“Keep reading that old news huh…” Farah caught me reading on a laid back state.
“Ahhm..yeah… just wanna connect the dots and yes, I am afraid that science is correct.” I said.
“Well, we’ll just be ready if that’s the case.” She replied while sitting on the bed applying some Nivea Skin Milk or something on her legs exposing her whole flawless limb.
“We’ll just work again tomorrow and see what’s in store for us. It’s going to be tough but we can do it.” I replied while she stood up to return the lotion to her dresser. She faced me exposing her body covered slightly by her semi-transparent lingerie emphasizing the cleavage of her breasts; nipples on a standing and firm position leaving a marker her silky body covering. I was drawn away from an unfamiliar route, hypnotize and, mesmerized and overly tantalized --- feels like I’m 18!
“Pack!” My check sounded with a partial pain and redness. Hey!” She exclaimed.
Unconsciously, she slapped me on my right cheek causing me to snap out. Her face so close, body arched over covering me partially with her hair naturally caressing my face. With a blast natural instinct, my lips touched hers. Our subsequent actions suspended, as our tough mingled and intertwined in a fast beat like sixteen year old kids trying it for the first time. Heartbeats bang back and forth as our breathing rates increase by the moment. Seeing me like a hungry animal gluttonously wanting for a meal. I gently ravaged her physical attributes by starting to undress her, getting the plum colored lingerie off her body. In a flash, her exposed self, bare and naked made her feel like a newborn. I lay her down in be bed with me on top kissing her on the lips, nape and neck while my hands fast as a lightning exploring the faculties of her body; a job which I have already memorized as routine but tonight is just not the same; as if, it is our last. I reached down to the focal point of her femininity gently locating the keywords and fertile places of her hairless genitals. I played and enjoyed every moment as my rights hands down on the third base while my lips slowly conquering the second base --- her breasts. It was soft and pink, cuddly and firm. I am now like an infant but who cares? Tongue swiped across and between her two breasts as I made sure that both have an equal share of foreplay.
Slight groaning and moaning sounds from Farah’s came out though slightly in a shy mode. Yes of course she is a quiet dancing partner but the more she groans, the more I love it because it means she is delighted. My lips and tongue instinctively moved down to the end of the wire. I gently removed my finger on her and perform a long lasting cannilingus on her and she went haywire. Sweaty and natural lubricants naturally squirted out as her groan increased her volume. I concentrated to gently lick her g spot without being carried away by too much excitement.
“Come on over here honey, my turn.” She offered.
“Never mind honey I haven’t washed up. All I did is brush and shave. Don’t worry, leave me be to do a gentleman’s act. I just want you to eat me clean.” I replied.
She just succumbed to an aroma of spectacular sensations of multiple orgasmic experiences and a voice reached my ears saying…
“Put it on, put it on now.” She pleaded in a soft husky voice.
I nodded and stood up to partially uncover my whole self brushing away my boxers off to the door. There I stood and draw close to her as I placed her left thigh over my right shoulder breaking her left thigh apart to have it open. I thrust my manhood in thinking to be considerate but hell no! I just want to be me, a sadist. I want it hard long wet and wild and so be it. The semi-missionary position is nothing but pure tradition so I decided to teach her the doggie. Sweat dripping and mixing wither cleaned moistened body but nothing stopped me; this just too interesting and fabulous to ignore. I held her hips which sent her into a crawling position, with her hands firmly gripping our bed’s headboard, hair and head down, seemingly defenseless. I thrust my genitals in and this time, a new sensation came which blew us away to a different dimension. Our sweat came together mixing mine to hers and hers to mine. She laid flat on the bed on a prone position. The strength of it all caused her to weaken her arms to act as a foundation. I continued and did the love making ritual without reservations whatsoever.
A taste of compatibility would show that both of us reached the epitome of our orgasms ringing a bell to my ear f pure contentment and happiness. What a magnificent cardiovascular exercise indeed. Without us knowing, we slept and drifted to rest in just minutes. The last thing I could remember is me embracing her tightly.
The rooster crowed. Its animalistic sound sizzled through my ears, an indication that morning has broken. As I opened my eyes, Farah is not in my bedside anymore. She must have woke up early to do the chores as our time for romance drifted to a memory --- welcome to reality. I put on my clothes and have myself ready for the new day. Bidding goodbye to the master’s bedroom, I arranged the beddings and pillows before opting to go out. I go down the stairs and out towards the terrace to have my morning view. I sit on the rocking chair gently pushing myself on a placid rocking motion.
“Hello honey, I made a coffee for you. In a few minutes, breakfast will be ready.” Farah said.
“Thank you, Farah. That’s so kind of you.” I replied sealing my gratitude with a kiss.
The shitzus are already out doing a morning potty run in our lawn. As my newly recharged eyes gazed on the landscape, there’s a light frost covering the dried grasses. What a beautiful way to start a brand new day. A new life is starting to sprout out --- a clear sign of hope. I was contented and happy that both Farah and I timely planted new trees and plants enclosed in a 10’ by 20’ storage building to keep them up in humid temperatures --- like a greenhouse.
“Farah, farah…” I called.
“Yes honey, what is it?” she replied.
“Just bring the breakfast on the field. We have to work while eating to be efficient. There’s no time.” I said.
Within a few minutes, farah brought breakfast on the field. She served on a tray. I never realized that she would be a spectacular waitress as she was blessed of doing the art of culinary plantings and garnish. We are tending the newly planted trees covered by the roof acting as a canopy for us. It is an early morning picnic that is unexpected. We have bacon and eggs for breakfast so we eat and tend to the plants successful and fast growth. Cold breeze slapped the horizon indicating low temperatures so Farah reached out to turn the propane heaters.
“Do not turn that on.” I said. “We need to conserve what we have because our supplies are going scarce by the day. Better just to use that for cooking food and lights during nigh time.” I suggested.
Farah undoes her position and followed my instruction. I gazed towards the far most entrance to our farm and found out that it is impossible to have a clear and vivid visual if someone or anyone comes intruding in the driveway. There is an existing blind spot that hinders my view if someone is homing in towards our compound. This is the reason why the dogs are roaming around freely and since they are heavy barkers and the big dogs are fierce biters, I think it’s enough for it to serve as an early warning detection system for anyone who will come near.
“Farah.” I called her. “Our shitzus are good and loud barkers. Could you train them to bark just for warning purposes?” I asked a favor.
“Yeah sure honey, that is what I studied for years at vet school.” She said. “However, becoming a vet does not include dog training subjects. Good thing I enrolled at dog training school to compensate and add to my expertise. Dog training? It’s pure skill, but I’ll just give it a shot! Piece of cake!” Farah expounded clearly.
“I just do not want them to be barking for fun anymore. Now isn’t the time for games and cute cuddly stuff. We are definitely in this survival times so we have to use our assets wisely.” I added. “Who knows, some mob of armed nomadic creatures will be slamming in our property in a stampede?” I told Farah while eating a bacon sandwich she made for me.
“Yes, I understand, Ryan. But this will eat time and of course a lot of
doggie treats. Don’t worry, bits of remaining dog food and doggie snacks will be enough to bribe these cute canines. They will surely be trained as attack dogs.” Farah explained further.
Farah’s knowledge in veterinary medicine and dog training is an absolute asset to have in these days of survival. Good thing we have easy to train dogs that has a high tolerance on obedience. I have seen Farah train these dogs but purely on obedience. Upgrading our dogs’ resume into an attack military dog will surely do the trick of adding up protection to our perimeters. Our medical prowesses seemed to be our commonplace and in a world were law and order has been changed to pure savagery, our knowledge will surely play on as an advantage as the game of life and extinction continues.
I left Farah to tend the plants and the pond while I went back to the house to get my scanner. Here I am sitting on a chair with an office table in front of me. This is the very table where I do my paperwork and a whole lot of keyboard pounding computer related back jobs. Finally, I found my special Icom scanner hidden inside one of the drawers, untouched for a long time but hopefully, functional. My scanner, which is capable of keeping up vast radio airwave signals and bandwidth allocations, is dressed like an obsolete transistor radio decorated with some primitive electrical turning buttons. I look for the power button, hoping that the batteries are still good, and yes, when a pressed the power button, it’s started to pick up signals and bandwidth but to no avail. The hissing static sound polluted my ear to annoyance forcing me to turn it off. I subsequently removed the batteries and put it back to the drawer were I found it.
I searched for more salvageable gadgets and indeed, my office table is one hell of a one stop hardware store because it has it all. I found:
My .50 caliber ammo can;
My old Panasonic Toughbook Laptop;
My Kenwood TS-4000 High Frequency Radio;
My tiny but dependable Yasheba PT819ND;
A whole bunch of electrical connectors and chargers and wires; and,
Some dipole antennas.
With the ICOM Scanner and extra batteries, everything will surely be fine. I grabbed my laptop and start it up. The Windows logo showed up with a Windows 8 OS indicated in the BIOS. I run through a series of boots just to see if it’s still good and so far, it is. I shut the laptop down and remove the laptop’s ION batteries then set it aside. My hand stumbled on my old Kindle DX on the right drawer of the table. I picked it up, dusted it off and placed inside the ammo can along with some two sets of radios for safekeeping. Good thing that I have this external hard drive containing files and database that can certainly help us in our survival struggles.
Looking up at my newly found old mechanical friends is truly a breeze. I carefully stared at what I’ve found segregated them according to use.
“This will be my emergency communication set-up!” I roared as if no one was in the house.
Happiness had clearly filled my heart with life upon seeing the usefulness of the provisions before my eyes. Now, it’s just a matter of innovating what I have and transform it into something useful and beneficial. Yes, it’s true that all the communication sources will surely shutdown if solar storms spoil down the earth’s peaceful existence but preparing for an alternative communication gadget, though improvised is a no brainer. I will just make sure that my set up gets immune to CME’s by alternatively resorting to other scientific and innovative sources.
The drawer is closed and safely inside is my emergency communication set up all cleaned, all functional and all ready to go. I took on a fast pace of steps and dashed hurriedly outside the house were the trucks were parks. I was just beside the barn so was a short speedy run. Farah’s eyes meet with mine as I ran towards her wondering the sequence of events --- her face, in a question mark.
“I’m going to remove the fuses I installed in your truck!” I said; and she just smiled.
I then opened the hood of Farah’s Expedition and removed all the fuses I have previously placed way back and then closed the hood of her truck. As I was about to leave, I saw a computer module placed on the front passenger seat. Good thing that I have Farah’s duplicate car keys so I opened the door got the computer module. I sprinted back inside the house, my hands occupied with fuses and the computer module. It took me about fourteen seconds to reach my office table. I opened the drawer then placed the computer module and car fuse inside the metal ammo can with the radios then head ck to Farah’s to finish my interrupted breakfast. I walked towards Farah with a pen and pocket in my butt pocket. There are still a few strips of bacon left so I consumed it to satisfy my appetite.
The green farm meadows are a typical site for people like us who lived a whole life in isolation. Even before the solar flare outbreak, our lives has been accustomed to survival for the sole reason that we are far off from civilization, we don’t go there that much. We somewhat defy man’s social nature. After breakfast is finally over, Farah took care on the utensils and plates and loaded it up altogether. I stayed seated on the bench as I got my pocket notebook and pen and started to take down my own “things to do” list just to keep me updated and focused. Who knows, dementia might be a vital CME aftershock. Jotting down my first priority is easy because it’s all I can think of.
“Things to do”
1) Replace the battery in my Polaris Four-Wheeler.
2) Fill the gas tank of my Excursion
3) …
My Polaris Four- Wheeler is what I call my Hail Mary companion. If I could change its batteries it will serve as an important mode of transportation to town and back and to fill the gas tank of my Excursion. This list could go on and on and although my lists of priorities are subject to change, it is also better to have my baseline as early as now because this is the survival of the fittest. No time to waste, no time to spare --- everything in this time is gold and precious.
Chapter 5
My hand ceased to write my “to do list.” I passed by so many paper tares because I just can’t get my mind to focus in one piece. May be it’s not too good to be organized after all but this is just an outline, a framework were my priorities will be seriously based especially these times are the toughest. As the sun glares bright on a hot humid noon, my mind wanders as to how we are going to get through this wondering if it is still possible that God will spare us with this eminent abomination. Yes, I pray and I pray before and after meals but I am not a devoted religious guy nor believe in the deity of someone like Christ or God. But if these bible stories were true, I hope that this “God” thing will do its magic. Who knows, the sounds those bewildered parables and scenes of immeasurable faith might turn the odds of survival.
I can always remember way back when mother use to bring me to the Catholic Church during Sundays. The pastor is reading an excerpt from the book of Revelations talking about the end of days catapulted Lucifer himself --- the reign of evil. Signs will be exposed in a way of natural disasters, famine, communicable diseases, and stars falling out from the sky and unto the earth --- tales about our destruction. I am always a rational thinker and believes that everything on this earth exists for a reason because everything that exist has its own and unique rational explanation. Why am I thinking of facts that are generated by pure hearsay? and the bible? It’s just a book fabricated by some old heretic who just wants to get famous by manipulating people. End of the world on the basis of an age old hypothetical prophecy? I don’t think so. I can’t even believe that I am wasting my gray matter on these things.
I paused as my memory brings me back to the words of the minister…
“Stars falling out from the sky, stars falling out from the sky, stars falling out from the sky…”
I shake my head to throw that memory away and I got myself up and headed to the tree house installed on our nearby sycamore tree just a few steps at the back of our red barn. I stuffed my pen and pocket notebook in my pocket and on towards the tree house. I climbed up straight bringing an ounce of excitement. It is as if that my childhood came back and when I fi
nally reached the top, I just stayed in our tree house’s balcony to have a bird’s eye view of everything. I jumped a bit just to rest the holds and yes, it is sturdy.
Stars falling out from the sky? Why would a rational man believe in such general statement? I am even clueless why I am beginning to ponder Father Richard’s gospel reading. Would it be possible that the gospel reading excerpt which reads “Stars falling out from the sky” refer to the solar storm indicators? The EMPs and the CMEs? Could this even be true? Is God reconfirming his alleged supremacy over man? “
Huh!” I sighed. Now, let’s see. I reached for my notebook tucked firmly in my left cheek pocket, have the notebook open and took the pen sandwiched in between the pages to continue my supposed documented writing of my priorities. As I harbored down the pages of my notebook, my pen felt stale as my preoccupied mind hobbles to make a firm grip of decision as to who comes first in the rankings, 3rd, 4th, 5th and 6th “to do priorities.” Indeed, making a simple list in the middle of a supposed survival game is a hard culture to maintain. Making this one is definitely as easy as making your own Christmas wish list because it’s absolutely more than childish propensities; it’s my wish list for our right to life under threat. Taking a ten minute recess would be logical as well as effective. I climbed up just a few strides to stay myself resting my butt on a nearby branch. My estimation would tell my instincts that I am at least eighteen feet above ground, the wind fresh and deep, skinny dipping in my senses resonates the sweet sounds of chirping birds and hushing leaves of pure, absolute serenity.
All of a sudden, a thought came to my mind, a sensible yet elegant insight which could match my being a rationalist. Survival like what I and Farah are facing can be logically explained. To keep it simple, I just simply narrowed it down to three, calling it “The Rule of Fours” and that man can:
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