The Parties Next Door

Fbailey story number 777


The Parties Next Door


As I grew up my family lived right next door to a wild tavern. Mom tried to class it up by calling it a bar but the sign said Tavern.

Our old fence was falling apart so one spring I helped Dad install a new one. The best price on privacy fence was for five-foot tall sections. That was not going to do it for my father but financially he gave in. What he did decide was to raise it up eighteen inches off the ground. That way only seven foot tall people could look over it and the patrons to the Tavern were usually too drunk to crawl under it. So we put up nearly seventy-five feet of fence. We drilled big holes in the ground, planted four by four posts, and concerted them in place every eight feet. It took us almost three weeks but it looked good when we were done.

Saturday nights were when things always got loud over there.

Dad came in and said, “Get your camera and come out here and be quick about it.”

I scrambled and went out. It was about five o’clock and it was still pretty bright out. Dad pointed to a spot in the fence with feet showing. Suddenly the feet spread, panties went to their ankles, and a pussy fell into view. Dad hit me and I started taking pictures.

Then Dad asked, “Does that thing take video?”

I nodded and changed the setting. I watched a whole line of women stand near the fence, drop their pussies into view, and start peeing. Almost all of the pussies were bald. Occasionally a tuff of hair on their mounds would come into view. Then a big hairy pussy dropped into view. There was an endless line of women pissing at our fence. Then I ran out of memory. Dad sent me into the house to dump it onto my computer and come back out.

As the day went by I saw more and more tattoos on the women’s pussies. The same tattoo would come back every half-hour or so.

Dad said, “I wonder who that yellow smiley face belongs too.”

I said, “We could put a surveillance camera up”

Dad lit up and asked, “Can we conceal it so that they don’t know?”

I replied, “We can put it in a bird house.”

Dad smiled.

The next day he bought me a real video camera and two surveillance cameras. He bought two birdhouses and plenty of cable that we buried under the grass a few inches.