Riley Jo Givens woke up that morning with just the tiniest hangover sitting right in the middle of her head. She stuck her pink tongue out and smacked her lips a few times against the sand paper feel, dry and chalky in her mouth.

She was alone in the single wide trailer she shared with her mother, Raylee, and her mother’s sometime boyfriend, Carl. The two of them had gone to the casino in Lake Charles for the weekend, leaving her to manage by herself and to care for the menagerie of cats, dogs and goats that wandered around her mother’s place on the edge of Mermentau, Louisiana. At the end of Railroad Avenue, to be precise.

She burped and tasted beer from the night before gurgle up in her throat. Grimacing with a pained look in her green eyes, she rolled over on the floor and off the pallet of blankets she slept on, pushed herself up on her knees and fumbled around among the sheets and pillows for her cigarettes and lighter.

She grabbed the bottle of water she slept with, twisting the cap and pouring the cold stuff down her throat so fast she almost choked. The coolness and wetness of it filled her mouth. She stuck a smoke in it and lit it. Inhaled the first drag with a deep sigh. 

She wore a white tank top that didn’t cover her belly. She had picked it out of her almost clean pile in the laundry hamper the night before to wear to the keg party at the creek after the football game. The Mermentau Tigers were playing the Lake Arthur Wildcats, and she was leading the cheer for Mermentau. They were 12-1 this year, and she planned to inspire the boys on the team all the way to the championship, if she had to go running naked down Railroad Avenue in the middle of the night to every one of their houses, climb up a ladder and dive under the sheets with them to make sure they knew how important it was to her. 

She had an inney belly button, pierced with a silver fleur de lis banglet hanging down on a short piece of chain and pointing toward the line of soft silky down hair that peeked out of her thin cotton panties. A pair of yellow shorts with LSU printed in purple across her ass clung to her thighs. Now the shorts were creeping up her crack. She toked on the cigarette and squirmed around on the pallet, pulling the shorts out and stretching the tank top to almost fit over her big breasts. 

Bill Jenkins was at that game last night, and it was for him she’d picked the tank top. Well, and the shorts too, for that matter. Bill was a linebacker on the football team, and he was a tall dark haired dream of a boy, but dumber than a bag of bunnies.

She squinted her eyes and blew a fog of smoke out toward the screen window of the porch. Now she couldn’t remember if Bill had even noticed, if he’d even been impressed. He wasn’t lying here on her pallet with her, flat belly and six pack abs under her hands, letting her lick on him like a popsicle, so she assumed he hadn’t been impressed enough. She tried counting on her fingers how many little red plastic cups of beer she’d drank, but couldn’t remember beyond the first three. 

Melissa Whittle had been at that party though, and Riley was pretty sure Bill was keeping more than just an eye on that slut’s ass. Her and Melissa had kept a wary distance from each other so far all year, even though they were both co-captains of the cheerleading squad, and Riley wasn’t about to lose what she and Bill had together just as their senior graduation plans started to come together. 

She bit her lip, thought of his hands running down her back and settling on her ass, squeezing and pulling her up, up, up, till she stood on her tiptoes and felt his ragged fingernails dig into her flesh. 

Ah, he should have come home with her, she thought, running her hand down inside her shorts and feeling the slippery wet between her legs. She let the finger flick her clit until she shivered and then slide inside her pussy. Her labia were so sensitive in the mornings lately, the fabric of her underwear waking her up sometimes like thorns brushing against rose petals, like busy little fingernails on a fleshy engorged chalkboard.

Her breathing hitched in her throat and she felt the hangover loosening its vice grip on her head. She flicked her cigarette out the open screen door, the green eyes of a big tabby cat sitting on the ledge of the window widening as the butt flew past its head.

A white goat, little as a chicken, wandered into view in the doorway in the yard and sniffed the smoking butt on the ground. It pawed it once and tossed its head and dashed off into the bushes. 

Riley grabbed her left breast in her hand, pinching the nipple and pulling it hard with her fingertips. She lay back down on the pallet and spread her legs wide, pulling her shorts to the side and digging her other hand inside herself until the juices squished out and made a little rivulet down her inner thigh. Frantic now, pulling her breast and moaning with a low growl, she masturbated until she felt the orgasm rise up in her like the yells and screams of the crowd at the bonfire last night. She thought of them all running around in a circle.

She was lying in the middle, lying in the dirt naked, everyone looking and laughing at her and pointing at her, some with their mouths open in shock, some of the girls reaching inside their own shorts to finger themselves and splay their legs wide and squat down to watch her play with herself. And then suddenly, there was Bill, towering over her, naked and oiled and covered in sweat, grabbing her by the ankles and putting her legs up on his rocky shoulders, driving his mighty dumb ass cock inside her up to the hilt, just like he’d done before, his goofy beautiful boy face grinning down at her and his mouth rounding off into that ecstatic “O” as he reached orgasm, a sudden shocked look in his eyes as he came, the look that always made her smile. 

Riley gasped and felt the waves of the orgasm ripple through her. She arched her back and pulled her knees up to her chest and hugged them to her belly, the little silver pendant in her belly button catching in the crook of her thigh. Her toes curled into tight little grippers on her feet, sending cramps quivering up her calves and thighs. She came again, dropping her feet back onto the floor and shaking until the spasms stopped. She giggled and stretched her legs out. She yawned and rolled back onto her belly, felt the last of the release roll up her exposed ass cheeks and settle into the small of her back. 

Then her eyes popped open. Open door? How the hell did the door get… “Oh my god!”, she screamed. “You little shits! If I catch you I’m gonna shove that camera up your asses, you pervaturds!”

She reached for the blanket and sheets, pulled them up over her naked and exposed body just as laughter and giggles came floating back to her from outside the door and down the backyard walkway. Her boss’s oldest boy, Danny, and his buddy Frankie ran with a video camera off into the woods at the back of the house. Riley only caught a glimpse of jeans and a yellow shirt, but she knew it was them. 

She got up on her knees and ran to the screen door, pushing it out over the walkway until the aluminum hinges screamed and squealed. “Danny Plimpton if I see you showing that around a campfire I’ll fry your balls in butter, you fucker! God damn it!” 

She slammed the screen door closed and the tabby cat sitting on the ledge jumped off and ran, a low growl coming out of its throat. 

Riley let out a sigh and pursed her lips at the cat. “Alright Katherine, time to eat. I gotta go to work!” Goddamn boys! She smiled to herself a little, thinking of the show she’d just put on for that dumbass Danny and his little nose picker of a friend, Frankie Thomas. They weren’t too bad as little turds went. She knew they wouldn’t show it around, would just jerk off to it in the woods like monkeys throwing their own shit at each other. It made her a little wet between the legs again, thinking about how they watched her and recorded her and there was nothing she could do about it. And didn’t really want to do anything about it. For a second she thought about lying back down on her pallet and spreading her legs, maybe grabbing the big dildo she knew her mother kept in her bedside table in the other little bedroom down the hall, seeing if she could make herself cum again before the cat finished eating. 

Then she thought about her mother and Carl and what they probably did with that thing, and she shivered, wrinkled her face. 

She grabbed another cigarette and fed the cat.