Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience. Wildflowers Part 14 by Chris Hailey, Copyright 2017 Story codes: Mg12, Mg7, incest, oral, historical Summary: Part fourteen of the epic tale of twelve year old Marilyn and her trek across the United States. In this part, Blossom wishes to make her melancholy man feel better after the horrible events of a few days earlier, and does so in a way that only a twelve year old girl can do. Historical lolita erotica in a romantic setting! =============== It's been months now since I last took pen to inkwell to write about my and my family's travels to the West. For those of you that's been following my story for a while now, I wish to apologize for not having written in so long. I hopes you can understand. This tale has been hard for me, and even harder for my loved ones, and the last part I wrote took a good deal out of me. It ain't an easy thing to tell, and I suppose it ain't an easy thing to reads, neither. Good men died that day, two whom I'd come to love very much, one of which was the love of my dear and wonderful sister Jane and the father of the baby in her womb. Can you imagine how poor dear Jane was after this? I can hardly put words down on paper to describe it, and my tears blot the ink away. But I got me a story to tell, to finish up, and there ain't a whole lot of that story left now. And I knows that there are some of you out there who maybe might be interested in what ends up happening to the Dunlaps' and the Flannerys' (what were now only Jane, and hopefully soon her baby), and to what remains of the Admundsons' and the others who was still among us. It was a dark little wagon train what left that horrible scene the next morning. My man, my lover and my husband, was in such a melancholy state, I can hardly describe what he were like. My heart bursts at the thought of it All he did and all he could do was drive us hard, all day and into the night, and all the next, and all the next. He spake bare a word, even to me, for this entire time. I knew he'd lost his newest and best friend Flannery, and along with him also a man he admired much and had known for some length of time in the Bishop Admundson. I didn't tell him, nor not anyone else, what the bishop had done to me the night before the bandits came. I'd intended to tell Dunlap, for I like not keeping secrets from my man, but now it seemed so distant, like in another life, and it seemed like I'd be besmirching Dunlap's memory of the man. So I held my tongue about this. I also knew that it weren't just the loss of these good men that drove my husband to despair, but also the fact that he'd done kilt those three bandits that day. For Dunlap is a man of peace, and no matter how right his vengeance were, and no matter how it may have ended to our advantage with the saddlebags of gold, he hated that he'd killed those men. But I confess that I felt quite differently about it than he. As I lay awake those nights, wishing that my poor husband would show his love to me and to our baby in my womb, I knews that he was too melancholy to do this. He'd set his bedroll apart from the rest of us, as me and Little Crow did what we could at night to comfort poor Eliza Honeysuckle and Jane in their own melancholy misery, and as I lay awake there apart from my husband, I sees him in my mind riding back from the encounter with those remaining bandits, their dead bodies over the backs of their horses, and my heart burst with pride. For my man, my husband, were as brave and strong and as handsome as any man there is. I'd loved the man hard before that day, but I'd never loved him more than I did now. So this night I waited for him to set his bedroll, again apart from us ladies, and then I gets up and moves my bedroll to him. He gives me a nice smile in the darkness, but a sad smile I'm sorry to say. And then as I lay with my husband, on the third night out from that horrible day, with the mountains of our destination now looming near and not but a few days further ride, I turns to him and I says, "Dunlap, I knows you're feeling down, and I wish to do what I can as your wife and your lover, to set you to feeling a little better." He gives me his sweet sad smile. "Blossom, I love you so dear, my little love, but I'm afraid I ain't in the mood for such right nows." "But I am," I said to him. It weren't like me to talk back much, especially not to him, but this were different. This were important. I'm sure the ladies amongst my readers would agree! "And the baby in my womb is of the same mind as me, Dunlap. She wants her daddy to show him her love again." He smiled, but it were that melancholy smile that was the best he could muster right now, and he said nor did no more. So I continue. "Mr. Dunlap," says I, "You are the finest and handsomest man in Lord's creation." And that was a complete truth. "And I'm your wife, and you're feeling down, and a girl's got something she might give to her husband, when he's feeling down." "I suppose that's true, my love," says he, with a pitiful little sigh. "Some might even say a girl's got a duty to give thus to her husband." By now I had my hand over to him, and I could feel him growing to my touch. "But the truth is, Mr. Dunlap," I says, "it ain't from duty, nor even so much from a desire to make you feel better, that I'm wanting this." As I spake I tapped my fingers on his thickening manhood, to make clear what I means by "this." "No?" says he. "What is it then?" I run my fingers up and down his cock. "You are the kindest and bravest man I know," I tell him. "And I've got a craving for you." This were true, of course, but even more because I knew then but would not say to him that the last man I was with was not my husband, but was the poor dead bishop, and that just didn't feel right to me. I needed to have my man's seed inside me now, to make up for that wrong, and so did our baby inside me. "Now," I said, and as I spoke this time I began to pull his drawers down, "I have a desire to kiss your beautiful manhood, for I ain't kissed it in days but what seems like years to me." He helped me get his drawers off, and now I noticed that his smile were less of the melancholy sort. "And I have a desire to have you inside me," I says as I climbed between his legs. I looked up at his manly handsome face. "To have you fuck me," I said, all naughty-like but very matter-of-fact. "Well," says he, "a man would be wrong to deny this to his wife." He smiled even almost happy-like. "I agrees," I said. But now I weren't looking at his face as I spoke. I were looking at his beautiful cock. It was dark in the wagon that night, but I could see enough of it to enjoy, and it'd been far too long since mine eyes had feasted upon this glorious sight, his shaft so long and thick and hard, reddish from all the blood that's filled it full, veins popping out and throbbing. His balls, his huge swollen sperm-filled testicles, hung below in their cute reddish-wrinkled sack. I leaned down and gave his balls kisses, kissing all over his beautiful manly scrotum, pausing in my kisses only to whisper sweet things to them. "I love you," I whispers to them, "you wonderful handsome Dunlap balls." This sent the man to groaning! "I love the sperm you make, and I thanks you for giving it to me and making a baby in me." I took each of his huge balls into my mouth, holding each tenderly between my teeth with my lips wrapped around him, warming him and bathing him with my tongue. Then with my mouth and nose nuzzled into his sack, I looked up at my husband. "My mouth is your balls' home, Mr. Dunlap," I says up to him. "Whenever they want comfort, or wish to be warmed and cleaned, just you tell me and I will stop alls I's doing and they can be home again, and I'll warm them and bathe them and make sure they knows how much I love them." Dunlap could only groan in replay! It were the cutest thing! Then I place my tongue right at the bottom of his shaft, right where his ballsack starts hanging, and I licks up, all the way along his glorious manpole, my tongue pressing against the thick tube that runs the length of it. When I reaches the tip, his excited cock lurched upwards, wanting to be in my mouth, and I rewarded it, opening my mouth wide and taking his head in and giving it a solid suck. But there I stopped, for I had another thing I wished to do with this cock. I have another home for him. And sos I climbed up on top of him, and I helped his cock find its way into my pussy. As I sat down onto him, feeling his thickness stretch me open deep inside, I says, "My pussy is your cock's home, Mr. Dunlap." He groaned again, the sweet man! I pulled up a bit, and sat down again. "You must always let your cock come home, Dunlap," says I, siting up and down, sliding on and off, fucking him now, "at least once every day. For my pussy is never happy if she cannot have her man coming home to her. If she cannot kiss him and hold him and hug him and bathe him and make him feel welcome." I had my hands on his strong chest now and were thumping up and down on his cock, and that's when I seen little Lucy come over from where she were sleeping with the other ladies, and snuggle up against her pa, who kisses her on the top of her head. She looks up at me with a big smile and says, "You're showing papa how much you love him!" "I is!" I said back. Dunlap held our little daughter close to him and his face were growing red and he was moaning. I knew he must have a whole lot sperm he needs to let go, it'd been days and days by now since I or any woman had helped him out and he must be full to the brim! So I says to him, "Dunlap," I says, "my womb is your sperm's home. It's where your sperm belongs, and you must keep her full at all times. And now my womb is the home for your little baby, and she loves your sperm too, she loves the nourishment her papa gives her. Please feed our baby now!" Lucy was all smiles at this. "I love my papa's sperm too!" she says. "Just like my little sister does!" I gave her a great big smile just as I felt her papa's cock throb and the man let out a long low moan and I felt my insides get all warm and wet with my husband's cum. As he pumped and pumped, I lays down fully on him and I gave little Lucy a kiss and she smiled big at me and says, "Mama Blossom, my daddy loves you so!" And I responded, "He do!" When we was finished, in the quiet dark of Dunlap's big handsome wagon, while I still lay atop him and we kissed, me and him and Lucy close and kissing, I sees Eliza Honeysuckle rise from her bedroll and come over to where we lay, and Little Crow come shortly after, and with her came Song who was carrying baby Flower in her arms. I slid off to the side of our man and took Flower from her sister and lay down with her, opening my petticoat and offering the baby a breast, which she took with her sweet enthusiasm. And so the kind and brave Dunlap were surrounded by all the women of his family that night, his three wives--Little Crow, Eliza, and myself--and his three daughters, Lucy and Song and baby Flower, and yet a fourth daughter as well, in my womb, if it's right to count her. And thus despite the wrongs of this broken world and all the horrible events that had happened to us and to this fine man, things were set to right again, at least for our little family, at least for that one night. I was pleased when I awoken before the dawn to the sound of my husband stirring, and there he were standing in the darkness with his pants gone and his cock all big and hard again. This set me to thinking that I'd done right by him that evening, stirring up some of his almighty passion again, which the man so sorely needed. This time, though, I lied quite still and did not act awake, for it was his daughter Lucy he went to now with his manneed. Like Flannery used to do with her, back when the poor man was still alive, Flannery whos found himself so attracted to little Lucy's seven-year-old mouth, Dunlap stood before her and she took his big thick head in between her lips as best she could, and she held onto his balls with her little fingers, and the two of them together stroked his shaft. Soon the man set to sliding his head in deeper, so that all of it was in her mouth, which she could barely do but for having practiced some with Flannery who had a bit smaller cockhead. So there I lay then and just quietly watched my husband Dunlap make love to his daughter, our daughter, to Lucy's sweet and loving mouth. "Oh, Lucy," the man moans as he held tight to her head now with both his hands while she continued to stroke him with one of hers and pet his ballsack with the other. And then I sees Eliza sit up, and my heart near burst with happiness to see the poor grieving girl with her face showing a smile, and reaching out, and helping Lucy stroke. "Eliza," Dunlap says, looking over at his youngest wife with his voice filled with joy and wonder. "Dunlap," she answers, looking up at him. "I loves you, Eliza," he whispers, and he reaches over and gently stoked her cheek. "I love you too, Mr. Dunlap," she answers. I was smiling now with the joy of their love, and even maybe I shed a tear or two. He turns and looks at his daughter. "And I love you, Lucy," he says. "Mmmg muugg," was all she could say, for her mouth were still full of her daddy's cock. It was all I could do to help but giggle at this! "Oh, Lucy," he moaned, "oh my baby girl! Do you want Papa's cum in your mouth?" She could only nod, which she did with happiness and a twinkling eye. He lifted his head into the air with a long low grunt, and I could see him trembling, and I knew he was cumming in little Lucy's mouth. His daughter held tenderly to his rocks, his big sore needy testicles, and she and Eliza Honeysuckle continued stroking him together, and Dunlap groaned and pumped, and pumped and groaned. Lucy took quite a mouthful of her daddy's cum that night I'm certain! And she caught it all and swallowed it down. Like the baby in my womb earlier, she was nourished by her own father's seed. And she was happy for it, she smiled big and her pretty eyes glistened. Then Dunlap lay down next to her and I could sees his hand reaching down between her legs, and Eliza's hand too, and the two of them petted Lucy's kitten until they all fell back to sleep. Some three or four days after this fine night, our little wagon train of just three wagons now, Dunlap's, with his little family inside, and the Admundson's, with Dunlap's son Jebediah at the reins, and the Jameson's, with the remaining wives and children of the poor slain Mr.s Johnson and Young along with them, and many livestock and horses along in tow, we arrived at the glorious mountains of the distant west, dark with pine and spruce and the teams working so hard to pull us up and up to the pass we were aiming to. And thus begins the final section of this here tale, which I promise to relate to you soon. [If you like this story--or if you don't like it!--please consider leaving a comment at my erotic fiction web site, Thanks!]