Taking What's Left

By Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM

We only had a half of a loaf of bread left. Daddy would have to bake some more for us, we had flour and such to make more bread. But he was out hunting for us, so it wouldn't be today. Maybe not tomorrow either.

But I was hungry, I considered and took the knife, cut a single, rather thin slice of bread from the loaf. It wasn't much and it would let me wait a few more hours for Daddy to come home, and tonight and tomorrow, we could take what was left to go with our meat. We also had three radishes left over from last night's dinner, but more radishes were laid out in our storage cellar, and Daddy didn't even like radishes that much, so I took what was left and munched them with the bread. Radishes alone would have made my tummy rumble a whole new way, but the bread would help stop that.

I'd just finished the impromptu snack when I heard a noise that scares me more than anything else. The sound of someone...or something...stepping on our front steps. Stomp, stomp, stomp-stomp, now they were on the porch.

I snatched up the rifle and aimed it at the doorway. Daddy kept it loaded and made sure I knew how to fire it. If it was anything other than Daddy at the door, my Daddy had told me to shoot, no matter who it was, and shoot to kill. I'd never killed and never hoped to...but there were too many people who'd forgotten everything they knew about not taking what doesn't belong to you (I'm quoting my Daddy here) and if they came in, especially without calling out beforehand, they probably would kill me if I didn't kill them. So I gritted my teeth and waited for the door to open or someone to call out.

"Saunk! Saunk!" came Daddy's call. That's not my name, that's our safety word. It meant that it was Daddy and also Daddy was alone, if he'd called out anything else, I had to still be ready to fire, only try not to hit Daddy while I shot whoever was with him. No matter what else I saw about them. That was Daddy's instruction, too.

But it was Daddy at the door and alone and safe. And when the door opened after I'd unlocked it, I'd already set the rifle aside and was ready to help him.

There was a lot to help him with. He was dragging a huge mass of brown fur behind him. A bear! Daddy had shot a bear!

Only a big guy like my Daddy could have dragged such a big animal all that way. Daddy is over six foot two and he had built up his muscles into something you'd expect to see in an old comic book superhero. A thick thatch of sandy brown hair over a ruggedly handsome face, broad shoulders all lumpy with muscles, a huge chest, slim waist, powerful arms, powerful legs. I dreamed about looking like Daddy when I grew up.

I was overjoyed, as you can imagine. Not only was Daddy home from hunting, but a bear meant a couple days of Daddy staying home, first cutting up the bear, then laying it out to cure. Food for the winter, we had to lay in as much food for the winter as we could. Daddy would hunt some during the winter, but it was hard work and not much game was out then, either.

So I yelped out, "Daddy, Daddy!"

"Help me get this inside." Daddy panted. I was only six years old, but I got over and gamely tried to drag the heavy thing inside.

"You didn't gut it?" I asked him as we struggled with the huge thing. That would have cut the weight down a lot.

Daddy shook his head. "Storm's coming. Looks like big one."

"Oh." I said. Storms were common enough, and October in the mountains could mean that snow was on its way. I hoped not, a bear has a lot of meat, but we needed more before the snows if we could get it. "Let's just gut it and cut a bit for supper, then. See if the storm lays into us, and if it does, you can take your time with the bear."

Daddy looked at me. "That's a good idea, Son. You're getting smart, you know that?"

I giggled and that was what we did, Daddy cutting open the bear and pulling out the guts, and me taking it and putting it into buckets. We would bury it, you don't want wolves learning that your house was a place to scavenge free meat. Or even smell your fresh kill, that was sort of why Daddy had brought the bear all the way inside to finish with the bear.

But after a while, we had the bear gutted and the floor cleaned up, and a bit of the tenderloin roasting over the fire (the most tender part of any larger animal), and I said, looking at the meat roasting and said, "Boy, that's going to taste good."

"I wish it did." Daddy said with that tone in his voice that said he was breaking some bad news. "Fact is, bear meat is kind of greasy and heavy in flavor. Slow baking it would help, but this meat it going to be a bit gamy. That was an older bear, you know."

"Oh." I nodded like I understood, but Daddy was always right about such things. I mean, he'd studied this stuff for years. It was why we were living up here in this cabin, we'd bought it before the comet came and smashed everything. Daddy had been planning to survive global thermonuclear war, but a comet is pretty close to that.

Mom and two sisters were supposed to have been part of this life of ours. But when the comet was seen, we'd all been up here at the cabin, vacationing. Mom had insisted on going back to get things from the house, Daddy had refused. She'd not argued with Daddy, but had slipped out that night with my sisters and leaving us here without her. The comet had come and hit the Earth and, well, that was that. That had been three years ago and I didn't really remember them, I'd only been three back then, after all.

So ever since then, it had been just me and Daddy. We had this cabin, with supplies and such including a lot of food that had been dried and preserved in foil packets, a garden and the forest nearby for hunting in. Just the two of us.

"Daddy." I said out of the clear, into the silence as we sat side by side and watched the meat roasting over the fire. "Tell me about Mom again."

Daddy looked over at me. "You haven't asked about her in some time." He pointed out.

"I know." I said. "Tell me."

Daddy talked while the meat roasted, and when he finished the story, the one about what Mom had done when a neighbor lady had said that little-baby-me looked like a piece of dog meat. I had to laugh, and I think maybe Daddy made up such stories, but it was my only link to Mom and my sisters, those stories.

Meanwhile, the storm had struck, and with it, a bitter cold. Snow began to fall, too soon and too much of it. I said something to Daddy, who just shrugged and said, "Weather's been strange ever since the comet struck. At least it's not raining like it did that first year. Rained for four months straight. Water came all the way up to about a hundred feet from our front door." Since our cabin was high on a mountain top, that was a lot of water.

"So what do we do now?" I asked.

"Wait for it to stop snowing." Daddy shrugged. "Hunt when we can, ration our food and hope we make it through another long, cold winter. At least we got the harvest in before it struck, good, huh?"

"And got all this bear meat." I agreed.

Daddy shivered. "But we don't have much firewood. I'm going to have to get out in that and cut some firewood."

By the time we ate the bear meat (it wasn't that bad tasting, kind of like beef and kind of like pork), it was getting dark and was really cold, even with the fire going. Daddy was right, we would need firewood. Even with my blankets, I was cold. I began to shiver and got up, wrapped my blankets around me and went into Daddy's room. "Daddy?"

"Yes, Son?"

"Can I sleep with you? I'm cold."

"Me, too. Okay, bring your blankets and we'll put them on top of mine."

With all the blankets on us, it was warmer and with Daddy beside me, I felt pretty good, except for my nose. I snuggled against Daddy, pressed my nose against Daddy's bare chest and he gasped, chuckled, and pushed my head away from him. So I dove under the covers.

"You'll suffocate under there." Daddy pointed out.

"Nu-uh." I denied. "I'll be warm."

"All right, then." Daddy said. "Just settle down and go to sleep."

Under the covers, I was warm but not sleepy. I hadn't done much all day long, Daddy doesn't want me leaving the cabin when he's away hunting, says I'm safer inside with the shutters closed and locked from inside. So I was lying up against Daddy and wondering what to do.

Well, I couldn't drag any toys under there. Only one thing to play with.

I should have realized that Daddy would notice. I had my shorts down and was working my fingers on my wiener only a minute when Daddy said, "What are you doing down there?"

"Nothing." I said innocently.

"Don't give me that." Daddy said and paused. "You're playing with yourself, aren't you?"

"Uh-huh." I admitted. "I'm sorry."

"No, that's okay." Daddy said. "It's all right. I just felt the bed shaking and wondered, that was all."

"Yeah." I said. But I didn't start in again.

"Go ahead, Son." Daddy urged me. "It's normal. Everyone does it. Go right ahead if you want to."

"Do you do it?" I asked.

"Sometimes." Daddy confessed. "Now and then."

"Oh."

"So go ahead and play with it if you want to. I don't mind."

"Okay, thanks." I started to reach for my own wiener again, but then hesitated. Daddy had said he did it, too. And he'd said to play with it if I wanted to, he wouldn't mind. I know that's not what he meant, but I took it that he'd said it was all right to play with his wiener!

I had my hand at his crotch. Daddy always wore the same pair of rather worn out briefs to bed and it was easy to reach up inside them and grab hold of him.

"Wha, wha, what?" Daddy gasped out when I got hold of his dong. "What are you doing?"

"Playing with it, like you said." I pointed out cunningly.

"I didn't mean you could play with mine!" Daddy declared. "Play with your own dick!"

"But I want to play with yours!" I said. "Come on, Daddy, it's so nice and big. And it's getting bigger!" I said that last as Daddy's wiener gave a jerk and began to fatten up.

"Oh, God!" Daddy moaned. "Son, you can't play with my cock. It's not right!"

Daddy had spent my entire life talking about right and wrong and surviving, so I was well-armed for answering that. "But that was before the world changed. Now it's changed, we have to make do with what we have, don't we?"

"Yes, Son, but...."

"And right and wrong changes with it, doesn't it? What was right back then may not be what's right now, does it? We have to decide for ourselves whether to stay with things the way they were, or try to change them for the better." I was quoting Daddy here, he'd said all these things to me often, like when we were raiding the small town down in the valley, taking things we found and wanted. I'd pointed out we should ask permission from the people who owned the stuff, and he'd responded with this sort of thing.

"Well, yes, Son." Daddy had put his hand on my wrist by now, but he hadn't yanked my hand away. And his cock was fully stiff now. "That's right."

"So isn't this better than me not doing it?" I concluded as I pulled his briefs down and got his prick so it could move easily.

"I...I guess so."

"Do you want me to stop?" I finished.

Daddy let go of my wrist but didn't answer. So I kept on playing with his weiner. It was so big and fat now, and the skin on the outside of it felt so soft and thick, so much thicker than mine. I could smell my Daddy now, a new odor that was coming from his crotch, kind of a rich, heavy smell, the same way the bear meat had smelled over the fire, only this was a different smell. I liked it, it was making my head feel dizzy.

"Oh, Baby, oh, Baby!" Daddy groaned as I pumped on him. "That feels good, Baby, so good!"

I wriggled in closer and smelled him again, got more of that rich aroma. His cockhead had some sticky stuff on it, and I reached my nose up and smelled at it. My nose bumped his cock and Daddy moaned loudly.

So I nuzzled him again with my nose and that got some of the sticky stuff on my face just above my lips to the right of my nose. I could and did lick at it, and the taste of the sticky stuff was incredible. I'd never tasted anything like it, but I liked it! I moved in and licked more of it directly off of Daddy's cock and that was warmer, thicker, richer.

"Ohh, yeah, lick it, Son, lick my cock!" Daddy murmured. "That feels so good, Son, so good!"

So I kept licking. Daddy was grunting and murmuring how good a son I was, how much he loved me, all while I licked him, so I kept right on licking more and more. It was so warm under the blankets, so warm and dark, there was just me, my Daddy's cock, and the smell that was filling the area under the blankets now.

"Oh, Baby, suck it for me, would you suck it, just a little, Baby, just a little!" Daddy moaned.

"Put it in your mouth and suck on it for me."

I lifted my head up, pushing up the blankets and got my mouth over his cock and when I did, Daddy groaned, I slid down and Daddy's groan went on and on. I got about three or four inches of it inside my mouth and I closed my lips on it and sucked.

"No, Son, you suck it like this, you hold on and move like this." Daddy's hands grabbed my head and he began to lift my head up and down, my mouth was stuffed full of his prong and then he lifted me up and the cockskin was a thick bundle of velvety folds on my lips, then he'd shove me back down and I'd be filled up again.

"Oh, oh, oh, oh!" Daddy moaned. "Like that, Son, can you do that for me?"

I mumbled my yes and began to bob up and down. Daddy was gasping and groaning and his cock was getting hot and leaking a lot of that tasty fluid from it. I was sucking that down as it flowed out and Daddy liked that, as long as I kept on bobbing up and down.

"Oh, oh, Son, I'm going to come, Son, I'm going to come!"

I mumbled a questioning sound.

"Oh, that's, that a lot of hot salty fluid that's going to rush out of my cock all at once!" Daddy panted. "It's not going to hurt you, and you don't have to keep your mouth on it! If you don't want to! Oh, God!"

Hot, salty fluid. That was the stuff I'd been drinking down all this time. More of it, a lot of it! Great!

I sucked on my Daddy even harder, then and Daddy moaned, "Oh, oh, Son, I'm coming, I'm coming, I, oh, oh, OH, OH, OH, OH, OHHH-OHHH-OHHH, OH-OHHHHHHHHH!" And when Daddy said there was going to be a lot of it, he meant it!

Hot sticky juice rushed into my mouth, all thick and gooey and soft, like those grubs Daddy gave me to try one day. Those tasted like walnuts, but this tasted like...it tasted like Daddy, all big and strong and masculine and good!

"Oh, oh, oh, God, Son, that's good, that's so damned good!" Daddy whispered hoarsely. "I haven't had it that good in, God, since three years or more, Baby, so damned good!"

Three years. Since Mom, he meant. "You and Mom used to do this?" I asked as I wiped my mouth dry.

"Yeah. Yeah, we did." Daddy was quiet and I knew he was thinking about Mom.

"Well, that's okay, Daddy." I said quickly. "You have me, now."

"Yes, Son. I have you now." Daddy agreed.

"And like you always say," I reminded him, "to survive, you have to adapt, just take what's left, and go on."

"Yeah, go on." Daddy sighed.

"So can I sleep with you from now on?" I asked. "And then I can do this with you every night, okay?"

"Every night." Daddy breathed. "Sure, we can do that. Take what's left and go on."

"First rule of survival." I reminded him.

"Yeah, first rule of survival. We take what's left and go on."

So I crawled up Daddy to snuggled under his arm and rested my head on his strong, strong arm. He held me with the other and we slept like that, warm under our blankets while the early October snow fell heavily outside, shrouding the world in a deep, pure white blanket of its own.

And I thought to myself as I fell asleep, sometimes when you take what's left, you find out you're left with the best thing of all.

THE END
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