How Does Your Garden Grow?
Chapter 1

Caution: This Science Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Ma/ft, Fa/ft, Ma/Ma, Mult, Consensual, Gay, BiSexual, Heterosexual, Humor, Science Fiction, Post Apocalypse, Cheating, Slut Wife, Incest, Uncle, Niece, BDSM, DomSub, MaleDom, FemaleDom, Rough, Group Sex, Harem, Orgy, Polygamy/Polyamory, Swinging, Interracial, White Male, Hispanic Female, Indian Female, Anal Sex, Analingus, Cream Pie, Exhibitionism, First, Oral Sex, Petting, Pregnancy, Squirting, Voyeurism, Menstrual Play, Public Sex, Nudism, Politics,

Desc: Science Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 1 - David Howard is fed up with his life in the Mafia-controlled state of New Jersey, even if it is the only state with a working government in the post-apocalyptic world that exists since Fireball Day. Between his mob-loving (literally) wife Andrea and his psycho gay ex-friend and boss with benefits, Steven, David is more than ready to call it quits. He just won't get to do it alone.

David Howard was not exactly in the mood for any nonsense that evening, as he came home from work a bit early. Predictably, his boss and former friend, Steven DeLong, had continued to rag on him about ending their bromance, which had become sexual on more than a few occasions, and he had simply clocked out for the day. If Steven wanted to fire him, good riddance! David was seriously thinking leaving Jersey altogether, despite it being the only state with a working government and no ghost towns in the whole USA. The price of continued law and order had been very high: continued subservience to La Cosa Nostra, the Italian Mafia, which had come out of the woodwork stronger than ever in the wake of Doomsday.

That was when David walked in on his wife, Andrea, in flagrante delicto with a man who he didn’t recognize, but who looked suspiciously like a “made” man with the syndicate. Well, that made sense in a way. Andrea wanted to curry favor with people who were connected and influential, and these days, that was the Mafia again. They were back with a vengeance and they ran the Garden State tighter than a drum. Getting on their bad side was an awful idea, which was one of the reasons that David kept his cool with the whole situation.

The other was that Andrea’s affair was just another reason for him to leave the state, and if he left Jersey, he doubted that he would take the missus with him. That being so, why the fuck would he stress out over his wife’s infidelity, especially that he had, until recently, a same-sex friend with benefits who just happened to be his boss? Weren’t they both just using their bodies to get around, or they had been, he supposed, being done with it himself?

Andrea didn’t bother to stop while David took a shower, something that she found rather odd about him, as he hadn’t spoken to her at all. He didn’t jack off or watch the whole thing, so that ruled out one possibility. Whatever else, she knew that the man wasn’t a cuckold or wittol type. He didn’t get off on humiliation it seemed. She didn’t think that he would be a masochist or cuck, but she wondered if perhaps he would be in too much shock to move. Instead, he had been cool as a cucumber and calmly decided to wash himself clean. At least that gave her the chance to finish before he returned, if nothing else. She didn’t know what he would do after that, to be honest, she hoped that he would stay, even if not as a voyeur or wimp.

When David returned, he didn’t return to the bedroom, where his wife had shown a remarkable willingness to even use the marriage bed. She clearly didn’t have any taboos, or so it seemed to him. Instead of facing her just then, David went to the kitchen, grabbed a bottle of bourbon and poured himself a double shot on the rocks. The burn was nice, cleansing, if you will, a chance to purge his head of the anxiety, jealousy, etc. and his throat of the lump inside it as the whiskey went down to his stomach. Whiskey was his drink for precisely that reason. Andrea had always been a mixed drinks kind of girl. David never used chasers, never had highballs or cocktails, never used anything but whiskey on the rocks, so he could feel that purifying burn as it went down his throat, clearing away all the mess inside him.

After he had steadied himself, David went to the bedroom and told his wife, “Okay, Andrea, bring your little guest over to the sofa. We have something to talk about, I imagine. Starting with the issue of marital infidelity, of course.”

By now, David was in more comfortable clothing, in this case a polo shirt, khakis, and sneakers, so he felt more relaxed and less tense that way, too. He was remarkably civil, but his tone also left a hint that he wouldn’t be a pushover. This was still his home, at least for now, the other man was still just a guest, not some landlord or whatever, and he would insist upon some respect. For one thing, he was convinced that this would impress the man a bit more, especially the gangster type like this character. Theirs was a very patriarchal culture, was it not? A man who stood up for himself earned their respect, if nothing else.

“David, I won’t insult you by saying that it’s not what it looks like. It is, in fact, how it appears. But then, this is the kind of rough and tumble world we live in now. Civilization is in shreds and, strange as this may seem, Gianni and men like him are among the few, if unlikely, sets of folks still holding anything together at all. That, with it, carries some ... special benefits, rights, and privileges for the extra dangerous work that they do to keep lawlessness and anarchy at bay. Think of it like droit de seigneur, the rights of a lord that unfortunately have to trump those of a husband here. That’s just how it is.

“I still care about you and I still want us to work it out, if we can. Besides, there are times that I wondered, not about other women, but about you and Steven. Sometimes, the bromance was a bit less ... platonic, from what it felt like to me, so maybe I felt that I was getting some of my own back here,” Andrea told David, right in front of Gianni.

“He’s gay? In that case, I don’t see where this is a true marriage or I did anything wrong at all!” Gianni blurted.

“First of all, Gianni. May I call you Gianni? We’re on a somewhat intimate basis, given that we’ve apparently shared a woman. Okay, I’m not gay, but yes, I had a fucking fling with Steven. It’s over, and I’m probably fired for ending it and telling Steven off, truth be told. Secondly, that’s a new fucking rationale, at least for America, or what’s left of it. I halfway expected some feminist bullshit, but then, that doesn’t fly around here. That’s one of the few positives about the GSA’s rule, I guess. No feminist crap.

“As for keeping me? No way in Hell. This is the last fucking straw. Yes, I cheated on you, mostly due to Steven hitting on me hard when he knew that I was a bit stoned or drunk and my inhibitions were low, plus I was experimenting with my sexuality. It doesn’t excuse what I did, but I guess we’re even now. That’s assuming that you haven’t cheated on me before. Thank God we have no kids together! Seriously!

“But, anyway, here’s the deal. You can keep the house, most of the stuff inside it. Go for an annulment, claim that I’m gay, if it helps. The lack of children would tend to support your case. I’m not gay, but to what’s left of the Catholic Church, which is all cozy with Giannia’s ‘family, ‘ it’s six of one, half a dozen of the other, anyway. To them, gay activities amount to homosexuality, period. They have no fucking nuances or notion of bisexuality, I think. So, get a fucking annulment or if you don’t care about the Church, and bear in mind that when the new Pope is elected, he might change a lot of crap, I don’t know and I don’t care, not being Catholic, file for divorce on grounds of desertion or whatever.

“You can keep most of the non-liquid assets, but I want the most liquid ones. A cash payout of sorts. Buy me out completely, as I’m leaving town ... and the state. You guys won’t be troubled by my like anymore. It’s over. We’re through. Not because you cheated per se. It’s just the final push to get me to leave town. I don’t have anyone new to sleep with, not yet, you see, so I don’t want to be a cuckold, which is what a faithful husband of an unfaithful wife is, plus I probably lost my job, so there you go. Steven was just too crazy for me anymore. I couldn’t take his psycho behavior one more day, so perhaps firing is a good thing in that case. Or quitting or whatever.

“Gianni, are you married? If not, you could always take her to wife and have children with her. Just a thought. I think that she wants kids and has resented me for not wanting them just yet. I had my reasons, but this is one reason that I’m glad that we have no kids. Nothing to tie me down to her, an unfaithful wife. So, anyway, I’m leaving, skipping town for good. You’ll never see me again. Sayonara. Ciao. Proschai! Farewell!” David declared his intentions to move out of the Garden State.

“Ordinarily, I would say, no way in hell, because I don’t marry a slut, but if you’re messing around with men, I don’t care what you call it, bisexuality, homosexuality, whatever, to me, you’re a fag, so that to me doesn’t make her a slut but a wronged wife. So, yes, I can set up an annulment. I can also arrange a much faster payoff to Mr. Queer here, so he can go on his merry, faggoty way and I can keep you for good. Just bear in mind, Andrea, that I’m not the faithful type and never have been.

“Don’t like the double standard? Tough! I’m a made man. We have our own rules and fuck that equality bullshit! If you can handle being faithful to me while I fool around, with women, mind you, then we have the start of a good marriage, assuming that the Church concedes, and in lieu of a Pope, the bishop will grant you an annulment, I guarantee it. Anyway, first things first, I respect that you stood up to me, even if I don’t respect that you’re queer. I never knew that fags had that much backbone, to be honest!

“So, here it goes. Here’s the going rate for a desperate housewife these days, I figure. I’ll give you, how about, seventy grand, to buy you out entirely, for the house, the minivan, the whole domestic package, if you’re cool with it. We won’t ask Andrea if she’s cool with it. She’s all but admitted that she knows that the feminist bitch don’t hunt no more. Like she said, the rights of a lord. But in this case, I see an easy, shortcut solution that doesn’t leave bodies on the floor. I don’t like murder and leaving a widow, if I can avoid it.

“But I will. I will you, faggot, if you don’t take the deal. So, take it or leave it. Seventy k, for one Andrea Howard, plus your house, your minivan, and the whole enchilada. Deal or no deal, bearing in mind that ‘no deal’ is the next to the last choice you’ll ever have, the last one being the style of your coffin. Get it?” Gianni proposed, making Andrea and David both blush in spite of themselves.

“Make it eighty and we have a deal. She is pretty good in bed,” David told him, making his estranged wife blush and giggle a bit, “and since I’m presumably not getting a last roll in the hay with her for the road, that extra ten covers that lack of a good send-off.”

“You seriously trying to haggle? For a wife that you don’t love anymore, if you ever really did, and bearing in mind that rejecting the deal would be ... how shall I put it, very bad for your health? Well, I agree with you that she’s rather hot to trot in the sack, so this is my final, and I do mean, final, non-negotiable offer. No more haggling. I’ll tack on five grand, because I refuse to watch her get it on with even her husband in front of me. Use the extra five grand for a hooker, or two or whatever, if you want. And that’s just because I agree with you that you’re losing a damn good lay,” Gianni was trapped, as he didn’t want his prospective bride to be mad at him for implying that she was only worth seventy after David had asked for eighty on such flattering grounds, “not a penny more. The last five grand were shaved off because she technically committed adultery, at least at the time that you caught her and she didn’t have the sense not to know that you were queer.”

“David, I appreciate you raising my value, but seriously, take the deal before he caps you. I love you still, at least a little, and I really love your brass balls in asking for eighty grand for me, not to mention the flattery of saying that I’m that good in bed, but it is time to fish or cut bait, I think. So, please, take the deal. And thanks, Gianni, for admitting that I’m worth paying out another five grand so that you don’t have to share me, even once. That makes my heart flutter for sure. So, we’re agreed. Gianni is basically practicing simony here, buying the office of husband, if you will. Buying David out. Do we have an ... understanding, a final divorce or annulment settlement?” Andrea seemed eager to get the mess over with, even if part of her was heartbroken that David wanted to leave ... she could understand his motives, at least in part ... he wanted to escape his old life and start anew.

“Deal. I’m not so keen on that extra five grand that I’ll die for it. I’d say that you ... made me an offer that I couldn’t refuse?” David threw in a last joke and blew a kiss to Andrea, not daring to go for one on her actual lips in front of a jealous mobster.

“Alright, then. I’m giving you two all night to work out your ... final severance package, if you will, but no hanky panky. She’s my woman now. No kissing, either, at least not with tongue. A chaste peck on the lips or cheek is all that you’re allowed. And no seeing each other naked. No showers together, no nothing like that. Tomorrow morning, at dawn, you’d best be gone, Mister, because I want to walk into this house and has this pretty lady make me breakfast, and I can’t do it if I have to have my crew clean up your splattered remains. Yeah, if you stick around after dawn, Mister, the deal’s off and you’re dead, and I still get her sexy ass. Get it?” Gianni made it plain that he wasn’t going to completely let David run this show, even if it was, for now, still his house and his wife involved.

“I think that we understand each other, Gianni. Alright, then, it shouldn’t take too long. Just personal possessions, including all of the whiskey. Sorry if you wanted my Johnnie Walker, Gianni, but you probably have plenty of booze in your liquor cabinet and she gets all of the tequila, anyway, and these days, tequila ain’t cheap. You should know that, being with the syndicate. I won’t take anything that I can’t fit into the bed of my Ranger. That’s my share of the marital assets, and while it favors her, I do still get the seventy-five grand, so I’m not hurting, but I want that money in the morning. All of it, upfront, since I’m leaving in a rush. Cash, too. GSB notes, worth more because you have a stable government, unlike the rest of the country this side of Haven. We have a deal?” David asked Gianni.

“Count on it. Not that I have to honor it, practically, as I have the muscle, but I’m a man of honor. I will keep my word. A made man always keeps his word. That’s a point of honor for me. To less would be to disgrace the family, you understand? You’ll get your seventy-five thousand in Garden State Bank notes. I recommend that you spend some of that on weapons, to make it safely out of town and out of state. The world outside Jersey is back in the Dark Ages, man, if they know that you have money, damn, they’ll either rob, cornhole, and then kill you, or else kill, cornhole, and then rob you, not sure which. Though it sounds like you might not mind the cornholing part,” Gianni gave a last parting shot to David Howard, even as he kissed Andrea Howard right in front of her husband, and it wasn’t a chaste peck at all.

“That’s his funny way of saying that I’m his now, so hands-off, I think. What a prick, but I do enjoy him. I don’t love him, but love might come. I still love you, David, and I’m sorry that we couldn’t work out our differences, but that’s the medieval world that we live in now, right? You do what you must to survive in this post-apocalyptic world, I dare say. I get it, though. You must really want to start over if you’ll leave the only stable fragment of civilization east of the Mississippi, mind you. Jersey is a light in the darkness these days, even if the lantern is held with bloody hands.

“One good thing about this world, especially Jersey. No whiny, milquetoast men anymore. My father was a whiny, pussywhipped bitch and I know that Mom only put up with him because few other men would tolerate her constant cheating and nagging and God knows what else. I started smoking mostly to offend both of them, and naturally, I got hooked. I’m glad that she was killed in the Fireball in Manhattan and that Dad finally got a girlfriend that wasn’t quite like her.

“Mind you, she turned out to be mad as a hatter and she murdered him in his sleep six weeks later, as you know, but still, it was a new relationship with someone other than Mom. Funny how he didn’t grieve or mourn Mom at all. I think that he just stayed because he was afraid to leave her. That’s what feminism did to you guys and it also screwed us ladies up, because it turned men into wallflowers. I’m just glad that you’re not a wuss, even if you are a bit queer. You want a cigarette? A last gift from me? It’s not like you smoke enough to get lung cancer, though I probably do and I’ll have to quit while having Gianni’s babies, of course,” Andrea offered her estranged husband a cigarette.

“Sure, why not? One smoke isn’t going to kill me and it will give us something to do together before I pack up and leave you. One last supper, too? Perhaps we can call Sylvia’s and order a pizza? You’re going to be too tired to make breakfast for Gianni if you make me supper and help me pack tonight, after all, though I’ll miss your cooking. Some part of me feels wrong to even ask for it, now that you’ve become his,” David observed.

“You’re right. I’ll miss cooking for you, too, strange as that seems, but it’s true that Gianni would get upset if he learned that I did it, and it would be wrong on at least that level. If you don’t want your partner to know about it, it’s a form of cheating. I did that to you, as you did to me, but we’re even now. I want to start off honest from here on out. No lies. No cheating. So, pizza from Sylvia’s it is. You’ll be missing delivered pizzas where you’re going, as it is, I think. At least with lots of fresh ingredients. Being a mob-affiliated pizzeria, they get all of the fresh toppings at cutthroat prices, too. Mind if I shower while you order, if you’re up to it? You’ve already showered and I still smell like sex. Somehow, that seems wrong to me, under the circumstances,” Andrea agreed with him, still naked no less.

“Plus, you’re still naked and Gianni doesn’t want us to see each other that way,” David reminded her.

“Yeah, that, too. You gonna be okay, not getting laid tonight and all?” Andrea asked him, honestly curious and concerned.

“Look, you don’t have two husbands, so you don’t have to act wifely toward me at all. In this context, it just wouldn’t work at all. Gianni is your man now, for all practical purposes. We can act like roommates or something. Help me pack, that’s all I ask, that and being civil to me. Not rubbing your adultery in my face, just as I didn’t with my infidelity with Steven. I’ll probably be too busy to do more than pack, eat, and take a few cat naps, which I trust that you’ll wake me from in time to leave before dawn. I have no desire to get capped by your fiance, okay? Worse comes to worse, I have Rosie Red Palm and her five daughters, or maybe the pizza guy or girl will be cute. It won’t bother you if I fuck the delivery person, will it?” David asked, catching himself being a little saucy with his estranged wife.

“Well, I won’t claim not to get jealous, but I’ll remind myself that I’m Gianni’s woman now, not yours, so I have no rights to you and your body anymore. If we’re practically divorced, I can’t blame you for getting some ... horny, desperate sex, can I? You can even do it on the marriage bed, since I did, but just one last time, after which I’ll have to change the sheets. He’ll probably want to bring in a new bed, anyway. And close the door behind you, please? That way, I don’t have to see you naked or be reminded what a fine ass you have, plus I don’t have to feel quite so jealous. I’d be more tempted to watch, especially if it’s a guy, but that would be breaking Gianni’s rules and I would probably feel just a tinge of jealousy, if not more, as irrational as that sounds ... then again, when is love reasonable, anyway? What I don’t see won’t make me jealous as much or turn me on too much, you see,” Andrea urged her husband as she headed to the shower to wash Gianni’s cum and the sweat of her tryst with him off her body.

Sure enough, David ordered pizza from Sylvia’s, the usual toppings and deals, etc., and then started packing while he waited for the pizza person to arrive. Andrea joined him soon, getting the stuff that he asked her to box with surprising efficiency, but then she wanted this over with in a hurry. If she was going to lose her husband and marry a mobster, best to rip off the bandage now, not slowly endure the tearing away. At least in her new life, she would be connected, wouldn’t she? She would miss David, but their choices, hers and his, had driven them apart and now they would both have to deal with the consequences, wouldn’t they?

They were done packing the fourth box when the doorbell rang and David answered it, to find that the pizza delivery person was ... Andrea’s niece, Denise Catalan. She was drop-dead gorgeous, if a bit young, and the way that she looked at David was every bit as awkwardly flattering as it ever had been. That was when Andrea made a decision, one that would have real-life consequences. Denise deserved a better life than that of a pizza girl, even if her family didn’t understand yet. Andrea was afraid for her, now that she knew where Denise worked.

The girl was around mobsters, and not all of them were as nice as Gianni Falcone. If Denise ended up being some mobster’s wife and it was the wrong sort, she could be beaten, raped, or worse by her husband. Gianni would never do that, but Andrea couldn’t speak for all of his soldiers and business associates. Sylvia’s son Raymond was a notorious thug who often beat women up, for instance, and what if Denise got hooked up with him? That would be truly horrible, wouldn’t it? No, best if when David skipped town, Denise went with him, and if that meant being lovers, so be it. David deserved a good woman, and since Andrea couldn’t be her, her niece could. Denise deserved a good man and David fit the bill, regardless of fidelity and seuxality issues. Better a cheater than a beater, right?

“David ... I know what you’re thinking, but don’t go with that. Fuck society’s rules in this case. We won’t be married much longer and you’re not blood kindred, so it’s not really incest. You’re just an uncle by marriage. You need a good woman. She needs a good man. Why the hell not? Go for it, but take her with you. Denise, don’t go back to Sylvia’s tonight. Stay home with David, help him pack, make love to him, and leave with him. I’ll explain it all through Gianni. He’ll make Sylvia and your folks understand. They’ve liked you, anyway. Gianni will understand and he’ll make them see the light. If you’re interested, that is,” Andrea encouraged her niece, “Your uncle and I are over, I’m with Gianni Falcone now, so go for it and follow David wherever he goes upon leaving Jersey.”

“But she’s only fourteen! Not even out of middle school!” David protested, even as his bulge grew.

“Honey, in most parts of the world, formal education don’t mean shit anymore, it barely did before the Fireballs thanks to the idiots in charge, and you can teach her better than any teacher that I know. You have taught me all kinds of useful things since we got together. Besides, the GSA lowered all of the ages to thirteen, anyway, you know. Sex. Booze. Tobacco. It’s good for money, after all, if they can sell teen whores, you see.

“Besides, outside of Jersey, ages of consent are meaningless these days. If you make it out of puberty as a virgin, you’re doing good, I think. So, go for it, babe. Just this once, say, ‘Yes, dear.’ You never really said it during our marriage, but I want it to hear from your lips before you leave me for good. How about it? Fuck my niece and take her with you?” Andrea implored David, even batting her pretty brown eyes at him.

The biggest surprise was when Denise flashed him her own eyes and gave him a trembling lower lip, one that she knew from experience worked like a charm on her favorite uncle.

“Yes, pretty please, Uncle David! I’ll be a good woman to you, I swear it! You’ll wonder what you ever did without me. I know about you and Steven and I don’t care about that. I just want you in my bed, have your arms around me. I’ve wanted you that way for at least a year or two. Come on!” Denise begged her uncle to claim her as his woman.

“Yes, dear, this time,” David smiled as he led Denise to the master bedroom, closed the door, and got busy having his way with his teenage niece.

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