Chapter 48: Helen’s Birthday

The two girls looked like death warmed over due to spending most of the night doing anything but sleeping. It was difficult to even get them moving out of the joined sleeping bag. I roused them but hoped to not stick around. Their bare shoulders and the view of Cheryl’s bare back told me I did not want to be around when they got out of the sleeping bag. Though Helen most likely wouldn’t get out until I left anyway.

Standing over the two, I said, “I will see you at the house shortly. Which is my nice way of saying, “Get your butts up.”

Cheryl yawned, “We’re moving. What time is it?”

“Morning. You know when most people get out of bed,” I told her, being a smartass like she could be at times.

Cheryl must have rubbed off on Helen in more than one way. “It is a shame we are in a sleeping bag.”

I figured she was cruising for a spanking by being a smart ass. “Yes, it is. A bigger shame is that I have no belt. But there are lots of good switches around.” I smirked. Helen had a sly grin on her tired face.

Cheryl rolled her eyes at her sleepmate, though Helen wasn’t looking her way. “I swear, I know what I am getting you for your birthday.”

That got Helen’s attention. “Something good?”

Cheryl stretched, her tits just about coming out of the sleeping bag. “I guess that depends on your definition of good.”

Helen still wasn’t moving like she was getting up. She asked me, “What are you getting me for my birthday?”

I asked in return, “How old are you going to be? Four or five?” I teased.

“You know I’m going to be fifteen. Just like Cheryl!” She huffed her answer.

“Then fifteen swats on your backside and a pinch to grow on,” I replied.

Cheryl, ever the smartass, laughed, saying, “Your definition of a good present.”

“Oh yeah. I bet it is yours, too,” Helen said, not denying Cheryl’s supposition. I saw a hand in the bag go up to Cheryl’s chest, making her jump and squirm.

Cheryl squealed, “Ouch, you little slut. You’re going to pay for that.” Her hand went lower, and the wrestling match within the sleeping bag had begun. There were lots of “Ouches” and “Oh, you slut” and groans of excitement, as the wrestling was still in the first round.

I was not staying for the second round. It would likely lead to some rough sex as they got their partner off. “As I said, I will see you back at the house.” I turned and headed down what was now our trail.

I was in the dugout shed with the outer doors open. The inner metal door stayed double bolted with a lone drawbar on the backside, and pressurized tubing in the doorjamb made it so that only blowing the door up would let an unauthorized person in. And the extra internal incineration system would destroy anything in the back room if the door were blown. It all guaranteed my property couldn’t be used against me in the rare case of ending up in front of a court or a governmental oversight hearing.,

On the bench in front of me was an iron pan and a bucket of old lead wheel weights, when the girls got to the front stairs. It gave me an idea of another job besides chopping and stacking wood that the girls could do. I called out to the girls, who were in clothes for a change, though the clothes were very scant. “Hey, you two, come over here, please.”

They tottered over, “Yer, sir, what’s up?”

“You were looking for something you two could do for me to earn a little extra money, Correct?” I asked.

Both nodded, “Yes, sir.”

“Well, I am sure you are tired of cutting and stacking firewood. And would like something other than that to do,” I stated. I, too, was tired of cutting, splitting, and stacking wood for the winter, though we still needed a lot more.

Helen was the first to say, “Definitely. Last time I was sore all over.”

“OK. Would you be interested in turning these?” I pointed to the bucket of tire balancing weights. “Into those.” I pointed to four bullets I had yet to press on a shell casing.

“Sure, that sounds easy enough,” Helen said, again quickly.

Cheryl was more dubious of my offer of employment. “Be careful, Helen. I have seen how meticulous he is about putting the bullets and shells together. I would bet this is not an easy job.”

I laughed. She was right, it was not an overly easy job. It required lots of mental work, not so much physical labor. “Helen, Cheryl is somewhat right. There are lots of steps where you have to pay attention to details. Plus, I log everything in this book here.” I picked up the composition notebook I used as a logbook. “But after I show you, I will pay you five cents per finished bullet.”

Cheryl countered, “How about ten cents?”

I appreciated her trying to get a better deal. But said, “I can buy them out of the catalog for three cents each.” I held out a magazine with the advertisement.

Helen, seeing the deal go sideways, said, “No, I’ll take five cents.”

I was glad she agreed. I didn’t like buying from vendors. They kept records, and no one needed to know how many bullets I went through. Plus, I could fine-tune the weights for what the finished shell would be used for. “Deal,” I said, holding out my hand to shake on the deal.

Helen looked at me dubiously but took my hand and shook it. “Deal.”

“OK, you probably want to be in more than that,” I waved up and down her body. “Go in and change, and when you get back out, I will show you what you have to do.” I then asked, “Cheryl, are you going to help?” It wasn’t really a question, but was asked in a way to say she would help.

“When you ask it, in that way, I guess I will,” She replied. As the two walked into the house, I heard Cheryl say to Helen, “You are going to owe me big time. We are talking hours of making me cum.”

Helen didn’t put up any objections, “I know.”

Cheryl ended the conversation with, “Good.”

They both came out in jeans and tops that were far from the painted-on ones they had gone in the house wearing. When they came into the shed, I handed Helen one of the leather aprons from a hook and took the one on myself, handing it to Cheryl. “We don’t want you getting burned.” I held out the composition notebook and pencil to Cheryl. “You get to be the recorder.”

She looked at the notebook and pencil. “You know, if we had a computer, you could keep this information on SuperCalc. I read that it is the wave of the future.”

“Pencil and paper work for now. Someday, I will look into doing it on a computer. By then, I’ll have a flying car and a robot will clean the house.” I said. I kept my word and haven’t put the information on a computer that could be hacked or deleted. Plus, paper burns and is non-recoverable.

Before we got started, Helen asked, “Why do some bullet heads look different than others?”

I explained to her, “No, not all bullets are equal. They have a variety of uses, from self-defense to hunting. Their shape is based on their intended use.”

I explained they were going to make long-range target shells. Calling them sniper shells would have caused more questions than needed. I talked to them about weighing out the balancing weights and the beeswax they would use. How to melt the weights and what temperature to heat the dross to. About recording the weights and temperatures. I showed them how to put the beeswax on the dross in such a way that it didn’t flash off too quickly as it caught on fire. I had them strain the dross of any impurities and put them in a separate container to be weighed, to know the exact amount of the dross that would be ladled out and put into ingots. Then I showed how ingots were air-cooled, but not before a batch number was stamped into the top. I showed them how to polish one corner of the ingot and how to do a Rockwell hardness test on it. All this information was then put in the ledger. I asked them to get the whole bucket of weights turned into ingots that day, and we would do the next step the next day.

I watched them do one batch and gave them suggestions to make things go smoother. When they had done everything right, I left. I looked in on the two from a distance using the range finder I had for distance shooting. They had sweat coming off their brows and running down their necks. I made lunch while they worked in the shed.

Sitting at the table for lunch, the two complained. It started with Cheryl, “It is hot out there, and the burner running is making it unbearable.”

Helen complained in a way to make us laugh, “I swear, I sweated my balls off. Honestly, if I dropped my pants right now, there’d be no balls there.”

Laughing, Cheryl said, “I say we take her up on it.”

“It is hard enough to get you two into clothes that don’t scream hootchie mama. So I think we’ll keep the ones that don’t on her.” I said. They continued to laugh, sitting behind ham sandwiches.

They went back to work with big cups of water, which they refilled multiple times. When they had finished, they came in and, not being prohibited, they showered together before heading to Cheryl’s room for a nap. Based on the sounds Cheryl was making, Helen had begun paying her the promised hours of making Cheryl cum. After Cheryl squealed, “God, yes.” They were quiet shortly after, taking a nap, recovering from the day of work, and the previous night’s sexual romp.

That night, Helen continued paying off the debt that Cheryl said she was owed. In the morning, I ran with them. I let them stay in front of me as we ran along the trails that the local wildlife made. I enjoyed watching their heart-shaped butt shake and jiggle as they passed in and out of the shadows the trees made. I asked Cheryl about three miles in, “Do you want to do that double or nothing of our bet?”

She huffed and answered with labored breathing, “When I am down to the last night, we will do double or nothing of the original bet.”

Watching Helen’s ass cheeks going up and down, I

said,” So you would lose one night but gain thirty. And you think I will take that bet.”

Still breathing hard, bouncing off rocks, and pushing branches out of the way as she jogged in front of Helen, who was watching Cheryl’s ass the same way I was watching hers. Cheryl huffed, “Of course you will. Because until then, I get to say I can outrun you.”

“Fine, I will ask again when you are down to one night,” I said, planning on beating her handily when we finally redid the bet.

Once back from our morning run, they showered, again together, and got back into jeans and light shirts. Back out in the shed, I told them how many of each ingot should go into each batch of bullets. I showed them how to keep the mold hot as they melted the ingots. I had brought a bucket of ice water to quench and harden the bullets. I showed them what would happen if the mold was too hot or too cold. Those bullets were put aside for remelting at another time.

When they had made and documented more than two thousand bullets, they were done. It would be enough to keep us in shells for over two weeks. They again were tired from a night of debauchery and work in the hot shed. Naps, a quiet dinner, and some TV were all we did. Though Helen had to go home after a while. I drove Helen home, where, due to Frank being there, Dorothy didn’t accost me. But she promised to bring Helen back the next morning.

I was surprised Cheryl was in her own bed sleeping when I got back. I was even more surprised when, in the morning, I was still alone in my bed. I was not as surprised when Cheryl was not out of bed when the driveway alarm let me know Helen would arrive shortly. She went directly to Cheryl’s room, not even knocking on the front door. Frank, who had brought her over, was not as forward. He stood at the door and said, “Knock Knock.”

A male voice was not what I was expecting. “Hey, come on in.” Seeing it was Frank, I said, “Good to see you. Would you care for a cup of coffee?”

I thought he was going to jump up and down, clapping like a little girl, “I would love one. Dorothy has removed all coffee-related items. I am amazed she has kept the coffee cups.”

“Wow, that is pretty extreme,” I said. I got a cup out of the cabinet and poured the man a full cup.

He looked ecstatic as he took his first sip, “Oh, that is so good. I think this is my first cup in over a week. And that one I had to sneak.”

I didn’t know why the man I rarely talked to, outside of church, was confiding in me. I thought I would get a little corroboration of Helen’s story. “So this is something new? Is your wife on some kind of new diet?”

“Not that I know of. And not that she needs to lose any weight. No, I think she has lost her marbles,” Frank said, taking another drink of the coffee.

“Really ... How? She is not a danger to anyone, is she?” I asked, playing it up. I knew the only one she was a danger to was herself, and even then, only if she didn’t get her new, overly active sexual needs fulfilled. Though the incident with Jane was way out there.

“I don’t think so. But her Dad was a bit nuts. And her brother is a preacher, which kind of speaks for itself. I mean, she was pretty demanding about my giving up coffee at home when she was pregnant with Jane and Helen, if I recall correctly. But I had coffee at work. But now she swears she can smell it on me,” He said in the way of an explanation.

“Could she be pregnant again? She is what ... thirty-six? That is not too old to have another baby, is it?” I asked, wondering if the weekend had done more than rewire her brain toward sex. Or if what I thought was rewiring was just a hormone-induced change. I had heard some women, like Pea, got extra horny when pregnant.

“I guess she could be.” He looked in both directions, making sure we were alone. “She has been more demanding of me in the bedroom. And has been since she got back from visiting her friend. I think her friend told her about all the sex she was having. And it made Dorothy jealous, and she had been taking it out on me.” He seemed embarrassed having blurted out his sex habits with his wife. But as he looked at the coffee cup, he seemed less burdened.

“Hey, throw me in that briar patch,” I thought about telling him. Dorothy was a beautiful woman who deserved to have her desires fulfilled more often. But it was not my place, and would have raised questions.

“Oh come on, you are single, and while you are up here in the middle of nowhere, I have seen the women flirt with you. Hell, I thought Jane was going to jump you before she up and left, and I have seen a little of that in Helen lately,” He said, not quite accusatory but letting me know he paid attention to his daughter.

I did my best to keep a straight face and lied from the heart,” You have. I haven’t noticed. She and Cheryl are always off doing their thing.”