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The War Intensifies.... (MF, MM, FF, WS, Anal, Spank, Humor)

Writers Bloque · 1353

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Offline Writers Bloque

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Authors Note: This and any story I post here will be certified 95% true. Now I have to point out that I hold no animosity towards anyone or any religion. Its the people that make or break it, and this particular group decided to not only be the thorn in my, and the neighborhoods side, but drive it in as deep as they can.

Two weeks after the Danse Sensual party.

I had three weeks left of my mental health leave, and in one week school would be letting out for the summer. The last week of the break was already slotted to going on a trip to see my son graduate in Texas. So if I was going to go on my personal mind clearing trip it would have to be Sunday. Now leading up to this, I thought I was sneaky and prepared for it, but my wife sat with her cup of coffee, on her rare Saturday off.

"Planning to head to the Camp?"

"What?"

And that's when my lax in diligently checking the mail came to not just bite me in the ass, but lovingly licking the wound and leaving bite marks on it. She slid the credit card bills and loan agreement across the table to me.

I had no response. I was caught. But she just laughed.

"C'mon baby, I know you better than you know yourself. If you need a personal getaway, just ask. No more sneaking around."

"Yeah, I wanted to go to the camp and monitor the setup of the new triple wide being delivered. Dad would go, but he has invested himself in repairing the playground in his neighborhood, with the blessings from the county."

"Go then, we will be fine. Besides I am worried about you, so go sort your shit out and come home."

She said with a smile. Not an ounce of malice.

But.

Something was up.

The camp. It has been in the family, passed down the line on my paternal side of the family, and the last caretaker was my grandfather. Since his passing, the people who were renting it now thought they could live scott free. However, my father, and mother, before she fell ill had them evicted, but the people who were actually my step grandmothers family, did not go peacefully or quietly. They trashed everything they could in all possible ways they could. Since my father was Executor of his estate, there was a lot of money willed and budgeted to the up keep of the property, slough, and about twenty feet of river bank. It was almost a heavenly solitude paradise, where the neighbors are few, and friendly, it is quiet, and the mosquitoes will carry off your young. But you can fish the river, watch alligators hump in the swamp, if you are into that sort of thing, and just generally be at one with nature, kind of.

There is even an old time general store, and the road the camp on has a few other people on it, and almost a mile down the dirt road is the public boat launch. Friday, Dad texted me that the trailer company will be there Monday morning, and I would have to rough it for a couple of days, as set up will take a little time. I did not mind, I had my vehicle, a weeks worth of MRE's and a fishing pole. I packed my rifle, and a box of ammo,  five changes of clothes and as many axles I could. I also bought 4 oxen, and drinks. The wagon was ready for the Defuniak Springs Trail. (Oregon Trail reference)

Not going to lie, it was a bit of an arduous trek, since the highway into town was paved, but the road to the camp was just a trail into the woods. If you did not pay attention, you would miss it. There was another way in, but that would be another ten minutes on an already hour and a half to two hour trip. I remember spending my youth there, helping carve out a vehicle trail, only to have it overgrown by the next year. This trail was not for anything short of a tank. The other route would be car friendly, but the quickest way was directly from the highway.

Sunday Morning.

After quietly loading the truck up in the early morning. I kissed my wife and daughter good bye, who were oddly up at the table in their robes. Something was off and my spidey sense was tingling hard.

After leaving the neighborhood and hitting the highway east, I felt as though I was being followed. I mean many people I know use this highway to go to town, but some vehicles I did not recognize followed me as I exited onto the highway heading to where I was going. So I maintained the speed limit and played some music as my tummy growled. Welp, there was a selection of places to stop for a quick breakfast, but I wanted to see who was following me. The traffic was not too light, but far from heavy, good enough to get lost in a convoy of semi's and then exit off to that luxurious greasy spoon that boasts of hundreds of ways they can make a pile of shredded potatoes, where you can see them make your food and relax. So I ordered a full plate, with both sausage and bacon, scrambled eggs with cheese, toast, grits, and three waffles. And to almost top my fuel tank off, two biscuits with sausage gravy, and of course the shredded potatoes with mushrooms, ham, cheese and onion, with two packs of ranch dressing. Orange juice was obligatory, and I watched the people follow me, and I swore I could see them looking right at me, since the restaurants windows were wide and the blinds raised.

But after patting my belly and sipping my third cup of coffee after eating a fine meal, I ordered the chocolate pie, and another cup of coffee. Now perfectly full, I paid, tipped the pretty waitress who looked fresh and clean. I shook my head as I walked out, because that particular restaurant will age you up not so nicely. I resumed my journey after walking back inside to drain the main vein, and then got back on the road. I played the same music my dad would listen to when he wrangled the family on a weekend trip. The dulcet sound of Credence Clearwater Revival singing out their famous song about ill omens and moons kind of fit the mood of this trip.

"Don't go around tonight its bound to take your life, there is a bad moon on the rise."

Truer words were never sang. 

The day wore on as the drive was long, and it was early afternoon when I pulled into the small town, I forgotten its name, it did have one, and comically awesome, its council members are neighbors to the camp. They invited my grandfather to join the unofficial town council. Practically a bunch of fun old guys who drink, smoke, chew and make visiting the camp interesting and fun. And over half are related to me in ways that makes my family tree on my dads side look like an overgrown jungle. Now don't get the wrong idea, just because we were in the asscrack of hell and the south none of that Alabama culture going on, its just my dad's ancestors produced a few more daughters than sons. Feuds were handled swiftly and quietly in the Grove Square, a place in the thickest part of the woods where there were rivers of beer and broken teeth. You go there to settle any beef you may have, and by the laws of the land, it is over once you both walk out.

I could have taken the shortcut, but there were some things a man cannot pass up if given the chance. Mrs. G's fudge, two one pound blocks. Humphrey's Homemade jerky, a pound of the softer kind, their full on jerky can cut wood with how tough it is. Best used in a soup or stock. AND the only place I still know of that carries the small bottles of grapico, like my pa used to buy me as a kid, since ma wouldn't let me or my siblins have a full twenty ounce bottle. I bought some bait, because the old wormin spot was fucked over by the laying of clay for the new trailer, and it will be many a year before the worm spot returns to its fruitful glory.

I also got to play hillbilly, because by all rights and reason, I was part of the communities family. People still tell stories of my youthful antics, done with, how can I say this without offending the censors, nary a stitch of thread to be seen. But the best part of this trip was sitting on the bench outside the store, giving my report on how I'm doing to Old John. This man was so old, he dated Mary before she shacked up with Joseph. We talked, as the news of my mother's passing had already reached this far out. He tapped a windchime above him with his cane, one of the ones my mom made before she had to stop due to her failing health. I asked how he gotten that, and he told me once people learned that Little K was doin them arts and crafts, they just had to see them, and well every wife in town had to have one. So he was telling me these people, whom I doubted left the town proper for anything other than to clear paths and trails, traveled to Pensacola proper to buy my mom's recycled art? Stranger things have happened.

But we shot the shit for an hour, as church was letting out. So when they seen me, of course I was greeted proper like. I must have had two gallons of sweet tea in me by the time I headed to the camp.

Dear Reader and Msslave,

Now a lot people dont know this, but swamps have skeeters, and those skeeter will carry off children and pets. BUT there is a tried and true secret that is both nasty and effective to not get torn up with them. Fish blood. Dont cover yourself with it, just get your hands dirty. Because unless you use repellents and lemongrass/citronella candles, and avoid high potassium foods, you are food. But also being aware of the time of day is important, but just go about your business, and accept that they are hungry. Also it helps to have lived in that area for generations, unlike me, who hasn't, but I know some Granny Secrets I am not at liberty to share outside of kith and kin.

As I was saying,

I take the through town route to the camp, which is just a half paved road to the woods. And after a few minutes I was at the fence circling the yard of the camp. The reason for the fence in an area where people barely have front doors, and often don't lock them? Well that's simple. They share the swamp and slough (pronounced Sloo) with multiple generations of an animal thats just as mean and ornery as any man who's shine bottle is empty. Alligators. There was always a Old Pair, an elder male and female who toughed out life together, and keep the youngins in line. And that's where you in the story meet the Joneses. Aptly named as they are a curious pair, Mr. Jones will be the first to investigate, then his wife will follow. They are about as personable as a normal human, too old to really tangle with people, but will still scare the shit out of you if you let them, and as long as I have known them, that was their favorite game. Sit on the bank of the river and hear nothing but nature and they will walk right behind you and make a noise after passing you to let you know just how close to death you were, if they were so inclined. I lost many pairs of shorts to them. Sometimes they will find a sunny spot and just laze in it, and there is nothing you can do to move them.

But they are the unofficial sheriff, judge, pastor, and doctor of the area, even tax collector, if you would believe the drunken story. And their kin are the reason for fences. Because while the old couple respects boundaries, the generations they spawned do not. But the old couple still has a lot of fight in them and on a good Saturday night during mating season, you can watch Mr. Jones show the boys trying to be men alligators where their place is on the totem pole. And those fights beat wrasslin any day. I drove around the fence as the locals had beaten the dirt road down for trailers to be delivered, since people come into some money and gotta upgrade their domiciles. Besides the local trailer company refused for years to deliver to the area cause of the dangerous driving conditions. The fence was open for the crew to deliver and set up the trailer in the morning, and the power pole blessfully had outlets, so I backed my camping monster up and set it up. A folding card table had my TV and radio, not that I can say I got many channels, Me TV, and some local channels but I was not there to be a couch potato.

I grabbed some rocks from the pile of large rocks, and built a fire pit. Then I greeted the neighbors, so they don't put buckshot into me. And then I went swimming.

"Eww Writer, you went swimming in the swamp and slough?

No. Leeches and Alligators. Ever want to know if a swamp has leeches? Pour a can of beer into the water. If the water starts acting drunk, theres leeches thrashing about in a drunken rage. Besides, as I stated earlier, half a mile down the road is the boat launch an swimming area, where the slough connects to the river. Public, busy and fun. Even a snow cone stand for the youngins. And this is where you meet Ashely.

Ashely was my tomboy camp best friend. Until I learned she was a girl. But we are friends to this day. She is my wife's dearest friend, since my wife's family and our family would go to the camp together. My dad and her dad are life long friends, and its the same with Ashely's dad too. But my wife and Ashely share the same quirks and personality, and well...

In a less busy spot where the trees overlap the water, was Ashely, almost naked, rocking a bikini that shouts that you might as well just be naked, barely existing, and swimming. Ashely is roughly one year younger than me, but her lifestyle and job kept her fit and in shape. Well being a girls P.E. coach, and Cheerleading coach will do that to you. Cant let they young cunts go about thinking they are hotter than their coach, can you? She was the perfect mix of southern sweetness, and southern wildness, with hints of a temper and a dash of dirty for good measure.

BUT...DUN DUN DUN.....

(This is one of the most truest parts of this chapter. Nothing is embellished, and its all true to life.)

On the bank in a sunny spot on some towels and blankets was my wife, Mormon's wife, daughter, Mimi, and Andi. But on the public grill was the rag tag motley crew of my male friends, with Mormon in tow, hauling coolers from the suv's with Henri and his wife Tom.

"What the bloody fuck, all that is holy, and things to come and go are you all doing here?"

"Hush, Writer, you think we will miss out on a chance to go to the camp?"

"Well no."

"And how much of our money did you spend on that monster camping suv?"

"about 60k"

"So who gets a vacation too?"

I hung my head in shame.

"You do."

My wife explained it to me in clear detail and facts. The girls final exams start Tuesday, so they can miss Monday, and well she agreed to take on an extra shift or two to have tomorrow off too. The guys have vacation days, and Mormon and his wife wanted to come. I just shrugged. After we all played and made merry, I wanted to show everyone who hasn't been here before what a sunday afternoon in a true small town looked like. So in sundresses  and the guys in pants, we all spent until sundown walking through the town, taking in the sights, and letting the people whom I knew meet my family and friends they didn't know. We had fresh from the churn Ice Cream, shopping at the antique shop, and ending the day at the BBQ restaurant getting slam full of meat and fixins.

Getting back to the "Camp" I built a fire in the pit, tossing in that pouch of herbs of Granny's Secret Mosquito Repellent (Not a product that is sold outside of the town.) And we all chilled out with some music on the radio. I sat by the fire, sweatin my balls off, sipping a cold beer, and talking with my friends. Of course the Joneses were making their last rounds for the night outside the fence, which scared almost everyone there, I bid them goodnight, and I could swear they nodded back at me, as they were within the light of the fire. But when it was time to wind down, Henri, Tom and Mormon crawled into their rented SUV for some alone time, despite the three men making the vehicle rock like it needed Jesus. My wife, Mormons wife and Ashely opted to have their private "talk" in Ashley's pop up travel trailer, she brought to the property. So I was left alone with my remaining family, and the rest of my friends wanted to act cool so they slept in the low hanging branch oak tree. I tried to warn them.

I slept close enough to protect the girls, as they really did not have much experience in camping in the wild swamps, so they would stir at every noise. Me, though not a woodsman, had many years of sleeping outside at the camp under my belt to let the night pass with a light sleep.

But while we were here, there back at the house...

An older woman, maybe in her early fifties, was making the rounds in the neighborhood. Did she live there? No. But her and the passengers of the car will be. But my across the street neighbor would report that she passed my house a few times, stopping for a minute before moving on. This was odd on a Sunday and did not go unnoticed.

TBC

View a list of all my stories here

To taste Heaven, one must play in Hell.


Offline Writers Bloque

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Reply #1 on: October 14, 2023, 11:30:33 PM

Monday Morning.

I was woken up from my heavy slumber as the sound of rumbling and the tell tale sound of a backup alarm resounded in the humid morning air. We all were taken by surprise as a crew of workers were already working, making sure the first half of the trailer was installed properly. And of course, the men of the group were asked to help as a few of their crew were prepping the other half for delivery. So while we toiled in the early morning sun, the ladies were making breakfast. My wife catches me as I am helping set the strap down bars into the ground, and she filches my wallet to go to the "store."

Not that this place was so far removed to not have a decent grocery store, but this place was a true grocery store, selling nothing but food for people and animals alike. I allowed her to take the walled from my back pocket, cause she was going to get it with or without my permission, since she did not drive here. The first half was set and it would be half an hour before the other half would arrive so we all took a break, eating the good food the girls cooked up. After clean up and taking down of the camping gear for them, the girls wanted to hit the river before it became populated since Ashley was already at her job at the school. The AC people showed up, to install the outdoor unit, since the half of the trailer that had the internal unit was already installed, along with the vents and ducts.

After much more work, and learning how they joined two halves of a triple wide trailer, Noon came, and with it, the electric company came along with the building inspectors to sign off on a completed job and connect the power, which honestly was easier than I thought it would be. The last job was asked of by me to the trailer crew who were packing up to leave.

"Hey man, got a drill and cable floor sheath?"

"Yeah."

"Mind helping me drill the floors in the rooms that are getting t.v.'s  only three."

"Sure. It don't matter, padding our paycheck."

So I started thinking like my dad, who will mostly be using this place, along with family, as to where the co-ax was going, and fifteen minutes later, the house was cooling down and satellite ready. The dish did not even need to be moved. The satellite company had sent a guy out with a main box and two smaller boxes, and I unpacked the small screen t.v.s that would only be there until I hit up the upkeep fund to furnish the place proper. And at two, the ladies returned to a cool trailer, and just collapsed on the soft carpeted floor. Though I did have to run the vacuum a few times to get the clay out of the carpets. The water heater was doing its job, so sewer and water worked, though we had to have a pump that took the wastes to the lift station, since there are no sewers out here.

But I had work to do.

I had to uncurl the chain link fence and dig the holes for the supports again, and that was a bitch and a half to do with a few people. But after the fence was finished, Ashley and her annoying sister Bethany showed up. Bethany was the youngest of the sisters, at a ripe age of twenty-three, she never outgrew her "tag along" stage, since when she was born Ashley was working on starting her own life. But while she is annoying to no end, shes got a gymnasts body, and is very flexible. But like I said, I was already in my teens, a father, and married when she was born. My wife thought it was quite cute when she would follow us around when she was old enough and visited.

So the ladies called dibs on the master bath's shower, and all the girls went into the master bedroom, and locked the door. Us guys used the guest bathroom, and I put soda in the fridge since they would be leaving for home soon. We shot the shit as another crew showed up that I personally did not call for.

"Yeah, so the owner wants a front and back porch deck built. The permits pulled, and we will screen it in. Gonna take a day or two if we start now."

"Go ahead."

I called my dad, and he said that he paid for the porches, since it was a pain in the ass using those narrow stairs to get in and out. I said okay. They were going to also install a wheelchair ramp, for my cousins kid who is wheelchair bound for life. Whatever floats your boat and gets it down the river. Wife was the first out of the shower, all fresh and clean, with a smile on her face. So she went to what I call the Swamp Subway for some late lunch and snacks for the trip home. The swamp subway is a small deli that offers the normal deli fare, but also some more exotic choice of meats. And when she returned everyone was worshiping the AC in the living room as the workers were starting with the back deck, so we can come and go, since once they started on the front porch, we would have to use the back door and walk around the trailer to leave. 

But the real fun began once everyone was leaving.

"Writer, spend some time with Ashley and Bethany, life has been kicking them around lately and they are having a tough go at it."

"Alright dear."

She stepped in close to kiss me and grabbed my hand. In it, she left a strip of condoms. She left with a smile and her hands behind her back in her usually "I am cute, but not just for you." style. Early evening was setting in, and the porch crew had the frame and some of the floor of the porch installed, and they left, as driving in this area at night was risky at best, even if you knew where to go and how to get there. I decided I wanted some more bbq for dinner, so I caught the swamp bus. I add swamp to alot of things in this area, as there is no public transit out in the sticks. The swamp bus was usually someone going to town after the sun went down, usually for beer or dinner, and you catch a ride with them, but they drove a side by side with a modified trailer attached, so you can carry your idiot friends too. The cost, a beer. So I waited at the land bridge, and right on time, the swamp bus came.

"Going to town?"

"Yup."

"Where to?"

"Billy's"

"Well shit son, so are we, get in, but the first round is on you."

"Sure."

I hopped in, and the not super slow, but not fast trip began.

Billy's was not the place I took my family and friends. It can barely be called a bbq joint. It was a bar, gentleman's club and bbq place. BUT in order to keep it open, and out of the view of the heavily religious groups, they stuck it outside of town, in an area I like to call the "poor swamp." If rural areas like this had ghetto's this place would be it. This is where land ownership was so murky that it would take a decade or longer to sort out who actually owned what plot of land. And sometimes just squatting was accepted as ownership. Power and water were sometimes non existent, practically the image of poor swamp people living in shacks. But Billy's was different. Billy's was the Male Holy Ground. Where if you had a couple of dollars, and played nice, your night would be great, get stupid and fuck around, you will definitely find out what disturbing the peace really means. This place was stacked to the ceiling with myths and legends, where many a young man would lose his way in life to discover. Wanna get laid? supposedly there is a secret brothel. Wanna get drunk, ask the third older man sitting at the bar, and he will get you drunk. But sadly, reality is boring. There is no Brothel, nor any gentleman willing to get an underage boy drunk. But it is an experience, eating ribs while watching the new young thing dance topless, as fully nude was where the town drew its line for Billy's, but Billy did like to fuck around, where the town said only half the woman can be nekkid, Billy never asked which half. So sometimes, you can see some sweet cooters and growlers if you come at the right time.

But I was there for dinner, as I was not comfortable with Billy's new trend in dancer hiring. He hired a dancer that was shaking her ass on stage to def's song pour some sugar on me, who looked awfully to young to be there, but when I asked the waitress if Billy was robbin the schools for dancers, she replied that that lady is thirty and a mother of three.

"Bullshit."

"its true, Sue uses makeup to hide the C-section scars."

"Your shittn me."

"I wouldn't shit you, your my favorite turd."

Still I did not feel like watching the mommy dance, so I ate my dinner, and bought the beer for my ride. The best secret about the swamp bus is that you never got the same ride twice. So while waiting at the exit of the parking lot, one of the commissioners pulled up in his swamp killer raised truck.

"Goin home?"

"Yeah, just wanted some dinner."

"Same, wife is in the hospital and would kill me if she caught me here, so hope in, I will drop you off."

"Thanks."

I had to climb up and then into the bed of the truck as the cab was full. The most important rule of Billy's is: Deny ever going there, and never talk about what's going on and who was there. There was nothing illegal going down except a card game or two, and the chooch showing, but still its one of those places that your wife would by law, be legally allowed to kill you for going to. And also the fighting ring out back, where drunks who like to start fights are sent to fight it out. But yeah, don't get caught there if you value your life at home.

The trip home was faster than the trip there, since the truck could easily drive through the swamps rather than avoid them. The commissioners had put reflective strips on trees in the swamp to mark the best paths to take when bogging. So we arrived as the Joneses where having their domestic dispute. Old man Jones thinks hes still a stud, and Mrs. Jones had a headache. Mrs. Jones hadn't laid a clutch of eggs in at least a decade. But the surprising thing upon returning to the trailer was that Ashley and Bethany were sitting in the lawn chairs out front drinking my beer. I have to monkey my way down the truck, as my knee and leg would let me go up, but the rapid jumping down was a no no. So I greet them, as the monster of a truck headed down the road.

"Eww, you smell like Billy's"

"You can tell?"

"Its an obvious smell, bbq, smoke, pussy and booze."

"They got good ribs."

"Yeah, but still, Wife is going to execute you."

"True, but you and her would go on ladies night."

"Yeah."

Billy's Ladies night was where his wife took over to give the women of the town who needed to de stress. Shirtless men, free drinks and half priced food. Also shirtless fellers wrasslin. That night men were banned, unless you were serving or entertaining. Like two beefy strong ladies guard the entrances, and would bounce any man trying to get in, right into the swamp. It was a popular challenge among high school girls to sneak in for some adult fun. Get caught and they made it a public spectacle to have your mom spank you in front of the crowd. Don't get caught and you could have a fun time, just don't try to order anything to drink but soda.

"Get in before the mosquitos carry you off."

I invited them in, and the cool air inside felt nice against the hot sticky prickly heat. I turned the radio down, and sat with my back against the bar wall that divided the living room and kitchen. I also thought that I should uproot my family and move them here, since this trailer was pretty sweet. All it took was for me to ask what was up. I will spare the reader the long drawn out details of the two women's life problems.

But what their problems boiled down to was: Ashley doesnt want to date or marry, not for the lack of options, but because there is too much to see and do out there. Not that she is fucking every guy or girl around, but just interested in what life has to offer before settling down and attaching herself to a man. Not that she couldn't get a man, with that body of hers, but still, wants to enjoy life a bit more then settle.

But her sister had a quite different problem. No one interested her sexually. She had boyfriends while in college, but when the time came to seal the deal, she was always put off and would become uninterested. Girlfriends too. She was horny, and always so, but the act just put her off. And she gained the bad reputation as the Great Blue Ball Swamp Queen. The condoms in my pocket left no uncertainty what my wife wanted me to do. As I have said before many times to many people on this site, my wife has friends, and is comfortable with sharing me with them. Its not cheating, but lending a helping cock to her dear friends, I Love my wife, but if she hands me condoms and tells me to help her friends, well the message is clear. Besides, I love Ashley and like Bethany, they are my dear friends too, so its not like they are total strangers, especially the things we did together when we were younger I will divulge in private as to not violate the sites rules.

I listened faithfully, and when there was a pregnant silence in the air, I went and got some more beer. We sat and bullshitted until my watch said it was bed time, as there was more work to do tomorrow.

"Don't you have work tomorrow?"

"Nope, I gave the girls their P.E. finals today, and other than the paperwork for next year, I am off until Friday, as that's graduation day."

"And your classes?"

"Summer break started early when the water pipes broke and the whole campus started to smell like a sewer."

So with that confirmation, I invited them to stay the night. I went into the beast to get my clothes out and the air mattress and pillows. When I returned to the master bedroom, there was a pile of clothes waiting for me, and two naked women in the masters bath. I knew they slept nude. Their parents only made girls, so her father was the only man in the house, and being outnumbered six to one had him avoiding half of the house at night, except to go to his bed. It's too hot in the swamp at night, and AC's were a pricey luxury, so to survive the sweltering heat, you either slept naked, or made a swamp cooler. But that was not the case now, as the triple wide was kept at 76f and that is fucking nice to sleep in. But when they were finished showering, they forced me to shower as I still smelled like sin. Despite the fact that what I was planning to do to them was more sinful than eating bbq at a strip club.

But I was not going to press the issue. It was clear my wife's hand in this, as there were certain products in the bathroom, and they did spend alot of time alone with my wife. So my hunch was that they told my wife their problems, and the only answer my wife could think of was "go fuck my old stud bull of a husband." Which should never be an easy decision to make in any normal relationship, but what we have is far from normal, but it worked for us. So I laid there, opting not to inflate the annoying air mattress, as it would take awhile. So One more trip to the SUV, to get my mom's hand sewn blankets, to make a bed on the floor to basically fuck on. When I returned the ladies were playing rock paper scissors. I piped up and said why wait. As my boxers dropped and my cock sprung forth.

Most men will embellish their penis size, but thats not my game. I dont need to be shy about it. It made me three daughter and a son, so my tool done its job properly. But, the look on their faces was priceless. They never seen one up close, as stated before, they never got past the underwear stage. Or they might have and not seen one like mine. Its fatter, between 7-8 inches long, depending on which method you use to measure it. I choose to measure from the actual start of the cock, not at the base, but pushing the ruler in a little, where the urethra meets the other stuff, kind of uncomfortable, but that puts me at 8 3/4 inches. but if I did just the base, then it would be a centimeter or two off from 8, and going by how my urologist measured it when I passed a kidney stone that made me wish I was a woman, it is a solid 8 erect. I am a grower, not a shower.

But those looks, made it look like I was Jason Vorhees and my cock was a machete ready to cut them down. Now dear reader, this is going to be embellished, as if I posted what really went down, it would be tame enough for a fade to black scene on tv. I did in fact fuck them both that night, and while face timing my wife, because it was a sexy comedy of errors, since they did not have much sexual experience, except from porn and such, they turned to my wife who was their coach that night. Besides, I think this was part of the plan. And I think my wife likes to watch me rail her friends, in a perverse "I am the Alpha who takes that cock on a regular basis." kind of way. Maybe she likes the look of surprise on her friends faces when I first penetrate. Not sure since she never tells me why clearly.

So as ordered from that magic talky square with my wife's face on it, I let them explore me a bit, to see if they are ready to enjoy it. I did not mind, as it was kind of fun, having my cock played with, and despite the decreased sensations in it, their licking was nice, that is until it was fully hard. The scars on it had faded, but not entirely gone, and sometimes it is a little turn off for those not familiar with what happened to me. But since they talk online or on the phone at least two to three times a week, they know the deal. We were relaxed, fooling around with each others bodies, working our selves up to a sexual fervor.

Pause.

Here I have to make mention of one cock softening fact about these girls, and why we did not get sexual with them in our youths. They are cursed. Not like a witch or shaman kind of curse. Not a curse that if you fuck them you will be struck like lightning. No. They and their sisters are widely known as a deadly mix of everything radioactive that exists. The reason: Their 398 pound father, who along with my dad, both can single handed throw an engine block at least thirty feet. This man makes even the most angry, aggressive man a meek kitten by his presence alone. This man was imposing. But underneath that living meat wall was a jovial man, for everything else but his daughters. The man broke a tree when he hired a boy to cut the patch of grass he called a back yard, and his younger daughter was out hanging up clothes. He stopped to look at her for a second too long and her dad punched a tree, which my dad swears broke like a twig. He tolerated me, cause we are distant kin, and he like me for some odd reason. Maybe because I wasn't making passes at his daughters. But still, the local boys for years lived in fear of the girls, because if all of them were out, their dad was nearby, and for the sake of public safety, it was best to treat them like church ladies and leave them be. That fear was ingrained into me, from the time I was helping him, my dad and grand dad change his muck dredging truck's tires.

The truck was used to gather the muck in the swamp, where it would be sifted, and dried, then mixed with manure, compost and peat and fermented to a delicious smelling fertilizer for the farms in the area to help plants overcome the limitations of farming in that kind of environment. There was good places to farm, but with the water table being so high meant that vital nutrients were being leeched out from the soil, so they made this disgusting smelling blend of fertilizer to counteract that, and it works.

Well changing that tire took longer than it needed to, as I broke the stud by jumping on the four way lug wrench and snapped the stud right off. Not only did my gramps and dad hit me, their old man walloped the shit out of me, and that hurt a hell of a lot more than being smacked around by my family. So I have a healthy fear of the man, but he holds no grudges with me so as long as I don't fuck up, my head can stay attached to my body.

Unpause.

I felt the cold chill of unseen eyes on me. But we were not in view of any windows, and he cant kill me if his girls are of legal, concenting age. But that shiver must have triggered something in them, to encourage them to get a little more adventurous. While they were exploring me, I was playing with their pussies. One was clean shaven and the other was bushy. I wont say who was what, I will leave that to your imagination. You can comment on your guess and I will tell you who was what.

But all this cock play was starting to bore me, so I pulled Ashley on my face. I always wanted to do this to her. So while she and Bethany were playing with my cock and balls, discovering the fun facts about the testicles and its skin, I wanted to taste Ashley. I gave her a test lap of the tongue and she squirmed. So I opened her nice lips up, to discover....

She was still cherry.

"Damn, you must be pent up really hard." I thought to myself as I started to conduct a symphony with my tongue, and played percussion on her clit. Not having felt this before both excited her and freaked her out. She wanted to get off my face, but my wife told Bethany to hold her there. I could feel she was getting close to her climax, so I worked hard to give her a nice one. After screaming her orgasm, she fell limply on me. Bethany helped her roll off,  and replace her. She too was cherry, but I had a feeling she masturbated a lot as she came on my face after a few minutes of tongue action. Both girls were panting, and my wife had a smile on her face. I was far from through, and my boy was hard enough to penetrate the earths mantle. So I wanted to take Bethany's cherry first. There is something sexually perverse and slightly evil about deflowering a woman. Like you are robbing her future husband of his long awaited prize. But in sex, its first cum, first served. So I could have laid her on her back, to take her where we can see each other's faces, but my back and leg hurt, and I did not want to take any pills for it, because I would get bombed out of my mind and lose out on this bit of fucking. I wanted a clear and semi sober head on my shoulders for this.

So I opted to let her ride me cowgirl style so she can control the action. So after a bit of coaching, and maneuvering, she was in the position, squatting over my cock like she was taking a piss. I held my rod up so that the condom covered head was rubbing her lower lips. with some trepidation, she lowered herself until just the head was in. She stopped, commenting on how big it was in her. But my wife said it gets bigger once its all inside. This scared the once fearless streaker, and amazon warrior of the swamps. Her light brown hair flowing in the wind as she ran, jumped from tree to tree, to avoid the water and stuff in it, and generally was brave. She can poke alligators with sticks, but the thought of a fat cock splitting her open scared her to almost tears.

"Shh. Its okay, my dick is soft as your cunt. It might hurt a bit, but the pain doesn't last long."

"Okay..."

"That's the brave woman I know."

I reached up and patted the younger woman's head. She smiled warmly, and lowered herself a little more. Then we found the roadblock. My wife and her sister offering gentle encouragement, as Bethany made the choice herself whether to go all out or stop. I was not going to force the issue, as that would be the ultimate dick move. So when she steeled herself for it, she closed her eyes and raised herself up, and with one quick motion, she dropped, until my pubic hair was tickling her clit. She stiffened up in shock and pain, then the fullness set in. She only squeaked out in pain, and was silent. We stayed like that, as my wife mentioned some blood leaking out of her along with her juices. Under my ass was a few towels I brought as disposable as they were on the way to becoming rags.

After an eternity, the pained look on her face melted away to a new look, as a fire in her eyes was lit, and she herself lifted and dropped herself on my cock. She started slowly, then working herself into a wild pace as she was having orgasms one after the other. She lost all sense of control, as she was becoming an animal in heat, rutting until that itch was calmed down, but her pussy was clamping hard on my cock, and I was afraid the condom would break or come off. I tried to help but she was jackhammering my pelvis into the floor so I just let her go, besides, she was doing the best job of getting hers, with no input from me. I would say it was a good fuck, but the fact was, she was getting hers, and mine was slow to happen because my cock needs a little more than pumping action to pull the trigger, and my wife noticed this and asked Ashley to put the phone to her ear.

My wife said something, but I assumed she was out if it in her sexual frenzy. But I was getting closer and she was wearing herself out trying to get that first blast of man cream in her.

"Writer, use that cock to put a baby in me. Fuck it, I don't care, put a hundred babies in me, its so fucking good."

That dirty wife of mine. Science as proven that during Coitus, the mention of reproduction to a man will trigger his orgasm. While we lose conscience thought, the notion of doing the man's only biological job in procreation will make most men cum, and hard. It is a dirty trick, like a finger in the ass to make a man cum quick.

When she said that my mind broke as my BFC 10000 fired its life bringing shots. I havent at this point really had sex for a week or two, usually jerking off for little loads to scratch the itch. But my balls had to work triple shifts to make this first load. That condom must have been made out of titanium infused rubber, because it stayed in, as my cock plopped out with a pop. I kind of freaked out a little, while Bethany was lying on her back, knees up, feeling her abused cunt, and slowly extracting the condom. It was full almost to leaking, and I took it from her and put it in a grocery bag I was using for light trash. Bethany could not speak, but only mew and moan, as every joint in her lower body ached from the over exertion. I needed a break for a moment, so my wife started to talk to Ashley as she tended to her sister, getting a cream from the bathroom to help soothe her abused pussy. I grabbed a cig from the pack I hidden in my stuff, and the lighter. With a little stretch of the legs I was on the almost completed back porch. The cool night air felt good on my cock as I stood in the swampy air, smoking and recharging the main cannon. That was the nice thing about being in the middle of nowhere. There was two acres of heavily wooded land between me and my closest neighbor. A small distance for sure, but a blocked one. In their back yard you could probably see the roof of the trailer, but not the yard, unless you were prowling around at night, and only those that go frog hunting are about, and they don't stray from the water.

I finagled my way back inside, not opting to go around the yard, because I would definitely be seen as summer in the swamp, the nights are active with people. Snake handlers, and turtle movers, and sometimes poachers. People often around here opt to sleep and rest in the days, and with generators and work lights, work at night as it is cooler. And the road out front is busy at night. So I locked the door, and returned to the room, where Ashley was waiting for me, playing with herself with my wife over the facetime video. I took a quick rinse shower, as I did not want the towels looking like a crime scene.

Still hard, it was Ashley's turn, and I wanted this to be special. I had many questions about how she could still be a virgin, despite having dated a few men. But it was revealed to me, by my wife over the phone that none of her boyfriends looked like they wouldn't "measure" up to her expectations. That cleared up some things. She was a size queen, even if she never had one in her. I think being as close to her as we were left an impression on her. So I started to lay down, and she wanted my back on the wall. She said she wanted to be as close to me as possible. Well, duh, we are about to fuck, if that was not close to me enough then there is a problem. My wife suggested I bring my knees together and let her use my thighs to slide down on. We tried this before, while it was fun for the wife, it was a bit of hell for me. 

So she squat over my thighs, and slid herself down slowly, until the head of my condom covered cock was just resting between those lips.

"You ready?"

"Just do it already"

She slid down as my cock opened her up slowly, engulfing my cock. I met the resistance, and she pushed through it. While it looked like it hurt, she gritted her teeth and leaned forward to whisper in my ear.

"I wanted this for a long time. Since Wife showed up with her baby bump, She looked so satisfied, that I knew. I knew you would be the one to satisfy me. I am glad I waited, this is...."

She stopped as the rest of my cock slid in. The pain was gone, and her face had this far away smile. She seemed to be enjoying it on a whole deeper level than most people would. I crab walked painfully away from the wall, with her riding me. Then began the pelvic thrusts. As part of my PT for my leg and knee I had to do exercises similar to this. With her weight on my lower torso, I thrust up with full power, her clit and pussy lips being smashed with each thrust up. I had to channel all of my rage and lust into this, because I was almost at my limit. But I would not let her first be disappointing. With her slender body, I felt like I was poking her cervix as my fat cock was marking his territory with each thrust. She leaned forward and held my shoulders. This time I am pretty ready to cum at any time, since the angle my dick was at was hitting all the right spots on it and in her.

She was clamping down really hard, signalling to me that she was having a big orgasm, and while I was close, I wanted to explode in her. She leaned back like a rodeo cowgirl, and yelled out her orgasm. Soon after I came, she fell on top of me, which caused me to fall on my back. We all sat up, chatting with my wife, exhausted, but not sleepy.

Outside.

The earth shook. The starry sky darkened with clouds and the sounds of animals running away made the still night air filled with the cacophony of fear maddened animals escaping for their lives. The air was heavy with murderous intent so thick that it was hard for me to stand up to go take a post sex piss.  Mr. and Mrs. Jones escaped to the depths of the dark swamp water. Something was coming. Something that shook the bravery of life and existence itself out of the very fabric of the universe. Not in a car, but on two feet, men he passed would scatter. Even the deputy patrolling the sticks pulled off the road at his passing. His laser sighted focus was a particular property. Word reached his ears that there was someone doing the things that would sign his death warrant. Each step would even still Hell itself. He just looked at the gate on the fence, and the house front door opened, and a girl barely in her twenties rushed out. He turned on his heels and with the woman in tow, an older woman feet away, long given up on being a voice of reason, this monster made his way through the swamp neighborhood like an angry, hell forged mother hen looking for her lost chicks....

Inside.

We had a calmer round two and three, and for the fourth I just fingered them to orgasm. But that feeling that was so oppressive was starting to affect the girls, who scrambled for an unknown reason to toss one of my oversized shirts on each other. I did not know why, but as I was caught up in their scramble to clean up, I noticed the last condom I used on Ashley looked off. I couldn't tell, since I honestly stopped using condoms with my wife and other partners as most of them had tubes tied, on the pill or infertile. So I could not put my tired finger on it. But they tossed me a pair of gym shorts as they sprayed almost an entire bottle of Febreeze in the house, like we just smoked pot or cigs in the house.

That murderous feeling was getting closer. The monster now had four women in tow. None dared to escape, because even if they could, they would be found easily. I heard the squeak of the gate, and the crunching of what was left of the gravel in the yard that used to be a walking path, now mostly covered in clay. I looked out the window in the door, and seen Hell personified walking straight for the door. The porch light showed me that his face was grim and there was no tolerance for even an ounce of bullshit. The girls scrambled to a bed room with my phone, my wife still talking on it, until the monster knocked on my door.

The knock shook the whole trailer with each pound, but yet not damaging anything but my bravado. I almost pee'd myself as I opened the door.

"Ashley and Bethany here?"

"Yes sir, they decided to stay the night to help me tomorrow with my mothers memorial garden."

"You foolin around with them?"

"Sir, you know I am married with kids."

"Doesn't mean shit. Are you messing around with my girls?"

"No, sir."

I said as I stood my ground. I am a man, and this man was not going to hold fear over me. I respected the man, and even loved him as a family member, though distant as he is on the family tree. But what I did in the house was my business, and mine alone. So I invited the gaggle of people in, who respectfully wiped their feet before entering. I had my phone in hand, and since I asked my father to crash at my house until I get back, my dad, who is used to working overnights was up reading in my office. My wife brought him her phone to help keep me from dying tonight.

"Yeah, your girls are asleep in the room. I am up talking to dad about what he wants me to do since the trailer was installed."

I said, pouring everyone some iced tea.

I held up the phone so Sir could see my dad.

Dad, being too quick on the uptake, said hi to his long time friend.

"Hey Jack, what brings you to my new trailer?"

"Hey Harold, my two daughters are over here, and I want to know if Writer was fooling around with them."

"Yeah the boy got around, but you know he has a wife and kids, right?"

"Men cheat all the time."

"Not my son, and definitely not on his wife, she would kill him ten times worse than whatever you could possibly dream of doing to him."

"Still, it smells funny in here."

"New trailers smell bad."

"True, Harold, I just got this feelin a line was crossed tonight."

They conversed for a little while, before my dad said hi to Sir's wife. (I call him sir, because no matter how old I get, he will always be sir.) I pulled out some cookies I was saving for the final day, and served everyone. Then my wife popped up on the screen. She said goodnight to everyone, as the phone was dying on her end. After she hung up, Sir stepped into my threat radius, sending the coldest of chills down my spine. He clasped my shoulder and pulled me in close.

"If I even suspect that you touched my girls wrong, Harold's son or not, I will kill you."

"Sir..."

"Daddy!"

Ashley, the oldest of the five sisters stepped into the room with her hands on her hips. She puffed up like an angry hen and rounded on her father.

"You come chargin over here without a lick of sense. I AM A GROWN WOMAN. EVEN IF I WANTED TO SLEEP WITH WRITER, AINT A DAMNED THING YOU CAN DO TO STOP IT."

When Ashley is angry, the southern drawl comes out. It's cute.

"Yeah daddy, we are women now, not little girls."

Bethany had to add, while their sisters and mother nodded.

"Cant a woman stay at an old friends house without everyone and their brother thinkin that they must be fuckin."

It did not help that the only thing she was wearing was the t-shirt, and also a faint shimmer of the juice trail from her well fucked pussy. I dont think he noticed, but I think her sisters noticed. Her mother was hiding her own rage by drinking her tea. She was a woman to be feared. If the brute strength of Sir was scary, her justice and discipline was worse. She did not take any shit from anyone, but being dragged around late at night to round up their daughters was the last straw, and it was showing. I think Sir's only fear was her. My mom used to send me to her when she could not think of a punishment strong enough to get the point across.

Example: That police chase. We went to the camp after, and this woman ran me ragged, rode me hard and put me up sweaty. If I was scared of Sir, I was more terrified of her being angry. The tinkle of the ice hitting the bottom of an empty glass was the signal. This woman sat the glass calmly on the table, reached into the fridge, past the beer, soda and lunch meat, and grabbed the bottle of Dewars I was leaving for my dad to drink on his visits. She opened it up, and chugged a fourth of the bottle before closing it up and putting it in the fridge, and everyone between her and her wayward husband moved out of her way.

"Listen here you sonofabitch. They are grown enough to get married and have kids of their own, but they cain't  cause you put the fear of GOD and Jesus into every dick within ten miles of here. What are we supposed to do, raise our daughters to be some backwoods spinsters? Shit, you are lucky they aint lesbians by now. Now thank Writer for letting them stay the night, and lets go home to bed, where normal folks are right now. If Writer wants to fuck 'em and his wife too, then they gots my blessin. But its about time you learn that the more you hold them down, the harder they fight to be free. Now git before I put a hurtin on you that the whole world will know."

Not a single word was said, and their sisters silently waved goodbye as a now shrunken man left with a woman who was hot enough to melt plastic. We stood there dumbfounded for a few moments, and when they were good and gone, I closed the front door and locked it. Then we busted out laughing as we walked to the master bedroom, tired, but with enough energy for one more round that night.

The rest of the week was pretty busy, the landscapers were sodding the yard, I did in fact build a memorial garden with Ashley and Bethany, and of course we fucked every night. But to keep it from looking bad they slept at their house on thursday night, as I had a crew coming in to repaved the ramp to the slough. It needed to be redone as it was cracked and worn on Friday. I spent friday afternoon fishing, while some hunters were killing beavers to keep the slough clear. Saturday found me at the farmers market with a list from my wife and me, along with Ashley and Bethany walked around together. They were close to me, more than usual. And once we were done, I decided to take them to dinner. I drove to the nicest restaurant in the town, the Olive Garden. Yeah, laugh it up, but small towns get the shit end of the stick for nice dining spots. After eating and drinking, we ended up back at the trailer, with both women tearing at my clothes.

We fucked all over the trailer, as it would be awhile before I returned, since the furniture delivery happened on thursday, the trailer was decorated nice and simple, because my family with all that come here are no where near froo froo.

Sunday morning found us tangled in bed, and I woke up to cook the last meal and fed two naked and hungry women. I never get tired of seeing a naked woman who just woke up (wish there was a picture category here.) We ate, and I fucked Ashley in the kitchen raw, while she was doing the dishes. She swore up and down it was a safe day, so it was all good. It was not like I wanted to spend twenty minutes to go get more condoms, so after filling her up, I was still a bit horny, and I took Bethany on the back porch, while she was reading a book she bought. I fucked her raw too, leaving her a present to remember me by. And after all the cleaning, and straightening up, I kissed them goodbye, and after cutting the power inside and at the pole off, I locked the breaker box, left the keys in the fake rock in the memorial garden, and locked the fence. I bid farewell to the camp, as I had things to do back home. I drove the girls home, and got a stern look from Sir when they exited the vehicle. I waved goodbye and left the camp in my dust.

The drive home was pleasant, and I thought it would the the last time I would see Ashley and Bethany, and I did hope they found good men to settle with. Boy it would turn out how wrong I was.

I was making the turn onto my street when another evil presence made my skin goosebump. My wife and my dad were in an argument as I pulled the almost military vehicle into my driveway. My friends rushed the vehicle and something was up.

"There is the homeowner now."

My dad pointed out, with that old look of his from when he used to cover some things for me, like I owed him one.

In the middle of my yard in heeled pumps and dressed in a nice business skirt and jacket.

"Ah, a reasonable man. Look I will make this simple for you. Sell me your home now, and I will pay three times its value."

The woman's words sounded like honey coated poison. There was an implication and inflection of a threat if I didn't. I looked past her to her car where three brawny men stood. Sizing them up, they reminded me of those movie goons, all brawn no brains.

I had to choose my words carefully. Because three times my property's value would put it at three quarters of a million dollars. Not an amount to sneeze at. It was tempting. so I looked at my friends and family, and then to the sky. After I thought about it, I spoke the words that would be the opening salvo of this battle and most vicious part of the war.

"Fuck no."

TBC

 

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Offline Writers Bloque

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Reply #2 on: October 15, 2023, 06:32:52 PM
Alright Dear readers, clarification time.

Here is the order and ages of the sisters and why I was friendly with Ashley and Bethany.

Ashley - 40 Known her since I met her when she was two and I was three. Pics of us getting baths together as infants in a wash basin on the porch exist, despite my efforts to eliminate them.

Dee - 39. We never really hit it off, as by the time she was old enough to really play with, but I was personable to her, but I always felt she just did not like me.

Christy - 37, Born after a cancer scare, I did not like her. She made it her point to annoy us, and we had to watch her, killing any fun plans.

Caroline - 35, Ill tempered and wild. Always pissing someone off, and always fighting. Never got along as her favorite game growing up was nut checking me. Got a cunt punt from me that stopped that shit. Though her daddy was not pleased.

Bethany - 28 The youngest and last. Although annoying, it was never malicious. She just wanted to be part of whatever the older kids were doing.

And the last point I need to clear up, was that I was thinking it would be a long while before I would meet up with the sisters again, but in the mean time I hoped they would find good men and settle down. But that would turn out to be a mistake.

On with the next chapter.

"Fuck no."

I said flatly.

"I didn't get that."

She said acting like she did not hear anything but yes.

"I said no. I have a mortgage, and kids in college, there is no way in hell i can afford to move, let alone find a house suitable with the amount you are offering."

"But this is a once in a lifetime offer."

"I really don't care. You could offer me a golden palace, and a harem of women to lick my dick all day, and I would still refuse."

"Writer."

My dad chastised me for my coarse language.

"I don't think I made myself clear, you will be selling me your house, but either we can play nice, and you take my offer, or I get your house and leave you with crumbs."

I


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Offline msslave

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Reply #3 on: October 15, 2023, 11:14:30 PM
Well crap on toast. So you nailed your Mormon neighbor in the ass wearing a ski mask while being video taped. Next your friends got him again over the pool table while Mrs. Writer and friends had their way with Mrs. Mormon.

Now we move to the swamp. Everyone has a good weekend and go home. The Mormon now even looser.

Writer stays with two aging (for the south, over ,15 ;D) virgins. Deflowers both the first night while Mrs. Writer.watches on the phone and coaches the women on the best techniques.

The most fearsome man in the swamp arises from the marsh looking for his wayward daughters. He confronts Writer who lies through his teeth and say the ladies.are pure. Meanwhile swamp monster's wife and other daugters watch as the juices of romance drip down the legs of wayward daughters.

Wife of Swamp.Monster chews such a chunk from him for being too over protective that he may now be looser than the Mormon. Smitten SM and gaggle of females leave.

This begins several more days of debauchery as the two now completed woman try to see if Writer's balls will fall off from top much sex.

Writer crawls from the swamp wondering how long it will take before he can service Mrs. Writer again. Upon arriving home with only one woman to service and maybe a needy Mormon, a new problem is waiting.

A fierce some woman is waiting wanting the Writer homestead. She's backed up by some brutes who are standing by and chewing on nails for fun.

Will our hero's dick of renown save him from this new problem or will more drastic measures be needed. There are a couple friendly gators a couple hours away.

Hope I summed this up correctly.

 F**k Writer, why don't you have a TV Reality Show? :emot_laughing:



Well trained and been made compliant....by my cat Neville


Offline Writers Bloque

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Reply #4 on: October 16, 2023, 01:03:18 AM
Well crap on toast. So you nailed your Mormon neighbor in the ass wearing a ski mask while being video taped. Next your friends got him again over the pool table while Mrs. Writer and friends had their way with Mrs. Mormon.

Now we move to the swamp. Everyone has a good weekend and go home. The Mormon now even looser.

Writer stays with two aging (for the south, over ,15 ;D) virgins. Deflowers both the first night while Mrs. Writer.watches on the phone and coaches the women on the best techniques.

The most fearsome man in the swamp arises from the marsh looking for his wayward daughters. He confronts Writer who lies through his teeth and say the ladies.are pure. Meanwhile swamp monster's wife and other daugters watch as the juices of romance drip down the legs of wayward daughters.

Wife of Swamp.Monster chews such a chunk from him for being too over protective that he may now be looser than the Mormon. Smitten SM and gaggle of females leave.

This begins several more days of debauchery as the two now completed woman try to see if Writer's balls will fall off from top much sex.

Writer crawls from the swamp wondering how long it will take before he can service Mrs. Writer again. Upon arriving home with only one woman to service and maybe a needy Mormon, a new problem is waiting.

A fierce some woman is waiting wanting the Writer homestead. She's backed up by some brutes who are standing by and chewing on nails for fun.

Will our hero's dick of renown save him from this new problem or will more drastic measures be needed. There are a couple friendly gators a couple hours away.

Hope I summed this up correctly.

 F**k Writer, why don't you have a TV Reality Show? :emot_laughing:

Well, my last post was an error, my browser burped. Those gators are photogenic. Maybe one day you and your camera can catch some swamp scenes. My dick might not be enough, Im posting the rest where it got cut off. Not my finest moment, I really shouldn't have said fuck no, but I was coming from the swamp so I can be forgiven. Virginity in that area is so common. Because the closeness of families you might not realize your fifth cousin three times removed. And also swamp church ladies are fierce. But generally the boys in that area go elsewhere for the poontang, because the girls talk alot.

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Offline Writers Bloque

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Reply #5 on: October 16, 2023, 01:07:07 AM
Alright Dear readers, clarification time.

Here is the order and ages of the sisters and why I was friendly with Ashley and Bethany.

Ashley - 40 Known her since I met her when she was two and I was three. Pics of us getting baths together as infants in a wash basin on the porch exist, despite my efforts to eliminate them.

Dee - 39. We never really hit it off, as by the time she was old enough to really play with, but I was personable to her, but I always felt she just did not like me.

Christy - 37, Born after a cancer scare, I did not like her. She made it her point to annoy us, and we had to watch her, killing any fun plans.

Caroline - 35, Ill tempered and wild. Always pissing someone off, and always fighting. Never got along as her favorite game growing up was nut checking me. Got a cunt punt from me that stopped that shit. Though her daddy was not pleased.

Bethany - 28 The youngest and last. Although annoying, it was never malicious. She just wanted to be part of whatever the older kids were doing.

And the last point I need to clear up, was that I was thinking it would be a long while before I would meet up with the sisters again, but in the mean time I hoped they would find good men and settle down. But that would turn out to be a mistake.

On with the next chapter.

"Fuck no."

I said flatly.

"I didn't get that."

She said acting like she did not hear anything but yes.

"I said no. I have a mortgage, and kids in college, there is no way in hell i can afford to move, let alone find a house suitable with the amount you are offering."

"But this is a once in a lifetime offer."

"I really don't care. You could offer me a golden palace, and a harem of women to lick my dick all day, and I would still refuse."

"Writer."

My dad chastised me for my coarse language.

"I don't think I made myself clear, you will be selling me your house, but either we can play nice, and you take my offer, or I get your house and leave you with crumbs."

I laughed deeply. Which house was she referring to? Mine, or next door? I mean I still technically owned the house next door, but my neighbors are renting to own it and have not been late on a payment, and are two years off from owning it free and clear.

"Are you talking this house or next door? Because the subdivision hasn't set in yet."

I filed to start the subdivision process, so I can sell that house to the renters out right, so they wont feel like I am ripping them off. The county appraisers had already marked the new property line, but something about the next property tax cycle before it becomes official. In March, I did receive the new land title and deed, and in November, I get to pay the normal property tax, on top of my grandfathered in tax, yay! But it will take some time for the bureaucracy to get off its ass and finish the job.

"Well both."

"Fuck that, fuck you and the horse you rode in on."

"Even if your offer is nice, with both you would have to offer at least half a million. My house was valued at 220k, since I made major improvements to the house and land, and next door is valued at 190k with just the house, and 130k land alone. So unless you can drop at least 600k to pique my interest, then no deal. And good luck if you think you can worm and weasel it from me, I have an angry older lawyer who would tie you down in court so hard, you will offer to pay for a second visit. Now if you will be so kind, take you and the escaped gorillas you brought with you and kindly vacate my property before I have to involve the law."

She was visibly shaken, probably the first time someone rounded on her, and I can be intimidating when need be. She just backed up and turned to hurry to her car.

"This wont be the last time you see us."

"Counting on it."

She got in as the goons fit themselves back into the little car, and with burning rubber they peeled off. My wife was watching in a slight shock. I mean I never had to use my imposing nature, as she would rebuff the angry bear to a meek teddy bear. My dad just smiled as the small crowd talked and dispersed. I had the girls unload the monster, which dwarfed my Expedition a bit, sitting side by side. I was worn out, not from the trip but having to use my super dick mode. On the table was all the information the woman gave to my wife before I arrived and after a shower and sandwich, I looked through it.

And what I learned.

Apparently the influx of members of a certain religious group to the area was from one church out west. A google search or two taught me that that churches tax status was running out, and they seemed to be in financial trouble. So I called an actual friend who is in the local chapter I guess of the church and he informed me that their church was helping the other's congregation find a new home before the end of the year when the other church would have to close its doors forever. He hinted at the possibility of mishandling of money among other rumors floating in his circle. I informed him about what happened, and he told me to be careful, that woman was a prominent member of that church and a shark of a real estate agent. That left me with questions and the answers I got was that the church out there had a large following, but was not very popular or well liked in their area.

So they wanted to go where no one would know or care about them. I mean the city had many, many churches here, a couple of Temples, and Mosques. Hell we have a huge Hadji Shrine, whatever the fuck that was. It was next door to a catholic church that used to have an awesome event this time of year, the Round up, They actually built a wild west town on the churches land and had a weekend of fun and games, and even gunfights, using blanks and such. Could even rent period style clothes, though a man of my stature usually wore either Miners clothes or simple townfolks clothes, though the wife chose the Madam style dress, with the long dress and even the silk fan and little hat. I wanted to be a gunslinger, but I am not quick on the draw enough. I remember taking my kids and how cute they looked trying to imitate the dancing girls on stage outside doing the Can Can (its the Infernal Gallop, people, from Orpheus in the Underworld.) Basically it was a great weekend for charity.

So after this encounter I set it on the backburner of my mind and resumed life normally. The next week was basically me piddling around the house, with the girls lazing around on their earned summer break. Nothing major really happened, and apparently the woman had finished her rounds of offering money for houses, and since not many people took her up on it, we thought the situation was over. That Hubris would stab us in the back.

The Play Lot.

Since forever there was a four acre plot of land that no one owned, or no one remembered who owned it. The neighborhood would take turns keeping it clean, and it was another place kids could play, or even picnic, and on the 4th of July, launch fireworks on, granted, if you cleaned up your mess. The neighborhood tried petitioning the county to find the owner so we all could chip in to turn it into a proper park, not a very big one, but safer.

Saturday found me taking a break from the preparations for our trip to Texas. We would be flying into Fort Worth and driving almost to Abilene then cutting north for an hour. Got family in those parts. But I was done packing my things for a week, while the girls were deciding what best to wear in Texas in the summer, and I said just pack for as if you were going somewhere were it gets hotter than here in the summer, but drier. So to the mall everyone but me went. My bank card went cause he goes where they go apparently. So I made my round around the neighborhood, my knee and leg needed to be walked out hard, since I will be missing a rehab appointment. I of course hit every lemonade stand, and even the wandering Girl Scout squad with wagons of cookies. Gonna need munchies for the trip. But as I was nearing the lot, a normal place I do not pass, since its on the other side of the neighborhood, and in a direction I dont travel much, a group of Random Neighborhood Kids was sitting on their bikes bummed out.

I knew who they were, but I am lazy and I don't want to name every child present. The source of their sorrow was that the lot was fenced off, and a big sign stating that a church was to be built there. That shit sucks. The county could not find the owner of the lot, and now its being built on. I figured what happened. We drew too much attention to it, and since no owner could be found, a loophole allowed someone to snatch it up from the county at land value. Right. Sure, sell it to the church, but heaven forbid some people want to turn it into a park. This was utter bullshit. So I hefted a clot of clay that was piled up, since apparently the church was in a rush to build, not even leaving enough time for the ink to dry, and I lobbed it at the face of the woman on the bottom corner of the sign.

The kids cheered and left to find something else to do, and I finished the loop, and returned home mad. I finished packing the last of my son's stuff in travel trunks, and found his skin bin. I chuckled and placed it on top of the last trunk with a note:

"The real thing is much better. - Love, Dad."

Was I messing with him? Sure, but he is my son and what much else are they good for if not to tease? I knew he was sexually active, but still, a jab at him made my day. His room was cleaned out, and I vacuumed and aired it out. The teen boy smell still lingered, much to my disgust, so I febreezed the hell out of it. I wrote on my "Next Project" list to take the carpet up, and lay laminate flooring before doing whatever I wanted with the room. He told me he was making a life and might not return, but for visits. Good on him. I was worried about how awkward it would be if we brought Mimi, but my fears were settled when I called my son, and he said he broke up with her a month after leaving, and it was a clean break. He knew I adopted her, so I had another personal joke to rib him about. So finishing the rest of the prep work, I moved the beast into the backyard garage, armed the security system on it and the garage, really for the first time in forever, I drained the pool and hot tub, and closed them off. My neighbors could use it if they wanted, but they gotta fill it and empty it. I moved the furniture onto the screened in porch and locked the back gate.

Dinner that night was a pizza or two, and an early bed, since we had to be at the airport really early to get through the checks and securities of flying.

We made it with time to spare, so we ate at the airport and sat by our gate with a lot of crap to have loaded. We checked in, and I was left to assist in having the cargo loaded onto the big cart to be put on the plane.

The flight was uneventful, until we had to land in Mississippi due to mechanical issues, but the layover was only an hour, and we sat until another plane was provided. Then we were in Texas.

The Texas trip was fun. We got to ride horses, and I got to learn how to herd Steer. My cousin let us crash at her ranch, which was a stones throw from where my son worked, and we all had a blast, and I officially delivered the rest of his crap, and after graduation, I handed my son a check for fifteen hundred dollars. He asked what it was for, and I told him flatly that it was what was left in the bank for his vehicle fund, and what I added to it so that he can have at least a bit of ease for starting his life. He cried and hugged me. This rugged man hugged me with tears in his eyes. I hugged him back and patted his head, as I was not seeing a growing man, but the little boy with the missing tooth smile. I told him I was proud of him, and he introduced me to his fiancee which threw me for a loop. She was a nice girl, a real wisp of a girl, except in the chest area.

After the family dinner, I walked to the old barn, a place I knew decently. I pulled up the floorboard by the door, and found an old bottle. I opened it and took a deep swig. Then I made a mark on the back of the board. Family traditions said that a father parting ways with his son would come out here and drink the bitter, but satisfying liquor. The bottle was without label and any markings on the dark brown glass. Each mark on the wood was from a dad sending a son into the world. My dad did it, as I recognized his heavy mark. The booze was an unknown type, overly bitter, but an undertone of sweetness, just like parting with a son. Soon the bottle will be empty, probably will end with my cousins or son, but I liked that tradition my dad reminded me of a long time ago. I swore to replace it if it is empty with something worth drinking, like a bottle of Walker blue label or Cabo Wabo tequila.

We left Saturday evening, as it would be cutting it close to making our flight back home after this poignant week. The rental driving nicer since it was not loaded down, and we made it back to Fort Worth with four hours to spare before our flight. I checked the car in, and we rested until we bid goodbye to Texas.

But what happened during our trip would cause this brewing feud to boil over.

The Lot had problems. The construction crew found a l long hidden secret. The lot was actually an old gas station. When the neighborhood was small and the road it was on was a main road. The first problem almost cost them a bulldozer. No one removed the old gas tank in the ground, and it had rusted too badly to support a multi ton machine. Second, the old owners just dumped dirt over concrete when they tore the station down and now they had to dig up even more land, as the old oil and grease clotted in the ground and had to be dug out. It was one problem after another, and that delightful real estate agent failed to buy the land behind the plot, since its a small strip mall on the edge of the neighborhood. So the parking for the church was not going to happen. The plots on either side was not budging, since one was a group home for disabled people and the other is home to a nice family from Jordan. So the picture on the sign was a lie. It showed a happy scene of kids playing in the front, a family picnicing and a wide open area around it.

You see where this is going, right?

The woman got desperate. I did not know why she wanted the homes on my street, and as I was in Texas, I did not care. Our homes were on the other side of the neighborhood, and from the stories the neighbors texted me, apparently our block was juuust the right size for their church, as if we all were supposed to smile and just give up our homes to be homeless. So until the most pressing issues were resolved, construction was on hold.

But she was not going to sit on her thumbs. Reports from friends and neighbors said that at night teenage level of fuckery was going on. Broken mail boxes, trash cans knocked over, and cars holding up traffic driving slowly. General asshole behavior. Nothing illegal, or anything that can prove harassment. But what was annoying would become threatening.

When it was obvious no one was giving in, soon became things missing out of yards, and the private school for special needs kids, was held up for half an hour as a semi truck got itself "stuck" at the main entrance to the neighborhood. Driving around to a side street was out of the question, as all but two side streets actually would get them where they needed to go. But unless you knew and lived here, then no dice.

And the worst part of it all was the anonymous large brown envelops that everyone was getting. In them was pictures of husbands chatting with women who were not their wife, among other things that were most likely taken out of context. The big mistake was sending one to Henri. Henri is a Hermaphrodite, but also a drag queen. The pictures showed Tom, his wife chatting with a man in drag. I laughed with Henri about it. Henri was in the picture. I didn't know how much whoever was doing this knew about the people living here, but they did not clearly know enough.

But what waited for me was the absolute worst sin you can do to a man. We got home around noon on Sunday, since the flight wasn't too long. I drove up to my yard to Helen standing on the road waiting for us. Trevor was just shaking his head behind his wife and I seen what happened. Someone made it a point to drive heavy equipment right on my nice lawn, damaging the hard work and effort I put into it. This pissed me off. My yard is not level with the street at all and there is a concrete curb with my house number on it. you would have to purposely drive on it to do the damage that was done. All I got from the neighbors was that a big loud truck was trying to do donuts, but there is walkways and rock lined gardens so they took what they could and tore up what they wanted. But the very worst of it was they trashed my moms rosebush.

My mom gifted to us out of her garden when she was well enough to work in her gardens. I tended to it like it was one of my own children. But it was nearly ruined, and the memorial stone I placed was knocked over. This enraged me. But I felt useless. I did not know who was behind it, but I had my suspicions. A car drove by, and I thought I seen her smiling face as she passed by. So this is how she wants to play the game, well I can be a right bastard too.

I went to my dads house, after unloading the suv and opening the house up. I did not just go. I peeled out in my driveway. My dad was already relaxing with his garage open, sipping his beer as he chatted with his friends. I did not say one word to him as I moved past the group and started to pick through my dads fine collection of chiltons and diesel machine manuals. I found not the exact models manual, but near enough to tell me what I could try to do to fuck it up. I grabbed some tools and my dad sucker punched my gut. I dumbly dropped to my knees.

"We gotta talk."

TBC



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To taste Heaven, one must play in Hell.


Offline Writers Bloque

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Reply #6 on: October 18, 2023, 10:16:42 PM
The Best Laid Plans of Mice and Men, and Angry Neighbors.



I got my wind back as I stood back up. Dad's punch did the trick as my head was cleared, but not my anger.

"Whatever you think you are gonna do, isn't going to work. Tamper with those machines, might stop them for an hour, but then what?"

"......."

"My point exactly."

I was at a loss. The company I worked for might have even sold the equipment to the construction company, but that did not mean I knew anything about them. I fumed as my dad handed me a soda and his friends started joking around. Dad's friends, after hearing about what was going on from me became angry too. So they had given me an Idea. First, repair the damage done, warn the neighbors and bury long gutter nails in the ground pointy side up, on a strip of wood. Second, which would take the most work was to buy rock salt in a large quantity. Go in the middle of the night and just cover as much clay in it as possible. Then start reporting suspicious vehicles, the ones that would hang around the neighborhood. And then, just smile.

Their advice was a jumble in my brain, but I did return home with a better grasp and cleaner idea. I did as they said, putting gutter nails through some wood and buried it. I warned the neighbors, who oddly were not fazed by it, since they seen the damage. The rock salt thing would not work until sod was laid, and even then there was no telling what kind of grass would be used. But what I did was a bit of a dick move. I looked up local construction codes and called in any violation. They set the parking lot entrance in the wrong spot, I called and so on. I even put a sign up in my yard. "No solicitors."
Which pissed her off, because then she could only stand on the side walk and not enter my property. Even if we were sitting on the porch drinking coffee or conversing with friends. she would take a step and I just pointed to the sign.

The truck showed up, since we started parking in the garage, to confuse the people into thinking we were not home. I also started turning the lights off in the living room and dining room when the sun went down and we ate in the den. But the night the truck showed up was the funniest thing I ever seen.

This matte black raised up truck tried to creep down the street, as I sat in my office downstairs, watching the truck make three passes, and then come in for what the driver thought was the kill. It easily climbed the curb, and I could see the dofus in the cab jack himself up for what he was going to do. The truck rolled forward and even in the house I heard the large, over inflated tires pop as he rolled over the nails, and the idiots dropped out of the cab, only to injure themselves on the nails, and to add the extra fuck you, I called the cops. I opened the front door as the idiots were doing the hurt foot rain dance, and I just watched as the police rolled up, and that's when I struck.

I love talking to cops especially when I am in the right. I walked up to the officer, reported that they are damaging my property, that I did not know them and then showed them the video of the aftermath of their last visit. I had them trespassed, and pressed charges on them for trying to fuck up my yard again, and since the truck was in my yard, with flat tires, they were hauled away and the truck impounded. I did get a stern warning about booby traps, but since the intent was not to hurt people, but trespassing vehicles I was warned and ordered to remove them. But that was not going to be the end of it. Not by a long shot.

I returned to work the next morning, as my leave was over. But I had that feeling that something was off. I greeted everyone with fresh doughnuts, and was warmly welcomed back. Work was going smoothly, and around lunch time I was called by my boss to go to a client and get the paperwork for a parts order that somehow got lost in transit. Not a big deal, happens often when clients have a last minute order or order during the weekend, with a skeleton crew and no one in Parts to handle the order. I told my boss I was taking lunch, not a requirement, but a kind formality, as I am a low level manager. I called my wife and daughters and invited them to lunch at a restaurant near the client, and that feeling became stronger as I got into my Expedition and met them to eat. As we picked our teeth after the meal, my wife got called into work, but since she was closer to the hospital than home, she asked me to take the girls home.

I did not really have the time to drive them home, so they tagged along to the client. Then they stuck around with me for the rest of the day. Being OJT at the company, they already knew their way around the office, and were also greeted like old friends. They were not on the clock legally, but they did pitch in, instead of sitting on my couch in my office. I made copies of the paperwork, and took the copies to all parties involved on our end. The girls were a big help, and were treated to drinks out of the machines. I looked out my window, as was my habit when work was slow and I noticed a car in the drive way of the parking lot. The person behind the wheel was looking at the building intently, and there was a large camera on the seat beside them.

Now I could say that I was going to pull a Bourne here and deal with them, but I was not really in the mood, since my girls were here also. The car found a spot and parked. A man gets out, and lets a younger woman out of the back passenger side. After words were exchanged, the woman approaches the building. She was definitely not dressed for anything but a party, and at 1pm on a Monday afternoon she was noticed. I had a notion what was going on. You know those stories where the good guy is set up? Yeah this felt like that. I mean when security buzzed my office, saying my wife was downstairs wanting to see me, I could hear the disbelief in his voice. A couple of seconds of silence later, the guard spoke freely.

"Unless your wife shrank further, looks like shes perpetually drunk and has no common sense, I don't think this woman is your wife, but she insists on seeing you."

"I just had lunch with the missus, and I know for a fact she is at work right now."

"I can send her away."

"Not yet, first....."

I laid out my devious counter plan to the guard. I could hear the smile in his voice. I pitied the men and women who have to sit long, boring hours guarding this place, and this should give the entire security crew a cure for the boredom. The lady was held waiting for me, as I told him to tell her I was in a meeting, but in the mean time, I had security have the man's car towed, as it was parked in employee parking, and the woman who parks there was on her lunch and is very anal about her assigned spot. Right on time, the woman has arrived and is raising holy hell. All disputes among employees hit me first before I kick it up to HR, a downside to my promotion to manager, as the other managers were far too busy to handle petty problems. This boosted my plan, as it would add time to keep the man and car here till it gets towed.

I came down the elevator, and nodded to the guards who were tap dancing the woman who was waiting for me. But I walked past and outside to employee parking, where the man was now trapped by a co worker going, the co worker who was returning. And the dildo who was up to something. I step through the cars and arrive as the returning coworker notices me.

"Writer, this ass is in my spot."

"I know."

I turn to the man who was in stunned silence as I was now in this threat radius. I activated my ability, "Imposing Stature" and stared the man down for a second, until I knew I beat him, with a tell tale flinch and movement backwards.

"This is employee parking. Move to public parking or be towed."

"I..I can't, I am blocked in."

"Your loss. Random Female Coworker #33, Just wait here a moment, then move your car to my old space for right now. Don't worry about being late, I will cover with HR for you."

A few breaths later, the tow truck arrived, and without missing a beat, the Random Female Coworker moved her car, and the other driver took an alternate route out of the parking lot, and the jackass was raising hell about his car being towed. I stood and watched, making sure the walking idiot did not cause trouble for the tow truck driver. With the full authority of the company and property owner, I had the guys car towed off the property. But now I had a dofus who was now trespassing. So I had the walkie talkie I have to carry when dealing with shit like this, and I radioed security to have the police come and trespass the man from the property. I walked inside, hoping the ground was shaking with each step to further intimidate the man. The woman caught on to what was going on and had enough sense to leave when she heard the police were on the way, but did not get far, and surprise, surprise, she was a hooker that was hired by the ass to get sleezy photos of me, to send to my home to bust it up. As if I would be caught dead handling street meat. I have standards and a strong aversion to catching any of the venereal diseases floating around.

I laughed at the entire thing, as the guards looked less than board, as the man was escorted off the property, and I let security deal with the paperwork. I was laughing as I stepped off the elevator on HR's floor. Normally its doom and gloom, with death lingering in the air, but I had to report the entire situation to the head of HR who also laughed her ass off. I also took up for returning Random Female Coworker, and asked for twenty minutes extra for Random Male Coworker, since he was held up by me from going to lunch. She made note of it, patted my bottom and sent me back to work with a cookie and a smile.

The rest of the day went fine, had to settle a minor dispute between sales and a long time client, who tried to have a discount applied to an order after the order was processed. I smoothed it over with a promise of a nice discount on their next purchase with us. That made them happy, and I got mad at sales, who is supposed to apply all discounts available to legacy clients before putting the order in. Thats why they are legacy clients, as they put large sums of money in our coffers and they deserve discounts even to the point of hurting us. So I asked my boss if I can go chew some sales ass, and she said that she would like a taste of ass, and left to finish educating sales on how to make and keep clients happy. She did not return for over an hour, and I sat at my desk and prayed for the men and women in sales, that their souls pass through easily.

I got a rare chance to go home early, as the girls helped me with paperwork, which made the whole thing easy.

Late June/Early July.

There was not much to note happening, the harassment seemed to die off, and the neighborhood was gearing up for the fourth. Since construction was progressing smoothly on the now "Meeting Hall" instead of the full on church they planned on, we had to find a new spot to pop off fireworks. The Clay Pits. Behind the elementary school and a decent ways away from it was the counties clay pit, one of many in town, but it long since has fallen in disuse, over grown with weeds and trees. But, everyone whose land borders it did not mind the collective idea of popping fireworks down there, since there isn't anything to catch fire down there. So we all set to work every weekend leading to the fourth, and when we were done, we have made a nice place for the families to come down, and blow up stuff to celebrate the fourth.

No one involved had any objections, even the deputy who lived right on the edge cared. He even pitched in when he could, even though it was owned three ways, by the county, the demolition company, and I think either verizon or t mobile, who had a tower down there. No one said word one against it, as long as no one got hurt, or property was damaged. Hell, even the owner of the demo junk pit offered to open the gates for us on the fourth for easier access. All it cost us was beer and whatever meat we burned on the grills. He even let Trevor, Helen's husband snag some old dock wood to make benches to sit on. I think the old man was just looking for company, and soon we had a nice area to do our thing. We spread word to the kids to not mess with it, and they agreed to not mess with what we did. The only Objections came from you guessed it, the Mormon Army. The head count of Mormons was now ten families, including the King of the Mormon's, their pastor. Their objections ranged from the noise, fire hazard, drinking, girls running around in bathing suits and mostly the drinking. They tried their hardest to ruin it, calling the police on us as we would come to and from the clay pits, and the deputy involved made it his point to get that stopped, as we had permission from everyone except the owner of the cell tower and the county, but honestly, the county preferred us to use it for fireworks, due to the lack of fire friendly things down there.

But nothing would stop us, and them trying to stop us, so they decided to do the one thing you should not do.

Fourth of July. 5pm

The rain ended earlier in the day, so we grabbed tarps to set on the ground, and while the grills were going, music playing, the neighbors around the pit hanging out with us, and a grand old time happening, down the ways a bit, something was going on.

The Mormon's were launching their counterattack.

They decided to host a worship service of sorts, not that I am familiar with their practices, I know they are wildly different from the church I know and love. Fully clothed people, in the heat, in the clay pits that reflected heat, were holding prayer and blasting their music and eating stuff that we did not serve, and generally looking at us like we are naked heathens dancing around a bonfire. Boy I wanted to launch all the fireworks I brought to the party at them, not to disrespect their callings, but you hear classic rock, see people legally enjoying beer, and waiting for the next round of nicely cooked meat, while waiting for dusk to fall so we can launch fireworks to celebrate this great country of ours. Even the Mennonites I invited were in cooler clothes, while not showing their body, they were enjoying the celebration, while not drinking, which we respected. They looked at the Mormons like they were a troupe of fools.

My Mormon's were notably absent. They were out of town, mainly to avoid the holiday and direct confrontation with the new mormon order idiots. But when we decided it was time to put rockets to air, thats when the King stepped up to deliver his overly loud service, decrying the evils of the world and such. I swear every word was aimed at me for some odd reason, because I was sitting with my wife in my lap as my girls were hanging out with their friends drinking soda and watching the pretty fireworks.

Of Catfights and Clashes.

Now the show was ongoing, as everyone contributed to the fireworks so it wasnt a quick show. The pastor concluded and I thought they were finished as they packed up to leave. Oh how wrong I was. The ladies of that group were loudly and quite rudely criticizing the loosely dressed women. I mean there is trying to stay cool, or outright flaunting, and the teens had the right to flaunt. My daughter included. Even if I wanted to dress her and Mimi in as many layers as humanly possible, it would not hide their natural beauty much. But I felt my wife bristle in my lap at every snide remark directed at us. I love feeling her bristle, and not being the one her rising anger is directed at. But the first one to speak up on our side was not the young ladies or wives. No. It was the one older lady who was a samurai/ninja with her words. A die hard, born again, Southern Baptist, Mrs. Tonja (Tonya) was the first to comment on ill dressed girls with words that cut through bone. But as she was just in a tank top and shorts, I guess Baptist modesty can fly away when its almost a hundred degrees. She had enough. And this was gonna be good, so I hollered to James to put on a fresh batch of popcorn, as he had one of those popcorn carts, rigged to a car battery. I took all my efforts to keep my wife down, get another beer and set the fresh bag of popcorn stay up.

A lot of what was said was lost in the mortar fire, and some that was not could not be repeated for what was said would make the devil blush. But the Mormon's took the holier than thou stance and called the teens words that have not been used in over a century. This pissed them off as not calling the girls stupid or dumb, but they did not know what they were called, just that it was not good. This riled them up, along with the wives. My wife broke free, and then it became an all out war of words and ideologies. Most faiths and religions were represented on our side, as the neighborhood was a mix of people and their beliefs.

"Shameful Harlot!"

"Pent up Cunt!"

The war of words escalated as an unknown liquid was splashed on a teen girl who was trying to pull her friend away, and then verbal violence became physical violence, and us men held the men of the mormon group at bay. No one but us touches our women.

"I am not drunk enough to handle this shit."

The deputy said as he pulled his flailing wife from the fray and hauled her to the other side of the bonfire to cool off. Clothes were being ruined and it would be pretty sexy if it was not a full on, knock down drag out fight. Someone got some good licks in on the real estate agent, as she was sent toppling backwards over an ice chest and into the wet muddy clay. Bless the man launching fireworks as he was not going to let a mud fight ruin him launching the works. Now clothes were vanishing as the women moved the fight to the mud, and now I was enjoying this. Mud wrasslin, and beer, even old Billy could not pay for this kind of entertainment. I sat on the bench with both the fireworks and mud fight was in my vision, with other men, not entirely brave enough to go into the muck to stop the fight. I swear the mormon men left their wives to fight as the pastor and the others were long gone. My wife rose out of the muck in a victory pose as she and her opponent were naked, covered in a thick layer of clay. But something about the fight was off....

The violence was less physical, not that we could clearly see what was going on, but the sounds were quite different now, as *things* were happening with the adult women. The teens had retreated from the fight when it was moving to the mud, not wanting to be muddy. Which was a good thing, as even if they were legal, they did not need to see this fight devolve into what it was becoming. Heavy muddy clothes were shed, as the ladies, with absolutely, and I mean absolutely no input from us, channeled their aggression into sexual energy, and were make out fighting in the mud. My wife was dragged back down into the mud.

The fireworks and bonfire could only light up so much, and we had to squint hard, as no one had flashlights, but there was tents being pitched and we sent the kids home, as the fireworks were done. Letting the ladies fight/fuck it out, we, as agreed upon, cleaned up the mess, and the grills long dead, were loaded onto carts and hauled out. Once the trash was picked up, and the bonfire doused, the men, not being able to see what was going on the men gathered our things and left quietly.

Tales of the Summer Zombie Woman invasion would be told to future generations. But for now, all the women involved were standing on my lawn, naked, covered in clay and tired. I unlocked the back gate, and escorted them into the back yard. Twenty monsters shuffled to the patio, as I turned on the hose, and sprayed the group off clean, in the light they were a bit less sexier than they were in the mud, and I fired up the hot tub and turned the pool heater on, since they were just cleaned in cold water.

"Get in, warm up and relax. I will bring the phone out to call your husbands to bring you clothes and collect you. For shame. Grown women fighting like schoolgirls, and not where it can be enjoyed by all."

They all cut me the dirtiest "go fuck yourself and die" looks and took me up on the offer. I brought out pitchers of tea and glasses. Was I being an asshole? You are damned right. Fighting like that belongs in a well lit back yard, with chairs and hard cocks showing their appreciation.

Slowly, and taking their sweet time, the Mormon ladies left, but numbers were exchanged in the meantime. Soon it was just the neighborhood women, who were languidly hanging about, and talking. I was cleaning out the cooler, and throwing away the bags of trash from the party. I made my way in, where a group of girls were comforting each other in my den. Did I care? No, I left a bowl of chips for them and retired to my study. Things were feeling off, and ramping up in a direction i could not tell.

TBC

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Offline msslave

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Reply #7 on: October 19, 2023, 02:11:26 AM
Ok... I've hired a production company.

They agreed this will be the hottest reality show yet. All nude scenes will be included. John Goodman is tentatively being considered to play Writer. All other parts will be chosen by tryouts.

Writer will continue to be the shows main.writer, as no one else could believe enough of this to make it sound true.

Oh yes, WOO


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Offline Writers Bloque

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Reply #8 on: October 19, 2023, 03:38:25 AM
Ok... I've hired a production company.

They agreed this will be the hottest reality show yet. All nude scenes will be included. John Goodman is tentatively being considered to play Writer. All other parts will be chosen by tryouts.

Writer will continue to be the shows main.writer, as no one else could believe enough of this to make it sound true.

Oh yes, WOO

It would have to be John Goodman in his prime, the Rosanne days. I did embellish the mud fight, as just a bunch of ladies duking it out in mud isnt really all that sexy. I would like to also cast all of KB for it too, cause the show would have at least 8 seasons minimum with all the things I go through/went through. Important Question: Who is gonna play my wife? I vote Jessica Alba, her Dark Angel show days.

Also the cause of the fight wasn't just the mormon wives being stuck up cunts about teen girls in bikini tops and shorts, but also the fact that some of them mormon fellers were eyeing them up something fierce. We don't take too kindly to polygamy in these parts, and not especially trying to rope our high school girls into it too. *Spits his chew, while his hands are in his overalls.*
« Last Edit: October 19, 2023, 03:44:08 AM by Writers Bloque »

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Reply #9 on: October 20, 2023, 03:19:03 AM
Sinners and Saints

July was slugging along much too slowly, after the Fourth. Work was a nice distraction as the Mormon Invading army was apparently laying low. Well I guess too much had to be talked about for anyone to cause trouble. The meeting hall was almost done, being a simple building, with only a few rooms. But at the end of July there was a storm approaching from the east. Nothing could stand in its path, as it rumbled down the highway on a hot July morning.

Readers, do you remember the odd feeling I had about the condoms? Yeah, they were expired. My wife packed them thinking they were still good. And this is where we pick up, with a hurried phone call from my wife while I was at work and she was on her way to work.

"Writer, get home NOW!"

"Wha?"

"Just get home."

I checked my workload, and I got permission to leave, on the basis that I volunteer for overtime when I return. But a tingle ran down my spine, and I instinctively looked to the east, as dark clouds were in the distance heading this way. I shivered and clocked out for an early lunch, and beat feet home. At home it was a flurry of action, as wife and daughters were cleaning hardcore, not that much needed to be done, but the looks on their faces told me stories.

"Writer, I fucked up big time."

"What did you do?"

"You remember Ashley and her sisters "problem?"

"Yeah, it was fun."

"Maybe I let you three have a bit too much fun."

"Just tell me."

Before she could open her mouth the feeling of fear turned to that familiar feeling of mortal dread. A loud truck stops out front of my house, and the neighborhood shook, as the large, imposing man stepped out, and unhooked the trailer his demonic truck was pulling. I opened the door to see Sir one handed pull the loaded trailer into my driveway. He started to unload it as my father's truck screamed onto my street. My father, came to save his son. I think.

Caroline was being a bitch, accusing me of knocking her sisters up, calling me every name in the book twice until her daddy silenced her with a gaze that could kill a weaker man. Dad got out and helped Sir unload. and Ashley and Bethany ran up to us, to put themselves between me and Sir. But when he and my dad unloaded the trailer, Sir hitched it again and approached me. Expecting to die, I figured I would laugh in deaths face, so I stood tall. But what he did, under the stern eagle eyed glare of his wife in the truck who was keeping Caroline in check, surprised me.

"Boy, I cant prove that you did it, but you are somehow involved so they are your problems now."

He said as he clasped my shoulder with that inhuman strength that would make the hulk jealous.

"Before you pass out, know that I thought of may ways to kill you on our way here, but as my wife said, they are grown women, free to get into trouble as they see fit. But we will not house unwed pregnant women. But boy, understand this. I thought of you as the son I never had, and if you didn't marry your wife, I would have given you marrying one of my daughters a hard second thought. Now if you excuse me, I need to get back to work."

This was the most he has ever spoken to me in our entire history. And I watched in awe as his truck left the neighborhood. My dad just shook his head and left too.

Now I was standing there, trying to figure this out. But then my wife spoke up as she was heading to her car.

"Ashley, Bethany, come with me, I am on my way to work, and we can get this all sorted out."

My wife, who still technically works under the hospital's OBGYN, and emergency pediatrics, would pull a favor or two, to figure this out.

Later that night as I was still at work, doing my overtime thing.

My wife calls me. Ashley is most definitely pregnant, but Bethany isn't. It seems her cycle is out of sync due to hormonal imbalances. But apparently they are a package deal. So the next day, Ashley would put in to transfer to the high school, until she is unable to work, her background was sparkly clean. Though it did leave the other district short a coach. Bethany, well , she transferred to the college in town and it would be a week or two before all of her credits transferred over.

The weekend turned into a huge clusterfuck of room reassignments. And at least my wife was not terribly upset with me, since it was her idea, not realizing I shoot to kill, no blanks in this gun.

Writers personal note:

I had the vasectomy undone in January as I suffered another bout of cellulitis in my testicles and it was causing pressure to build, so it was either lose my nuts or reload the pistol. Not a happy topic, but I knew the risks, and well this was my fault too.

All that really happened was that my son's old room became Ashley's and another daughters room became Bethany's, with both getting some new furniture, since teen girl decor did not fit a woman's style, and Ashley would need a bigger room, until I converted the spare bed room on the ground floor into a nursery.

Despite the circumstances, my wife was pretty happy about having another baby in the house. Bethany proven to be very adept at housework, and Ashley spent the rest of the summer break preparing to go to work at the high school.

But something was wearing my gears down. Call it, with all the respect to the opposite sex, a tsunami in the estrogen ocean. Most people would be like "Writer, you are complaining about having a house full of hot women? For Shame." No. I am complaining because of the canyon wide difference between fantasy and reality. It gets old quick. Between having the house full constantly, the small things that women do that men find nasty, and the fact that I had to spend more money on food than I would have loved too. The water bill rose, the power bill required a second and third mortgage to pay, and my alone time was almost non existent. That and I had an audience when I mowed the back yard naked.

But the semi smooth sailing would not last, though the problems in the house was worked out among them, the threat outside was looming.

Neighborhood Watch Meeting.

I made it a point to attend as this was an official group, working with the sheriffs office. But in attendance, was the frontliner's of the Mormon Army. As people filed in to get their coffee and cookies, they came prepared. They had their table prepared, and at it was the pastor, some church officials and the realtor from how, less muddy. She cut the majority of the room such dirty looks, but would not look me in the eye. I notices there were no women from their army in attendance, save the realtor.

The leader of the watch opened with a prayer, which offended no one, because it brought a sense of unity and peace to the meeting. He addressed the Mormons, and gave them a little time to present what ever the fuck they were there for, after the minutes from the last meeting were read.

And after the minutes.....

The Pastor stood and took the podium. I found it a right time to grab more coffee and more home made cookies. I am a sucker for homemade cookies. Like you can abduct me easily with either free beer, classic rock cd's and cookies. Also Grapico. I am easy. Well he started off with an ass kissy speech about how nice the area is, and thanking us a bit too much for letting them settle the flock there. Last time I checked, it was a free and wide open country, why here? We already have 7 dayers, among other fringe christian groups. But then the Bitch took the podium. and with it brought a speech delivered in the style of the funny man in the 40's with the silly mustache. It started pleasant, but dripping with enough venom to kill a herd of elephants.

"First off, the Hall will be finished soon, but with more of our flock moving here, there are some...issues that need to be addressed. We want to make this community feel like home. But there are some among us that are deliberately rocking the peaceful boat. So the congregation has made a small, minor list of changes we would like to see in practice, to make everyone feel...Together."

Oh boy.

This is where it gets good.

Get popcorn and gather friends folks cause this was going to be a doozy.

So not to have to repeat every stupid thing she said, I will summarize the list, and clarify the audacity of this invading mongrel army.

1. Please, parents of special needs children, who attend the private school, can you be so kind as to arrange a mass pick up at the southern exit to the neighborhood. While the hall will be for family and friends, it cannot be held responsible for anything that might happen to them in the morning, or after school.

This was utter bullshit. Most of those kids cant walk two steps, let alone sit outside in the morning, in a group waiting for the special needs bus. The school pays for private busing, just so kids wont have to be put through any undue stress. The public schools pick up there, and I'm not one for fee fees, but putting groups of normal kids with special needs is just asking for bullying.

2. Halloween is a fun time of year, but can we just have a designated area for a trunk or treat, so that those who do not participate will not feel ostracized for not giving out. It would be much safer that way.

Fuck that. Halloween around her is just as fun as the 4th, minus the mud wrasslin. Some people go all out for it, just to see smiling faces. Hell even some honest realtors will convert unsold houses into haunted houses for Halloween themed open houses. Candy included. Old Lady Tanja makes the best candied apples, despite not believing in the classic spirit of the holiday.

3. While summer is in full swing, I know that some ladies like to wear less clothing to do outdoor chores. But for the sake of public decency can we ask that the ladies and men at least dress lightly, but not showing too much? Some of our young men may be drawn into sinful thoughts.

Hey, Lady Hitler, where do you get off telling folks what they can and cant wear on their property, as long as it doesn't break any laws, anything goes on the land you own.

But every eye in the room was on me. I am not exactly infamous, but still its a joke about me being caught outside in the buff when the paper girl tossed my paper into the bushes and the door caught my robe as it closed. Not my finest moment. But I owned it.

I objected politely. My objection was noted.

4. Christmas lights and decorations. Keep it to a minimum, for those with light sensitivity at night.

Nope, for that I will build a small nuclear reactor to power the lights I will put up this year. Like national lampoons christmas vacation, I will make my house seen from space.

5. Parties in front yards, no booze or loud music.

Can legally drink on your property if you are of age, and not acting foolish. another nope.

6 - 10

Basically stupid crap about lawn care at certain hours, no driving loud vehicles, no ruckus on sunday, and the biggest gall of it all...

They asked us to donate to their building fund, so that if it becomes possible, they can expand on the hall. They don't have a building to fund yet. But the biggest nope was them asking those who lived by the Hall to donate their driveways and the streets to their members on Sunday mornings, or whenever the hell they meet. That got the biggest nope.

But the audience was peaceful, and when the mormon's laid out their plans and merits for the changes, their biggest mistake was letting it come to a vote. While there were Mormons there, who all voted for the changes, there were more of us, and enough of us who were tired of their shit  So we politely voted it down, and they left in a polite huff, with words like degenerates muttered among themselves.

The meeting continued with news, and be on the lookouts, and ended with us departing to our homes. Except I had a flat tire for some odd reason, as the tires were no where near worn, and I didn't think I ran over anything. So I lugged out the spare, and jacked the back up and changed the tire, which was majorly punctured, Funny bitch.

I knew they did it. Because my suv is widely known, and they didn't stab it like you would when you pop someones tire, nope they got into the treads. Costed me eighty bucks to replace. But it was worth it to look at them being publicly defeated and humiliated. Sorry if I did not mention this, but fuck with me, and I can be a vindictive dick.

And if I thought it was going to end with this, I was sorely mistaken.

TBC

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Offline Writers Bloque

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Reply #10 on: October 26, 2023, 01:14:15 AM
The Fall Trials.

Summer break ended with more people moving into the neighborhood, some are nice people while others....

Due to my lack of diligence, I will omit some not so important parts to the story. I will paraphrase what happened leading up to September later.

TBC

i am breaking up the final part of this story into smaller parts for easier reading.
« Last Edit: October 26, 2023, 04:19:11 AM by Writers Bloque »

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Offline Writers Bloque

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Reply #11 on: October 26, 2023, 04:15:32 AM
WB, love you man, but let’s keep your high school daughters out of this, or remove it from “true stories” and go over to the fiction threads.

I know you’re not describing sexual activity with a minor, but it’s just a little creepy. Your story codes are fine, but you say your three daughters are high schoolers. Unless they are triplets, they are not all 18.

I hate bringing it up. Help me help you.

Sorry, ill edit it out, My youngest is the only one left, and is a senior in HS. my oldest and second oldest are in college and my son just graduated HS. Didn't mean to be creepy.

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Offline staci

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Reply #12 on: October 26, 2023, 05:48:03 AM
I have read nothing that bends or breaks the site rules

one of the originals


Offline Pornhubby

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Reply #13 on: October 26, 2023, 05:56:48 AM
I have read nothing that bends or breaks the site rules

We’ll let you moderate then.

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Offline staci

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Reply #14 on: October 26, 2023, 06:10:23 AM
Been there


The Pay sucks
« Last Edit: October 26, 2023, 10:32:37 PM by staci »

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Offline Writers Bloque

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Reply #15 on: October 26, 2023, 06:33:29 AM
It just seems in the story that they are younger than that, and in high school. And we’ve got pretty strict rules about “real life”stories. So if you want to jot down your autobiography, I suggest you just leave the kids out of it. Or move it over to fiction.

Oh No! I hope I wasn't doing that. Again, I apologize, wont happen again. Thank you for the assist, you are the man!

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Reply #16 on: November 23, 2023, 05:01:43 PM
The Fall of Discontent and Noogies.

Things happened.

They always do.

But after the Summer went to take her nap, the Fall came to take her sister's place, and in doing so brought a huge bag of shit to the doorstep.


It started off tame, a fender bender at school, a bank error that put 40 dollars into my account, and the Head of HR at work going on a week long emergency leave. Replacing her was a woman who fully embodied some how a yin/yang of both Misogyny and Misandry. It was not Misanthropy, but a deep down lack of respect for both sexes. She lorded her interim position as if she was the queen of the universe. She targeted me off the bat as if I did not have a plate full, and heading back to the buffet. I had to allow the OJT coordinator to monitor the OJT students for a week, then upper management forced me to volunteer to handle the new parking situation as they demolished an old unused building to make a whole new employee parking. And the icing on the cake was that I was made a sheriff of peacekeeping, as tensions are rising, as they do this time of year, since the company takes a two week break between Christmas and New Years, and we only get that vacation if absolutely every piece of work was done.

That means all orders are filled and delivered, parts ordered, payments paid and filed, all overtime is recorded and all customers asses fully kissed and satisfied. But that is still weeks away, plenty of time to handle all of that, right?

Wrong.

It is Mid September where we are in the story, and only a quarter of the shit needs to be done, finished. A knock on my door has a secretary distraught on my doorstep.

"Writer, you have to stop her, she is on a tirade."

I get up, activating Intimidating Presence, my favorite skill utilizing my size and height.

I walk up to this 4' 9" woman who has the secretary pool in tears, because it was casual Friday, and the weather has not changed, so they wanted to wear sundresses and lighter clothes one last time. I gave it the green light, kicked it up the chain of command and all were okay with it, as it was still 80 - 90 degrees here. Fine, no big deal, right? Nope.

Apparently the substitute queen of HR decided that there would no longer be a casual Friday, because no one was wearing panty hose, or looked the part of professionals. So I stroll up in my khaki shorts and polo top, and CROCS, without socks, because I am a monster, not a demon and asked what was going on, while sipping my herbal tea.

She tore into me about morals, dress codes and ethics that had no connections to the problem she was having with sun dresses and sandals. I sat my cooling tea down, walked over to the space where extra office chairs are kept and rolled two over. I told her to sit down and talk to me like a person, manager and someone two seconds away from pulling a John Wayne on her.

She sputtered at me, as if the word no never existed and she was never stopped. She sat down, and I took my seat and tea.

I laid it out for her. One, you do not have the authority to do anything but push HR's papers until your boss returns. Two, Casual Fridays were a hard earned reward for some brutal work done, and they asked the bosses if one last round of sundresses were okay, and the uppers gave no fucks. Three, you have to separate your ideologies from your work, or you will never sit in the big chair in the office. Four, if anyone else comes crying to me over what you are doing, I will make it my life's mission to take her up the mountain and toss her off of it.

Before she could even speak, my direct boss came out of her office in tennis shoes and a sundress and stopped me cold.

"And if you mess with my girls again, we can take this to the roof."

She said as she walked to the vending machine for her morning granola bar.

That was settled, and the week went on smoothly.

But at home...

I was restless. It was like an itch under my skin that would not go away. It was like every time I took a Sunday walk, there were white shirts and khaki pants everywhere. My friends noticed it too, and we were starting to feel like this was becoming the sequel to "The 'Burbs" Except we lacked a crazy neighbor.  I decided to try my hand at bike riding, and bought a bike perfect for me, I decided to see If my bum leg would allow it. No. I can pedal, I can turn, and stop, but I cant pedal fast, nor for a sustained period. I can go slow and get nowhere fast. So I talked to my brother in New Orleans, and he said he could help me with my bike problem. I did not expect much.

But what I did get was a lego set of a conversion kit. And another weekend project later, and I had a motorized bicycle. I looked at it, and then over to my Norton 850 Commando, and back at it and shook my head. This felt all kinds of wrong. I wanted to pedal and ride a bike, not ride on a bike version of a walmart motorized cart. But I vowed never to snub my nose at anything until I tried it at least once. So the almost cool September Saturday afternoon had me slowly pedaling down the road like a doofus. But my goal was the deli on the other side of the neighborhood, ten blocks away. So I remembered that the engine was a thing, so I checked the display, and turned it on and it was the last thing I remembered doing.

I woke up in the back of an ambulance. I do not remember how I got there, nor was I so inclined to try and recall. The only thing I cared about was why my entire body hurt. I gladly passed out again, and would not wake up until I was being discharged Sunday morning.

The story from witnesses was that the moment I turned the electric motor on, I must have did something wrong, as the bike rolled forward and then went to warp 9.8. I was moving in a straight line right for the curb that stopped people from driving into a four foot deep drainage ditch. I jumped it and was rocketed over it, and my bike went one way, and momentum carried me straight, and true, right into the back of a moving vans doors. Henri, witnessing it, rescued my bike, and stayed with me until help arrived.

That was how my September went, but that was the first act of what would become a legendary shit show.

The last weekend in September was amped up. It was the return of enforced marital slavery, also known as The Big Weekend Neighborhood Yard Sale.

Our streets are too narrow to have proper yardsales, so twice a year everyone sets their yards up for sales. There is parking at the main entrances to the neighborhood, and strong men with wagons and carts attached to ATV's and Side by sides to help ferry people and purchases around for the right price. This was the the biggest deal of the year, where you could make some nice money for things you want, need or to do. The Enforced Marital Slavery came in the form of husbands utter and total submission to their wives psychotic labor whims. There was more gas wasted on trips to hardware stores, walmart, and Sams club, to the point the slaves banded together to form a travel group, and a retrieving group. I was lucky, as I was on the acquisitions team, and did not have to spend my weekend cleaning out and sorting sale items. I did have to spend money for people in my house to also offer snacks and refreshments in our driveway.

I do not think the Mormons understood just exactly how big this weekend would be. They all had a table or two of stuff, like they were expecting a trickle of a crowd.

No, no, no, my dear enemies, my cute little adversaries, you missed the memo.

This weekend, up the highway going north into Alabama, was a tradition, the Peanut festival. and normally we would try to hold out hosting the yardsale until the weekend of the Elberta Sausage festival, they decided that the sausage festival had to be the weekend before Halloween. But the peanut festival was pretty big too. So if you lived on the highway, you could make cash off of the people going to the festivals, and that is always a good thing.

Of course if you lived in the Cola proper, there were other festival weekends in the city. you had the seafood/crawfish festivals, and the Greek festival. But we lived outside of the city proper, and most people going to those festivals just come in from the west instead of north heading south.

I never liked calling what this was, a yardsale. No, for as long as I lived here, it was a true Bazaar. I mean you could find on a single block a nice rug, a bar set, a drink, snack, spices, face cream, and clothes for your kid.

The reason I love and hate this bohemian clusterfuck of a weekend boils down to what my late mother taught me:

"Writer, you a husband now, be careful of what you do to your wife, women hold grudges for a long time."

This weekend for us husbands always proved that point she made. Some women set up a booth to hawk some multi level marketing scheme they got suckered into, and that's fine, but many other wives use this weekend to dole out punishments for the slights of the past year. My wife included. You can hear it every night leading up to Saturday morning, a chorus that would make the wails of the damned in hell fall silent. Now I am not insinuating that wives are abusive. My point is this weekend most wives prepare for, as a boost to their income for the Holidays and they take it very seriously. If you strain your hearing you might actually hear a legitimate crack of a whip.

Terrance, who is one of my life long friends, and his wife Keisha, who was chasing him right up to my driveway as I was passing out what I had bought. He is a tall thin black man, who can pop off a good joke and satire like the best of them. His wife who is a beautician was chasing him down cause he got tired of moving two barber chairs to the "right" position. I tried to hide him, but I also did not want to get caught up in the ball of pregnant fury that is Keisha. Her and her sister were offering to do quick braids, on top of selling things. I told him to jump into the back of Henri's truck, and he did, just as Keisha rounded the corner screaming up a storm, which alerted the other taskmasters, who now were forming a posse to locate their wayward and escaped husbands, who were congregating in my yard to get the stuff they bought, share a beer and relax. When my wife came out to check on what I was doing, it was like a police raid on my house.

You had men scattering like we all collectively committed a major felony. I mean they scattered, over fences, up trees, and I rolled under my SUV. The wives were like that Taylor Swift "Bad Blood" music video, hunting out husbands who were gone a minute too long. And of course I am a villain in this for keeping them on my land, and giving them beer and comfort.

Ever want to know how mad your wife is at you without looking at her?

It's the tone of her voice.

My wife, the sweeter the tone, the angrier she is. She wont yell or cuss in front of others, but when her honey sounding calls to me reached my ears, I was triple downed two story penthouse fucked. My sweet little wife had learned of my quiet rebellion against all this work, and the other wives were pissed at me leading their husbands to freedom and beer. You know, history shows that many revolutions fail. This one failed hard. I could not escape as their was a hunting party around my SUV. I kept egging it on, as I am a god blasted idiot. My wife would use her fob to unlock the SUV and I would use mine to lock it again. I did this to keep them occupied so my brothers in arms can escape. There was no one in my SUV, but they kept trying to get in.

But my wife being infinitely smarter than me (help she is watching me type this out, send help, beer and pretzels!) caught on to my game, since my fob has a range. I don't know the range, but I am definitely in it, and she knew I had to be nearby, and she alerted the other raptors to start sniffing me out. "Clever Girl" I whispered to myself. They left to look for their husbands for all I know. But they did not. They moved around the vehicle and started shaking it. Then they start talking about leaving, and my wife says she will join them. I count to ten then roll out, only to see the wives had moved to places I could not see, waiting for me. And then it happened....

I felt a weight hit me in my back, and using my good leg and him I pivot and moved to fall, but my wife's momentum carried her around me as I pivoted and I almost crushed her into the ground as I fell, but I moved so that my good hip took the brunt of the impact. She was on my SUV's roof, the shaking of the vehicle was used to hide her true intentions. She ambushed me. And soon the others would be returned to work as too much time was wasted on our nonsense.

My wife and others made some nice bank that weekend, but then the cold October would rear its ugly head......

TBC

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To taste Heaven, one must play in Hell.