Paint It Black

Althea Denise Hunter Dee did have a Facebook page. Althea looked at the various photographs and actually felt sorry for the slightly scrawny girl in the photographs. It seemed like Althea's life had revolved around getting high on drugs and very little else. She also had no 'Friends' listed.

"Well, at least we now know where the money came from," Althea mused, thinking of the briefcase of money.

"And why that pickup truck was after us," Samuel agreed.

Joe Tonacetti of Scandurro Construction was frustrated as he looked at the three doors Alan Hackett had painted. The kid had sworn he knew how to paint, but looking at the three doors, it was obvious the kid had no clue which end of the paint brush went into the paint, which end when into the palm of his hand. Alan had painted across the grain on all three interior doors, and the paint had been far too heavily applied.

"Here, kid, here twenty bucks, Go on home, huh?" Joe growled.

"Looks like you could use a painter," Samuel Dee said, looking at the three doors that rested against a wall.

"Uh huh. But let me guess. You know all about painting?" Joe snarled.

"Know enough supposed go with the grain, know enough not try get it all in just one coat," Samuel agreed. "Me? I'd made him sand them off before running him out of here."

"Well then, that's where you can start, hear?" Joe snapped.

"Yes sir," Samuel said and got busy.

At four o'clock, Joe called an end to the day. He fished around in the back of his king cab pickup truck, found a pad of application forms and made Samuel fill one out.

"I uh, man, no references?" Joe asked.

"Worked for my dad. But he died and business was already going bankrupt," Samuel fed Joe the fabricated story.

"Shit, that's rough, kid," Joe said. "All right, be here at seven tomorrow morning, huh? Oh, hey, know anything about rolling dry wall?"

"A little," Samuel said.

Each morning, a still quite sleepy Althea would make her man a breakfast of eggs and bacon and coffee. Then she'd fill a thermos full of hot coffee for him, stretch up and kiss him, then waddle back to bed.

Coming home each late afternoon, Althea would greet her man with hugs and kisses, then urge him out of that day's sweaty clothes and into a hot shower.

When Samuel would come out of the bathroom, he would find his Althea waiting for him in their bed, wearing only a seductive smile. They would start off with hugs and kisses, then she would straddle his head, then lower her mouth to his hard cock.

Sixty nine was always followed by Althea getting on hands and knees, chubby backside presented to Samuel.

"Ugh! Oh, Sammy, that's just wrong," Althea had protested the first time Samuel had slid a greasy finger into her rectum.

'Wrong' or not, she did not wiggle away. 'Wrong' or not, Althea did not insist that Samuel remove his finger from her tight anus.

Samuel slowly slid the greased finger in and out of her squirming, clutching hole. When he added a second finger, she again protested that this was 'wrong' and 'nasty.' But still, she did not wiggle away. Instead, she drove herself back, to take his fingers deeply into her rectum.

"Ugh, oh God Sammy, ugh, that, you going kill me," Althea cried out as the blunt head of his cock pressed against her greasy rosebud.

"Ugh, oh yes!" she screamed and shook in painful orgasm as he thrust the head of his cock into her tightly clenched sheath.

She screamed, whimpered, begged him to stop, all while thrusting herself back to meet his forward thrusts. She shuddered in orgasm when his stiff pubic hair rasped against her stretched anus, then cried out when he began to pull out of her back door.

Now anal sex was the norm for Samuel and Althea. After pumping his second load of semen into her bowels, Samuel would use his towel to wipe his cock clean of lubricant and fecal matter, then he would flop onto his back and declare he was tired of always having to do all the work.

Althea would smirk at this, but would dutifully wiggle over, straddle his hips and slide his cock into her drooling pussy.

Three months into his employment with Scandurro Construction, Samuel overheard two employees talking about the courthouse auctions. He paused in his cleanup of the air compressor nozzles and asked what auctions they were talking about.

"Foreclosures, bank buyouts," one man said.

"First Tuesday of every month," the other man said. "Listing's on line. I mean, most of them? Wouldn't let my dog live in them. But every now and then? Shit, man, you can find you a sweet deal."

Samuel did check the listings on his laptop computer while Althea prepared their dinner. Many of the photographs, Samuel agreed, he wouldn't let a dog live in the houses, much less his beloved Althea.

"Sweetheart, how much longer?" Samuel said, seeing an address that was close to their apartment.

"'Bout thirty minutes," Althea said. Should have put the potatoes in earlier."

"Be right back," Samuel said, pulling on a pair of shorts and a tee shirt.

"Where you going?" Althea asked, standing in the doorway of the kitchen.

"Look at something; be right back," Samuel promised.

The house didn't look too bad. Another house on the same street had a sign out front from Gold Standard Real Estate. Samuel grabbed one of the flyers out of the box and saw the price was fifty four thousand. This gave him a base idea of what the other house was worth.

Althea looked at the flyer of the Gold Standard listing, wrinkled her nose and declared the home was 'ugly.'

"No, no, not for us, Sweetheart," Samuel laughed. "Flip it. Make some money. Buy another one, flip it. Remember? I'm going buy you a house on Roberts Drive."

"Samuel, I don't need a house on Roberts Drive," Althea smiled. "As long as I got you."

On the first Tuesday, Samuel stood, briefcase in hand on the courthouse steps with several other people. When the property he wanted was announced, he called out a bid of ten thousand.

Within moments, three men had bumped the bid up to thirty thousand, forty thousand, fifty thousand. Samuel shook his head in disgust; the home wasn't worth fifty thousand.

It did sell for fifty nine thousand five hundred dollars.

"Fucking bull shit," Samuel muttered darkly.

"And last up is plot sixteen, fifty acres in unincorporated Sweet Oak," the man called out.

For several moments, no one bid. Samuel saw some people looking at their phones, most likely trying to locate Plot Sixteen.

"Five thousand," Samuel called out.

"Five, I've got five thousand. Do I hear six?" the auctioneer called out.

"Hank, just where the hell is plot sixteen?" a man called out.

"Off seventy one and Perkins," the auctioneer called back.

"THAT? Kid, you can have it," the man said to all on the steps.

Samuel paid for the deed to the fifty acres. Then he drove out and looked at the densely forested land. With a nod, he smiled and drove home to his wife. When he showed the cell phone picture he'd taken of their new property, Althea looked at it, then looked at him.

"And?" she asked.

"Sweetheart," Samuel laughed. "That's oak trees. Oak."

Samuel Timothy Dee had a surveyor come out and give him definitive markings for his property lines. Then he contacted Bayr Lumber. He casually mentioned that he had some mature oaks he might be willing to sell.

"Sammy, you made HOW much?" Althea gasped when he showed her the check.

"And when I showed them the red maple?" Samuel chortled, pulling out a second check. "Man damned near broke his wrist writing me a check for them."

Joe Tonacetti just nodded his head when his painter alerted him to the fact that he'd need the first Tuesday off again. Painters were hard to find. Painters that knew how to do dry wall were harder to find. Painters that were good at painting and working with dry wall were nearly impossible to find.

"Plot X seventy four, unincorporated Oakleaf," the auctioneer called out. "Twelve point five acres."

"Twelve point...Twelve hundred," Samuel called out.

"Boy, there's a three acre lake on X seventy four," the auctioneer called back.

"Hmm, oh then, nine hundred," Samuel called out.

Samuel picked up Plot X-74 for four thousand. He strongly suspected the smirking man that had bid against him had run the cost up just to be an ass. But Samuel did not acknowledge the smirking man as he approached the table.

"See you next month, kid," the smirking man snickered as Samuel paid for the property.

"Golly gosh, I hope not," Samuel said calmly. "Gee willikers, mister, I hope you die a slow painful death before next month."

Bayr Lumber sent a crew out and paid Samuel handsomely for the right to clear his property for him. After depositing the check into his Great Oak Savings and Loan bank account, Samuel went back to his first property. Most of it was cleared. There were stumps throughout the property, dotted with the occasional pine tree. Bayr had said they did not want any of the pine trees.

"Perfect," Samuel said suddenly.

Julia Pines subdivision, nestled in unincorporated Sweet Oak, Texas suddenly became the hottest properties in Oakleaf County. The first house built in Julia Pines was constructed of white brick and stood three stories tall. When the wealthy of Oakleaf County saw the home, they clamored to buy their own one point seven five acre plot of land in Julia Pines, then set about to build their own ostentatious home, their own legacy to their net worth.

"But Sammy," Althea said, one hand over her pregnant belly as they walked around their new home in Julia Pines. "Three stories? We don't need anything this big."

"We only going have the twins?" Samuel asked, rubbing her big belly.

"Well, no," Althea giggled.

Just as the nineteenth plot of land was sold in Julia Pines, Julia Lake subdivision in Oakleaf opened. The gated community only had six plots of land for sale, each plot nestled on the shores of Julia Lake. Althea looked out the window of her new Mercedes-Benz SUV and told Samuel, the house in Julia Pines was enough; she did not want a house in Julia Lake subdivision.

"Oh ho! You back, huh kid?" the smirking man said to Samuel on the first Tuesday of the month.

"Uh huh, mister," Samuel smiled.

The man had four properties he wanted. Peter Ortega did manage to get all four properties, but paid nearly three times what he had anticipated for each one. He was not smirking when he stomped to the table to pay for them.

Samuel smiled as he dropped his cash on the table for the three plots of land he'd bought. His nemesis had lost so much money on his own bidding, Peter had not been able to interfere with Samuel's biddings.

"Fuck off, son of a bitch," Peter Ortega snarled at Samuel when Samuel smiled and said he'd see the man next month.

Ronnie Bayr looked at Plot 19 on Perkins and gave Samuel an offer for the mature oak and red maples on the fifty acres. Two months after Althea Denise Dee sweated, grunted, groaned, sobbed and screamed pushing Julia Ruth Dee and Heidi Shirley Dee into the world, Samuel hired Scandurro Construction to start construction on Dee Institute. The twenty eight classroom building would teach classes, grades pre-Kindergarten through the twelfth grade. Samuel wooed the top professors from Connelly College as well as Norman University in Lowridge, Texas to staff the school. Before the doors opened for the first day of class, the elite in Oakleaf County clamored to send their children to the Institute.

Althea giggled and kissed her man as she saw the pristine building on the lush campus. From Perkins Drive, the main building of Dee Institute, as well as the large library were visible. Just beyond the main building, Althea could make out the tennis courts, the gymnasium and the running trails. She could not see the football field or the bleachers for the field. She could not see the baseball diamond or the bleachers for the diamond.

"Hey, making sure our girls will have the best education possible," Samuel smiled.

"Well, we already know they got the best Daddy possible," Althea praised.

"And the most beautiful Mommy in the world," Samuel agreed.

While Althea and Samuel Dee each pushed a stroller along Terrence Drive, waving to their neighbors, stopping to chat with the neighbors that came to coo and fuss over the two little red headed princesses in their strollers, in Dolenz, Utah, Megan Pruitt pulled eight month old Terrence Albert Pruitt from her breast. Her heart still ached whenever she thought about her baby's father. Thankfully, she still had her sweet, wonderful Daddy to love her.

"All finished, Daddy," Megan called out as she put Terrence into his crib.

She eased her skimpy panties down and off as her father entered her bedroom. They smiled at each other and embraced.

Albert cupped his daughter's plump pussy and insinuated a finger into her. She moaned her approval.

"Sweetheart, don't you think little Terrence needs a baby brother or sister?" Albert husked as her fingers wrapped around his hard manhood.

"Ooh, Daddy!" Megan shuddered, pussy spasming as she imagined her belly growing fat with his baby.

"So, we don't need these condoms, now do we?" Albert asked as he eased her onto her bed.

"But Daddy, what people going say?" Megan asked as she spread her legs.

He didn't answer, just slid himself into her. She wrapped her legs around him, pulling him deeper into her pussy.

After their coupling, Albert helped her lift her hips, placing two pillows underneath her. Then he presented his manhood to Megan for her to clean it with her mouth. She sucked enthusiastically. Within moments, he was panting and groaning.

His first spurt went into Megan's hungry throat. Albert pulled out and doused her lovely face with the next few spurts.

"Now, Daddy, what people going say I get pregnant with your baby?" Megan repeated, wiping her father's semen from her face.

"Oh? I didn't tell you?" Albert smirked. "Pumpkin, we're moving."

"We're what?" Megan asked, now sitting up.

"Yeah, fraternity brother of mine? Peter Ortega? Just about lost his ass, couple of really bad real estate investments, he says. Anyway, I applied at Alliance Square Health Facility in, um, Sweet Oak, Texas; they're looking for a skilled Ob/Gyn..." Albert said and eased Mega to lay down again.

"And we know you're a skilled Ob/Gyn," Megan giggled.

"Anyway, bought Peter's house in, um, oh shoot, it's right on the tip of my tongue, um, Jill Pines, Julie Pines, something like that," Albert smiled and kissed Megan.

"And in Texas," Megan smiled. "No one knows you're my Daddy."

THE END

**Author's Note: I write these stories for my pleasure; I post them here for your enjoyment. I thank you sincerely for reading my stories.

I especially thank those that take the time to leave comments, good and bad, and those that take the time to rate my stories.

I do not, however, read emails. The few that I did read? Many were so hateful, some even threatening that I now delete emails without bothering to read them. So, if you feel the need to waste your time, then by all means, send me emails through this web site. Otherwise, post your comments here so that we can all enjoy your opinions.

And, this is the end. Samuel/Terrence and Althea/Julia may or may not pop up in other stories but this is the end of their story.

Garland County is located in Utah. UTAH. Not Louisiana. Yet, some readers, after reading the 'In The Old Days Of VCRs' series, which can be found in the Incest/Taboo category felt it necessary to inform me that Louisiana has Parishes, not counties.

Alan Hackett, the young man that didn't know which end of the paint brush to hold is a character from 'Lunches' in the Mature category.

Joe Tonacetti, the foreman of Scandurro Construction is a character from 'Serpent's Trail' in the Loving Wives category.

Alliance Square Health Facilities originated in '1 Alliance Square' in the Group Sex category.

And, the first few paragraphs of this story were a nudge and wink to my good friend Bebop3, an excellent writer on this site. His character development and emotional evocations within his Montauk Universe are truly admirable. Do yourself a favor and give his stories a look-see. As Joe Namath of NY Jets fame would say, 'You'll be glad you did; I guarantee it.'

Have a swell day. And some of you? Have a swollen day.