Oil paint rolls and mounds up in front of the scraper like snow in front of a snowplow. Or maybe I should stick with saying that it’s like scraping ...alf-congealed fat from a frying pan. Week-old paint like I was scraping has a skin on the surface that kind of stretches a bit and then rolls up or breaks into segments. Underneath is the softer stuff that mounds and piles up on your scraper.I didn’t want to be scraping old paint. I wanted to be painting. I had this picture filling my head that was. Anna was upstairs in her room at that time. "Go see her," Miss Kitty said to him as he came into the house. Miss Kitty broke her number one rule in letting Clint go into Anna's room, but the circumstances were that serious. Clint went upstairs and knocked on her door, hearing her sobbing behind it. He opened the door to see Anna laying on the bed with Tracy and Maria attending to her. Seeing Clint was there now, the girls left, kissing Anna on the head and touching Clint on the arm. Tracy. .. the black man had then coaxed mom on her knees, as he unzipped his pants, revealing his thick, dark cock. As he coaxed his huge black rod into mom's soft, warm mouth, I had rubbed the bulge in my PJs, listening to the stranger's groans and mom's soft slurping noises as she serviced his dirty black cock with her sweet white mouth , her soft pink lips stretched wide by its sheer girth.I tried not to moan from my own pleasure as I stroked my bulge, as I watched the strange black man grab mom. There was one additional problem that no one had yet considered. Namely what would the Captain and remaining three crewmen do now? Elmcrygh was a burned out ruin and without guards or any means of defense, and the ship and crew could not linger here near the river's end. They could sail no further south, but yet returning north was clearly hazardous. Even if they could reach Silana once again, the choices of either continuing east or returning west back to the hopeful safety of Swanford were.