Dan and the Bottle Ch. 22

He moved towards her, unbuttoning his own shirt and pants, and stepped out of them as he joined her, moving to kiss her, long and slow, reaching for one of her firm 34Cs, fondling her small breasts as their tongues danced together, then pushed her to her back, pulling the thong off her and diving face first between her thighs, fluttering his tongue all over her labia for long moments.

"Oh GOD YES, eat my pussy!" she exclaimed, as he found her clit with his overly active tongue. She was laying back with her legs spread, squeezing her own tits and pinching her nipples almost to the point of pain. After her third orgasm, he moved up, lining up his firm six and a half inches with the opening, he thrust into her, eliciting a sound from her that was somewhere between a moan and a scream.

She clamped her thighs around him, her bare heels drumming at his ass as he pounded into her. humping back against him as both lost all control. He was soon pumping ribbons of cum deep inside her, grunting out his pleasure at the ultimate release.

Five hours later, they pulled into their home base in northern Idaho to report.

Colonel Tom Campbell listened as the young couple made their reports, he couldn't hide his amusement at their explanation for why they were late in returning.

"Couldn't help yourselves, huh?"

Mike grinned as he shook his head. "What's the point of having a backpack full of deadly toys if we can't get 'em out and play with them, Sir?"

Campbell grinned back. He knew that Mike was an old hand with explosives... the men in his old scouting team had, in fact, nicknamed him 'Kid Dynamite.'

Of course, he also knew that explosives weren't the only things Mike had been playing with... the way Cathy was blushing, there was no doubt the two had stopped somewhere along the line for a bit of celebratory sex.

"What point, indeed. Did you leave any of the camp standing?"

"Not much of it, no... we set them back a good month or so. We left a few of them alive, too, so they could spread tales about being attacked by some huge force. We want 'em runnin' scared, jumpin' at shadows."

Campbell nodded, smiling. "Well, if what we're getting over the shortwave is any indicator, you've accomplished that. Leave me the coordinates, go get some chow and some rest, I've got another one for you, but it'll keep for a few days... but this one'll probably be strictly scout only... no contact. Dismissed."

He kept his suspicions about the missing hour from their timeline to himself.

Although he was enthusiastic, Marsh Johnson was far too old for the rigors of the militia training. He did, however, possess a keen mind, and took up the mantle of their 'Chief of intelligence' quite naturally. Over his wife's objections, he'd turned an entire room in his home into his intel office, covering the walls with maps of the state, county, and the local area, and had brought in a large quantity of radio equipment.

One of his ranch hands was an amateur radio operator, and as a bonus, was fluent in Spanish, so he assisted the old man in monitoring the transmissions of the Cubans and sorting through the scouting reports. When the Cuban base, twenty five miles away, sent in requests for supplies and replacements, they knew about it before Havana got the message, and knew the exact date and time such supplies and reinforcements were due to arrive.

The troops weren't completely ready, but Mike O'Connell knew it was now or never. If Johnson's information was correct, the Cubans were getting a massive resupply and at least a hundred reinforcements. Chet Nelson had already turned out over thirty silencers for them, using rifles from Mike's private stash and half a dozen hunting rifles that had come from the storage lockers the crews were searching... and he still had a whole stack of guns that he was working on.

He went slowly through the rolls of his people, choosing the forty best shooters he had, and looked over the maps at Marsh's place, looking for the best spot for an ambush.

The guard was at the spot he'd chosen a week early, preparing the old section of dirt road well ahead of time.

On a hilltop overlooking the road, a large outcropping of rock was wired with dynamite. Once triggered, the ensuing rockslide should be enough to effectively block the road. Similar charges were buried in the road itself, at distances of four, five, and six hundred yards down the road, with the idea that one of them might be used to destroy the last truck in the convoy. Unable to move forward or backward, the Cuban convoy would, theoretically, at least, be easy pickings.

A week later, all of their careful preparations bore fruit. The rockslide at the front end of the convoy was almost too late, the rocks tumbling down the hillside impacting the lead truck and flipping it on it's side, while the charges at the other end thoroughly destroyed an armored personnel carrier that was bringing up the rear, flipping it upside down and landing it squarely on top of the truck in front of it, which had been carrying troops. Not many of them made it out of the truck alive, and those who did found themselves coming under fire from an unknown number of snipers.

Jimmy Rudd was having the time of his life, laying prone on a hilltop, his .458 sniper's rifle roaring again and again, popping Cubans as fast as they unassed their trucks. He'd already run through five of the ten round magazines and had only missed twice, so he was racking up a pretty impressive score.

He popped in a fresh magazine, chambered a round, and went back to looking for targets, startled for a second by a Cuban running towards his position waving an AK47. He took careful aim at the center of the enemy's chest... and just as he squeezed the trigger, the Cuban tripped, falling headlong towards him. The bullet meant for his heart instead pierced the top of his skull, killing him almost instantly.

'Okay, that was weird.' He thought, before going back to looking for fresh targets.

The ambush was successful, up to a point... they lost four men and three women in the battle, but managed to kill over a hundred Cubans and gained six truckloads of supplies, everything from fresh beef and vegetables to cases of ammunition to a truckload of full fifty five gallon drums of fuel.

Mark Powell sat back in the small lunchroom he'd set up for store employees, Mike across the table from him, both digging in to stacks of pancakes. Mark had used the past week to evaluate the kid, and though he didn't know a lot about reading and math, he was street smart to an insane level. It was no surprise that he'd managed to survive so long alone, but now it was time to smooth out the rough edges.

While they were having their breakfast, a woman walked in to the front of the store and asked Pete where she could find Mark. Two minutes later, she was at the door to the lunchroom.

"Am I interrupting anything?"

"Ah, Rachel! C'mon in... I was hoping you'd drop by today. This young man is Michael Cooke; we found him up in South Carolina. He was a refugee from Boston. He's been on his own for a very long time, and he doesn't really know much about reading, writing, basic math... I was wondering, do you think you could teach him? He isn't afraid of hard work... I was thinking, he could help you at your farm, and you could give him lessons in the evenings."

Rachel Henderson was a little taken aback at the request; she'd been running her small farm alone since her husband had been killed in a bandit raid, almost four years ago. It might be nice to have a young man around the house again... and she had several projects going on that she couldn't handle on her own.

"You do know that I don't have enough food at the house for two people, right?"

Mark grabbed at his chest in mock pain.

"Rachel! You wound me! Do you really think I'd burden you with another mouth to feed, and not set you up with groceries to handle it?" he grinned at her, pausing for effect. "Not to worry, my dear... We just got done bringing in a bunch of stuff, and the trading has been brisk. We've been buying groceries from all over the area, and we're stocked up to the ceiling. C'mon out to the store with me, we'll get you set up."

Mike had been silent the whole time, just watching the exchange between the two, who were obviously old friends, before finally speaking up.

"Why can't I stay here?"

Mark smiled at this, a little sadly.

"Mike, I know, this is a bit sudden, all of these changes, but I want to see to it that you get properly educated. You might not think it's important right now, but trust me, it's something you need, and that desperately. Mrs. Henderson needs help at her farm, too, so you'd be helping her as much as she helps you. I know she's got a good sized farmhouse, too, and she's a hell of a lot better cook than me and Pete. You can actually have a real bed to sleep in, instead of that lumpy old couch, and your own bedroom. I'm no teacher; I think you already figured that out-"

Mike nodded, grinning.

"Mrs. Henderson here, is... she's been teaching local kids here for the past ten years, at least."

Rachel smiled thinly at that and remarked "Twenty, actually, but if you ever say that out loud, where other people can hear, I'll punch you in the mouth... makes me feel old."

Mike looked back at her, eyes wide. "You don't look old!"

Rachel turned to him, smiling a bit sadly. "Aren't you the sweetheart! Honey, I'm old enough to be your mother..."

A dark cloud crossed his face, and she sensed she'd crossed an unseen line.

"My momma was killed, a long time ago."

"Oh, dear... bad memories? How did she die?"

"The cannibals caught her."

"Cannibals!?!"

He nodded sadly. "I was still little, back then... I had to make my way alone ever since... until I ran into Mark and his people."

"Honey, I am So sorry... how long were you alone?"

"I don't know... it's been a long time. I finally got tired of running from the cannibals and did what momma told me to do, when she was still alive... I found an old bicycle and ran away."

"You rode a bike from Boston to South Carolina?!"

He nodded. "I didn't want to walk." was his simple answer, which brought smiles to the two older adults.

"Ok... well, would you like to come live with me? I could definitely use the help, and you can learn to read in the evenings."

"I don't know anything about a farm, though."

"Don't worry... I can teach you that, too. I've got cows, horses, chickens, pigs, rabbits, and a few sheep. You can learn to help me take care of those, too."

Turning to Mark, she lifted an eyebrow. "He's going to need some things... rubber boots, gloves, extra clothes... "

Mark smiled. "My store is at your disposal. No charge- he's earned it anyway. C'mon, let's get you set up."

Over the next hour, the three of them walked through the aisles, filling a shopping cart with enough food to last the two of them for the next few months, plus a dozen pair of jeans, a dozen t-shirts, a stout pair of work boots, several pair of sturdy gloves, and underwear and socks that Mark had found months ago, in the back of an old department store, still new in the packaging.

By the time they were done, the bed of Mrs. Henderson's little farm truck was over half full.

Over the next month, Rachel taught young Michael everything he needed to know to be a successful farmer. Some of it he wasn't wild about- mucking out the animal pens and stalls was definitely not on his list of favorite things to do. He did show an aptitude for driving a tractor, though, and soon became adept at hooking up the various farm implements. He was surprised at how much she actually did by hand, like harvesting the wheat field. Hand threshing the wheat was backbreaking work, and for those three days of the harvest, they both went to their beds exhausted, without the usual reading lessons.

It was a huge adjustment for him... she taught him how to cook, a novel sensation for a boy who had grown up eating everything out of cans, aside from the occasional rat, and he soon grew to appreciate what went into preparing even the simplest of meals; she even taught him to bake bread. The two of them worked every day, from just after the sunrise 'til just before the sunset, and he learned a lot... he actually liked picking the strawberries, the blueberries, the peaches and the apples, mostly because he could sneak a few of the fruit when he thought she wasn't looking. She saw everything, of course, but chose not to say anything.

After all, she'd done the same thing, when her dad was still alive, back when she'd been younger than Mike was now.

They had just finished loading all of the animal manure into the manure spreader, and since it wasn't more than half a load, she told him to just leave it for the time being, and they'd wait to spread it in the fallow field the next afternoon, after another day of 'deposits' by the various animals.

"What's next, then, Ma'am?"

"Depends... do you know how to swim?"

"What is 'swim'?"

She grinned and patted the seat of the old quadrunner behind her. "Get on... I'll show you."

He climbed on behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist as she told him to do, and they were off. It was a fast, bumpy ride, and he had a hard time because his hands kept sliding upwards until he was cupping her ample breasts.

She wasn't exactly a slim woman; she had a bit of a stomach, with large breasts and thick thighs... in fact, she reminded him, a little, of his mother. His mother, though, had never made him feel funny below the waist, as this woman did, and he had no real idea what to make of the sudden hardness he was feeling in his groin.

After a ten minute ride, they pulled up to the pond that the horses drank from, and she shut the engine down, climbing off and indicating that he should do the same. Reaching for the top button of her work shirt, she started to get undressed, much to his amazement.

"Well, don't just stand there! Get your clothes off!"

He shook his head. "I can't... momma said it wasn't right."

'She raised him to be a gentleman' Rachel thought, as she stopped for a moment to think it over.

"What did she tell you, exactly?"

"Well... she told me I should never look at a woman undressing unless it was my wife, and I should never take my clothes off in front of a woman who wasn't my wife."

"Ok... did she tell you what a wife is?"

He nodded. "She said my wife would be my partner in life... she'd be the woman who loved me, just like she did, only more. My wife would be the woman I wanted to spend the rest of my life with."

"Ok... You and I, we're already partners, aren't we?"

He thought about it for a moment, then nodded. "I guess so..."

She walked up to him, after unbuttoning her work shirt down to her navel. Wrapping her arms around his waist and kissing him on the cheek. "Would you like to stay here, with me, for the rest of your life?" she breathed in his ear.

He was getting that same funny feeling again, and the same hardness in his groin. "I... I think so..."

She reached between them, giving his hardening cock a gentle squeeze. "Feels like someone agrees with you." she replied with an impish grin.

"But... but didn't you say you were old enough to be my mama?"

She smiled at that, a bit sadly... "Honey, if two people love each other, a few years shouldn't keep them apart. Do you love me?"

He nodded so hard it looked like his head was on a swivel. "Of course I do!"

"Well, then, it's settled... I am officially your woman. Now take your clothes off, dear, and let's get into the water."

He began to take his clothes off, stopping briefly to watch her swaying breasts as she finished pushing her jeans down and stepped out of them. Now she was naked while he was still fumbling with the button of his jeans, and she stepped up to him, taking care of the offending button in record time and pushing his jeans and underwear down together until she was kneeling before him, staring directly at his hard seven inches. She smiled... he was a bit bigger than her dead husband, and she hadn't had anything but her fingers since he had died. Her pussy seemed to contract a bit as she stared at it, and she could already feel her juices starting to flow. That quickly, she changed her mind; teaching him to swim could wait.

She grinned and stood, taking him by the hand, tugging him in the direction of a small hill.

"I thought we were going in the water?" he asked.

She smiled at his confusion, thinking that, if she hadn't believed his story about Boston, and being alone all of that time before, she could well believe it now... but now, he was a man full grown... they'd already determined that he was at least into his twenties, so she wouldn't fell too bad about sleeping with the much younger man... even if he did have the mind of a child. He wasn't slow, just... unexposed. She knew his mother had never gotten the chance to explain the 'birds and bees' to him, and as he'd never even mentioned his father, she guessed he'd never known the man. He hadn't really learned much about the world; it would be her job to teach him... and she knew what lesson she wanted him to learn next.

She sat down on the hillside and patted the soft ground beside her. "Sit down for a minute, first. There's something else I want to teach you, right now."

He sat down beside her, curious. 'What can I learn like this?"

"This." she replied, reaching for his lips with her own.

It started as a brief meeting of the lips, just a short, dry kiss, but she kept moving back in, pecking light butterfly kisses all over his mouth. He gasped a little as she pulled his hand up, cupping it firmly over her breast, before reaching for his now rock hard cock.

He wasn't quite sure what to do with his hand, but instinct took over as the little spike of her nipple brushed against his palm, and he began to squeeze her big tit lightly.

"MMMMmmm... Baby, are you sure you haven't been with a woman before? You sure seem to know what you're doing."

He started to say something, but she cut him off, sliding her tongue into his mouth, pulling him down with her as she lay back against the hillside.

For long minutes, they lay together, kissing and fondling and stroking, their tongues, by now, sliding against each other, and she reached for his hand on her breast, pulling it down between her widespread thighs, rubbing it against her now wide open pussy lips, using his hand to masturbate with. She knew she was on the brink, and wanted her first orgasm to be with him inside her.

With that thought in mind, she pulled his hand away and pushed him back, then rolled on top of him, still joined at the lips. He groaned into her mouth as her pussy lips spread further, engulfing his hardness in an instant. She began to ride him, slowly at first, bringing both of his hands to her ample breasts.

He wasn't sure what she was doing, but it felt so good, he didn't care... he began thrusting back up at her, but she smiled, put a hand on his chest, and shook her head.

"Not yet, hun... let me do it."

She rode him slowly, squeezing her pussy muscles around his hardness and moaning intensely, her first orgasm rocking her to her core. She began speeding up, intensifying the next orgasm, which was already building up inside of her.

"UNghhh... oh God that's good!" she cried out, hanging on to him for dear life as the spasms took her in their embrace. She kept up the rolling of her hips, and he took over, grabbing her by the waist and thrusting up into her with almost bone breaking force, his hips a near-blur. Finally, he felt a pulsing coming from his hard cock, as he shot his load inside her. He didn't know what had just happened, but it felt so good that he kept going, and she shuddered as she came again.