Alright everyone.
I need a break from writing UA stories, and I finally got permission to share some stories that me and my neighbors took part in making. All of it is 100% true, only the names have been changed. This is due to a very open and frank, and very much needed conversation with a very epic member here to get this ball rolling. Interest will denote further postings. Unlike what I normally write, some of this stuff is deeply personal and I would ask for honest criticism, because I am literally going out on a limb here. Thank you for reading.
In this story, to clear up any confusion, the timeline is after we moved into where we are now, and a certain neighborhood feud forced one group of friends to move to the other end of the neighborhood to avoid the most horrible people me and my wife have had the displeasure of ever knowing.
The Players:
Me - age 26 at the time, will be going as George
My Wife - close to 26. Mother of two, soon to be mother of 3, At this point she is in the momma bear mode. Will be called Sarah
Friend 1 - 45 m father of one. Name will be Trevor
Friend 2 - 42 f mother of one. Will be named Helen
Asshat 1 - 44 m father of many. Epitome of white trash (no lie or joking.) Will be known as Frank
Asshat 2 - 42 f Mother of many. Cattiest bitch, thinks she is queen of the whole damned neighborhood. Will be known as Patty.
The kids play no role here, so they will not be mentioned.
I will also be mentioning people who are not involved in the incidents, because continuity.
*Fuck* I cursed. I just busted a knuckle open, again. My friend Alan was supposed to be helping me drop this gas tank on my 91' ford f-150. He was supposed to be helping me disconnect the fuel hose from the gas tank, so we can slide the empty tank out, so I can replace the fuel pump. "Why don't we just unbolt the bed and lift it enough to get to the fuel tanks?" He asked. "Because, I gotta check them both. I dont have an impact gun, do you?" I asked, annoyed. I was not like him. His garage would put most mechanics to shame. He needed a tool, fuck it, he got it before the thought left his mind. Me, I got a wife and two kids, I could barely manage a complete knock off no name tool kit. Let along things like air tools, and all the shit I am supposed to have to do this shit with. But Alan is a good man. A little bit of his head was still lodged firmly in is ass still, but a good man.
I slide out from under the truck, as I hear Alan's top of the line Ram haul ass towards his house. I was dripping blood from my hand, so I called for a break, grabbed a cold one from my fridge in the garage and walked out into the mildly warm early fall air. Mildly, is a gentle term here, it was still balls hot, as it always is in the South. I could see the neighbors starting their Halloween decorating, a couple of weeks early. My wife was sitting under the tree with my girls, enjoying the afternoon. I waved at them, and she waved back, and I took a hard slug of that cold beer. It felt good, real damned good.
Now let me say this. While Alan is my closely deep, life long friend, he is fiercely loyal, but also fiercely determined to prove me and any Idea I have wrong. He is only minutes older than me, but because he went a different route in life than me, I am the one stuck in high school. I tried to warn him.
He comes roaring up, Sweet Home Alabama blasting on the radio, with three other people in the truck. The Dilbert Squad. These too are my friends, but honestly, fuck them. They waste not a single second attacking my beer supply, before unloading the truck, in which Alan brought his pro grade tool box, on wheels, his air compressor, and his impact set. I leaned against the wall and watched, knowing the outcome. My neighbors got a show too. This drew the attention of another friend of ours. Trevor. This man was wise. He came over, through my yard, which I allowed, because its my own damned fault for not fencing it in yet, and because unlike some in the neighborhood, I don't actually mind him coming through the yard.
"Trying to lift the bed?" he asked.
"Yup." I replied handing him a beer.
"Standard impact set, right?" He asked after taking a deep sip.
"Yeah. top of the line." I said sipping again.
"Waiting for the failure?" He asked.
"Of course, what are friends for?" I replied smiling.
"Here, give this to Alan, before he fucks your shit up." He replied handing me the one thing Alan did not have.
"Thanks, man, I will bring it back." I replied.
"No worries, its not a much needed thing, just make sure its in the box when you get around to it." he said, walking away as four men were darkening the air with swearing and cursing.
The problem with the impact gun idea, was I knew he thought he went all the way. But in my limited knowledge of vehicles, mostly trucks, the beds were able to be removed by removing the nuts and lifting. But the biggest problem was getting the gun to the nut. A special extension for the gun is needed. Which is not included in most base impact kits. So after laughing at them for a little while, we got the bed lifted and it turned out the spare tank was the fouled up one, so we cleaned it, replaced the line and pump, and after more cussing and fighting, the sun was in the trees when we finished. I gave Alan the keys to get both tanks filled. He owed me. He left, and that's when all hell broke loose.
"You fucking fat cheating bastard!" A clearly drunk woman's voice shattered the calm late afternoon air.
The diatribe was followed by the sound of bottles breaking.
"Fuck you, you fat useless whore. If you didn't eat so damned much, I'd fuck you twice!" A man's drunken slurred voice yelled out.
I live on the block, but a house down and to the right, was a dead end street, on that street is where Trevor and his wife live. Next to them on the other side of them is where the impromptu almost nightly episode of Jerry Springer was happening. No one reacts much any more, as they usually just rampage in their yard or street then go inside when they suspect the police have been called, and nothing until the next afternoon. The whole area believed that the only time they left was to restock their beer or booze supply. They had kids, but no one has seen a single one of them in ages. We believed they may have been eaten.
I call this couple white trash, but I should be punished for insulting white trash. They did nothing to keep their yard clean. He drove a beat up car that looked like it was made from parts from other cars. They had an RV in their driveway, and behind their house, that was propped up high enough for the grandmas attic to hang over my back neighbors fence. They had two dogs of unidentifiable breeds in the back yard where grass or weeds refused to grow. The only thing that grew back their was the piles of scrap, broken things and junk. Everyone reported them to the county almost daily when we seen rats running around their back yard. But they would just flip us off and start yelling at us to mind our own damned business. This was America, and they could live how they pleased!
Tonight was different. as I, Alan, and company walked the sidewalk to Trevor's house to watch this bullshit live.
A naked girl/woman was drunkenly trying to throw bottles at the fat blob lady, who was drunkenly waddle charging the younger woman.
They both miss each other and the skinny woman is tripped over a fire hydrant, and her ass and pussy is in full view to us. Not ugly, but not so nice either. Fat lady is naked too, apparently they cant afford to fix their AC, so they wear almost next to nothing.
Let me put this out there. This is where the feud/war started.
I might be coming of being heavily judgemental, but the thing is, this is not a rich neighborhood. No house here is worth over 100k. But like the old saying goes, fake it to make it. So we all try hard to keep our stuff nice and tidy, not cause problems, and generally just try to be decent human beings. But these people.
"Patty, get your naked fat ass in the house. there are kids around. You too, Clara." Helen, wife of Trevor, Stopper of bullshit, Maker of the meanest shortbread cookies. One not to mess with. Bellowed out her window. Unfortunately, both window in the kitchen proper let her see this stupid show.
"Eat me, you stuck up cunt, you and your f----t husband can lick my asshole. Can't leave us alone, acting like you are better than anyone around this shithole. Go back to work you stuck up bitch." Patty shouted, trying to get herself up. She manages to get to her feet, right before she is knocked down again by Helen, who did indeed jump out her window to as they say hit a bitch.
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From this point on, I will edit out any racial, homophobic, or other inappropriate slurs. A lot of them were used, I think the only book Frank and Patty ever read was the encyclopedia of insults.
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The fight lasted all of ten minutes, as the skinny naked chick jumped into it, fighting both Helen and Patty. I call it a fight, but it was obviously one sided as Helen who was sober, easily fought down, A drunk Patty, and Skinny.
But what caused A Perfectly Normal Housewife to go off like a bottle rocket?
Simple.
The last report to the county included a call to CPS, and Animal control.
There were three children on the property, living in the RV's, the dogs had alot of puppies, the inside of the house was horrific. Sometimes, they would leave the back door open to air out the house, and the smell would drift to my backyard and the smell was evil. Like mold, animal crap, piss, shit, rotting food, rotting wood, rotting fabric, unwashed bodies, booze, cigarette smoke, and pot smoke had an orgy in a rotting fish pit, and the baby they all made together from that would grow to have sex with the smell of a rotting corpse, and that baby was what that smell was.
The kids were removed, the dogs taken, the puppies were saved, but their parents had to be put down, as they were too vicious. and the house condemned. But they had only one hope. They had 3 weeks to clean up, and not just pick up things, but actually get to work, or they lose their home that they did not even own. They rented that house from Frank's uncle.
Spoiler alert: Frank's uncle had to bite a major loss on that property, but that was later in the story.
So skip to now, Patty blamed Helen on their situation, and then spread out Helen's dirty laundry all over the neighborhood. Like everything.
Back in the day....
Patty and Helen were best friends growing up, in the town, not this area, but a bit better. But while both families were good, they were not good enough to pay for both girls college. Both girls were tops of their classes, good grades, etc. But one day an odd club came to their part of town...
They did not want to go out of state for college. But an old bar was remodeled near the girls homes, and a new gentleman's club was opened. Adrienne's Angels. The owner was the wife of the sheriff at the time, a strong opposer of some of the more strict morality laws that were in place, like no booze before 1pm on sunday, cant buy porno mags anywhere or at any gas station anymore, etc. The only reason she got the permits and licenses to run such a club was that she promised it would be "tasteful."
Patty and Helen were legal by this point, only a couple of months before they were to graduate. Word among the girls was Adrienne was looking for new talent, the only requirements were official ID, 18, and can at least shake your ass. So naturally, they learned that most dancers make good money a night. So they figured, by the summer after they graduate, they would have enough to attend the local university.
They both auditioned and both were hired. They worked as a duo show in the club. They were a hit. Until it came time to get ready for the fall classes. Helen was accepted into the local university, but Patty was not. She failed her SAT's but did not tell Helen. So with a heavy heart that coolish fall day, Helen said goodbye to the girls of Adrienne's Angel's, and to Patty, who had been almost a sister to her as they grew up.
Helen would go on to get her degrees, and reach as high as she wanted to in her field of study. Then, came down to be a teacher at the high school. And now is a teacher/mother. Patty kept dancing. She threw all she made into the bank, so she could go find her own dream. She flipped this town off as she drove away on a greyhound, supposedly never to set foot here again. No one knew what became of her, until she returned ten years later, fat as all hell, kids in tow, and lanky redneck sumbitch driving a beat up station wagon. They crashed at many peoples places, until The husband, Frank, begged his uncle to rent him one of the houses he had. So he did, but also the least costly of the properties he managed.
So here we are, Patty telling the world, who already knew that she and Helen pole danced. Helen would bring it up, if she was comfortable with who she was talking to. But that does not mean that a fat bitch can spread her past out like that, because she wont take care of the property.
So yeah this fight was expected. I was craving a beer and popcorn, when I smelled popcorn, Kelly, who is the neighborhood joker and jackass was toting a large stockpot of fresh hot popcorn, and his wife was carrying beer. Yes we sat on Trevors truck, ate popcorn and drank beer while his wife was releasing the evil on her ex friend and a skinny woman who had gotten caught up in it.
A half hour later, when the fight was already over, Helen was on her porch, and skinny woman and Patty were licking their wounds on theirs, the good old deputies showed up, and after getting all of our statements, hauled Patty, Naked skinny woman, and Helen, and then Frank, because he jumped off the porch to try and tackle a deputy arresting the skinny naked woman. We never did find her clothes.
We all packed it in, and returned home. No one would post bail for them, except Helen, so Helen got to come home the next day. A week went by and Trevor was called away for a work trip. A fall storm came up, and Helen being home alone was naturally scared. So she ran through her backyard to our backyard, right up to the back porch. Like I said, before pool and fence. This was a low level tropical storm, so just in case, I pulled out the two generators I insisted on owning, as Hurricane Ivan had taught me a lesson. 5 weeks without power, so yeah, that's not happening again. I filled them up, got the extension cords ready, and brought out the mre boxes from storage. I was ready for the worst. And as I thought, it did get worse. Cat 2 overnight. Not terrible. But not good either. Helen and my wife and kids hid in the basement, I stuck it out upstairs, because the power was out, and I had to get the emergency radios and fans ready.
During my prepping.
I knew how close my wife was to Helen. The older woman had a certain charm about her, that made it really hard to be put off by the age difference. The older woman, came to like us, even her husband tolerated us, which was equal to practically being family. But how close was the question about to be answered...
My baby girls could sleep through anything, as long as their needs were met, full belly, clean diaper, and lots of love before bed most of the time meant a peaceful trip to sleepy land, and tonight was no different. Once the girls were secure in the basement, which was my little hideaway, they were sleeping beautifully.
But My wife and Helen were doing something else to pass the time.
As I have stated before, we are not swingers in the traditional sense, nor are we in an open relationship. But what we have works, and what is going on right now, is my wife getting her bare ass spanked for spilling water on Helen's foot.
Helen kept her dancer's body. She worked out, and ate well. Her tits had not a single hint of sag in them yet, and her auburn hair was beautifully styled. She had my naked wife across her lap, playing with my wifes bottom, finger her holes, or poking her clit, between each smack on the ass.
I knew they were fucking, but thought Helen was too scared for that stuff, or I would have broke out the wine, crackers and cheese. This was making me hard, and the tent was forming in my gym shorts. Helen could not see me, but she guessed I was there.
"A punishment for your bad little wife, George. Sarah will watch as I fondle you, George. Then I will mount you George. And you will fill me full." She said in a stern, matronly voice.
"Yes ma'am." My wife said subserviently. This was one of the games my wife likes to play.
"Now suck him hard." She commanded my wife.
My wife while in her lap, opened her mouth to accept my cock. She began to suck, but also wash my cockhead with her tongue. I was getting harder in her mouth, when Helen stopped us. "Now Sarah, get me ready to accept his shaft." Helen commanded, as she in the dimly lit room let Sarah out of her lap, and got on all fours, presenting her ass for Sarah to work. Sarah started small, with kisses and licks around the crotch, and Helen's thighs. Then when she noticed her attentions were doing their job, Sarah attacked the opening slit with vigor. She licked from clit to asshole in dog like licks. Once Helen's juices were starting, then Sarah began sucking on the hole, trying to draw out more of Helen's nectar. Helen's head was thrashing about, as she was enjoying the orgasms my wife was bringing her, until she cried out to stop.
"Now George, time to breed me." She said, face flushed, as she smacked her ass and upper thigh, beckoning me.
Keeping my dick against my belly, I was going to fuck Helen like the dog she was treating me as. I put my full weight on her back, as I let my hips drop a little, so my dick can find her hole. It did not take much effort, as a couple of forward thrusts, and I was in. She arched her back under me, not expecting the rough fucking I planned on giving her.
"Oh..oh god..Fuck...please...be....gentler....oh dear...god...." she stammered out, as I bit lightly on her neck to let her know who was truly in charge at that moment.
She squeaked out, but then just accepted my dick thrusting inside her. She laid her head down, ear to the floor losing herself to my abuse.
My wife, one to not be left out, crawled over, and offered Helen her dripping wet cunt. Helen obliged her, and buried her face in my wife's smooth crotch. Each of my thrusts drove Helen into my wife's pussy. I grabbed her hips, as I was feeling close to the point of no return.
"Inside or out?" I growled softly.
"Fill her full." My wife said with her lovely wicked smile.
"No, don't fill me full, please don't I am fertile." She said in an obvious lie. This too was part of the fantasy game. Helen had her tubes tied after her daughter was born. Trevor was fine with one kid, even if it was not a boy. But this part was the fun for me part.
"Nope, time to make a few more babies." I said grabbing her hips and holding them tight to mine. I felt my cock stiffen harder, then that beautiful feeling of release. Spurt after spurt, going deep inside Helen. Helen sobbed as I came inside her. I knew she felt every hot spurt. That was the fun.
I cracked open the basement windows a little. I know, I know, don't open windows in tornados or hurricanes, but fuck it, it was stuffy in the basement, and we started to switch from candles to flashlights due to the heat.
We bedded down for the night, Luckily, my wife prepared some bottles beforehand, My oldest was eating solid food at this point, so she did not wake up except for dirty diapers. But daughter 2 woke up for both food and diapers, and that was good, cause we prepared.
I needed air. So i opened the tiny basement windows in the directions the winds were blowing. The room got a little less stuffy, but it was still warm. After the last feeding the worst happened...
*CRACK* *KABOOM!* *CRACK CRACK* *SMASH*
When I said Fred and Patty were world class assholes I was not being mean. All of their shit in the back yard that was not heavy enough for the winds not to move was thrown far and wide, and one of their propane grill tanks exploded when they hit the road and sparked off. But what the worst thing to do as bad neighbors, was to not take down the tall dead pine tree in their yard. But no worries, the storm did it for them, it chopped the rv in the back yard in half, and then tore into Trevor and Helen's house. The noise woke me up, so I want to check on it. I returned to the basement, and went back to sleep.
The next morning.
No power, no coffee, and wife and Helen are out looking at the damage. I got to work, cranked the generators, and for good measure chained them to my porch. Once I got the cords into the house, coffee was the first order.
The girls were fed cleaned and probably with Sarah and Helen as they walk the neighborhood. There was not too much damage. Old trees fell, garbage all over, shingles flung off, but our house was generally okay. But Helen's house was fucked with a long pine tree cutting it in half. The neighbors house too got hit by it, and the assholes house took alot of damage from it, and the back half of their house's roof being blown off. No fucks given. But Helen was in her house sobbing. My wife was comforting her, and helping her gathering things to salvage, before the insurance company would come, declare the house a total loss and cut her and her husband a nice check later.
But our story does not end there. Helen and Trevor crashed at our place for a bit, converting my basement from play room to their own apartment. Trevor was a contractor, but now works to help major country wide contractors get the help they need. Technically he retired early, but he wont say why. They were cool as all hell house guests. But something was simmering under the surface with trevor and Helen, when their daughter came home from college her freshman year, and seen the house wrecked.
This would come to be known as the war of the Kittens.
Trevor and his family would eat with us, chill and watch TV, and had free use of the house.
Let me describe Trevor here.
Trevor at this point was a man of little words. At 45, i would say he had the deep tan of Clint eastwood in the Dollars series, gumption of John Wayne, and the quiet intensity of Liam Neeson. But he was not an overly angry man. But the day after the insurance people did their thing and released the house for us to remove the tree, he woke me up. I had saved some time off, because I wanted to charter a bay dive with my dad and friends, but I figured fuck it, and called in. Trevor was also not a super tall man, but always seemed able to stand toe to toe with anyone, despite their height or build. He had that way about him, when you were being serious, or he was being serious, he locked eyes with you, and you had no will to move your own eyes away. If he was messing around with you, he would not look you in the eyes, enjoying cracking a joke followed by a light elbow to the ribs. Especially when watching his wife and my wife garden. "Ey, looks like the asses are going to be firm this year, boy?" He would tease me. I did not mind being called boy by this man, for I was much younger, and gave proper and due respect.
"Yeah they are, especially that strawberry blonds over there." I would tease back, and the man would chuckle. Not guffaw, or be overly loud. But he would always take a step away from me, as he knew what was coming next. *whap!* a dirt clot would hit me in the chest, as my wife showed her slight displeasure at her and her friends asses being judged. But Helen knew a better way, one which ended with us men being soaked to the core. Helen went for the hose. And thus we were drenched to "cool our jets."
But back to the story.
"Get your chainsaw." He said, as my wife had the day shift at the er, and was gone already. Helen was with my daughters, and as a pro mother (a woman whose kids are grown and good to go in life, earns her the rank of Professional to me.) she handled them with such ease, you would have thought she birthed them. She showed me and my wife easier ways to do things, not in the way like mother in laws, or own parents, who watch you do it, and figure your doing it wrong to step in, that way, which rubs people wrong. No, she taught us as she did, getting my oldest daughter to actually eat veggie baby food, and meat baby food. The woman was to me the patroness goddess of motherhood.
Trevor kissed Helen goodbye, I told Helen to take it easy after the girls are taken care of, and she shooed me out the door. We walked the proper way to his house, and were joined by some determined male neighbors. with their own chainsaws.
"Not today, asshats." Frank's uncle said to us as we walked to the fence where the pine tree ruined it and the three houses. Franks house, Trevor's house, and the empty house on the corner that was perpetually for sale had the pine tree all in their business.
"Fuck off, were cutting it out of my house, you can deal with your part on your property." Trevor said in his "no time for bullshit" voice.
"Nothing doing. This tree is my property. We are gonna sit here all nice like, and wait for the tree people to come and lift it, and pull it back to place." Uncle said.
"Check the laws again, asshole, that tree is dead, and destroyed other's property. Might want to step back a bit, before someone does something they will regret." Dave, the only man alive who can be so dumb, but have that one moment of clarity, he seems genius.
This went back and forth until a deputy who was checking for looting rolled up. Words were said, and the law sided with Trevor. The tree could be cut out of his house, but he could not cut it from the other properties, so it was going to have to be sectioned off. Fine by us. Uncle was pissed as the clearly dead and rotten tree exploded at where we were cutting it at the fence line. I mean looking at where the roots should be, was nothing sticking in the air as most trees that fall over do. The taproot was gone,and surface roots rotted away. so there was nothing to save, and the tree services on patrol like sharks in the water would do the same.
But this situation would escalate. Uncle was not liked in the neighborhood. He was a prototype hipster, flipping houses before it was cool. He bought quite a few properties in the neighborhood, renovate them, and sell them at much higher prices than they were worth. It would come to light that most of the work on the houses he sold was shoddy, and thus he earned the reputation of being a snaky weasel. Not to be trusted. So after we removed the section of offending tree, we stacked it politely in front of his house. Being neighborly and all, returning to him what was his. Later that day, my wife and Helen were cleaning up the inside, gathering what could truly be saved, and crating it up in totes. I was sent to wally land many times that day, as others who had room damage needed totes too. But I was coming up the street, when my wife, Helen, and their daughter, (who will be known now as Traci) Traci, screaming and crying. Trevor went with me, as we were getting chain oil and chains for everyone's chainsaws, as there was alot of trees fallen all over. Trevor gets out, Pop. I get out, Pop. Then the screams of animals being severely hurt.
After calming them down, The situation was, Uncle had crews clean out the entire property, and they found where a bunch of mother cats stashed their kittens for safety to go find food. Uncle being a downright evil prick, decided to kill them, instead of calling for rescue. Traci was holding three kittens, who looked close to being weened, bawling her eyes out, with a bruise on her face.
Now Let me again say this. The events happened, I will swear on my own grave that they are 100% true, despite sounding so out of bounds bullshitty. But you would have had to know the man to know that he was that kind of prick. He had no qualms about killing small animals or hitting teen girls. He was the type that had a thick shield of money around him so that shit would not stick to him. And anything that got in between him and his money was a threat to be eliminated. Simple as that.
Trevor did not take kindly to his daughter being hit. So he asked her to confirm that he hit her. She tried to play it off, sensing what her daddy was going to do, but finally fessed up. Trevor rolled up his sleeves. He never rolls his sleeves up in the time I known him, and he walked over to his house and around the side. No one followed him. The pressure coming off of him made me tremble a little. It was like I was in the presence of a massive, bigger than me lion, and it was hungry.
Here is what happened, from the reports from witnesses, as I did not follow anyone, but sighed, and leaned against the truck.
Trevor walked over to his house. Walked over to the side of his house. Walked over the ruined fence, tore his pants on the chain link. Walked passed people rushing to stop him, found the Uncle, who was dumping lighter fluid on the pile of dead kittens, and was fishing out matches from his pocket, when Charles, an older neighbor, retired marine, and generally decent guy ran across the street, after seeing the look on Trevor's face. Charles painfully cleared the fence, and was running to restrain Trevor, but it was too late. A large tattooed arm and fist was drawn back, and before Charles could stop him, the arm was launched, propelling the fist forward, right into the right eye socket on the smug self satisfied face of Uncle. Charles said later, that the only time he seen a punch like that, was when he was in Boot, and a recruit talked back to the drill instructor. It was a clean hit, with a little twist of the fist before impact. The impact sent Uncle into the pile of beer cans and bottles, awaiting bagging.
Uncle was out like a light, and that was when Charles stopped Trevor, restrained him and pulled him back to Trevor's Yard. Police were called, but no charges filed, as EVERYONE seen Uncle strike the girl, and only CHARLES seen TREVOR hit UNCLE.But all Charles seen was Uncle tripping on some trash and getting a bad shiner on a beer can.
And with that the war was started. The war that would burn the neighborhood down (figuratively).
After that, Uncle had his contractor crew erect an ugly brown tarp wall around the property, and we thought that was that. But it wasn't.
I will keep it short, to get back to the rest of the sexy times.
Traci ended up staying with us, as the dorms at the local university sucked during the summer. We helped her with the surviving kittens until new homes were found, because they needed good homes. Traci started to take after her mother, helping with our girls, but also heavily flirting with me and my wife. I mean, when her mother was not home, or her dad was at work, we did not mind her lounging around, as I knew that unwinding after classes was key to mental survival, but what she laid around in was concerning. Since most of her clothes were stored at her parents house, she only had a select few outfits, and my wife ended up donating her old clothes that were a little loose, or a little tight in all the right ways, and most of the time it was my old oversized shirts I bought for my wife during her pregnancies, because she refused to wear moo moos. Besides, nothing but a t-shirt is sexy as hell.
And that is what the little minx did. No panties or bra, since by now power was not restored. The crews were working on the lines and it would not be until at least tomorrow till they finished in our area. So we wore little, as did everyone in the area. But this morning, the first salvo in the war was fired, as we had finished helping Trevor and his wife clean out the house from basement to attic, and once we were done, Trevor said to us on his back porch that he might buy the house next to us, since only the garage and detached laundry room was damaged. Nothing too expensive to fix, as it was originally a townhouse from the 50's but the style did not catch on in the neighborhood. It was two rooms larger than their current home, and Trevor looked it over and estimated it would take around six grand to completely up to code fix. Helen was ecstatic. Traci was meh. Uncle was pickled pleased to hear it, as I smelled his cigarette smoke from the other side of the tarp.
A bad gut feeling washed over me. And I was proven right. Uncle immediately called the Realtor in charge of the property, told them he would buy it for twenty grand under asking, as it would cost thirty to repair. The Realtor at first refused, but since it was an old sale, being on their books for so long, the woman agreed. The for sale sign was removed later that day, much to the sadness of Helen, who cried in the basement over having to move farther away. I could swear Uncle was in my backyard, listening to the tears of Helen, and giggling with glee. The second volley came from Trevor, when he reported Uncle to OSHA for unsafe working conditions. He also made a couple of calls, and the tear down project of his house was halted, as no one would rent him the equipment. Most local rental places claimed that all of their equipment was rented out for an extended time period. Not a lie. Trevor had to drive to Birmingham for work, so he decided to help the crews rebuilding an old baptist church with the equipment they needed, but could not afford to rent. Before he left, a large trailer with a bobcat on it was dropped off in front of my house, and I let Trevor hook it to his truck, and followed behind him, smiling and waving smugly at Uncle as he was directing his workers to tear the house down by hand until the equipment he claimed he rented arrived. I could almost hear the contractor refuse, since the house was damaged beyond hand demo. This was just as sweet as it could be. I followed Trevor to the highway, and waved him off, and went to pick up the ladies some burgers for lunch.
The third and finally assault came a few days later, with Trevor gone, the bastard Uncle found an out of state rental company to send over the equipment he needed. Did Uncle care that it was against local law to block a public street without a permit, no. Did he care that he wrecked part of Trevor's house with the Bulldozer, not being a trained or Licensed operator, just because his contractor packed it in, and Uncle refused to pay a single cent more for someone to run it? Nope. He found a bunch of operators, who worked under the table, who may have either lost their licenses, or were fired.
This is where I join the war.
To complete the clean up required to avoid heavy fines and possible jail time, and to get the house on the market again quickly, they had to remove the RV, and the now empty sheds. The problem was the space between the houses would not let it get towed out in its current condition. The foundation of the house was to high for them to just tow it out, as there was no house there anymore. My problem, was now I had an irate, bald headed asshat at my back door cussing at my wife.
You see, between my house and the house on the left of my house there is a huge gap. like almost thirty feet across. This was intentional as my house was originally owned by an elderly couple who owned the land next to my house to, and put in the house there for their kids to live., but with just enough distance for privacy. I technically own ten feet past where the people who now own that house put their fence up. But they were chill, and I even offered to pay to redo and move the fence, they did not care at all, because the fence was put up because they did not know us yet, and once they got to know we weren't evil or narcs, they let us take the fence down, and put up a nicer one for them, so that their babies could get real sun, instead of a grow light. They were pot heads. They got busted at a party, and the house went vacant, until a hipster couple bought it, only for a place to stay when they decide to come to town, only met them in passing, and I dont care for them much.
So this bald ass bastard, wanted us to let him drive through the side yard, to pull out an rv that is broken, and longer than the space. Which means wrecking my beautiful yard while his machine moves the rv into a better position. AND I would have to pay if something happens to the broken rv, which means he never intended to find a wrecker to move it, but only leave it between my house and the neighbors. "Fuck off." I said to him flatly. Do you know how much money and effort it takes to make your backyard grass so soft and gentle in the hopes you can watch your babies pet pat the grass cutely? Or that you can just lie down on it and be comfortable? No. I will not wreck my heaven. I laid into him, and told him to just get a fucking heavy duty Lull and lift it out onto a trailer and get fucking bent.
I was in my home office, as I felt guilty burning up my vacation days, while they were probably losing their minds at the office. Again, nope. Office only had the phones up and running now, so yeah, no work. But no check, as vacation pay was about half of what you got paid that month if you took longer than a week off. But I am sitting there, reading some porn, as the babies were finally down from their post lunch nap inducing play time, and the house was calm, Helen, Traci and my wife were lying on the floor of the living room, as Trevor had gotten ahold of one of those big round drum fans, and we opened the sliding door, secured the curtains, and anything that would blow away, refilled the generators and let that big bastard blow. Even in my office it felt a little cooler. But over the sound of the babies cd player playing their soft music, the ladies listening to some radio station in the living room, I heard the sound of a diesel engine starting up. I tucked my dick back into my shorts, grabbed my bat and went out my front door to see...
There was a semi with a trailer inches from parking on my lawn, there was a big fucking crane arm towering over the house on the corner, I expected the arc would have the arm swinging over the house next to me on my left and into my property. "Oh fucking no. Stop this shit now!" I yell out as the entire neighborhood was watching me go off like a mad man, sort of like Tom Hanks character in the movie "The Burbs." At the end when he finally breaks down. I loved that movie. But this was not a movie, nor funny, the asshole was going to swing and entirely fucked up RV over my house and yard, with a huge chance it could do serious damage to my house. Fuck the house, IT COULD KILL MY BABIES. That was the only thought on my mind. I am a softie to my kids, but I told them all the time while growing up: "If someone or something harms one hair on your pretty heads, I will be the only one on Court TV facing serious murder charges in a three piece suit, with a smile on my face. Because if you are alive and safe, then cold blooded murder, and possible imprisonment would not even mean a thing to me, only that it was worth it."
Yeah, most parents have that feeling, its like, you dont have much time left, but your babies, they are just starting out, so its okay to throw down your life for theirs, an easy choice I feel any parent will make, if you disagree, let me know. Were old, you are young, not a difficult choice to make. Watch Episode 10 of "All of us are dead." on netflix, and you will understand. For your children you will die a thousand deaths, every tear in their eye, every skinned knee, every time some asshat kid makes fun of them every time a boy or girl breaks their heart, a parent dies inside, knowing we cant fix that stuff easy, like a bandaid, that you have to go through it to grow, like a baby bird escaping the egg. the pain only makes you stronger.
I Digress.
I did not know what I could do to stop the madness. Trevor was gone, Charles, who basically tried to stop all the bullshit was powerless, even Dave could only watch in horror. Then it dawned on me. This was dangerous. And something you can't do without permissions. So before I could bash the Uncle's head in, Dave stopped me and stole my bat from me. That bat traveled alot that day, and passed many hands. It returned home later that night. But I ran inside and used my phone....
While I was making a call, some shit was going on.
Dave and some of the other guys were getting in the middle of this mess, by fucking with the workers trying to hook up the RV with chains. They would tell the men it was too weak there, or that they needed more chain and not straps, that to help the RV had to be empty, just to stall for time. The workers did not really give any fucks about the job, as it was evident that they might not be getting paid. Well they wont if they keep listening to this bald headed bastard. So with offers of cold drinks, a smoke break was called, and all the machines went silent.
Once I was off the phone I collapsed on my front porches deck chair. I was a wild rebel, putting a deck chair on a porch, not a deck. Fuck the system. \m/
It was an hour of silence, except for the loud yelling of Uncle for the guys to get back to work, but his crew was scarffing hotdogs, since everyone was gathered in the street anyways Dave dragged out his gas grill, and had to use his bulk package of hot dogs and buns before they went bad. So it was a hot dog party, but the food was actually great. I ate my fill, as the grey SUV that we all know and now love shows up with the true to life Sheriff. The man, who is done with this bullshit gets out with his white hard hat and his citation pad and grabs two pens, walks up to the sheriff and after a few words, the sheriff makes the semi move around the corner, makes us all disperse a bit and walks with the hard hatted man to where Uncle was stomping on something in anger. I did not hear what was said, but soon the crane was taken away, and after more words from the sheriff, the workers left.
We had won the battle.
Uncle was told there was no way possible for that RV to come out in any safe fashion with any heavy machinery. Not going to happen, so he would have to scrap it by hand, and haul the junk away. And from what I heard from people nearby, if he tries any more crazy shit, he would be arrested.
The RV was torn apart on site, and safely hauled away. However, due to unpaid property taxes and fines piling up, the county put a lien on the property. And as a final turn of the screw you, they would deny any permits for anything, even to just cut the grass if it required it. So, broke and defeated we never heard from Uncle again. Eventually the property would be put up for sale, after every penny owed on it was paid in full, and the people who bought it, built a much nicer house there. Also Uncle had to sell off a majority of his properties to cover his debts to the bank on the loans he took out, and to pay the people who were going to sue him for unpaid work. So the neighborhood had a collective weight lifted off of their chest.
Frank and Patty did some time, about two years apiece, then promptly left the state. Helen says she swears that they are in a trailer park just across state lines, but no one cares enough to go there and check it out.
In the end of this story, Traci stayed with her parents, finished school, but stuck around and moved into the corner house a couple of years later, after some people fixed it up, but decided to move where it was not so quiet. Trevor and Helen did move away, a whole two blocks away. like six houses away, to the right of us. They bought a house that was just right for them, and still close enough to everyone they liked so that its a nice little walk to chat.
There are more stories to tell, let me know if you want to read them, I promise more sexy times ahead.
End Note: I wanted to personally thank Staci, who did more than inspire me to write this, but made some recently bad days better. She is a wonderful person, beautiful woman, and nice human being. I originally did not want to name her, but her contributions deserve some recognition, so I apologize if this makes her uncomfortable or embarrassed, it is not my intention. Thank you from the bottom of my heart to you, and anyone who reads this and enjoys it. Makes it worth while to write it out.