasped teeth. 
	A knock at the door disturbed her. 
	“What's it now?” She barked. 
	“Ma?.” 
	Belle's eyebrows mellowed as she tucked the flak back in her chest pocket. “Door's open, darlin'.” 
	“Hi, ma,” Lisa said as she scooched in, “ya wanted to see me?” 
	“Sit down, dear.” Belle instructed, eyes still lingering on the books, though a shadow of a smile dancing on her lips at the sight of her sweet girl. “Ya haven't visited ya dear ol ma for ta couple ao' days.” 
	“Ma, ya gal's all grown up now.” 
	“Shh… shh… lil pumpkin. Maturity doesn't sit in the size of ya tits, ” she said, glancing on her own, sizeable bosom, then back up to compare with Lisa's gratuitous gourds. She scoffed, “Still not big enough to take off ya coat indoors, I see.” 
	“Oh, Ma 's just a lil’ wardrobe hissy-fit, won't be a long visit either.” 
	Belle's smile slimmed. ”Vira was just in here.” 
	“Oh, yeah? I met her on the way. She's gon’ on the straight an’ narrow now, huh?” 
	“Hope not,” Belle mumbled. 
	“Eeh…” 
	“Hmm, ah, you mean Vira? Yeah she's been better, though Tilly's behind,” she mumbled, then adjusted her glasses away from the paperwork. “That's not what I wanna prattle on about, was gonna say Anne's birthday's coming up, was thinking we'd throw together a little…” 
	-Shfhht- -Chghrgst- A stretch and scramble of cloth tumbled in the background, just… barely out of range form perception. 
	Belle paused, and smacked her lips. Staring at her daughter's,… bulbous clothing. 
	“Sweetie…” 
	“Lisa chuckled, shifting her body and crossing her arms over her chest, -CHhgbngs- tucking it back. “Ye ma?”
	“How come your attire's pitching a fit?” 
	“H-huah? What are, ahah, ma' yer's fun, sure ya got the right glasses on,” Lisa half stated, half mumbled as she adjusting her coat and brushed along, fluffing up the baggy folds. 
	Belle stared. 
	Lisa snickered whist shifting back in the seat, “See, nuthing ta-.” -Ppthnng- The top button ricochet off her coat, and from the congested clothing erupted a mop of black hair, Andrew's face sandwiched at the peak of Lisa's bountiful bosom. 
	“Phahaoao. Phaaa, hah…” He gaped out. 
	“Sugah, youf msm, yer couldn't sit still fer a minute? It T'was the one thing ah-…” 
	Belle… Stared… 
	Lisa swallowed back her emotions. 
	The softness on Belle's face had vanished, left were the juggling folds of wrinkles weighing down her eyebrows. “Who'se this?” 
	“He… he's uh… just, mah son…” Lisa meandered. 
	Belle raised a single eyebrow. 
	“Phaha bcaphaa…” Andrew coughed. 
	“Gonna let the poor hoss choke?” 
	Lisa averted her gaze and buttoned up her shirt, peeling back layers of clothing, until Andrew stumbled out of the cocoon, naked, and sprawled on the floor of the trailer. 
	“Bit hefty for a newborn, ain't it?” Belle said. 
	“Ah…” 
	“Lisa,” the air froze, “darlin', I'm a’hamed you thought this'd fool me. Go to your room.” 
	“Ma, I was gonna-.” 
	“Go, now.” 
	Lisa rose, awkwardly stuffed up her clothes, and sauntered out of the trailer.


~ 2 ~


“Come on, hoss,” Belle said, grabbing a hold of Andrew's arm to hoist him up. 
	“Let nana have a look at you.” 
	Andrew stood, still panting heavily, mired in the stench of Lisa's body, whilst the older woman brushed over his cheek, clapped around his chin, and inspected him from end to end. A lock of her silken, white aged hair brushing over his forehead as she went in close. 
	“Skinny lil' thing,” Belle mumbled. “I'm Belle, nanny Belle, ma of the pipsqueak I'm sure you've gotten, close to. Care to tell me ya name?” 
	“I… I'm, Andrew.” 
	“Andrew,” she parroted, sampling his name in the mould of her lips. “Andrew, yes. Of course, shame I wasn't given the chance for a, formal welcomin'.” She stood, and sponsoned the boy as she walked him to the couch at the end of the trailer. 
	“Thirsty?” 
	“V-very.” 
	“Good,” she planted down two tall glasses, one milk, the other water, “I'll whip ya up somethin' fer dinner. Ma lass ain't been good with keeping herself fed.” 
	“T-… thanks.” Andrew chugged down the water, three swigs and the glass was empty, then he worked on the milk. 
	“I'll getcha refill,” she mumbled, and scruffed his hair. She got to chopping onions after filling his glasses, and providing him with two more. 
	“So, care a tell what you've been through?” 
	After another glass, Andrew cleared his lungs. He told her how he'd come to visit far off family, just to wake up in Lisa's house. Though, skimming on some of the details of what she'd done with him. It was… embarrassing to recount. Belle listened close, nodding in reassurance. “Boy, a gotta speak up. When puti'n a pinch.” 
	“Wh-wha?” 
	“With a pillbug like you, it's easy to see how quick ya'd cave and roll up for anyone with a touch a’ authority. We can't blame this all on ma’ brat, if you sat back and savoured her body, can we?” Belle laid out, brushing down his shoulder, and holding up yet another glass. “Drink.” 
	He did. Mulling over what she'd said. Questioning himself, on just how much he had enjoyed it. He found her staring at him. At his thigh, where a sliver of scarlet pulses from the agitated salt. After seeing the first, it was clear that she picked up on the others… while faint, they striped down his legs, in crossing patterns. 
	“My lass, did that, to you?” She spoke with a voice of molten lead, smooth, steaming, deadly. 
	“W-what? Oh… These, th-they aren't her fault.” 
	“Hoss, if ma brat's hurt you-.” 
	“J-just trust me.” 
	“Mmm,” she mulled it over. Then turned back to the kitchenette. “There’s this salve that should fix ya up, in the bathroom cabinet. Jump in the shower first, skin gotta be clean, plus, ya smell like my brat's pits, lil’ fellah.” 
	Andrew finished his seventh, or… ninth? Glass, and shuddered standing. “Th-thans.” 


~ 3 ~


The veil of water and steam cleansed the imprint of Lisa's musky form Andrew's body. A moment to breathe, to relax, to think… Wondering how long Lisa would have kept him a secret if Belle hadn't cotton on. There was a wave of relief. Yet… he felt a twitch of stiffness at his crotch. How bad would it really have been? He shook off the thought, and, turned off the water. 
	-Pthnddk- the door slammed open. 
	“Young man…” 
	“M-miss Belle?” 
	“You haven't even gotten started, have you?” 
	“W-wha-. B-but I, I actually just finished.” 
	“That bull ain't gonna stick, darlin',” she said. And peeled off her crop top. -Bbgnwngns- A pair of perky, plump milk jugs jostled free, smooth and luscious boobs, painting fluster over Andrew's cheeks. Belle scaled off the rest of her clothes, the naked giant imposing herself onto him in the shower, cutting off his escape. 
	“Really now…” She hummed as the water was turned on again, bathing them in lukewarm steam. “You still look like quite the filthy lil' boy from here.” She poured up soap, and scrubbed it down his frame, taking greater care when she passed over his thighs, and suds formed around, the marks. 
	“I won't be hard on her, if that's yeer worry. Bear it, won’t you? These need to be clean for the salve. You can tell me what that brat did.” 
	“She didn't… do that…” 
	“Darling… these don't just show up, I've got half a mind to-.” 
	“They're from my parents.” This, reached her. “Things haven't been, well… it’s part of why, I travelled here,” he continued.
	“Pardon, hun,” she said as she leaned in to his back, chest buffering up over his shoulders, drooping in against his cheeks. She embraced him as streams trickled down between their forms. 
	“I can fix you up, tend to those ails, “I'm positive, there'll be ways ta pay back mah hospitality. If you'd accept this ol' nana's aid?” 
	Andrew shuddered. The warmth of her on his back, the weight of her chest… It reminded him of being stuck on Lisa, but it felt… comfortable… 
	A twist of tension snagged at his crotch, Andrew reeled out of his haze, looking down. He saw Belle's fingers wrapped around his dick, his throbbing, aching dick… and it only swelled as she began to trail her hand along it. “Mfmns, fmsmh phaa…” Andrew huffed out in pleasure. 
	“I'll take that as a yes, then?” She stated, bunching up to him tight, hunched so her bosom welled around his throat, pumping her hand along his cock. “I'll reckon that's a yes, darlin'? Got yourself a fat dick dont'cha? Mah lil brat' can be a bother, but she's got a good eye for cock-meat. 
	Tension wracked through Andrew's spine, lungs choked back by the sudden flood of desire welling up through him. 
	“Ah… aha…” 
	“Shhh…” Belle hummed, pinching at the tip of his shaft before massaging down his length, he felt her rest her cheek against his head, as she played his dick like a violin. And in the pitter-patter of the shower, her voice melted with the soothing velvet river of humidity. “Sweet darlin', I feel how ma’ daughter’s been rough with you- You are a strong boy to endure her, but I feel how sensitive you are… you need to be treated with care… in the hands of someone with… experience,” she mused, and smooched his forehead, “Allow me… give in, relax, my sweet lil' grandson…” 
	Andrew's breath picked up as his body drowned in the velvet of her voice, inhaling through his teeth as the pleasure built, surging through his frame to the practised throbs and jerks of her digits… Maybe… he'd just, been through a lot lately… but… he craved this relief… lost in the drooping plushness of her form and motions. He didn't ask for it… but… he accepted it, jolts swirling through his bone marrow, and as the point of relief budded in his balls, and drove forth in a peaked clima-. 
	-Thhbrp- The thud of her fingers pinching the base of his dick was a gavel delivering judgement. The streams of pleasure halted, and a bolt of tension tore through his soft tissue. “Mghs-gahshagnsnk-…” 
	She leaned in tighter, and arched him back, head sunk in her chest. “Did granny tell you, that you could finish…?” 
	Chest swath over his face, only his mouth free to contort in discomfort as she finagled down her other hand, jerking him off with one, while the other… strangled him. He had been soaring on a cloud, so much that he had failed to noticed the dark skies he headed towards. 
	“That's, how you can keep that trap shut fer just a bit, right darlin'? Granny wants to ensure you built up proper down there.” she said, beating down his dick with a tact that rippled stimulus through his shaft, but never reached beyond the gate of her clasp. She knew just where he would feel the most pleasure, and just where to choke him out of satisfaction. 
	“Mghghs… ghaha.” He wheezed having leaned back into the lack of gratification, only to drown in it. Another ruined throb quaked through his spine. Andrew's jewels swelled, the luster of a satisfying relief bunched up in his engorging sac, growing rosy with ache as Belle marionette’d  his body against his will. 
	“Good lad…” she huffed out, and slowly drew herself down his form, chest bunching up flat to his back as she trailed down, and spun to face his cock, swapping fingers pinching his mast one at a time, each shift sending a shockwave through his lap. Andrews's knees rattled… 
	“Keep standing for granny, won't you?” She dismissed him, smirking as she noticed his balls. “A good handful here, ain't it?” She said, cupping them, stroking the portly orbs caging his climax. “Bit more, and these bad lads'd rival a bull. Like I said, if my daughter knows anything, it's a good dick.” She licked her lips, silver lipstick sparkling, before she planted the smooth pecker at the tip of his trembling shaft, and suckled it in with a long -Slfhhrrlrlprs- slurp echoing through her wet cheeks. 
	“Gnghfhgyng…” Andrew winched, flinching as his shaft was betrothed to the care of the silken lips, tension blossoming once more, accelerated to new heights… He felt his hips hump to the rhythm of the bobs of her head enveloping his shaft… scrotum palpitating, strain carbonated… then… Belle lifted a finger…
	Here it came, all at once, the sweet, sweet relief coursing through his-… but that… that wasn't relief, it was, a spear of molten lead, piercing through his mast and smoldering his nerves in its wave. 
	“Mmfmwmf mfwpfsh,” Belle hummed out as she suckled down his dick, and a trickle rippled through his cock, into her cheeks. But it wasn't cum… 
	The woman had browbeat the piss out of his bladder, the tension of straining through a piss when at the cusp of an orgasm torched a hole through Andrew's will. “Mfmns, mfmwhf,” She huffed and peeled her lips back after nursing out a good mouthful, the stream of liquid amber trickling out Andrew's mast as thin as a straw, and dispersing into a cloud of drops as it tumbled free. 
	“Pathetic pisser ya got there, hoss,” Belle mused, rubbing the vice of her fingers along the base. “Though, perhaps, yer just not versed in its use.” She said, and tugged on his cock like a leash, stepping out of the shower with him and aiming his dick towards the tiled walls. 
	“This how we get ‘er done,” she mused and constricted the mast in a new, twisted grasp. -Frrwffssssffs- the stream picked up immediately, the scolding urine rushing out his shaft and splattering against the wall. The beam of undiluted dick dew breaking apart on impact, shattering as stained glass into a haze of glistening particles hovering in the glow of the bathroom light. A reek of ammonia and mouldy banana peels wafting through the bathroom. 
	“That's more like it, hoss, just like this,” she snickered softly to herself as she tugged and jerked his dick around like a joystick that elicited a range of quivers and groans from the boy as she painted thick streams of the steaming molten amber over the walls. The droplets trickling down the smoothed ceramic to bundle up and soak the interspace between them. 
	“You gotta have some control now, right, fellah?” she asked, meeting his gaze, and relinquished his cock… 
	Andrew waited, and waited. The stream, stilled to a trickle, his knees, bent and quaking, balls throbbing in throes of distress. But he could barely manage to just piss… 
	Belle smirked, “What a darling expression, realising ya cannot cum is one matter, it’s another to come to terms with that ya can't even manage a wee.” She slurped her tongue along the side of his shaft, and secured her fingers at the base once more. “There…”
	“Don't think, I ain't keepin' may promise. I'll fix you all up, but granny needs her payment, and you got one,” -Smmft- she kissed his cock, streams of amber pungency trickling down her cheeks, “meaty dick up for the task,” she hummed, hoisting the cock to hone in on her face, closing her eyes, and massaging the steaming beam of urine out, splashing over her forehead, soaking in through the silver hair and spiralling down the silver curls like a waterslide, a labyrinth of the scintillant amber liquid painting her face. Belle sighing loudly, pupils rolled up to the back of her head as she bathed in the waterfall of heated boy nectar, face broadening to a smile so droplets of the savoury stream could soak in her gums and dip down her teeth. The face that met him now, removed from the one that had previously greeted him, one unshackled from restraint. 


~ 4 ~


The cock-ring was still cold on Andrew's skin as he was lead out of the bathroom, drooping water over the floor as she lead him forwards, every step dictated by Belle. “You ok to sit down, hun?” 
	“Ha. Ah I-I t-think…” 
	“On amount of those balls of yers, won't squeeze so big you can't sit around them, hmm? We don't wanna squeeze out that muck just yet, do we?” 
	“I-I a w-w-we…” 
	“We do not~” She corrected him as she eased him down on the seat, patting his abdomen gently. “Fellah, you drank so much I'd thought you'd burst, usually I have to coerce my lads to do that. But seems mah brat wrung you dry,” she said, leaving his side to pluck something from the kitchen. “Then again, like mudda, like daughter,” she said, and plonked down a two liter pitcher of crystal clear glass on the floor in front of him. Andrew making out the label: 'Granny's famous peach tea, on a sticker. 
	“Sugah, it's not too unbearable to store your load in there, hmm?” She said as she traced her fingers along his balls, “it's just not the same lemonade, ‘less its been distilled through some grade a spunk,” she mused, and let her fingers roam up to the metal cock ring… -Crth- and twisted it, like easing the valve off a tap. Andrew felt his sinew bending to its will, and easing up his shaft, for an arch of crystaline, marigold nectar to jettison free, and plummeting down right… beside the pitcher… 
	“Won't even aim,” Belle said as she nudged his shaft, the bubbling splatter of the concentrated piss rippling in the pitcher as the surface rose and rose, a fluff of pale orange suds formed into a persimmon foam, fluffing along the edges as the fresh juices filled up the vessel. Andrew staring at it, attempting to connect the sense the notion of his dick being retrofitted to a tap for this woman's drink, with the emotional turmoil brewing in his balls… His gaze shifted, and belle's palm came to rest at his neck. “Good fellah…” 
	His gaze shifted towards her, noticing she had brandished her phone, documenting the pitcher as he unloaded her brew. 
	“Ifsh… I-iah… fmms w-why…,” he mumbled as the foam scrubbed up against the brim. -Cchc- she twitched the ring, and the flow petered out to a few droplets. 
	“Darlin', hun,” she said, brushing down the back of his head as she decanted a shotglass of the golden nectar. “Ain't your mama told you honey tastes sweeter after a dash a vinegar?” She scoffed and scritched under his chin like a pet. “A promise is a promise,” she said and held up the glass in front of the camera, “first, as for my new grandchild.” She chuckled. One swig… and the glass was empty, a moustache of foam perched on her lips, but swept away with a flick of her tongue. “Mmf… and your dues, have been paid,” she smiled, savouring the flavouring and the look of the boy, slumped back in the chair, shaking… Her expression gradually mellowed, “though, means I've gotta reckon for 'nother mouth to feed. ” She eyed the paperwork on her desk, a cold bolt warping down her spine. “That's a matter for another day, yeah?” she said and walked back to the kitchenette. “For now, you’re in need of some grub, soon as you dry. I'll apply the salve to your marks and then a cool place to rest, I've got a spare bed in the cabin,” she said, then turned back to Andrew, still shaking on the chair, but following her with his eyes, hanging on her words. 
	Her expression softened to a smile, “though I've got the odd abandoned trailer I can fix up for ya. I reckon you could use some peace ‘a mind.” 
	Andrew met her gaze, slowly, his breath calmed, he closed his yes, and took a calm breath… “I-… w-wouldn't mind…” he huffed out. 
	“Then its settled,” Belle said, and Andrew heard another clinking of glass. The boy opened his eyes to see Belle holding a second, identical, pitcher. 
	“You won't mind if I squeeze out some rent payment off ya early?” 
	“I-I…” Andrew quivered. 
	Belle smirked, “Course you won't mind, that's a good grandson.”