Candy Peachwood pushed the door of her trailer open. She had shoulder length brunette hair with blonde highlights. Her extremely tight white sweater under a tailored jacket and black pinskirt, hose, and knee-high black boots was certainly not the norm in the trailer park. She swayed from the effects of the whiskey she had drank at Ole' Man Porter's place just up the road.
Candy was a rarity in the trailer park. She had an education, and had climbed the ranks in the local hotel chain from mere housekeeper to executive secretary. Candy was an excellent employee, even though she never had any real college degrees. She yanked her refrigerator open and hauled out a bottle of Tequila and took a large, long gulp. Candy also, without a doubt, had the absolutely finest ass in the county, let alone the park. It had gotten her into a lot of trouble in the past...
"Oh shit." She thought. "I've got to go to work tomorrow..." She slammed the bottle back into her fridge, and slowly peeled her jacket off. She had athletic, perky C cups that stood in pure defiance of gravity. "Oh wait, its Friday. I don't have to work..." she thought. A split second later, the bottle was back in her hand, her head tilted back, and more tequila was sliding down her throat.
She carried the bottle into her living room. She drank two more quick gulps before sitting down and turning on the TV. Candy quickly realized that she was way, way too warm to go to sleep anytime soon as soon as the tequila hit. She stood up and opened the the windows, and settled back into the recliner in front of the TV.
Her husband, Billy-Steve, wouldn't be home until dawn when his shift at the mine ended. Candy settled in, and turned on the TV with one hand, and slugged from the bottle with the other. She had, unfortunately, married one of the worst deadbeats when she was only 19 and had to drop out of college to take care of him. She made just enough money to pay for her student loans and to cover the rent, but not enough to get them out of the park. This was his first week of work in nearly a year.
It wasn't more than thirty minutes before she was fast asleep in the recliner, with her blinds open... |