Ronnie hides! and films...

He quickly pulled her top down and dashed, pigeon-toed, to the closet. Through the slats, he saw her sillouetted form raise up, briefly, and grab the bottle. He watched her take two very long gulps from it before slamming it back to the floor. "So, Candy is a bit of a lush..." Ronnie thought. He watched her left thigh unhinge and dangle off the side of the recliner as she passed back out immediately.

Dark, sinister thoughts started entering his mind. Ronnie could imagine her pussy, wet and warm, poised at his prick. He unconsciously rubbed himself as he the thought of her quivering thighs wrapped around his huge waist. He imagines he big prick slipping into her, the liquid sounds of their sex filling the room. Her eyes would flutter open and see him, fucking her hard, and she would smile...

Just then, as he held his dick in his hand, the door swung open. Ole Man Porter stumbled in, whiskey in hand. Ronnie held his breath. "Did he see me? OH FUCK! I'm so screwed!" He quickly released his swollen member and closed his eyes.

"Candy? Candice? You in here, girl?" he said in a comically slurred voice. Ole' Man Porter was a vietnam vet, or so he claimed. Well into his 60's and perhaps beyond, he still managed to fill everyone in the trailer park in on the sinister liberal plots and subversive media agendas that he saw happening all around him; while still finding time to freak out every semi-attractive woman in the trailer park with his offerings of booze and "rubbin's".

Ronnie watched the old mans stumble over to the lights, turn them on, and see Candy splayed out on the recliner. He shook her thigh once. "Candy, wake up!" he said, stumbling back and forth. "C'mon girl. I wanna give you some rubbin's!" he said, going to a knee beside her. "You said earlier when I offert' "maybe later." Well, its later!" Ronnie watched as the old man's hand touched her forearm, slid up to her shoulder, and onto her chest.

He stood behind the chair, both hands firmly clamping down on her tits. He sqeezed and kneeded them together slowly, roughly. Ronnie pulled out his phone and started taking pictures. He had a plan, and he knew it'd work...

Ole' Man Porter didn't waste any time pulling her top off. Candy's amazing C cups were damned near perfect as he mauled them with his thick, calloused fingers. Candy's head turned, slightly. "You wanna drink?" he slurred. Porter hefted the bottle of hooch and put it to her mouth. To Ronnie's amusement, she greedily slugged it down in large gulps. Seconds later, she was still.

Ole' Man Porter sat in front of her, and started to rub her calves. "Damn you are FINE Ms Candy!" he mumbled as his hands ran further and further up her legs, onto her bare thighs, and finally under her skirt. Ronnie started to rub himself when he saw that Candy's body was responding. He couldn't see what was happening under the skirt, but the old man's thick forearms tensed and relaxed rapidly, and her chest rose and shuttered.

Ronnie quickly adjusted his phone, and started recording video. "This is gonna be good..." he thought. A mere three seconds later, the old man pulled her panties down her smooth, stockinged legs, over her black boots, and tossed them behind him...