Why Didn't I Just...
Chapter 38

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, Time Travel, Historical, DoOver,

Desc: Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 38 - Jimmy Gordon has spent his life drinking, smoking and making money. Now, his lifestyle has caught up with him and he has no time left. At home, drinking and feeling sorry for himself, he finds the one thing he really needs, a second chance.



It is amazing the number of things you can get accomplished when you are running away from a situation you don't want to deal with. After Diane rejected me, I turned all of my attention to anything and everything, just to keep myself distracted. A big part of my escaping centered around helping Angela to get the program set up and running for the pregnant girls. Most of these girls were from fifteen to eighteen years old. One of the first things Angela got set up was to convince three public school teachers to come over to the homes some evenings and donate their time to help any of the girls who were interested in continuing with their educations. We quickly learned that most of the girls were bored silly by just sitting around, doing nothing. About half of them were interested in pursuing their educations. Some of the girls didn't want to go back to school, but were interested in learning some job skills for future employment. Angela found jobs for three of these girls right away, doing assembly work. One of the advantages to this type of work was the girls could stay seated while working, and, because it was piece work, they could work at their own comfortable pace.

Angela found a beauty college which offered to provide a full makeover for any of the girls interested. It seemed like she had something new to help the girls every day. She set up sewing lessons for the girls who were interested, got a cooking class started, and even set up a small child care operation where some of the girls looked after youngsters too young for school. When I spoke to her about her hiring an assistant, she told me she wanted to use several different girls who were in the program instead, paying them each a small stipend to take over some of her duties.

One of these girls she hired, proved to be so good at soliciting gifts and donations for the homes, that we hired her to solicit merchants and businesses four hours each day on the phone. We wound up just giving her a list of things that we needed for all the homes and turning her loose. She got plumbers, electricians and painters to donate their time and skills. The money she saved us from having to pay out, allowed me to channel more of my donations into other needs for the girls. I bought an old six bedroom house in Santa Ana and turned it into a transition home for girls to go to after they gave birth. This allowed girls to have a place to live while they found work and transitioned back into society. More importantly, it gave them an alternative to going back to where they had come from. Angela, at my request, moved into the home to supervise the girls.

I also worked quite a bit with Ken, listening to all his new ideas, and trying to keep him focused on the projects that he already had going. In his past, he had some difficulty with sticking with something after it had gotten started. Often, the success of anything depended on someone continuing to pay attention, and seeing any problems early on, so they could be corrected. With me around to constantly remind him, Ken became better at following through with the daily operation of his ventures. With Ken's ideas, my willingness to put up the necessary seed money, and the success we were having with the investments themselves, Ken was adding accounting clients at a rapid pace. It was fortunate for all of us that Ken's interests were his work and looking at women's breasts. He took to going to various colleges and working in the cafeterias, or outside at a table, when the weather was nice. He was often distracted by passing students, but he managed to get everything done on time. At night, in his apartment, he thought up new twists for tax angles. He didn't own a TV or a radio.

During this time, while I was trying to stay distracted, I hadn't forgotten about Diane. I had my guardian watching her, making sure that she was faring all right. It was late in April when he started talking to me of his concerns for her.

Jimmy, Diane Lowery is planning to leave school at the end of this semester. She's planning on going back home to Oregon to live. She is unhappy.

<Tell me what you mean by unhappy. How is she unhappy?>

She isn't enjoying her school work. She knows her school tuition and expenses are a financial burden to her family. She is depressed about the way her personal life is progressing.

<Does she ever think of me?>

Frequently. She thinks of the time you spent together as a period of personal failure. She believes it was some need you had that she wasn't able to fulfill which caused you to turn to Connie.

<She looked through my memories, didn't she see it had nothing to do with how I felt about her?>

She looked only at the times you and she were together. Her particular interest was the conversation the two of you shared on the ride back from San Diego. She spent most of her time watching and listening to you trying to figure some way to get around telling her about your plans with Connie.

<That's all she looked at? You should have told me. I thought she looked at everything. If all she looked at was that time, no wonder she didn't come back down. I need to go see her again. This time I want you to make her see everything.>

I drove down to the college. It was a little after noon on a Tuesday. The guardian had located Diane for me. She was in the auditorium, practicing on the piano. I walked in, sitting in the back seats, listening to her play. She was playing the same section, repeating it over and over again. It was about fifty notes that she played, and she seemed to be making almost the same error every time.

<Can you give her a better command of her fingers, make her a better pianist?>

I can enhance all her musical abilities. Piano isn't an instrument she favors. Her voice and the clarinet are her primary musical instruments.

<Help her with this piece then. I don't want her frustrated when I talk with her.>

Diane began playing noticeably smoother. She repeated the same passage twice more, then went on to another. I sat there, listening to her play, enjoying the chance to see her in a different setting than before. I knew that she was passionate about music. I hadn't realized how much of a perfectionist she was, never having seen her perform or practice before. She practiced for another forty minutes before gathering up all her music, and putting it into a manila folder. She left the auditorium through an exit down by the stage, leaving me all alone, sitting there, having second thoughts about intruding on her.

She had chosen to watch what she wanted to see, to focus on that tiny part of my life which interested her. Did I have the right to present a much different picture to her? I hoped her seeing me at my best might overcome the effect that seeing me at my worst had produced. She couldn't have picked a less flattering time to view me than the time when I was trying to keep her from finding out about my upcoming trip to see Connie. It was my best case I was trying to present. If I had any chance to win her back, to change her mind, I needed to be able to present that case to her. If she still felt she wanted me to stay away from her after viewing a more representational presentation, I would at least have the comfort of knowing her decision was made with knowledge she didn't now possess. I got up from the chair and walked out the same way I'd come in.

<Make her come down to see me.>

Are you sure this is the best way? It will seem like pure coercion to her.

<She has avoided me for five months already. I thought she was doing it because she knew all about me, and, after knowing, had decided against being with me. Now, I learn that all she watched was what I was saying and thinking over a ten minute span of my life. A ten minute span I would have to say was the worst ten minutes of my behavior in all the time we spent together. I need for her to see all the rest of it. To weigh all the good and all the bad. I can accept her decision if it is based on a more complete picture.>

I would still strongly advise against proceeding this way. Forcing her to see your presentation would guarantee that your message wouldn't find a receptive audience. There are many superior options open to you.

<Such as?>

I could alter her mind, make her less opposed to a reconciliation with you. If necessary, I could make her believe she was acting of her own volition.

<You mean that you could trick her into believing she loves me?>

Altered perception isn't a trick. For her, and for you, it would be the new reality. Her love would be real, as real as your own love for her. If you don't wish to do that, I can alter your perception of her. She is unhappy now. What I would do for her would result in her being happy once again. Is that a bad thing?

<I'm going to ask you once again, make her come down to see me.>

As you wish.

A minute later, Diane appeared in the dorm building's doorway. She seemed puzzled about how she got there. When she saw me, she seemed surprised at first, and then afraid.

"Don't be afraid Diane. I just needed to see you today. I found out something today which I hadn't known or been aware of before. Five months ago, I told my guardian to make my mind, and all of my memories available to you to examine and inspect. I was hoping you would decide to give me another chance, once you had seen everything I'd thought and done, and knew how very important you are to me. I told him to make everything available to you, to hold back nothing. Today I found out that you only looked over a few things, mostly the one time I was behaving most poorly. I need you to look at all of it, to make your decision based on everything, not just the worst parts of my behavior with you.

"I want you to do this willingly though, not because anyone forced you to do it. If you refuse, I'll leave, and I won't ever bother you again. If you do it, and you still feel the same way about me, I'll accept that too. It was only because I believed you'd already done this that I gave up the last time. I'm asking you to please look at all of me this time. I can be at peace if I know you've made an informed decision, I can't be at peace if you chose not to look at all of it."

"How would I know what I was seeing was the truth? I don't understand how you do that, putting that inside my head. For all I know, you can make it show me whatever you want it to."

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Story tagged with:
Ma/Fa / Consensual / Time Travel / Historical / DoOver /