Painting Pearls

"This is, Carrie, this is even better than I'd ever thought of on my own," Priscilla admitted.

"You like it?" Carrie gasped, delighted.

"Like it? I love it; I mean, I really love it," Priscilla said. "Where'd you get the drawing of me?"

"Made it in your Paint Shop Pro, then imported it," Carrie said. Once you have the outline, dropping in the colors is a snap."

"The only thing needs to be changed is the address; God, I really don't want people knowing where we live," Priscilla said. "Tomorrow? You're going get us a Post Office box and put that down as our address, okay?"

"Our?" Carrie asked.

"Yeah. We, we're together, aren't we?" Priscilla asked. "Now, what you hungry for? I don't want pizza again."

"You ever eat at Buddha's Palace? On Simpson?" Carrie asked.

"Let me dry my hair and..." Priscilla said.

"They do delivery," Carrie suggested.

"You know the number?" Priscilla asked, digging her Master Card charge card out of her wallet. "Order me the egg drop soup, um, vegetarian spring rolls; get the peanut sauce with that, and um, General Tso. Fried rice. Their steamed rice sucks."

"And I can get me..." Carrie asked.

Priscilla leaned forward and kissed Carrie's lips. She held Carrie's face in her hands and smiled.

"Carrie, get whatever you want. I mean, I'll share, but you get whatever you want, Sweetheart," Priscilla assured Carrie.

Carrie's responding kiss let Priscilla know that Carrie wasn't used to getting what she wanted. She was used to people dictating to her what she would get. Priscilla combed her fingers through Carrie's long hair and smiled what she hoped was a reassuring smile.

"Love you," Priscilla whispered and kissed Carrie again.

Priscilla dried her hair. The hum and whirr of the noisy appliance drowned out Carrie's phone conversation. When Priscilla did shut off the hair dryer, a pale Carrie admitted that their bill would be forty seven dollars. Forty six dollars and seventy four cents to be exact.

Forty eight dollars and seventy four cents," Priscilla corrected, digging some coins out of her purse. "What you want to drink?"

"You're not mad?" Carrie asked. "I mean, I didn't think it'd be that high, but I got the egg rolls and they're..."

"Carrie, I told you, Sweetheart, get whatever you want," Priscilla assured Carrie and opened the door of the motel room.

After dinner, Priscilla put Carrie onto her belly. Priscilla stretched out on top of Carrie, pressing her into the mattress. She centered her outstretched arms along Carrie's outstretched arms. She centerd her muscled legs over Carrie's legs. Her breasts mashed against Carrie's back, her pussy mashed against Carrie's bony buttocks.

"I love you. I am in love with you," Priscilla whispered softly into Carrie's right ear. "I love being in love with you."

"I...mmph!" Carrie started to respond but Priscilla swiveled her head and bit down on Carrie's lower lip.

Priscilla gently released Carrie's lip and kissed along Carrie's right cheek until she reached Carrie's ear. She nibbled lightly on Carrie's ear lobe, then kissed along Carrie's throat to Carrie's shoulders.

"Mm, oh," Carrie sighed as Priscilla nibbled on Carrie's right shoulder.

Priscilla lightly raked her fingernails along Carrie's arms until she reached Carrie's slim shoulders. Priscilla then lifted her torso and kissed and nibbled on Carrie's left shoulder. She bit down lightly a she travelled down along Carrie's shoulder blades and back.

Priscilla traveled down, kissing, lightly biting until she reached Carrie's slim buttocks. By now, Carrie was moaning and panting lightly, was slowing hunching her pussy against the polyester of the motel bed.

Priscilla was not gentle as she bit down on Carrie's left buttock. She took great big bites of the taut flesh, leaving little impressions of her teeth where she bit down.

"Oh, Priscilla, that, that's oh no," Carrie whined as Priscilla used her hands to push Carrie's buttocks apart.

Priscilla did not even think about it. She just ran her tongue up and down the small furrow of Carrie's buttocks until she reached Carrie's anus. Then she stiffened her tongue and tried to force it into Carrie's tightly clenched rectum.

Paul had done this once to Priscilla. She'd found the feeling of his tongue tickling her anus to be very pleasurable, tittlating. She had also found the idea of someone lapping at her anus to be 'dirty' and 'nasty' and had made Paul stop.

"Augh! Oh, Priscilla!" Carrie cried out when Priscilla jammed two fingers into Carrie's spittle wetted rectum.

"Ach, oh God!" Carrie cried out in orgasm as Priscilla's thumb mashed against Carrie's clitoris.

"Oh! Oh Priscilla," Carrie gasped and moaned when Priscilla then began to kiss and nip at the backs of Carrie's thighs.

Priscilla kissed and nibbled down the back of Carrie's legs to where the ankles began. Then she again stretched out, matching Carrie's position, again mashing Carrie against the firm mattress.

"You're smushing me," Carrie lightly complained.

"Aw, poor baby," Priscilla teased.

Wednesday morning, much of the things that had been carried to the curb in front of the rental house were gone. Neither Carrie nor Priscilla knew if Frankie or Darlene had managed to get friends or family to assist, or if opportunistic passers-by simply helped themselves to the booty.

Thursday, Kyle and a helper installed the new unit. Kyle admired the business cards and promised he'd hand them out to any new construction or other clients of his. He also supplied Priscilla a few of his own business cards and Priscilla promised that Dr. Beard, her current client would get one of his cards.

"I mean, whole time I'm working? Her unit never shuts off," Priscilla commented.

"Well, as much as you're charging me," Dr. Beard complained when Priscilla did hand her Kyle's business card. "I don't see how I could afford to call them for any service."

"Yes ma'am," Priscilla said, not rising to the woman's bait.

Arriving home after checking out of the motel, Priscilla and Carrie both let out a sigh of happiness; the air was blowing cold. Carrie then slowly walked from room to room. Priscilla busied herself in the kitchen; those leg quarters looked just about ready to go bad if not cooked immediately.

"Can I set up an easel in your office?" Carrie asked as Pricilla chopped up the last of her onion.

"Of course," Priscilla agreed. "In fact; I think that room gets the morning sun."

After dinner, Priscilla happily pulled Carrie into the hall bathroom. With kisses and giggles, Priscilla stripped Carrie out of her long sleeved tee shirt and jeans and panties, then turned to start the whirlpool jets in the tub. Carrie whooped happily and climbed into the tub.

"Home sweet home," Priscilla sighed, easing herself into the very warm water.

"I oh! Oh! This, augh!" Carrie gasped and shuddered.

"What?" Priscilla asked.

"Feel, feel where my pussy is," Carrie hissed, pretty eyes shut tight.

Prischilla felt down, across Carrie's belly to Carrie's coarse sprigs of pubic hair. She felt the 'whoosh' of water escaping from between Carrie's thing legs.

"That, that's hitting my hole," Carrie hissed, shifting slightly to maximize the contact.

Priscilla found an adjacent jet and manipulated her body so that the jet was pummeling against her own anus. Then she caused some water to slosh out of the tub as she rolled to press her pussy against the powerful jet.

"Mm, augh, oh yes," Priscilla hissed in orgasm.

"How you don't just sit in this thing all day," Carrie sighed as she too rolled to press her pussy against her jet.

"Ain't easy," Priscilla giggled. "But hey, Momma's got bills to pay.

With kisses, Priscilla and Carrie sponged each other with Priscilla's soap. Priscilla had not realized just how much she'd missed using her own oatmeal soap, but now luxuriated in the gentle suds.

"Ooh, yes; got to get that good and clean," Carrie shuddered as Priscilla dragged her fluffy washcloth over Carrie's slit.

"And now..." Priscilla said, pushing the drain lever up with her toe.

"Aw," Carrie whined as the water receded.

Priscilla dried Carrie with a large towel, then pulled Carrie into her bedroom. Laying Carrie down in the center of the queen sized bed, Priscilla found her tube of oatmeal and honey moisturizer.

""Oh," Carrie moaned as Priscilla began to massage the lotion into Carrie's neck and shoulders.

Carrie was nearly asleep when Priscilla ently rolled Carrie over. Sluggishly, Carrie complained but her complaints ceased when Priscilla began to massage the lotion into Carrie's shoulders and arms.

Priscilla left the sleeping girl and walked, nude into her garage. She emptied her bag into the washing machine and started the machine. Carrie was still slumbering when Priscilla returned. Her complaints began again when Priscilla roused her and demanded that they get underneath the covers.

"I, your bed is nice," Carrie sleepily stated and was sound asleep again.

"So, how much longer this going take?" Dr. Beard complained Saturday morning when Priscilla began applying the second coat of primer.

"Mm, I'm about two days ahead of schedule," Priscilla mused, checking her progress so far.

"Well, it sure is taking a long time," Dr. Beard complained.

"Yes ma'am, doing it right does take a long time," Priscilla agreed, continuing to work.

"Well, if you'd hire some help, you could do it faster," Dr. Beard suggested.

"Yes ma'am, and if I hired some help, I'd have to charge more," Priscilla said, moving to the next level of the scaffolding.

"More than you're already charging?" Dr. Beard screeched.

"God damn, just how bad are the teachers at that college paid?" Priscilla asked herself as she continued to work at a brisk pace. "Yeah, Mother, I really need to go to college."

Lunch time, Priscilla found Carrie engrossed in her sketching. She prepared lunch, kissed Carrie and returned to apply the last coat of primer to the rear of the house.

"Monday I'll start on the blue," Priscilla told Dr. Beard.

"What? You, we're supposed to have rain tomorrow," Dr. Beard said. "You going leave it like this?"

"Ma'am, it'll be fine," Priscilla assured the woman.

Arriving home, Priscilla cleaned her paintbrushes and then stripped out of her coveralls. Dressed in black bikini, Priscilla casually walked into her home and announced that she was taking a bath. A nice, long, leisurely bath.

"Be right there," Carrie whooped from the office.

Priscilla dropped bikini to the floor and turned when a nude Carrie entered the bathroom. She smiled and hugged Carrie.

"You know, I don't think I could ever get tired of seeing you nude," Priscilla confessed.

"You know how to use an air compressor?" Carrie asked, stepping over the rim of the tub as Priscilla started the taps.

"I uh, what? What does you being naked have to do with...?" Priscilla laughed.

"Guy's selling a used air compressor on Craig's, 'bout half the cost of a new one," Carrie said. "That's too hot."

After their bath, Carrie showed Priscilla the listing. Priscilla pondered for all of five seconds; the ad said it had several attachments suitable for painting. She called the man and agreed to his price.

"It'll fit in my car?" Priscilla asked.

"Ma'am, you give me cash, I'll bring it to you," Bruce Thompson agreed.

"And you know how to work this?" Priscilla again asked Carrie as she hurried into clothing. "That guy shows up, hold him here until I get back."

Instead of making love Sudnay, Carrie stood on the small concrete pad in Priscilla's back yard and showed Priscilla how to use her new air compressor. Pricilla watched with rapt attention as Carrie easily, efficiently coated an old, weathered piece of plywood, creating a shadow image of herself getting into Priscilla's claw foot bath tub.

"I want that for over the couch," Priscilla demanded.

"It's got bugs in it," Carrie stated, flipping the old board over and showing Priscilla a few bugs scurrying on the wood.

Carrie then made Priscilla practice painting with the various nozzles.

"That guy even gave you the stuff clean them with," Carrie said and did begin to clean the nozzles.

"I'm serious; I want a painting like that," Priscilla said, again flipping the painted board over and displaying the nude portrait of Carrie.

"Maybe. We'll see," Carrie teased. "Priscilla! Don't you dare; put that hose down!"

The rain finally did come. Carrie assisted Priscilla in pulling the compressor into the garage. Then, heavy pounding rain overhead, Priscilla and Carrie returned to the bed. Priscilla dug around and found her eight inch dildo.

"MM, oh, oh yes," Carrie groaned as Priscilla 'fucked' her with the rubber phallus.

"Eat my pussy," Priscilla demanded, squatting over Carrie's face as she worked the thick dildo in and out of Carrie.

"A rainy Sunday afternoon," Carrie sighed as the two lovers cuddled after making love.

"Mm hmm," Priscilla agreed, softly kissing Carrie's lips.

Monday morning, Priscilla woke, did her exercises then found Carrie in the office, charcoal stick flashing over a canvas mat.

"I'm dying for some eggs and bacon; sound good?" Priscilla asked.

"Uh huh," Carrie said absently.

Priscilla had to call Carrie twice before Carrie finally joined her. Priscilla smiled and kissed Carrie, then pointed out the charcoal smudge on Carrie's nose.

"You going use the air compressor?" Carrie asked as she used her toast to sop up the egg yolk.

"Yeah; the wide angle thingie, right?" Priscilla agreed.

"Got tape? And plastic?" Carrie asked.

"Huh? What I neeed that for?" Priscilla asked.

"Cover up the windows and doors and stuff," Carrie said. "As mean as that woman is? You think she'd let it slide you get paint on her windows?"

"God, what? What are you doing?" Dr. Beard complained as Carrie and Priscilla began taping black plastic garbage bags over her windows and wooden trim.

Ignoring Dr. Beard's grumpy attitude, Carrie politely told the woman she would have to use her side door for the foreseeable future. Dr. Beard declared that this was unacceptable.

"Ma'am, it is just for the next twenty four to forty eight hours," Priscilla stated. "Weren't you the one complaining about how long I'm taking? I'm trying to get this finished up as quickly as I can."

"Bitch," Carrie muttered as Dr. Beard slammed the door.

"That. Right there," Priscilla snapped at Carrie. "Yes, she is difficult. Yes, she is disagreeable. But she is the customer. And the customer is always right. Even when they are wrong."

Carrie's eyes filled with tears. Priscilla felt pained, but knew she was right. She stoically continued her work, preparing the front of the house for spraying.

"Okay, and..." Priscilla said, after double checking all of their prep work.

Dr. Beard drove away and Carrie resisted the urge to give the old woman the finger. Priscilla seemed to sense Carrie's concerted effort and gave Carrie a tight smile.

"Yes, she is a bitch," Priscilla quietly said. "And, had I known just how demanding she was? I would have added another five, six hundred to the total. But when there is any chance she might hear you? It's yes ma'am, and no ma'am. Okay?"

"Okay," Carrie nodded.

Priscilla was amazed at how quickly the first coat went on. While the front dried, she and Carrie prepped the left side of the home. They then coated the side of the home.

"Carrie, I love you, this is fantastic!" Priscilla enthused as they scrambled around to the rear of the home.

By Friday, Priscilla was doing the minor touch up to the trim and to the iron trellis supports on the outside perimeter of Dr. Beard's carport. Dr. Beard tried to nit-pick when Priscilla handed her the final invoice, tried to find blemishes and errors.

"Well, I'm not sure I like the color of the door; I didn't think it would be that dark," Dr. Beard said.

"Ma'am, you're the one that picked out that color," Priscilla said, fighting hard against losing patience with the difficult woman.

Mumbling and grumbling, Dr. Beard wrote out a check for the invoice's total. She flushed when Priscilla reminded her that there was a thirty five dollar charge for any NSF checks.

"Pearl Painters? Who's, I didn't hire anyone from there," Dr. Beard said, now looking at the invoice.

"Yes ma'am, you did. I'm Pearl," Priscilla smiled.

"You, I thought your name was; what'd that little red headed scarecrow call you?" Dr. Beard asked as Priscilla walked away.

"Calls me 'Sweetheart,' and I don't appreciate you calling her a scarecrow," Priscilla muttered, walking to her house.

"Mr. Wilson wants hire you to do two sixteen, inside and out," Carrie informed Priscilla when Priscilla entered the house.

"Carrie, put on some clothes," Priscilla laughed happily.

"Why? You just going make me take them off again," Carrie smiled a playful smile. "I'm inside; no one can see me."

"What'd you tell him?" Priscilla asked, grabbing her purse.

"Told him you'd call him to make an appointment," Carrie said, handing Priscilla the note.

"Mr. Wilson? Hi, this is Priscilla from Pearl Painters? Hi, my assistant said you're looking for exterior and interior work on two sixteen Conway Road?"

"See you then, Mr. Wilson," Priscilla agreed and nodded approval as Carrie appeared, dressed in khakis and a long sleeved blouse.

"What time?" Carrie asked, slipping on her shoes.

Two o'clock," Priscilla said. "There any of the meatloaf left?"

"Can make us a couple of meatloaf sandwiches; there's none of the mashed potatoes left," Carrie said, bustling into the kitchen.

When Priscilla returned from meeting with Francis Wilson, Carrie informed Priscilla that Kyle had called; the general contractor that was building the new Carlisle's Restaurant needed her like yesterday.

"What happened to your clothes?" Priscilla asked and Carrie gave her an impish grin.

"Okay, Miss Nudie-Rudie, I, we need to hire some painters. Jesus, I didn't, who in the hell would have known, I need people, now," Priscilla said.

"I found you another air compressor," Carrie said, walking into the office. "I'll get on the employees right now."

"You found, why do I need another air compressor?" Priscilla asked, following Carrie into the office. "Good God, what are you doing?"

There were five canvases along the office walls. One was a surreal depiction of a female breast, quite distended and distorted, but somehow quite erotic. Another piece of art was what Priscilla had requested; a shaded relief of Carrie climbing into a claw foot tub. The other three, Priscilla wasn't sure; she thought one was a bright red vagina, but when she drew near, she saw several twisted, bent, broken items scattered into a haphazard triangular fashion. And as she stepped back, she saw that the bent, damaged tuba was a clitoris, the mashed grilled cheese sandwich was the inner labia.

"This, this is what you been sketching?" Priscilla asked as Carrie rapidly typed on the laptop's keyboard.

"I, no, well, yeah, I mean, I, Dr. Jeannette? She always said she knew I had a voice, a voice inside, one that had passion and tension and rawness but I just never knew what she wanted," Carrie said, stopping her frantic typing. "And then you and I and I just can't stop. I start on one, then I need to do something else and..."

"It's kind of like that mouth of yours," Priscilla laughed, looking at the random works of art.

"Like how I just can't shut up!" Carrie gasped, amazed. "Oh my God, oh! That, that's it! And all it took was someone loving me, oh Priscilla! Oh Sweetheart! Oh I love you so much!"

Priscilla called Jimmy Wright and agreed to meet him at seven the following morning. As she talked on the phone, Carrie finished typing, then grabbed a charcoal stick and began slashing at a sixth canvas.