= = = = = = = = = = = =
Chapter 8 - The Party
= = = = = = = = = = = =
The Masters boys were dressed, but looked a little sheepish. The Johnson sisters were beaming, their faces a little flushed. Must've been a pretty good time on the knife case, I presumed.
"So what's the deal?" I wanted to pack up and get out of here.
"Well," said Lizzie, the eldest. "The men here have fulfilled all of our needs-"
Erin laughed out loud and Kristin smacked her own forehead.
"...and we've got shoes, socks, and clothing for every one. And, Daddy man, we got you this awesome hat! Try it on!"
It was kind of a flat brim cowboy-type hat. Like Clint Eastwood wore in High-Plains Drifter and a few others.
"I like it! I love it! What's our price? Ok shoes we've got... yep... hey... Are we short a couple pairs? Who's not getting shoes."
Kristin answered. "We all got shoes, but, well... we're going to stay here. If that's okay."
Holy shit! So that was the price? Well I don't know if it's okay or not. I had to think fast.
"Look, we aren't trading people for stuff. We'll be fine without-"
"No Michael! Daddy... it's not like that. We really, really like them."
Things move quickly in the New World.
"Well, not so fast. This place is very vulnerable. Glass windows all over, the back door lock couldn't stop a seven-year-old..." Shit. What to do?
"Ok, boys. You're coming with us. You need to get Mama Gayle's approval. If you pass that test, then tomorrow we'll come back and fix this place up."
That seemed to sit okay with people. We were packing the Jeep with the clothing, when Morgan noticed the mound of fresh dirt. He stopped and stared at it, tears welling up in his eyes.
"When we come back tomorrow," I said. "We'll get him a nice cross and have a proper service, ok? I promise, kid."
He nodded, then hugged me. Kid had just lost his dad and brother. Poor guy.
We called up to the house, told them "Plus Two" for dinner.
- - -
There was great excitement at the house as the new boys were examined, admired, hugged.
But the Johnson sisters made it very clear; these boys were off-limits. And they seemed smitten with the sisters, so that was good. Then the girls discovered their new clothes, and the shrieking was nearly intolerable. Shoes that fit! Pants that fit! Underwear!
Erin and I immediately set to re-loading the magazines and cleaning the weapons. Always be ready for the next fight, you don't know when that will be. She wasn't too concerned about the new underwear.
"Only during the bad week," she said. "Rest of the time, I like to go commando. Speaking of which, who said you could go shooting sperms inside me?"
"Little slut!" I replied as I finished off another 30-round magazine. "Your period just ended, you've got a few more days until you ovulate. Thought you might like that."
"I did, Daddy-man. And whatever happens here, you can fuck whoever you want, I don't care. But you can always fuck me. Okay Daddy?"
"Okay, Little Tiger." We hugged and kissed.
"Maybe you should pay Mama Gayle a visit?"
"Ha, yeah. Well I'm not sure I'm too high on her list right now. She's not so pleased with some of the uh, whaddya call it, 'fornication' going on around here."
"You're such a dumb man. Although you did seem to be pounding Kaitlyn's ass pretty hard that night. And Gayle saw it all. Maybe we could try that sometime?"
"Yeah, sure, love to fuck you any where you want it!"
We heard someone coming down the hall and started talking business.
"So yeah, just push the patches through, without dinging the side of the barrel-"
"Hey guys!" It was Lorrie, Gayle's daughter. "Whatcha doing?"
"Hey girl!" said Erin.
"Just cleaning the guns," I explained. "When they fire, they leave residue and gunk. Gotta keep them clean so they will always work for us."
"Can you show me? I want to start doing this kind of stuff with you guys! I've shot before. And I'm feeling all better." Lorrie gave me her sweetest smile she had, which was a fucking nice one that could very well send a thousand ships to war.
So I started explaining the various parts of the broken-apart AR-15 and what they did. Erin winked at me, then left to go take a shower.
Lorrie scooted in closer, obviously to get all the information she could. Never mind that her breast pressed into my arm. Her breast that was barely contained in the cotton T-shirt. The breast that was unfettered because a bra would upset the stitches on her back.
"You guys have killed a lot of zombies, haven't you."
"Yeah, about a hundred just today."
"Well I want to pull my weight around here. Can you teach me?"
"Well, Lorrie... sweetie... we've got to get you all healed up first. Killing Zachary can be easy, with a gun, but it can also get real tough real fast. How's your back been doing?"
If you recall, she was nearly unconscious when I first found her. She had a sliced up back that started around her left neck and went all the way down to her pantline on the right side. I sewed her up, but her mom had been seeing to her ever since.
"It's good! Look!"
And she pulled up her shirt, and took it off and handed it to me. She quickly covered her nipples with her hands and turned around to show me her back. But mostly all I could see was the side of her tits, even from behind her. They were that big. I threw her shirt over my shoulder.
"Well?" she asked coyly. "How am I doing?"
Fucking great is how you're doing.
"Jesus um, uh, where's your mom? She should be checking this for you."
"Oh she's all talking to those new guys. They're hitting it off. So?"
So I looked at the stitches. She took the bandages off yesterday to let it breathe. I never stitched anything before. The job itself looked terrible, but the skin was holding and wasn't infected.
"I think you're going to live," I pronounced.
She turned around and hugged me, gently. But her tits pressed firmly into my stomach.
"Lorrie-" I began, but she cut me off.
"Daddy, I mean... Michael... I just wanted to thank you for saving me."
I held her gently on her lower hips. Her bare hips. Jesus Christ her skin is so soft and warm...
