Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience. I was known around town as a bit of a sucker for hard luck cases. People came to me with problems, and I helped them out. I considered it an investment that generally paid off. Don't get me wrong. I always looked for a payoff. Some investments take years, some don't pan out. Take Beth's mother, for instance. It happened that she needed a place to stay during that rough patch when her husband left, saddling her with a squirming ten year old girl and a mailbox full of bills, so I put her up in a trailer on the corner of my property. Like most investments, she didn't immediately, or even directly pay off, though. I got regular blowjobs in lieu of the pittance I asked for in rent, but they were mostly for for form's sake. I had to charge her something. Every dime she had went up her nose as cheap speed. I always felt sorry for the kid though. Beth's mom was worse than her dad, in my opinion, in that she hung around, screwing the kid up another five or six years before riding off to parts unknown with some meth freak about when rent was due to me. Those extra years of trash pile upbringing could never be undone, though, as no doubt you will read on, I was able to make use of it in bringing her up my way. I came home early one day to find Beth rummaging in my kitchen. From the mess, it looked like she'd eaten a week's worth of food in ten minutes. I take most things in stride, but she jumped a foot when I appeared in the doorway. "I'm sorry... I'm sorry, I wasn't stealing, and the door wasn't locked...but mom hasn't been home in week-and I just got so hungry..." The tears started then, so I just walked over and let her blubber all over my shirt for a good while. "Go home, get your stuff, and set it up in the spare room upstairs. We'll have it all sorted out in no time." I told her. She walked out, wiping her nose with her sleeve, and still sniffling. I watched her out the window. Her face wasn't much to speak of and she was a bit scrawny, small pointy tits and not much in the ass, but with a few decent meals and a stable home-she'd clean up alright. I went upstairs, piled fresh linen on the guest bed, gave the empty chest of drawers a quick wipe for all the dust, then went down and made coffee, pulling out a cold soda and a glass of ice for her. I sat down and waited, reflecting on what I needed to do. I had no illusions of becoming a father to damaged teenager with no real future, but I figured on working something out that might keep her off the street. Any illusion of her being an innocent country girl had been smashed a few years ago when she was about twelve. I had been walking out back in the the woods and saw one the older local boys bare-assed and pounding away at her right there in the dirt while another sat nearby, eyes riveted to the action and hard cock in hand, waiting his turn. I turned around and left them at it, nearly squirting in my jeans before I got home, filing it away for later use. That was a sight I'd never forgotten, and I had myself figured into it by the time she hit the front steps again, returning from her place. She must have just grabbed some clothes and make-up, judging by a grocery bag of small items and a black hefty bag for clothes. "You just go right on up and settle yourself in and we'll talk when you come down." Without a word she marched up, and took some time upstairs to unpack and calm down. As she dragged her feet back down into the kitchen, I gestured to the empty chair and the soda on the coffee table. With trepidation, and some evident relief, she sat down. I got right to it: "You know yer Ma, and you know the world she lives in, and I figure you gotta know I only took about half the rent in cash." That had her blushing. "Hell, if she's been gone a week, she ain't looking back. You're what, 15-16 now?" She nodded. "Well you can stay here long as you want, if you mind the rules. "Or..." I paused for effect, "we can call child services and they'll make you state's ward and you can try out some foster homes 'till you get fed up and hit the streets, and I don't think I need to tell you much about that, knowing yer ma and all." Those tears of hers started right back up again and it took her a little while find her voice, " I'll stay as long as I can, and I'll follow the rules." Beaming at her, I stepped up and squeezed her shoulder gently, "I think it'll work out fine, long as you need. Now you go up and get yer room sorted out upstairs, then have a nice long soak in that 'ole tub in the upstairs bathroom. I'm steppin' out for a bit, then I'll fix us some supper around dinner time and we can talk some then." I went down to the Sheriff's office and put in a few inquiries with a friend of mine who worked there about Beth's mother (some days later I learned she was probably Jane Doe body number two in a meth lab burn down two counties over). I picked up some groceries then went back home to cook dinner. Some 40 year old bachelors survive on pizza and take out, but I'm old school rural and like home cooked, even if I've had to make do myself over the years. Returning home, I went to take a leak upstairs, and saw her dirty clothes neatly bundled up near the the bath. Unwrapping them, I found the dirty panties bundled in her shirt. They looked like they'd been worn more than just a day or two. I was sure of it when that scent wafted up. Holding to the basin counter firmly, I slowly pulled them to my face, and inhaled deeply, the scent hit the back of my skull hard, leaving me slightly lightheaded. After taking a moment to recover, I bundled the clothes neatly back the way I found them, only I left the panties on top. I needed to plant a seed in her mind for now. I went downstairs and set to in the kitchen, making up some pork chops and mashed potatoes and the last shot of this years local corn. I think the smell of my gravy brought her downstairs to the kitchen table just as I was pourin' it over our plates. We ate in silence, but its awkwardness was short lived. She relaxed as she wolfed down the food, most likely the first real good home cooked meal she ever had, circumstances not withstanding. When we finished, I pushed my plate back, poured her some more milk and myself a cup of doctored coffee. "Now to the household rules. Number one: I ain't your Daddy. It's my house and my rules, and that is that. I don't argue, and there is no discussion. We both know your upbringing is done and fallen short and nothing will change that, but my house is my rules. Number two: you'll keep going to school, or they'll send the officials looking for you. Number three: I expect you to be home for dinner. Should you continue to stay here, I'll show around the kitchen and you'll be making dinner. There ain't no shortcuts in my kitchen either, so don't just nod and think a can of soup will do. That effectively means you're coming straight back from school. And no friends for now, till things settle down. Well talk about other rules after a nights sleep and a normal day." Looking right down-table at her, I asked, "These rules make sense that you can live with?" Nodding, she pushed her plate back. "Now I'm going to watch some TV 'till I snooze" I said. I went to the living room flipped the channel to "Lost" and then settled back, comfortably hearing the sound of a kitchen being cleaned up as I dozed off. An early riser, I had breakfast going and coffee brewed before I woke her. As she sat and looked at the the country breakfast laid out, I said "Today I'll drop you off , but you'll continue the rest of the time catching the school bus." I wrote her a note for the missing week, citing a family emergency, and asking for the missing work to be done at home. I signed it with my name, figuring the school would take it without question-they did. After dropping her off at school and seeing her low-waisted pants ass crack through the school entrance, I went off to work. I ran the number two branch of a family business selling and renting agricultural equipment. As number two branch, I was able to avoid family parasites and hire a competent, motivated crew, so things ran on cruise control, so long as I put my face in first thing, and almost always stayed late on Fridays to keep up an example. I long ago found that coming and going randomly throughout the day was more effective than being underfoot or overhead all the time. I decided that today would be a good exception to the "Friday" rule and I knocked off early, and went home to meet the school bus. When the bus rolled in, I met Beth and we ambled back to the house. "I expect you probably have lots of school work to catch up on this weekend." I said flatly. I got that teenage girl shrug in return, but I could see a just a hint of resignation in it. People slack in different ways, but most generally fall into a comfort zone of knowing exactly how far they can go and get away with it. A turbulent family life followed by a week of starvation, then a full meal and scratch behind the ears followed by some discipline- I knew exactly how to keep her off-balance and keep pushing her in the right direction. Hell, her "parents" had been keeping her off-balance for years, all I had to do was tip her. "Well, don't worry about school work tonight, it's Friday, and we'll get it taken care of in the next two afternoons. You just take an hour or so to relax, and then I'll start showing you around a kitchen. Don't worry, it's not like it sounds. We'll have fun, and all we really need is something edible at the end of it." Damn near exactly one hour later she came downstairs. She couldn't entirely avoid that teenage trashy bitch expression, but she looked slightly open for something new. Not bothering to put down my farm trade magazine and briefly glancing at her,"Go back up and get out of those cheap slut jeans. I saw you have that comfortable looking skirt hanging off the doorknob. We're baking, so it's gonna be hot. You can chuck yer dirties into the hamper in my room." At that moment my hamper held two socks and a well used dirty jockey, placed carefully, yellow stained pouch side up. She needed to know she was alone in a man's home. A half hour later she returned, wearing the skirt with hight-tops and a bad metal band T-shirt. No bra (shocking my adult sensibility, no doubt). Without remark, I took her to the kitchen. I set her to browning chicken while I made up a sauce, explaining each step in the process, and stressing that it's trial-and-error, but understanding the why of each step in the process is the science (if not the art) of creating a decent meal. We then dumped her browned bits into my sauce and set them into the oven to bake. While I cleaned up I explained how to steam a perfect bed of vegetables to serve the stewed chicken on, which she accomplished handily. I had her giggling with some off-color jokes, and pretended not see her taking a drag off my cigarette while I went to the pantry. We sat down to eat. As we ate, she relaxed even more. "Now, Beth, lets talk some more" I said. She looked a little wary and put her fork down. "Oh don't stop eating, this is too good to eat cold, specially these vegetables!" "I'm going to give you my drugs and sex speech now" I said smiling. "Three good reasons to stay away from drugs: One, yer daddy. Two, yer Ma and her scumbag boyfriends. And three: your life up to now." I said this lightly, but looked at her right in the eyes while ticking the count off on my fingers. "Got it?" "Yes." she said plainly. I think I even believed her. "Now sex." I let that hang a little. She tried looking right at me, but something seemed to have caught her eye down on the table somewhere. I continued "While we both know you aren't cheerleader material, you ain't exactly off the ugly tree either. I suspect you're a bit of a slot machine for pimply faced little pricks until they score someone they'd prefer to be seen with." Her flash of anger followed by tear tracks said it all. "You on the pill?" "No" she said, still tearing. "How one of those losers ain't knocked you up yet is astounding. You keep giving it away like that and you're like a cheap motel: you might stay the night when you have to, but you certainly ain't gonna live there. You get my point?" Her silence said it all. "Nothing whatsoever wrong with being a slut, just don't advertise and make sure you keep some sort of good price on that pussy. She was blubbering again as she stood and gathered our plates. I took them from her, set them on the counter, and let her blubber into my shirt for a bit. My cock was about half hard now, and I slowly took her hand and placed it on the crotch of my pants that was starting to tent as her blubbering started to subside. "Room and board" I said simply as I moved her hand around, making her palm feel the bulging mass lurking inside. I let her hand loose, and it dropped. It took another prompt of my placing her hand back before she continued the rubbing on her own. She was learning. I ran my hands back behind her thighs, lifting her skirt somewhat, then bringing them both around to the front, up and under the skirt. My fingers found the ends of soft hairs almost immediately, then paused, and she looked right up at me. "I didn't have any clean panties" she said, looking at me pointedly with those still watery brown eyes, make-up trailing down each cheek. "Clean panties ain't the norm around here" I said, lifting her and setting her on the table edge. "Lean back." I said, as I pulled a chair over and sat down, lifting her skirt and ducking under and in to it. I shouldered her knees aside and slid my hands under her ass cheeks, thumbs already spreading those outer lips. There was just enough dark hair to frame the slit on that white skin nicely, just a hint of pink visible. The scent rising up knocked the back of skull for real this time, and I took savored it for a moment, then plunged my face right in, running my tongue up the length of her slit, then hard against the still hidden clit, before it went plunging as deep as I could get it into her fuck hole. I worked it in, up, around, and back down; even spreading her ass cheeks with my fingers, giving my tongue free access around the bitter taste of her asshole, then running it back up and deep down her fuck tunnel, lapping up every bit of flavor. As that pussy opened up, I started spending more time on her clit, until her thighs squeezed in and started pushing my head out. She was fully laid back now, high-tops on the edge of the table, knees just as far apart as they could get. Undoing my waistband, and sliding my shorts down with my thumb, I stood up, freeing my dripping cock. Taking a hold of my cock as I stepped out of my shorts, I rubbed its bright purple cheesy head over the entrance to her fuck tunnel, smearing a glob of pre-cum around. "Don't get me-" "Don't talk, just take my cock and put it in." I said, scooting her ass more toward the edge of the table. Hesitating slightly, she reached over and planted my cock head right into her entrance. I pushed in a little, then paused, just barely keeping my cock in place. Then I started easing in, backing off, easing in, until after one last easing off, I plunged ahead until I was buried to the root, my balls slapping against the edge of the table. At this point I backed up all the way, and seeing that my cock head was now clean of cheese, I rammed it back into her hard, then repeated the ramming, grabbing her shoulders and pulling her onto my cock as I drove it in. I had worked her up with my tongue enough that she was beginning to climax almost right when I started pounding her, which was good as I wasn't far behind. Just as her heels were digging into my ass and she was trying to pull my cock as deep as it would go, I gave it the go-ahead, and it started erupting. I was pumping shot after shot of sperm laden fluid; after each jet of hot cum, my cock would flex, then aim back down, pumping another stream into her moist depths. I could feel that wet fuck tunnel contracting, sucking up each load as it came, until gradually the eruptions and contractions eased. She was nearly unconscious at this point. I stood there as my cock softened inside of her, the last stream of spermy juice leaking into her as my cock contracted. I let it slip out and sat back down on the kitchen chair, transfixed by the sight of that briefly gaping red tunnel gently releasing my load as it slowly closed. A huge globule was trailing down toward her ass, and I caught it with two fingers, then reinserted them back into her, smearing the glob of juice around. I then started working on her again with my fingers, at the same time bringing my tongue down to her glistening, distended clitoris. While fucking her with two fingers, I managed to slime up the middle finger of my other hand with the dripping juice, and I then started gently working it into her ass. My three fucking fingers and tongue had her worked up again in no time at all, and a second orgasm rippled through her sucking cunt. She stayed fairly silent throughout, only her short breath betraying her. When her breathing fell back to a regular rhythm, I picked her up gently, and carried her upstairs and placed her onto her bed. I unlaced her high-tops and stripped off her skirt, leaving on the bad metal band T-shirt. Rolling her under the covers, I gently kissed her forehead; she was asleep.