The Piece Treaty 3rd Gear
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The Piece Treaty 2nd Gear free porn video
The Piece Treaty 2 nd Gear
We pick up the story of Dave and Cyndee (Cyn) and their sexual adventures in a new suburban housing development.
Dave is half Native American, one quarter French-German and three quarters crazy.
Dave loves Cyn, likes sex, guns, country music, pickup trucks and redneck hobbies.
Cyn is "a turn around & look at that would ya" blonde who loves Dave and loves sex. She is tall, long legged and hour-glass figured with a walk that practically screams “come fuck me!” She’ll do nearly anything to please Dave as long as sex is involved.
Dave and Cyn have an agreement which allows her to satisfy her desires as long as her ventures don’t cause Dave any undue stress. They call it a treaty because Dave is enough Indian to receive benefits but won’t apply.
They live smack in the middle of a new very upscale housing development.
The developers’ list of restrictive covenants takes up several pages and includes everything from what color you can paint your house, where your park your car, how often you mow your lawn, to what you can keep on your property.
Dave inherited his property of over two hundred acres, from his grandfather who was full blood Native American and it cannot be subjected to the restrictive covenants. It is a pie-shaped piece that has about two hundred and fifty front feet facing homes that have three car garages with BMWs, Mercedes, Lexus, Cadillacs and even a couple of Bentleys housed inside.
However, the property developers made a huge --more like monumental-- mistake when they sent Dave a letter advising him what he could do and especially not do, with his property.
Dave had no intention of building there; at least not until he got the letter.
Did I mention Dave is three quarters crazy? Oh yeah, I guess so.
Dave was forced to retire from the military (Section 8) as a hero. Dave swore no one would ever tell him what to do again.
If anyone tried, he was going to do just the opposite.
Along with the property Dave had inherited enough money to see him through for a very long time.
Two days after the magic letter as Dave called it, a bulldozer & backhoe arrived to level the place where Dave placed a brand new double wide mobile home, burnt orange color with turquoise trim.
This caused the developers to spend copious amounts of money on attorneys who advised them it was hopeless.
Next, Dave installed the above ground pool, a basketball court, mailbox bolted to an old toilet, and an old clawfoot bathtub buried halfway with a lighted statue of the Virgin Mary inside. Oh, and a scattered flock of plastic pink flamingos.
Nice and comfy and everything strictly forbidden by the restrictive covenants.
The neighbors were not exactly pleased.
Actually they were horrified and proceeded to sue the developers for false advertising and breach of contract.
***
Dave was target practicing from his back porch when the developer’s attorney came around the house with a real estate assistant.
The lawyer came to tender an offer to purchase Dave’s home and enough property to provide a buffer zone and hopefully stem the lawsuit.
Dave wasn’t interested, but Cyn thought the assistant was awfully cute and that develops into another story later.
One Sunday morning found Dave and Cyn drinking coffee and watching as their nosy neighbor Ms.Silvia Ferris was heading off to church in her new Chrysler.
Cyn ambled out into the yard as Silvia headed out and Cyn saw her sneer, elevate her large nostrils and turn away to avoid eye contact.
Cyn smiles and says, “Bet she eats mean cakes for breakfast.”
“Yeah, brushes her teeth with lie soap and wipes her ass with habanero peppers.” Dave smirks.
“Kinky!” Cyn wonders how tough you’d have to be.
Silvia is a rich widow whose husband was said to have died in self defense.
Silvia considers Dave and Cyn lowlife scum; juicy gossip fodder for her sorority sisters.
Silvia refuses to speak to Dave or Cyn, yet calls the cops to complain about them regularly.
Dave’s buddy RD shows up on Sundays for a beer and perhaps to watch a demolition derby, or wrestling, or any redneck sport on TV.
RD passes Silvia who sneers at him as he waves.
RD is not an educated guy, barely got out of middle school, escaped if, you will.
RD works as head groundskeeper at the local cemetery and is a happy guy who occasionally hooks up with Cyn’s friend Jill.
“You guys need to get old lady Ferris leveled out. She’s overdue for removal or replacement.” RD muses, “Ain’t ya sick of the cops showing up ‘cuz o’her bitchin’?”
“Waddaya want me to do?” Dave shrugs.
“I’m horny, why don’t we go inside for a couple hours?” Cyn smiles sexily.
“You’re always horny. I mean about old lady Ferris.”
“Why don’t we prank her?” RD grins.
“I’m open to suggestions but, I don’t want to do any jail time,” Dave cautions.
“Let’s go in the kitchen and draw up a plan.” Cyn likes plans and she loves plans that involve mischief or sex, preferably both.
At the kitchen table, yellow pad in hand Cyn pencils out the plan of attack.
“We are going to make everyone in her sorority and garden club think she’s gone kinky.” Cyn’s big tits were suddenly the focus of RD’s attention.
“Huh? She’s uglier than a molting buzzard.” RD’s observation is spot on.
“Yeah, we are going to need a government grant for this project,” Dave quips.
“Nope, but we will need RD’s pickup overnight.” Cyn smiles.
“I’ll enlist Ricky the wino. We can get some of Jill’s old lingerie and use your fancy video camera to record the action.” Cyn is good at tricks, not just the sexual kind.
Cyn is always hatching some scheme that makes Dave a little more paranoid than he was the day before. She watches prank videos on YouTube and tries variations of them on friends and enemies, some of which used to be friends.
But I digress, back to the pickup and Cyn’s plan.
RD’s pickup is a sight to behold. It’s mostly a black1976 Ford.
And except for the white hood, primer spots, red fender, yellow passenger door, plywood tailgate and Dodge engine, everything is original.
RD has more bumper stickers than bumpers even though the front bumper is a cut-off section of guard rail.
The windshield is only cracked in three places.
The front seat has long since collapsed into a mini sink hole RD filled with spray foam which oozed out from under it preventing any adjustments.
As an added feature. RD had hung a huge rubber scrotum from the trailer ball.
Perfect!
They spent the rest of the day painting a plywood sign to install in the bed of RD’s pickup that read: "SEX TO YOUR DOOR and A HOLE LOT MORE, Call 555-1234".
***
The following Sunday morning found Ricky the wino passed out on Silvia’s porch with clothing & lingerie strung up the fancy walkway leading to her door.
One pair of lacy red panties hung from the wrought iron gate post, waving in the breeze beckoning passers by to take a second look.
RD’s pickup, sign included, was parked just shy of her driveway and, as the sun rose, so did Silvia, the buzzard with a squawk that could be heard a mile away.
Silvia flew out the front door to pounce on Ricky. She had already called the sheriff.
“Who the hell are you and what are you doing on my property?” Silvia screamed at Ricky who, was trying to clear his head from the nights’ alcohol induced stupor.
“Huh?” Ricky stared at Silvia bleary-eyed and suddenly got the strangest look.
“Silvia?” Ricky slurred, “Silvia Bushman, is that you?”
Silvia froze, Ricky stared, the camera rolled and everything seemed to go into slow motion.
“Richard, not Richard Burke?” Silvia was looking at him like she was seeing a ghost.
Silvia Ferris’ maiden name was Bushman.
Silvia and Richard were nearly engaged over 30 years previous.
Silvia loved Richard but she decided she loved money more than Richard; he was after all, just an average guy.
Howard Ferris was wealthy.
Silvia made a choice and “Ricky” was left for one who had much more of what Silvia thought was important.
For Silvia it was a bought and paid for miserable life until Howard’s fatal heart attack. Then it was only miserable.
Richard was a one girl kind of guy who crawled into the bottle and never emerged sober.
Now it seems, the fork in the road had gone around the hill and converged once again.
Fate can play some strange tricks on its own and will do so when it is least expected.
***
A patrol car shows up and a deputy gets out surveying the scene just as RD is backing his pickup into Dave’s driveway.
The deputy looks up toward the pathetic couple on the porch and then at Dave and RD. He decides to interview them first.
“You probably don’t want to explain what is going on here, but you damn well better.” The deputy levels a hard look at Dave, who is unfazed.
“Just a little friendly neighborhood get-together.” Dave smiles. “Are we too loud?”
“The call from the woman across the street doesn’t sound like this is all too friendly. If she files a complaint someone is going downtown.” The deputy does not seem amused.
“You might want to check your authority on this one.” Dave is still unfazed.
“Officer you are standing on reservation land.” Dave grins adding, “Think you might want to call the BIA before you steps in buffalo shit.”
The deputy radios back to his dispatch and finds what Dave told him is true.
“I’m going to go talk with Ms. Ferris and try to get this resolved.” The frustrated deputy heads across the street.
As he approaches the walkway the whole scenario changes and Silvia Ferris comes down from her porch leaving Ricky wondering what will happen next.
Ricky is not unaccustomed to spending time at county facilities, so he figures this will be just another week or more of free meals and a couple months of community service which he never completes.
“I’m so sorry officer. This is such an embarrassment; I don’t know what to say. There is no problem here. I just made a mistake and I hope I have not caused too much trouble for you.” Silvia sounds so different that the deputy stops and stares.
“Are you sure? We don’t take these calls lightly. If there is a real problem we need to know. If someone else needs our help we sure don’t want to be out on a frivolous call.”
“I’m sure. It was all a misunderstanding that goes way back and you will not be hearing from me unless it is a real emergency.” Silvia is very apologetic in her tone.
“If something changes let us know.” The deputy turns and heads for his car stopping just before he gets in to stare in disbelief.
Silvia waves a friendly goodbye and everyone now thinks: “What was that about?”
***
Two thirty on Monday morning, a cool breeze, an open bedroom window and the sounds of buzzards mating awakens Dave and Cyn.
“What the hell is that?” Dave gets up to investigate the horrible noise. “Its over at Silvia’s place, sounds like she’s having some kind of seizure.”
“Sounds like an extended orgasm to me.” Cyn joins Dave at the window.
“Holy shit! Do you suppose she’s screwing Ricky?”
“Who else? They went into her house and didn’t leave.” Cyn smirks.
“I’m not sure who got pranked here. Sure don’t seem like it was Silvia.” Dave grimaces as another howl of ecstasy can be heard from Silvia’s bedroom window.
Cyn giggles with delight, “Well, I guess all she needed was a little wine and some sausage. I’m glad we could be good neighbors and help her out.”
Cyn is always the optimist.
We pick up the story of Dave and Cyndee (Cyn) and their sexual adventures in a new suburban housing development.
Dave is half Native American, one quarter French-German and three quarters crazy.
Dave loves Cyn, likes sex, guns, country music, pickup trucks and redneck hobbies.
Cyn is "a turn around & look at that would ya" blonde who loves Dave and loves sex. She is tall, long legged and hour-glass figured with a walk that practically screams “come fuck me!” She’ll do nearly anything to please Dave as long as sex is involved.
Dave and Cyn have an agreement which allows her to satisfy her desires as long as her ventures don’t cause Dave any undue stress. They call it a treaty because Dave is enough Indian to receive benefits but won’t apply.
They live smack in the middle of a new very upscale housing development.
The developers’ list of restrictive covenants takes up several pages and includes everything from what color you can paint your house, where your park your car, how often you mow your lawn, to what you can keep on your property.
Dave inherited his property of over two hundred acres, from his grandfather who was full blood Native American and it cannot be subjected to the restrictive covenants. It is a pie-shaped piece that has about two hundred and fifty front feet facing homes that have three car garages with BMWs, Mercedes, Lexus, Cadillacs and even a couple of Bentleys housed inside.
However, the property developers made a huge --more like monumental-- mistake when they sent Dave a letter advising him what he could do and especially not do, with his property.
Dave had no intention of building there; at least not until he got the letter.
Did I mention Dave is three quarters crazy? Oh yeah, I guess so.
Dave was forced to retire from the military (Section 8) as a hero. Dave swore no one would ever tell him what to do again.
If anyone tried, he was going to do just the opposite.
Along with the property Dave had inherited enough money to see him through for a very long time.
Two days after the magic letter as Dave called it, a bulldozer & backhoe arrived to level the place where Dave placed a brand new double wide mobile home, burnt orange color with turquoise trim.
This caused the developers to spend copious amounts of money on attorneys who advised them it was hopeless.
Next, Dave installed the above ground pool, a basketball court, mailbox bolted to an old toilet, and an old clawfoot bathtub buried halfway with a lighted statue of the Virgin Mary inside. Oh, and a scattered flock of plastic pink flamingos.
Nice and comfy and everything strictly forbidden by the restrictive covenants.
The neighbors were not exactly pleased.
Actually they were horrified and proceeded to sue the developers for false advertising and breach of contract.
***
Dave was target practicing from his back porch when the developer’s attorney came around the house with a real estate assistant.
The lawyer came to tender an offer to purchase Dave’s home and enough property to provide a buffer zone and hopefully stem the lawsuit.
Dave wasn’t interested, but Cyn thought the assistant was awfully cute and that develops into another story later.
One Sunday morning found Dave and Cyn drinking coffee and watching as their nosy neighbor Ms.Silvia Ferris was heading off to church in her new Chrysler.
Cyn ambled out into the yard as Silvia headed out and Cyn saw her sneer, elevate her large nostrils and turn away to avoid eye contact.
Cyn smiles and says, “Bet she eats mean cakes for breakfast.”
“Yeah, brushes her teeth with lie soap and wipes her ass with habanero peppers.” Dave smirks.
“Kinky!” Cyn wonders how tough you’d have to be.
Silvia is a rich widow whose husband was said to have died in self defense.
Silvia considers Dave and Cyn lowlife scum; juicy gossip fodder for her sorority sisters.
Silvia refuses to speak to Dave or Cyn, yet calls the cops to complain about them regularly.
Dave’s buddy RD shows up on Sundays for a beer and perhaps to watch a demolition derby, or wrestling, or any redneck sport on TV.
RD passes Silvia who sneers at him as he waves.
RD is not an educated guy, barely got out of middle school, escaped if, you will.
RD works as head groundskeeper at the local cemetery and is a happy guy who occasionally hooks up with Cyn’s friend Jill.
“You guys need to get old lady Ferris leveled out. She’s overdue for removal or replacement.” RD muses, “Ain’t ya sick of the cops showing up ‘cuz o’her bitchin’?”
“Waddaya want me to do?” Dave shrugs.
“I’m horny, why don’t we go inside for a couple hours?” Cyn smiles sexily.
“You’re always horny. I mean about old lady Ferris.”
“Why don’t we prank her?” RD grins.
“I’m open to suggestions but, I don’t want to do any jail time,” Dave cautions.
“Let’s go in the kitchen and draw up a plan.” Cyn likes plans and she loves plans that involve mischief or sex, preferably both.
At the kitchen table, yellow pad in hand Cyn pencils out the plan of attack.
“We are going to make everyone in her sorority and garden club think she’s gone kinky.” Cyn’s big tits were suddenly the focus of RD’s attention.
“Huh? She’s uglier than a molting buzzard.” RD’s observation is spot on.
“Yeah, we are going to need a government grant for this project,” Dave quips.
“Nope, but we will need RD’s pickup overnight.” Cyn smiles.
“I’ll enlist Ricky the wino. We can get some of Jill’s old lingerie and use your fancy video camera to record the action.” Cyn is good at tricks, not just the sexual kind.
Cyn is always hatching some scheme that makes Dave a little more paranoid than he was the day before. She watches prank videos on YouTube and tries variations of them on friends and enemies, some of which used to be friends.
But I digress, back to the pickup and Cyn’s plan.
RD’s pickup is a sight to behold. It’s mostly a black1976 Ford.
And except for the white hood, primer spots, red fender, yellow passenger door, plywood tailgate and Dodge engine, everything is original.
RD has more bumper stickers than bumpers even though the front bumper is a cut-off section of guard rail.
The windshield is only cracked in three places.
The front seat has long since collapsed into a mini sink hole RD filled with spray foam which oozed out from under it preventing any adjustments.
As an added feature. RD had hung a huge rubber scrotum from the trailer ball.
Perfect!
They spent the rest of the day painting a plywood sign to install in the bed of RD’s pickup that read: "SEX TO YOUR DOOR and A HOLE LOT MORE, Call 555-1234".
***
The following Sunday morning found Ricky the wino passed out on Silvia’s porch with clothing & lingerie strung up the fancy walkway leading to her door.
One pair of lacy red panties hung from the wrought iron gate post, waving in the breeze beckoning passers by to take a second look.
RD’s pickup, sign included, was parked just shy of her driveway and, as the sun rose, so did Silvia, the buzzard with a squawk that could be heard a mile away.
Silvia flew out the front door to pounce on Ricky. She had already called the sheriff.
“Who the hell are you and what are you doing on my property?” Silvia screamed at Ricky who, was trying to clear his head from the nights’ alcohol induced stupor.
“Huh?” Ricky stared at Silvia bleary-eyed and suddenly got the strangest look.
“Silvia?” Ricky slurred, “Silvia Bushman, is that you?”
Silvia froze, Ricky stared, the camera rolled and everything seemed to go into slow motion.
“Richard, not Richard Burke?” Silvia was looking at him like she was seeing a ghost.
Silvia Ferris’ maiden name was Bushman.
Silvia and Richard were nearly engaged over 30 years previous.
Silvia loved Richard but she decided she loved money more than Richard; he was after all, just an average guy.
Howard Ferris was wealthy.
Silvia made a choice and “Ricky” was left for one who had much more of what Silvia thought was important.
For Silvia it was a bought and paid for miserable life until Howard’s fatal heart attack. Then it was only miserable.
Richard was a one girl kind of guy who crawled into the bottle and never emerged sober.
Now it seems, the fork in the road had gone around the hill and converged once again.
Fate can play some strange tricks on its own and will do so when it is least expected.
***
A patrol car shows up and a deputy gets out surveying the scene just as RD is backing his pickup into Dave’s driveway.
The deputy looks up toward the pathetic couple on the porch and then at Dave and RD. He decides to interview them first.
“You probably don’t want to explain what is going on here, but you damn well better.” The deputy levels a hard look at Dave, who is unfazed.
“Just a little friendly neighborhood get-together.” Dave smiles. “Are we too loud?”
“The call from the woman across the street doesn’t sound like this is all too friendly. If she files a complaint someone is going downtown.” The deputy does not seem amused.
“You might want to check your authority on this one.” Dave is still unfazed.
“Officer you are standing on reservation land.” Dave grins adding, “Think you might want to call the BIA before you steps in buffalo shit.”
The deputy radios back to his dispatch and finds what Dave told him is true.
“I’m going to go talk with Ms. Ferris and try to get this resolved.” The frustrated deputy heads across the street.
As he approaches the walkway the whole scenario changes and Silvia Ferris comes down from her porch leaving Ricky wondering what will happen next.
Ricky is not unaccustomed to spending time at county facilities, so he figures this will be just another week or more of free meals and a couple months of community service which he never completes.
“I’m so sorry officer. This is such an embarrassment; I don’t know what to say. There is no problem here. I just made a mistake and I hope I have not caused too much trouble for you.” Silvia sounds so different that the deputy stops and stares.
“Are you sure? We don’t take these calls lightly. If there is a real problem we need to know. If someone else needs our help we sure don’t want to be out on a frivolous call.”
“I’m sure. It was all a misunderstanding that goes way back and you will not be hearing from me unless it is a real emergency.” Silvia is very apologetic in her tone.
“If something changes let us know.” The deputy turns and heads for his car stopping just before he gets in to stare in disbelief.
Silvia waves a friendly goodbye and everyone now thinks: “What was that about?”
***
Two thirty on Monday morning, a cool breeze, an open bedroom window and the sounds of buzzards mating awakens Dave and Cyn.
“What the hell is that?” Dave gets up to investigate the horrible noise. “Its over at Silvia’s place, sounds like she’s having some kind of seizure.”
“Sounds like an extended orgasm to me.” Cyn joins Dave at the window.
“Holy shit! Do you suppose she’s screwing Ricky?”
“Who else? They went into her house and didn’t leave.” Cyn smirks.
“I’m not sure who got pranked here. Sure don’t seem like it was Silvia.” Dave grimaces as another howl of ecstasy can be heard from Silvia’s bedroom window.
Cyn giggles with delight, “Well, I guess all she needed was a little wine and some sausage. I’m glad we could be good neighbors and help her out.”
Cyn is always the optimist.
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