Jim Archer, jr. sat in the seat of the small tractor, looking over the field they'd just finished picking. He was sore and bone tired from the day's labor, but it was well worth it.... once the beans were properly dried and sealed away in jars, they'd have enough to last through til' next fall.
The hundred acres of fields outside of the town proper, though it hadn't been ideal, had responded well with the numerous tons of compost he'd been prepping with over the past three years, and his first actual crops had been more than adequate. The backyard garden they'd first started with hadn't been.
His wife, Debbie, was in the field next to this one, picking tomatoes, which had also done well. He looked in her direction, amazed at the transformation. Life on the farm agreed with her; she was nearly back to her pre-pregnancy weight.
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught his look and yelled out "Hey! Instead of just sitting there, how about getting your ass over here and giving me a hand!?"
He just smiled, took another swig from his water bottle, and fired the small tractor back up, once again lowering the disc harrow back to the ground and putting the machine back in gear, continuing where he had left off. The old bean plants had to be harrowed thoroughly before he could add more compost to the field, and he wanted to get it all done before the first snow, of course, as it all had to be plowed under within the next month. The work never seemed to end around here. During the winter, he'd be teaching another class of young marksmen, and running some of the senior students through a driver's training course. Between those two duties, he had to fit in running his traplines and getting at least one deer to feed his growing family.
A startled shriek from his wife brought him out of his reverie; looking in the direction of her gaze, he saw what had gained her attention..... three wolves were slinking towards the cattle pen.
Reaching behind him, he grabbed for the scoped .308 rifle he always had slung across the seat back. Chambering a round as he jumped off the tractor, he ran toward her, stepping just past her and stopping, in between the furry invaders and his family. Shouldering the big rifle, he took careful aim and squeezed the trigger.
The heavy round went through the lead wolf, and by an odd twist of fate, ricocheted off a rib and clipped the second animal in the top of the head. It didn't kill it, but it sent him running and the last of the three ran off, trying to catch up. Jimmy worked the bolt, loading another round, but it was too late.... they'd made it to the treeline and vanished into the woods.
When he turned around, Debbie was standing by the stroller, holding their son to her breast as the little nipper nursed. She smiled as she noticed him watching.
"The gunshot woke him up.... I figured this is as good a time as any to feed him his lunch."
"Save some for me."
"Yeah, right.... you can make do with the cow's milk. Bobby needs this more than you do. Besides, when you finish this field, you need to get on the firewood situation. We're going to need more soon."
He sighed heavily, knowing she was right. He had five standing dead trees currently, that he'd been meaning to drop when he found the time.... they used firewood year 'round, to heat water for cooking and bathing. He would have to get on that after lunch.... and after field dressing that wolf....
Mike O'Connell stood on the stage of the old high school auditorium, proud of all they'd accomplished in the past four months. The first of the trainees had completed their version of basic training, and were now chomping at the bit for a bit of action.
Action they would get, soon enough.... the Cubans had set up another camp, to the east of his ranch, and they'd have to be dealt with before long.
Nobody wanted them getting too comfortable, after all.... of course, he had an ace in the hole. Several of his ranchhands had been taking time off from their farm duties--with his full blessing-- and going out at night, scouting out the camp and occasionally picking off one or two of the foreign soldiers with silenced rifles.
This, of course, didn't sit well with the Cuban Commander, who railed at his subordinates about keeping a better watch. He'd lost nearly fifty men, and nobody had heard or seen a thing.
What's more, every last one had been a head shot, except for one, in which the .308 round had gone through the neck, nearly decapitating the man.
When Mike got that report from his scout, he remarked "Now you're just showing off!"
Far to the north, in Michigan, Jerry was unloading from another moderately successful scavenging run. He'd run across an old automotive parts store warehouse, and had found half a dozen new-old car batteries and four cases of sulfuric acid. Those, he knew, would come in handy; he could use them, after flushing the cells with distilled water, to recondition a bunch of batteries, before hooking them in to the solar cells and three windmills that currently powered his home.
He barely had time to unload all of this in his storage battery charging room when Janet pulled up on her four wheeler, Bear running along behind her.
"Hi, Honey.... find anything good this time?"
He smiled at the question.... for a grown woman, his girlfriend could be a bit childlike at times.... 'Daddy, daddy, what did you bring me!?'
"Not much on this run, Babe.... found a bunch of brand new fishing lures in the stockroom of an old sporting goods store, and a couple of boxes of .38 special ammo.... useless to me, of course, but I can use them for trading. Did find something for Bear, though."
The big hound's ears pricked up at the mention of his name. Jerry grinned, throwing the big dog a rawhide chew toy, in the shape of a bone, nearly a foot long.
Janet smiled as the dog ran off with his prize. "Good... he has something to occupy him for a while.... maybe it'll keep his attention away from the chickens."
"He's been going after the chickens?" He asked, while he continued to unload the big truck. The next things out were a big box of fan belts and a small spool of heater hose.
She nodded.... "I think he's just playing with them.... he'll chase them across the yard, then lay down with his head on his legs, but as soon as they come back, and start pecking for worms around him, he jumps up, barking his head off and chasing the nearest one across the yard again. It's like a game to him."
"Well, does it keep him entertained?"
"Yeah, but it makes the chickens nervous.... and nervous hens don't lay as many eggs."
"Time to build a chicken yard, then... " he muttered to himself, wondering where he could dig up some chain link fence that wasn't all rusted to shit. With Bear, ordinary chicken wire would be worse than useless.... even if he could find any.
Three old, new in the box radiators and four sets of car stereo speakers joined the small pile behind the truck, followed by two car stereos... the radios themselves were useless, but the CD players were still usable... and he'd been wanting something to listen to in the garage and in his workshop for some time now. Behind these were several cases of oil, fuel, and air filters, and his biggest prize of all, a half full thirty five gallon drum of motor oil.
He flipped his keys to Janet, saying "Do me a favor, hun.... go inside, unbolt the garage door, and bring me out that wagon... gotta get this stuff inside." He went back to unloading, next grabbing a boxful of preserved foods that he'd traded for in a small town in Indiana. It was a fair amount of food, but he was a long way from being prepared for the bitter Michigan winter. Two cases of plastic 'cans' of coffee followed these, followed by two big boxes of pasta dinners, an assortment of alfredo, mac and cheese, and stroganoff in sealed foil bags. Both big boxes were wrapped in shrink wrap, so it might still be good. He'd found these hidden away in the back of an old, mostly looted grocery store. The last thing he pulled out was his rifle and two pistols.
Janet came out of the concealed door, pulling the big wagon behind her, and the first thing he loaded into it was the big barrel, struggling with the twenty-odd gallon weight; getting it into the truck had been so much easier, considering he'd had a ceiling mounted chain fall to lift the weight..... meanwhile, she jumped in the now-empty truck and pulled it around to the lean-to and parked it. He had to make five trips with the wagon, but before long everything was put away.
He grabbed several packages of the alfredo pasta, a can of coffee, and two jars of the homemade jams and headed for the kitchen. Inside, she opened up the fridge, showing him the gallon of fresh milk and three pounds of butter she'd brought over the day before.
After dinner, they sat in the living room, and Jerry was just about to pull out his big water pipe when he slapped himself on the forehead and jumped from his seat. "Be right back!" he said, as he ran from the room.
He was back in a few minutes, three long wooden boxes in his arms. When he set them down, she realized they were cabinets; each of them had two wide, short drawers, side by side. He pulled out the first drawer and started pulling out DVDs, muttering "Got that already" or "Seen that one.... it stunk." He piled up nine like this, figuring he could use them for trading.
He pulled open the next drawer and whistled, long and low, at the contents.... all thirty of them were copies of concerts by groups long dead.
Pulling out several and setting three of them on the DVD player, he turned on the power for it and the 52" Plasma TV he'd scrounged the year before. Flipping on the power for the ancient home theater stereo amp, he chose an old Rush concert and moved to the couch next to Janet. Pulling a small plastic bottle from his pocket, he emptied it on the table and picked up some small chunks, putting them in the bowl of the water pipe, using a long, thin stick held in the fire in the woodburning stove to light it and taking an experimental hit. Nodding to himself, he handed the hose and mouthpiece off to Janet, watching her eyes light up as she tasted it.
"This is really good."
He grinned and nodded. "The guy I got it from had a small field of it.... about a hundred plants... and not a single male plant or seed in sight. I think he said they were all clones off about thirty mother plants. I swapped him two of those alternators and ten feet of radiator hose for a pound of it."
"Cool."
Eight hundred miles away, in Kentucky, Seth Jones was laying back, in Heaven. His Aunt Julie was slowly riding his hard cock, while her daughter Marie was happily riding his moustache. He had both hands full of the meaty cheeks of her ass, trying desperately to hold her in place while he lapped away at her juicy lips, occasionally taking a swipe at her exposed clit with the tip of his tongue, making her squeal and jump a bit.
Her mother clamped down with the muscles in her well-experienced cunt, squeezing him tight as an orgasm overtook her, moaning in pure joy at the feeling, reaching forward to kiss the back of her daughter's neck.
She loved these little slices of family time.... and her nephew was particularly gifted. He was built a fair bit bigger than her ex, and had a lot more stamina to boot. Frank had always been a 'three minute man'... at best. Seth was good for fifteen minutes or more... the first time. Usually, his second hard on lasted .... forever.
She moaned again as she came, drenching his balls and thighs in her juices, clamping even tighter on him. He responded by thrusting back up into her, hard, again and again, grunting with the effort and picking up speed. Soon, they were fucking along like demented rabbits.
It couldn't last much longer, though; soon he felt that tingling in the nut sack, and he could no longer hold back, pumping cum deep inside his aunt. As soon as she rolled off of him, and lay by his side, on her back, Marie moved over to her, licking the ropes of cum from her mother's still gaping pussy.
Seth glanced at the bedside clock and saw 3:30.... 'Oh Shit!' ran through his mind as he jumped out of the bed.
His Aunt was startled at all of this. "Where the Hell are you goin', boy? We ain't finished here!"
He nodded his head. "Oh yes we are. I'm supposed to be in class in about ten minutes."
