Them that Helps Themselves

That evening Jeb declared that he wanted to show Annie around the farm. Sarah and Aunt Rachel were deep into a conversation on the doings in Virginia that Sarah had left behind years earlier. Ruth had expressed interest in accompanying Jeb and Annie on their walk, but Jeb had discouraged it and Ruth had been interested in the conversation between Sarah and Rachel anyway, so she stayed behind.

Beside the pond below the falls and at the edge of the cotton grove, Jeb pulled Annie into his side, turned her face to his, and kissed her on the lips. She murmured that no man had kissed her before, but she didn't say she didn't enjoy him doing so. She moaned and said no man had done this before either, when Jeb's hand went up under her skirt, found her mound, and began working her clit and cunt opening with his fingers.

"Should we be doing this, Cousin?" Annie whispered after searching for the words that would put all of the responsibility on him but wouldn't encourage him to desist.

"You are ripe for a man," Jeb answered, his other hand having worked its way inside her bodice and finding her nipples taut and full with arousal. "I am the only man here. If you want the pleasure of lying with a man and giving him babies, the time is here and is now. God helps them that help themselves. You do know what we have to do to give you a baby, don't you?"

"Yes, I know," Annie whispered. That certainly didn't sound like a "no" to Jeb.

On all fours on the mossy ground beside the pond, and the worst of the first time over with Jeb's initial gently probing and pressing his cock past her entrance, Annie writhed and cried out her ecstasy as Jeb thrust deeper into her and pumped her in every stronger and faster strokes to the climax of both and Jeb's first seeding of her ripe, young womb.

After a rest, while Jeb was mulling what had happened over in his mind, searching to assure himself that Annie had sanctioned the act, they were facing each other on their sides in the moss. Jeb was holding the base of cock with a hand, using the hand to guide the cock bulb within the folds of his cousin's cunt and rubbing the underside of the shaft on her clit. He got all the answer he needed on her willingness when she pushed him over on his back, impaled herself deeply on his cock and began to rock back and forth on the shaft, coaxing his seed to rise again inside him.

* * * *

Seven months later, a stranger, a handsome young and muscular man rode up to the door of the cabin, seeking employment. He had heard that Clem Ritchey had died and the family was without a patriarch. He knew how difficult life was on the frontier for women living and scraping for themselves. He'd heard that the Ritchey woman were both comely—the mother a shapely strawberry blond and the daughter a voluptuous golden blond with red highlights. Both women must be frantic now to have a man plowing their fields by day and their cunts by night. Easy pickings, he thought.

As soon as he'd seen who must be the daughter come out of the cabin door and was struck with the play of the sun with the red highlights in her hair. She was small but voluptuous and the stranger went hard at the thought of what color the hair "down there" would be as he glided his hard shaft into the forbidden folds.

No one had told him there was a son, so he assumed the women would be hot for a protector. Clem had managed to keep his neighbors from knowing that, as a man in his early twenties was worth his weight in gold for families looking for extra hands in the field and with daughters to provide for.

As the man on his horse tipped his hat, the rest of the Ritchey women came out of the cabin and formed a line across the porch. He looked upon them now with dismay—not because they weren't beauties, because they were and there were four of them rather than the two he had expected. What shocked him was that the both older woman had big bellies, revealing they were with child. So did the two younger women. The blond beauty with the red highlights was voluptuous because she had been breeded. And one of the other women was handing an infant in the blond daughter's arms and a toddler clutching at the skirts of another of the older woman, the redheaded one who must be the mother.

There had to be a man around somewhere. A man who had been very busy.

After they had filed out and cast their eyes on the stranger—and he thought he could see that the two younger women looked upon him with interest, a young man emerged from the cabin. He was carrying a rifle held loosely across his chest. The stranger wasn't fooled. He knew the rifle would be brought to bear on him before he could get his out of his saddle hostler.

"Howdy," he said, tipping his hat to the young man. "I heard that your family might need an extra hand, so I—" He was mighty interested in the guarded but coquettish looks the two younger women were casting toward him. Once they'd dropped those babies, there was every reason to think they would be quite pleasurable to handle. And the thought rose again inside him of moving the bulb of his shaft around in blond pubic hair with red highlights until he shot it home and did a little breeding of his own.

"You think wrong, sir," Jeb answered in a deep-resounding and assured baritone voice. "But thanks for your concern. We are doing quite well, thank you. Our family motto is 'God helps them that helps themselves,' and we are managing with that just fine."

I can certainly see that you are helping yourself, the stranger thought of Jeb, enjoying an internal chuckle but more than a bit disappointed that he couldn't share in the bounty. Nonetheless, he tipped his hat again and rode away. There was no arguing with a passel of women already getting a good plowing—and a man able to keep four women pregnant and happy too, for that matter—and it never was good to argue with a loosely held hunting rifle.