Chapter 6

“And that’s if they can find the parts; I can’t tell you the last time I worked on a Crosley unit,” Kyle said. “Think they mostly make refrigerators now.”

Carrie gasped when Kyle gave Priscilla the price of a new unit. She also gasped when Priscilla asked Kyle if they accepted Master Card.

“I mean, ma’am, you want to, you can get a second opinion. You think I’m just trying sell you a new unit,” Kyle offered.

“How soon can you get a new one in here?” Priscilla cut him off.

“Mm, booked, got the Warrens next, ma’am, I can be out here Thursday morning; that work for you?” Kyle asked, looking at his tablet.

“Going have to,” Priscilla sighed.

“And ma’am, there’s no charge for this trip; we’ll apply the sixty five dollars to the cost of your Carrier,” Kyle said. “By the way, who you work for? I see you’re a painter.”

“Pearl,” Priscilla said. “Pearl Painters.”

“Hmm, not heard of them,” Kyle said as the trio walked through the gate to the front yard.

“They’re pretty new,” Priscilla said.

“Well, get me some of their cards; we do some new construction; in fact, we’re going be putting a unit at the new Carlisle’s on Fontenot Road. When I was out there measuring for the duct work, the general contractor fired their painter. Drunk? That boy was drunk, drunk, drunk.”

“I’ll have some cards when we see you on Thursday,” Priscilla promised.

Tuesday, Priscilla started sanding down the rough spots. Carrie got tired of standing or sitting and watching and grabbed a sanding block and felt along the board and sanded down the spots she could feel. Carrie’s mouth kicked into overdrive and she chattered nonstop while she and Priscilla labored.

“So, why pearl,” Carrie asked as she started feeling along another board.

“Because pearl is the birthstone for the month of June,” Priscilla said, smiling down from the scaffolding. “It’s my favorite.”

“You want, I can do up the cards; take me like a minute. You got a printer? See, over at Office Depot, you can just get the cards; they come like ten to a page and you set up the Avery format and…” Carrie prattled.

“You know what? That. That’s what you can do,” Priscilla stopped and looked at Carrie. “Here; how much you think it’ll be?”

“The cards? No more than twenty, maybe thirty bucks,” Carrie said.

“Okay, here, here’s the keys to the car,” Priscilla dug out her keys and two twenties.

Priscilla continued working, sanding down any rough patches, filling in any holes with putty. She was startled when Carrie popped up, asking for the password to log onto her computer.

“Carrie, it’s got to be like a hundred degrees in the house,” Priscilla said. “Don’t worry about that right now.”

“I got all the windows open,” Carrie responded. “Come on, what’s the password?”

“BD six two seven nine eight, B and D are capitalized,” Priscilla said. “Now, don’t be going on Amazon and ordering me ‘The Anarchist’s Guide To Bomb Making, hear?”

“They even got that?” Carrie asked.

“I don’t know; and you don’t need to be finding out. I love you, but you drive me crazy sometimes,” Priscilla smiled.

They both turned when they heard a scream. Looking at the rental house at 208 Conway, Priscilla and Carrie saw that a police car was in front of the house and two uniformed officers were carrying furniture from the house.

“Mother fucker, that’s mine, you can’t just, where am I supposed put it?” Darlene screamed.

“Oh,” Carrie moaned, watching the eviction of her friends.

“You can work on it later,” Priscilla said softly.

“No, no, I can’t I need to get this done,” Carrie whimpered and scurried back to Priscilla’s house.

Priscilla worked, stripping down to tee shirt and shorts as the sun beat down on her. As she worked, she watched Darlene and the still-vacant Frankie as their possessions were put to the curb.

“Yes, mother, I really should go to college,” Priscilla muttered to herself as Darlene knelt on the street sobbing and Frankie just stood, staring off into space.

“Just as she was finishing that day’s work, Priscilla saw her garage door slowly open. She watched her car back out of the garage, then saw the door slide down. Darlene sat on the curb, looking miserable and Frankie wandered aimlessly along the curb, unsure of where to go.

“Hey Lady, need a ride?” Carrie asked, lowering the window of Priscilla’s car.

“Yeah,” Priscilla smiled, motioning to Carrie to pop the trunk open.

In their motel room, Carrie waited until Priscilla had taken a shower before showing her the business cards she’d designed.

“Since pearls are round, I went with a rounded font style; bold face,” Carrie said, pulling out a sheet of perforated card stock.

“Ah!” Priscilla gasped, seeing a caricature of herself, holding a paintbrush.

The caricature Priscilla had swept the brush along the left hand side of the card, stenciling in Priscilla’s cell phone number. Above the number was Priscilla’s address, and along the top of the card was the name Pearl Painters.

“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.