Lucky Jim 2-Student, Farmer, Volunteer, Pickup Truck Diplomat - Cover

Lucky Jim 2-Student, Farmer, Volunteer, Pickup Truck Diplomat

Copyright© 2014 by FantasyLover

Chapter 5

Action/Adventure Sex Story: Chapter 5 - Despite the insistence of his family that he is the next incarnation of Lucky Jim, Jim Reynolds, sixth great-grandson of his namesake, isn't sure and isn't sure he wants to be. This is a stand-alone story. However, numerous references will make more sense after reading the original "Lucky Jim." This story also adds bits of new information about the original Lucky Jim.

Caution: This Action/Adventure Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Ma/ft   Fa/Fa   ft/ft   Fa/ft   Mult   Consensual   Fiction   Farming   Rags To Riches   Incest   Harem  

Janie was gone in the morning, and I got up and performed my morning ablutions. This was the first time that I’d slept past dawn in a long time. Surprisingly, Mom didn’t start questioning me as soon as I entered the kitchen.

I was halfway through breakfast and getting ready to stuff a forkful of eggs into my mouth when she said, “A girl called for you this morning.”

I finished the bite, took a drink of orange juice, and replied, “You’ll need to be much more specific than that. It could be any of a couple dozen girls.” My first thought was Cammie.

“She said her name was Holly. You’ve mentioned her several times when you called home,” Mom replied. She was having way too much fun with this.

“Yes, Holly was my bodyguard for a couple of days right before college started. She works for the Raleigh PD and looks young enough that they had her act like my girlfriend until they found and arrested the drug dealers. She did a good job and got her detective shield.”

“That doesn’t explain why she said to tell you that she and Glenda would keep your bed warm until you got back,” she said, almost managing to say it and keep a straight face. Worried about how Janie would take that information, I looked at her. Surprisingly, she appeared happy.

“Anyway,” Mom continued, “I suggested that they were welcome here. They said they’d be here for dinner tonight and could stay until Friday evening.”

I knew Mom worried about my apparent lack of girlfriends since Bitsy had dumped me. If this made her happy, fine. I was surprised that Holly would tell my mother about her and Glenda, though. “I’ll call and order a bigger bed when the stores open. That little one is decidedly uncomfortable even for two people.” I swear that Janie glowed when I said that.

At 7:00, I called the Marshals office to see what time Dwight would be in. “He just came in,” the person answering the phone replied. “Give him a minute to get a cup of coffee, and I’ll transfer you. By the way, good job yesterday.”

The phone was on hold for a few seconds before Dwight answered. “Hey, good job yesterday. You got both the Marshals Service and the FBI major kudos. What can I do for you?”

“Two things; first, is there anyone up here I can talk to about yesterday? It hit me pretty hard, and I want to be able to watch kids playing and being happy without thinking about what I saw in that room yesterday.”

“I’ll find someone and have them call you today,” he promised.

“The second thing is that I’d like someone to check on Mrs. Tucker. She appears to be a single mom. If so, is she doing okay financially? If not, I want to help them anonymously. I don’t want to know how much she makes or anything like that, just if they could use a hand.”

“I’ll have someone check,” Dwight promised sympathetically. “Did this sour you on the service?” he asked nervously.

“No, if anything, it made me more determined to do what I can to help. I just want help getting that picture out of my head,” I replied. He promised to let me know and hung up. I sat where I was, letting the tears flow freely.

“Are you okay?” Mom asked before hugging me from behind. I nodded since my throat was too constricted to let me talk.

“I’m sorry I pestered you last night. I was proud of what you did and didn’t think about what you may have seen and how you’d react to it.”

“You should have seen the two older girls,” I started laughing, even as the tears continued to flow. “One kicked him in the head a couple of times and the other tried to kick a field goal with his nuts.” I continued laughing. I continued crying, too.

“The head FBI agent had to talk me out of beating the guy until he was dead,” I told her later. “He said I could help too many people to ruin everything that way. It was absolutely hilarious when the girls kicked him.”

I told her about the girls’ refusal to leave unless I went with them, and even about Cammie’s proclamation that she would be one of my wives.

“One of them?” Mom asked, her amusement obvious.

“Not ... a ... word,” I growled at her. “I told them about being related to Lucky Jim during the flight to the hospital to take their mind off everything else.”

She started to ask something, but my glare stopped her.

Next, I found the yellow pages that Mom always keeps next to the phone in the kitchen. She refuses to look things up on her cell phone or the Internet. If it isn’t in the Yellow Pages, it doesn’t exist. I called the furniture store I knew my parents used and asked how much their top-of-the-line king-size bed ran, and how much it cost for delivery and setup.

“If you can deliver it and set it up by 4:00, I’ll take it. I’ll even pay extra if necessary,” I told the woman on the phone. Before I hung up, I had paid for it with my credit card and she assured me that they would deliver and set up the bed well before 4:00.

Not much later, I got a phone call from the office of the shrink Dwight had arranged for me. He had an opening at 1:00 and I took it. Evidently, Mom had told Janie about my reaction to yesterday and Janie volunteered to drive me.

I felt better after talking to the shrink and was cried out for now. He made an appointment for me for the following week with a shrink in Raleigh. I signed forms so he could share the file with the other shrink and could talk to Dwight about it. Even though I felt better about it, I was emotionally wrung out. I crashed for a nap when we got home, but not before the furniture company finished setting up the new bed. I gave each of the two deliverymen twenty dollars as a tip and thanked them for the prompt service.

When I awakened, I was sandwiched between Holly and Glenda. “Now this is the way to wake up,” I teased, having already seen that my bedroom door was still open, and my mom was standing in said doorway. I pulled both girls to me and kissed them. “Now I feel better,” I sighed. It was true, holding them did make me feel better.

“Rough day yesterday?” Holly asked. I explained what I had seen when I walked into the hidden bedroom. The shrink was right; talking about it was the best medicine. I got through the whole story without wanting to hurl, and without any tears.

“No wonder you didn’t want to be interviewed,” Glenda sympathized.

“No, that was because I didn’t want my face splashed across every newspaper and TV screen in the country. I still enjoy a bit of anonymity, even though a growing number of students at school know I’m a cop,” I explained.

“We didn’t help any by busting that guy for selling drugs at one of the favorite watering holes for the students,” Holly said apologetically.

“I don’t care about that, or if they know I work with the Marshals Service. I just don’t like a lot of public acclaim. I help the Marshals Service to make my part of the country a bit safer, not because I want people to know what I did.

“To focus everyone on what I did yesterday would take credit away from everyone else who helped. There were pilots, supervisors, CSI teams, drivers, other agents, Marshals, and medical people helping. I couldn’t have done it without everyone’s help.

“I did my part by leading them to the guy and helping to capture him. Someone else tracked down that he owned the property and got the warrant for us. The pilots flew us within two miles so we didn’t have to hike so far. Hell, I’d still be driving there if Dwight hadn’t chartered that plane and the pilot hadn’t flown me there.”

“What’s this about one of the girls proposing to you?” Holly snickered. She was still laughing when I finished telling the story.

We went downstairs for dinner. Evidently, everyone had already met Holly and Glenda. “You dog,” my brother Sam whispered as he bumped my shoulder with his and nodded towards the girls.

“Girls love a cuddly Teddy Bear,” I whispered back, making him laugh.

I was still surprised when Mom let the girls sleep with me, even though she had let me get the big bed. We made use of the bed, but did it quietly.

Imagine my surprise when I woke up to three naked women in my bed. Somehow, Janie had insinuated herself between Holly and me. Getting up at my usual pre-dawn time, I noticed Holly and Janie cuddled together when I came back from the bathroom. Glenda was snuggled against Janie’s backside. I covered them carefully so I didn’t wake them up, and then went downstairs.

I was amazed at how therapeutic it was to help with farm chores again. Having not been home for eleven months, I hadn’t realized that I missed it so much. When I finished mucking out the stalls, I went back inside and took my shower. Mom gave me an odd look on my way back inside.

I was sitting at the kitchen table when Dad came in and asked who mucked out the stalls already. Mom just pointed at me. Holly and Glenda came downstairs just after 6:00. They came over to give me a kiss. I seated them next to me, getting both girls their mandatory first cup of coffee.

Dwight called this morning with the information about Mrs. Tucker. She worked as a waitress and lived with her parents. Her twenty-five-year-old car was ready to die. “Did yesterday help any?” he asked, wondering about my appointment with the shrink.

“It did, and telling Holly and Glenda about it helped more. What really helped was getting my hands dirty this morning doing farm chores. It’s amazing how doing those simple chores help put everything into perspective.”

When we finished the call, I pulled Ralph’s card from my wallet and called him. He was surprised by my offer and agreed to set up an account with the bank there to accept donations. He’d call me when he had the account information and I’d deposit $10,000 into it. He also agreed to work out a deal with a local Honda dealer to buy her a new CRV to use for driving the girls around. It would get at least twice the mileage that her current car did. He’d call me from the dealer, and I’d give them the necessary info to pay for the car, as well as insurance, registration, and taxes.

“You’re going to be broke if you try to help everyone like this,” he warned.

“This is the first family I’ve tried to help, and I have more than enough to help them,” I assured him.

Mom overheard me and looked at me appraisingly. “Where did you get that kind of money?” she asked.

“The Raleigh PD gave me the drug money because they couldn’t prove it was ill-gotten gains. The guy put it in my car, and they accepted that to mean that he gave me the money,” I explained.

“Should I ask how much they gave you?” she asked.

“Plan on leaving me out of your will,” I replied. “Split my part between Janie and my brothers. I’ll be able to buy a farm this size and still have money in the bank.” Her jaw dropped.

“Okay, I feel better now about the money you spent buying the new bed and having it delivered. I was worried that it might have eaten up most of your savings,” she explained.

Ralph called three times that day. The first two were to open the bank account and to pay for the car. The third time he assured me that the dealership had delivered the car to Mrs. Tucker. That way, she wouldn’t know it was associated with any federal agency.


I kept my trip home at Christmas short and sweet since I didn’t have Holly and Glenda with me to insulate me from Janie. Then, I got a panicked phone call from Dwight on New Year’s Day. The son of a prominent Senator had gone on a ski trip with his scout troop and they had been caught in a blizzard. They were now two days overdue and nobody could find them.

I drove to three different locations that were each fifty miles apart and gave Dwight the vectors from each location. He called back two hours later saying that they found all eight boys and the leader. They were cold and hungry, but were otherwise okay. Dwight thanked me and said that Senator Ludmill sent his personal thanks to whoever helped find his son, even though the FBI got the credit for finding him. That was fine with me, and Dwight didn’t seem concerned about it. The FBI knew what happened.


In February, I was talking to my advisor about next year’s schedule. When I mentioned the course last summer that the Marshals are required to take, I was surprised to learn that I could get nine credits towards my required government classes. Between those extra credits and the credits I had received from my AP classes in high school, my final planned semester would be unnecessary.

That meant I’d graduate a week before Christmas of my last year, which opened up all kinds of new possibilities. If I graduated in late May like I had originally planned, there wouldn’t be time for me to buy a place and get a crop planted the first year. This way, I could buy the place in December and have three months to get used to the place. I could hire help and fix the place up before planting season.

To speed up my graduation even more, I signed up for two classes in each of the two summer sessions. That would give me between twelve and sixteen additional credits towards graduation. That would put me right back at a May graduation, albeit a year earlier. The more I thought about it, the more I liked that idea. The fact that it limited the time I’d have to spend at home over the summer, worrying about Janie’s behavior, was only a minor consideration. Really.

Of course, it also meant there wouldn’t be time for me to buy a place, fix it up, and get a crop planted the first year. Instead, it meant that I’d have time to fix the place up correctly before having to worry about planting a crop.


When school got out in early May, I spent one night with Holly and Glenda. Their work schedules kept them from joining me on this trip home and I had to fend for myself at home for a week and a half.

This time, the intervention of Mr. Murphy (of Murphy’s Law) was welcomed. After three days at home, I got a call. Four federal prisoners had escaped from an Arkansas prison where they were being held while awaiting trial. They had killed one local guard and severely injured two while effecting their escape. They hijacked a car and killed the elderly couple who owned it after having the man max out his ATM card. Two hours later, two of the men killed a teenager and took his van. Somewhere along the way, they got clothing, and at least two automatic pistols.

Extra Marshals were being brought in from all over to find the four men before they killed again. Dwight sent me with Charlie, one of his agents who was widely known as an expert tracker.

“This’ll be like shooting fish in a barrel,” Charlie laughed when he learned that we were teamed up together. “Bring everything with you as you never know what you may need. Bring everything from your BDUs and redneck clothes to a sport coat and slacks for clothing. Dwight has a plane to fly you here to pick me up. From here, we’ll fly west until you say stop,” he said.

I had Charlie call Holly so she could let him into my apartment to get my SWAT armor and shield. Charlie didn’t think we’d need it, but decided we might as well take it since I had it. He also brought my extra ammo. If we got into a firefight with the escapees, we wouldn’t lack for ammunition.

With Janie and Mom helping, it took me twenty minutes to pack everything and get it into my car. I’d have been done in fifteen without their help. Two hours after receiving the call, Charlie and I were airborne and headed west. One of our pilots was the same one who flew me to Mount Sterling. The other was his son.

I took a vector from home and a second from the Dinwiddie airport. I took a third from the Raleigh-Durham Airport. All three vectors showed that the closest target was driving east on I-40. He was between Memphis and Nashville, so we had the pilot take us to Nashville. Charlie radioed ahead and arranged to have an armored Suburban waiting for us.

When we landed, we signed for the charter fee and headed west--after using the bathroom and heading to Wal-Mart for supplies. Supplies in this case meant a cooler filled with ice, soda, and bottled water. We even bought instant coffee and one of those gadgets you plug into the car’s cigarette lighter to heat a cup of water. Charlie suggested a bunch of junk food that wouldn’t spoil.

Next, we found a military surplus store and bought emergency camping gear and MREs. I even bought another case of ammo for our automatic rifles, and ten more magazines for them. If we went through that much ammo in a firefight, we were doing something wrong. Besides, the escapees would probably be out of ammo long before then.

An hour out of Nashville I told Charlie to turn around and head back east on I-40. Twenty minutes later, a blue Honda Accord blew past us. “That’s them,” I said as I wrote down the license plate number. Since the Station Chief knew Charlie, he called it in, giving them the license plate number, and a description of the car and their location.

“How the fuck did you find them so fast?” the Station Chief exclaimed. “I know you’re good, but you’ve been on the ground for less than three hours.”

“Got me a partner that’s even better than I am,” Charlie bragged. We stayed back a ways, just following in case they turned off. Thirty minutes later, traffic came to a standstill. The radio station was describing a major accident about two miles in front of us.

“What do you think?” Charlie asked, grinning. I seconded his grin, and we locked the car and started walking. Since we were both wearing jeans and T-shirts with a thin vest under them, we started forward. When we got close to the escapees’ car, we started talking to other drivers to make it look like we were killing time.

“Hey guys, where ya headed?” I asked the passenger.

“Fuck off,” he replied sourly.

“Okay, but you’re under arrest for using foul language,” I said, smirking as I pressed the barrel of my Glock against his temple. Charlie had his pressed against the other escapee’s head. We had them handcuff each other, hands in front, and then pulled them out of the car, marching them back to our car where we had a dozen sets of shackles. There, we shackled them properly, hands behind them.

Once we had secured both men, Charlie called and asked for a helicopter and two drivers. While we waited, we searched the two men, finding two automatic pistols and two knives on each man. We escorted them over to the shoulder of the freeway and waited. I also got vectors on the remaining two escapees. One was to the northwest, and the other to our southwest. I used a map of the United States and estimated our position as best I could. Then I marked the vector and drew a line towards each man. With such an inexact map, I might be off by a hundred or more miles, but it was a start.

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