Westward!

Five years ago, three German emigrant families founded the settlement of Seven Pines, 30 km southwest of the small town of Jacksonville. They were given American names and had to swear an oath to their new homeland and Jacksonville. The Meyers couple were still childless, the Smiths were expecting their first child and the Blacksmiths their third. They already had 2 children, the pretty Liz was 17, her brother Jack was a year younger. The small houses had only one room and behind the house the newly planted grain fields stretched for miles, which secured them a modest income. In their old homeland they were unemployed, without rights and without luck. Here they paid 20% tax, and managed the rest quite well.

The Blacksmiths lived in one room like the others. There were only 2 beds, one for the parents and one for Liz and Jack. The pleasant temperatures allowed everyone to sleep naked. Liz and Jack were as quiet as a mouse when their parents were fucking. They held each other in their arms and watched in silence, the parents made no big secret of it. The mother spread her legs wide and willing, her pussy opened like a rose. His cock penetrated between her labia and pounded in her pussy hole for 5 or 10 minutes. She then finished masturbating and let him continue pounding. She smiled when he reached the finale and fucked wildly and fast. She hugged him, smiling blissfully, as he squirted into her pussyhole. After fucking, the mother masturbated unashamedly, she was pregnant again and always had a lot of sexual pressure. The two teenagers remained silent until the mother had her second orgasm and fell asleep. Jack pressed his body against his sister, who secretly rubbed his cock in her fist trapped between their bodies when their parents were asleep. Liz's hand slid slowly up and down their bodies, pulling the foreskin over the glans and back again, completely silently. She smiled and kissed him on the lips when he squirted his semen over their breasts and bellies. Liz masturbated every night when the parents were asleep. She pressed herself against Jack, who held her tightly, and rubbed her clit quickly and forcefully. He felt her finger rubbing against his cock too, which was being rubbed at the same time. It was not uncommon for him to squirt again right in the middle of her orgasm. Jack kissed her neck during her orgasm, which she loved very much. Those were the moments when they felt closest to each other.

The three families were not only grain farmers, they could also do all sorts of other things. Mr. Meyer, who was in a love triangle with a Mr. Horax and alternated between lying on one side and the other of his wife, could brew beer and Horax could distill liquor. So alcohol played an unfortunate role in our little drama. A year ago, the father, Blacksmith, was once again completely drunk and raped his own daughter Liz. Liz screamed when her hymen broke, but he continued to fuck her brutally. The mother and Jack beat the father for 15 minutes and were able to pull him off Liz before he started to squirt all inside. His juice squirted inside Liz' pussyhole and then in a high arc over Liz's body. For a few days, everyone avoided each other; what the father had done was total crap. But they got over it, they didn't talk about it much.

In the past, Liz and Jack would sneak to the other houses, watch the Smiths fucking and Mrs. Meyers, who let Meyers fuck her every evening first and then the big Horax. Nobody knew exactly where this Horax fit into the picture. He was probably a relative of Mrs. Meyers, probably even her brother. In any case, he had the biggest cock of all, the six‐foot man, and could fuck the longest of all, Liz and Jack agreed on that. He was clearly the champion. In any case, it was this Horax who fucked Mrs. Meyers to orgasm, her husband certainly couldn't. Now, after her father had brutally raped Liz, they stopped sneaking around.

But Liz didn't let that get her down. She was made of tough stuff and could take a lot. She would snuggle up to Jack at night and whisper in his ear. "In the first 14 days after my period I can fuck without getting pregnant. Well, what do you think?" Jack nodded, what could he say? He had seen the parents fucking and Liz had always looked after her hymen like a dragon looks after its gold. "Do you want me to fuck you?" he whispered back just as quietly. Liz nodded and pulled him onto her. His cock slid into her pussyhole as if by itself, and he remained motionless. How good it felt! Her pussyhole was very tightly formed and he held her by her ass cheeks. They fucked very slowly, avoiding any noise. She hugged her Jack even tighter as he squirted into her cunthole. So it came to be that they fucked two weeks a month, quietly and without much movement. Liz blossomed, she masturbated while Jack fucked her and the combined menu did her good. They were quiet, quieter than mice, but Liz knew that her mother was secretly watching them. The two women had discussed it briefly, it was pro against con. Liz won.

Horax's liquor ruined their father. He was drunk senselessly almost every evening, he beat the mother or the children for no reason because the pain raged in his chest. Margrave Henry had stolen his life, his fields, his horses and his freedom. He spent six years in prison without being charged. The Margrave was known to throw everyone who contradicted him into prison. This pain was deep, no amount of liquor could numb the pain.

He shouted at his wife, asking who she was pregnant by, Meyer, Horax or Smith? He was senselessly angry, his wife had had to sell her body during his imprisonment. She had fucked hundreds of men and was no longer the shy, chaste maid he had married in love, who had given birth to Liz and Jack. His wife faithfully followed him into his drunken stupor, always one cup behind him. She still loved him like she did on the first day, even though hundreds of men had dishonored her body. She loved him even after he had raped Liz while drunk. She loved him even though he accused her of infidelity and beat her. She alone knew that he was actually beating the Margrave.

But today it was completely different. He hit her and kicked her, she crouched down in the corner and held her arms protectively in front of her belly to protect the baby. Liz was kneeling naked on her bed and screaming like crazy, her father had grabbed a knife and was stabbing her mother. He only injured her arms, then Jack rushed towards him, he grabbed the first thing he could find and hit his father on the head with it. The father collapsed silently in the middle of his rage. Jack threw the shovel away in horror. His father was very quiet, only Liz and the mother were screaming. With bleeding hands she reached for her husband, for her lover. "He's dead, my God, he's dead!" she screamed. Naked Liz fell silent and pressed herself against Jack. They looked at their father, but he was really dead. Liz tore up a sheet and bandaged her mother's arms; thank God, the wounds were only superficial. They sat naked in total silence next to their dead father until dawn.

In the morning Liz went to the Meyers and Smiths and reported. They all came, the three men questioned Jack and the mother, but it was a clear case of self‐defense. They saw the deep cuts in the mother's arms, there was no doubt about that. The men got their shovels and dug a grave 60 meters from the house. They stood around the grave. Smith and his wife were Jews, Meyers could hardly read, so Horax picked up the Bible and read something. It didn't matter what.

The three men discussed the situation. The Jew Smith insisted that they had a duty to fuck the widow. A sacred custom and duty since ages. And so they did. One by one they came to the widow Blacksmith and fucked her thoroughly and hardly, then they went home. The only marriageable man, Horax, didn't want to marry her. She wasn't pretty enough for him, too fat and pregnant too. He preferred to stay with the Meyers and fuck Mrs. Meyers. She was pregnant too, but she was a class better fucker, that much should be said. So the widow Blacksmith remained a widow and was fucked thoroughly hard every night during her pregnancy by one of the three men. The Jew Smith had really drilled that into them, he knew the customs best. Thank God the birth went quickly and without any problems, the two wives and Liz knew more or less what to do. Unfortunately, the little girl, Klara, was not destined for this world; she died on the second day. The widow Blacksmith went mad from all these horrible blows of fate. The little girl was buried next to her father, and a plaque would later be attached to the graves wooden cross.

Liz and Jack did the work in the fields, the mother ran the household. To be honest, she had already left this world in her mind, she was mentally with her husband and little Klara. But she kept the house in good order, cooked for the three of them and went to bed early. The three neighbors had done their duty and stayed with their wives, Mrs. Meyers was expecting her child soon and, to her great joy, Mrs. Smith also became pregnant. For the first few months, the mother masturbated quite unashamedly before falling asleep, she slept long and deeply. Liz and Jack continued to fuck in the same rhythm as before. Jack, who drove to Jacksonville every day after the harvest with a horse‐drawn cart to sell the grain, asked Liz if she wanted to go to the small town with him, perhaps to meet men? But Liz waved him off, she had nothing of the sort in mind. She laughed, the small city had nothing to offer and was desolate, here she had nature, the family and Jack, who warmed her feet in the night. And if she really wanted to have a child, it wouldn't be a problem, would it? She snuggled up to Jack. "You're my husband, Jack, I don't need anyone else!"

At night, after masturbating, her mother dozed a little and was plagued by nightmares. "Come on, fuck me!" she kept calling out. Liz was worried and a little amused. "He's coming, Mom, he's coming soon!" she said soothingly and smoothed her mother's sweaty hair with her hand. She spoke to Jack. Yes, of course, it was inappropriate. At least at home, in the old homeland. But here they were in the new nothingness, here there was no man anywhere near who could lie down with Mom. Liz appealed to him to hear how much Mom was dying for sex! Jack nodded a little unhappily, of course he understood what Liz was saying. His heart belonged to Liz, that was not up for debate. But the mother's moaning only got worse and worse.

Jack lay down next to his mother and hugged her. She calmed down as he stroked her head and face. "I'm here, Mom, I'm here!" he whispered and she smiled happily in her half‐sleep. "Come on, fuck me, my love!" she called softly, enticingly. Jack lay down on top of her and before he could blink an eye, she had reached between her thighs and inserted his stiff cock into her hot, glowing pussyhole. Jack was stunned, but he knew what to do. He pushed aside the moaning sounds from his old homeland; here they were in a new country, in the middle of God's glorious nature. He fucked slowly and carefully, she masturbated and experienced several small orgasms in succession at the high level of arousal, completely different from Liz, who masturbated to a big orgasm and then was completely silent while Jack finished fucking and squirting. He held back the squirt as long as he could. She gasped and smiled in her happiness. But 20 minutes later he could no longer hold back and squirted. He squirted in deep, hard jets in jerks. Liz picked him up from the marital bed and stroked his hair.

Liz said that the mother had not had her period since Klara was born. He wanted to be careful for a long time and only fucked her for 14 days, then not for 14 days. But the mother no longer had nightmares, which was a good thing. Sometimes Jack fucked both women, but not regularly. He looked after the grain with Liz, it grew and fed them well. He returned from town with a fully loaded horse‐drawn cart. They had stored the food well, they didn't let anything go to waste. The seventh winter came, the seventh spring too, and so did the Indians.

Nobody was prepared for this. There were 6 Indians on horses, they had tied the hunted game they had killed to the pack horses. They sat motionless on their small, brightly colored horses in the empty space between the three houses. Smith came out of the house with an old rifle in his hand, Jack and Meyers were unarmed. Horax grabbed Smith's rifle and placed it in the entrance to the house. They greeted the Indians in German and English. The Indians didn't move and stared straight ahead. One, who was more splendidly dressed than the others, shouted a few words loudly and slid off his horse. He took a few steps toward Horax, thinking the giant was the leader. Horax held out both hands and walked toward him. They grabbed each other's arms and the Indian chattered away. When he fell silent, Horax did the only right thing. He gave a short, meaningless speech in German, said their family names and pointed to them. The Indian nodded gracefully at each name and smiled. Of course they smiled back. "Horax?" repeated the Indian and tapped Horax's chest with his index finger. Horax nodded and tapped the Indian on the chest. "Wenne Tatulilah?" and he nodded, "Wenna Tartulila!"

The other 5 Indians had also slipped off their horses and went to the pack horses. They came back with a dozen rabbits and began to skin them and impale the animals on wooden skewers. They communicated with hands and feet, they wanted to make a campfire in the middle of the square and roast and eat the rabbits. Horax took wood from a pile of wood, the Indians made a fire and started roasting. They laid blankets around the campfire, Mrs. Smith, Mrs. Meyers and the widow Blacksmith brought home‐made German bread and fresh fruit. Everyone ate and chatted, they all ate with a good appetite. Horax had already been told on the day he received his license to distill liquor that you were not allowed to sell alcohol to the Indians, otherwise you would be imprisoned for life. "When an Indian is drunk, he knows neither friend nor foe. He will scalp you!" Horax didn't know what scalping meant. "He'll cut your blond hair off your head, you stupid Viking!" the official had told him, drawing his finger across his throat. "Aha!" said Horax, and that made it clear. They drank clear water from the river, no one was going to get drunk today. Horax had whispered that to his drinking buddies beforehand.

They were full, the Indians were sleepy. Horax pointed to the grassy area, you can sleep there! The Indian nodded, but he couldn't take his eyes off the women. He explained to Horax that they wanted to fuck the women and would give them part of the loot. Two deer? Horax saw no way out. Three deer for the three older women. Two deer for Liz, she was still damn young and beautiful, at least compared to the two pregnant women and the widow. The palaver with hands and feet lasted forever, because Horax didn't agree to any other deal. 5 deer and four women, my last word. Both the whites and the redskins followed the negotiations, grinning with excitement. The whites knew that they had to negotiate with the armed Indians. Not sharing their women would mean fighting, and that would be bloody and wrong.

The Indians took 5 deer from the horses and laid them neatly in front of one of the houses. Smiling, they took the women by the hand and led them gently to the grass fields. They spread out colorful blankets and all 6 Indians fucked the 4 women, one after the other, until late into the night. Then they took the women gently by the hand and brought them back to the campfire. It was that simple.

When the small village woke up the next morning, the Indians were gone. Liz smiled as she told Jack how beautifully and tenderly the Indians had fucked her. She was fucked by 4 Indians one after the other, they looked like ragged highwaymen, but they were all real gentlemen. Tender and considerate, strong in the loins and wild in the finale. She said that when she got one day tired of life here, she would live as a whore in an Indian village. They both laughed and hugged each other lovingly.

Children's screams could be heard in the Smiths' house, because the Smiths had given birth to twins and Mrs. Meyers had a magnificent son who had obviously sprung from Horax's loins. Funny children's screaming could also be heard when three years later they buried Mama, the widow Blacksmith, next to her husband and Klara. Before she died, she had only one wish: that Horax would lie with her for one night. Jack and Liz slept by the horses while Horax fucked the good widow thoroughly until early morning. Two days later, it was Horax who read the Bible texts at her grave.

Life went on, Jack and Liz had three wonderful children and Jack remodeled and expanded the house so that there was room for everyone. Neither the Smiths nor the Meyers had anything against Liz and Jack living like a married couple, it was normal and okay for everyone.

The Indians came every year in spring. They knew each other and knew how to have dinner around the campfire and fuck in the grass. They still communicated with their hands and feet, nobody spoke the other's language. It went fine for ten springs. Then the Indians stayed away. Jack learned in Jacksonville that the Indians had been exterminated by the Army and the pitiful remainder of the tribe had been taken to a so‐called reservation. Jack drove home dazed and sad and told the others. But stubborn as they were, they made a campfire in the spring, ate peacefully and spread blankets on the grass so they could fuck the neighbor's wife thoroughly. This was a tribute to the Indians, the peaceful and fuck‐loving visitors.

Seven Pines had existed for 15 years now when the next immigrants arrived. Five years later there were already 40 houses, the merchant from Jacksonville had opened a shop in Seven Pines. Horax became the first mayor and sheriff at the same time, and his job was easy. Ten years later, Jack was elected the first delegate, and once a year he rode proudly to Jacksonville. Liz opened the first school in Seven Pines. The village grew steadily.

Liz bought Jack a top hat, after all he was a delegate.

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