Starting Over: Nerites
Copyright© 2025 by Quantum Mechanic
Chapter 4: Settling In
Science Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 4: Settling In - Cheyenne is a plains world dedicated to production of livestock for sale to other human-occupied planets. Jean has a great job there, but he's offered a better job on a watery planet, and an opportunity to develop his own homestead. In order to take the new job, he has to uproot and transplant his young family. It's not easy going, and once there, the troubles have just begun.
Caution: This Science Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Romantic Heterosexual Fiction Science Fiction Cheating Massage Oral Sex Pregnancy Slow
Beth was not a great fan of clotheslines, but the houseboat hadn’t come with a dryer, and for the moment, that particular appliance could not be considered a necessity. When the rainy season came, however, that would have to change. It did come with a clothes washer though, so she wasn’t reduced to pounding the laundry with stones, as people did in some of the older videos she had seen.
She was hanging the wash out to dry when she heard the sound of the approaching airboat. For a moment she was concerned. Jean had left on his commute to work only an hour or so before, and wasn’t due back for another eight or so hours. He had returned to regular duty, and soon he would be deployed to a field station for a two-week stint. He shouldn’t be returning home this quickly.
She left the clothesbasket and hurried back to the dock, where she paused to peer through the morning mist, in the direction of the sound. As the craft came closer the sound grew louder, and she began to see a blurry shape forming in the fog. As it became visible, she relaxed. It was just Hardy.
She hadn’t seen Hardy since the delivery of the houseboat. He’d probably been too busy with his own affairs, for a while, to socialize with the newcomers. I wonder what brings him back now. she thought idly, as she waved at her unexpected visitor.
“Ahoy there,” Hardy shouted, killing the engine. “Got a cup of coffee for a neighbor?”
“Sure do!” she yelled back. “Come on in!”
Hardy drifted closer and tossed her the line. When she had secured the line, he pulled the airboat in by hand and jumped from deck to dock, losing his balance on landing, and almost knocking her over. Laughing, they caught each other by the shoulders, and despite the fact that the floating dock was rocking crazily, both managed to keep their footing. They were enjoyed the slapstick nature of the situation until the rocking died down, then simultaneously each realized that they were maintaining their hold on the other much longer than was necessary. They hurriedly let go and separated.
“What brings you out here today?” she asked as she waved him into the houseboat.
“Just thought I’d see if you folks needed any help, but it looks like you have it all under control. Maybe Jean would like to bum around a little?”
“Yeah, your timing is just about perfect,” she observed dourly, pouring them each a cup of coffee. “We, mostly Jean, got everything pretty much finished about three days ago, just in time to allow him to return to work. So no, there’s nothing critical to do now, just a few loose ends. And no, Jean can’t play, ‘cause he’s at work now.”
“Well maybe I can help tie up some of those loose ends,” Hardy observed. “What’ve you got left to do?”
She narrowed her eyes over her coffee cup. “The most important thing at the moment is getting Nessa registered for the next school term, and finding out how to get her to classes.”
“You got your comm unit set up?”
“Yes, it’s over there,” she responded, pointing to the forward end of the salon.
“May I?”
“Of course!” she replied.
Hardy moved to the seat next to the comm unit and keyed in a familiar number. The number belonged to one of his regular customers, a rice farmer named Walt Mathews, who just happened to also be superintendent of the local primary school. Hardy felt that if anyone knew where to start the registration process, he would.
Walt’s wife, Edna, answered, and informed him that Walt was away and wouldn’t be returning until late that night. “Is there something I can help with?” she asked.
Hardy described Beth’s problem to her, and asked if she knew how they should proceed.
“Let me talk to her,” she demanded, so he yielded control of the comm unit to Beth.
The two women got along well, and as it turned out Beth didn’t even need to leave home to accomplish her purpose. It could all be done over the comm. Beth became aware of the effectiveness of the local grapevine when Edna asked whether Riva would be attending the pre-K classes. Beth was surprised and overjoyed that the local schools operated such a program. She had grimly resigned herself to the prospect of trying to instruct her youngest child herself. Edna gave her instructions for registering the children, which she followed to the letter, and in less than thirty minutes the girls was not only registered for the upcoming school term, but were also on the roster for the school shuttle boat. Beth had only to deliver them to a pickup point, at a channel marker not too far from their home.
As she disconnected, Hardy noticed her frown. “What’s wrong?” he asked. “Didn’t you accomplish what you needed to do?”
“Yes,” she replied, “in so far as it goes. It does however point out to me that we are going to need another boat, if only to get the kids to the shuttle. I hadn’t foreseen that, at all.”
“Well, you’ve got a little while to resolve that, and maybe I can extend your options, somewhat.”
“What do you mean?” she asked in surprise.
“Well, if you don’t have the transportation you need, I could just show up every morning, and ferry you around for a while. At least until you got your own boat.”
“Hardy, that’s going way above and beyond. I couldn’t ask you to do that. Besides, Jean’s self-image wouldn’t be able to handle so much charity.”
“You’re not asking. I’m volunteering. And it’s not charity. It’s neighbors helping neighbors. That’s what being and having neighbors is about in these parts. Let’s do this, and you just let me handle Jean.”
She nodded agreement, but her eyes were still clouded with doubt.
He went on. “When Jean comes home, have him give me a call.” He took over the comm unit and keyed in his private code, then stored it. “I wanted to invite him over for some man talk anyway...”
Again she nodded, although she was a little miffed at the exclusion implied by “man talk”. Nonetheless, with a merry twinkle in her eyes, she thoughtlessly sashayed over and hugged him. With her hand still clasped behind his neck, she smiled up at him, and asked, “Well Mister Neighborly, are you this sweet to all your neighbors?”
Hardy nearly lost it then. Her flirtation touched off a firestorm of reactions in his body, and he knew that he had to get out fast, before he did anything stupid. He set the cup down, grabbed her wrists, pulled her hands apart and gently pushed her away.
“I’ve got to go now,” he told her. “Some important business to deal with. Be sure Jean calls me tonight, OK? Thanks for the coffee.” He was out the door and on the dock in a flash. He loosed the dock line and jumped into his airboat, and in seconds, without a backward glance, he was underway at full throttle.
Watching him speed away, Beth realized that once again her flirtation was more than he could handle, and that by making him uncomfortable, she had driven him away. She was also far more disappointed over his leaving than she felt she should be. The fluttering in her abdomen was back.
What the hell am I doing? she asked herself
Getting no answer, and after a few minutes of reflection, her sense of humor resurfaced and she collapsed in a heap of giggles.
When her husband arrived at home, just before dark that evening, and Beth gave him a sanitized version of her morning adventures with Hardy. Jean almost died laughing and Beth succumbed to another fit of giggles. When the two had recovered themselves somewhat, Jean frowned, and wondered aloud, “Why do you suppose he showed up here today? It’s a workday, and anyone with a job would have already been long overdue at their duty station.”
“It probably never occurred to him,” Beth replied. “He sets his own schedule, and has done so for many years. Excepting us, and a few retail operators, everyone living in this area is involved in agriculture or aquaculture. Their homes are their jobs. That’s where you would look for them first, no matter what the time of day.”
“I guess so,” he agreed, dismissing the issue.
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