Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Teenagers, Consensual, Romantic, Reluctant, Heterosexual, Science Fiction, Humor, Extra Sensory Perception, InLaws, First, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Masturbation, Petting, Slow, School,
Desc: Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 1 - A high-school student comes to terms with some remarkable abilities, and learns that all the Newtons and Joules of the universe can not solve the problems at the frontier of the human soul.
Looking back, I think the first clue about my abilities occurred months before they started manifesting. It was in the first week of January in 2001. I was still sixteen at the time. It was the week my mom died.
I've had classmates who've lost family members, through accidents and illnesses, so I've seen both ways, fast and slow. Before I lost my mom, I used to think that fast was better. Maybe I still do. I would have hated to watch her suffer. But the shock... Oh man, it's brutal. And the guilt... Not too much in my case, just the normal regrets of not being nicer to someone you loved while you had the chance. For my dad though, it was a different world entirely...
He'd been married to my mom for more than thirty years. They both grew up in Sterling, Illinois, a small town of about fifteen thousand an hour or two west of Chicago. My parents lived there all their lives, sharing classes in primary school, becoming high- school sweethearts... My dad started working for Northwestern Steel and Wire right out of high school, just like his dad. My mom became a sales clerk. They married each other when they were both twenty-one.
My dad is a union man. I'm not saying that to boast or to put down. I'm just telling you his perspective. According to my dad, there are two great opposing forces in the universe. I'm not talking about God and the Devil. I'm talking about labor and management, and my dad is on the side of truth and goodness. He's labor.
My dad thinks of the USW as his family. He's also honest, a hard worker, kind, and horrified by lack of loyalty the Northwestern owners have shown for their workers. My dad has seen it all, from reneging on promises for medical care to blacklisting people who spoke out about safety violations.
My dad started working the night shift in 1967 as an apprentice operator, learned the various trades of tending and casting, became a team leader... By the 1980's he was working mostly with specialty steels, and in the last decade before the accident he earned his certificates as master millwright and worked almost exclusively in maintenance and installation. He loved his work, took pride in it to the core of his being. Then in December of 2000, after 122 years in operation, Northwestern filed for Chapter 11. And a few weeks later there was the car crash. For a while everything just seemed to fall apart.
It started for me in the early Monday morning of January 1, 2001, a few hours before sunrise. I was home alone fast asleep when someone started pounding on the door. It was the police...
I was at Community General a half hour later, met dad in a deserted waiting room outside the surgery area. He almost didn't recognize me, and I almost didn't recognize him. He looked as if he was aged fifteen years in the last few hours. In a shell-shocked voice he told me what happened.
He and mom were coming home from the union's New Year's Eve party, about two in the morning. Dad was driving. Mom had just unclicked her seatbelt to get something from her purse in the back, and suddenly there was a tremendous crash and the car went flying. Dad and the other driver were unbelievably lucky, a few pulled muscles and some minor cuts from the glass. Mom though... Mom went through the windshield, head first...
For all the torture dad would put himself through in the coming months, we never could get a clear picture of what happened. Except for the driver of the other car, there were no witnesses. He claimed dad swerved wildly and struck him, but that story didn't particularly fit with the crash evidence. Both drivers had been drinking, but both were also legally sober. In the end no citations were issued. It was just one of those accidents. Maybe if the lighting or the road conditions were just a little bit better, or if either driver had been just a little more alert... maybe nothing would have happened.
If... In reality, I was sitting with my dad in the living room in the late afternoon after the funeral. I asked him a couple of times whether he'd like something for dinner, but he kept shaking his head no. I just sat there in silence with him for almost an hour, not knowing quite what to do. I knew what dad's problem was. Men of his generation are not supposed to cry...
I had my eyes closed, thinking of mom, hating the emptiness of the hole she left. I was angry and sad and frustrated all at the same time, and then all the emotions seemed to focus into one white-hot spark of rebellion against the universe, and I felt the brief flash of a terrific headache behind my eyes.
I opened my eyes. "Uh... Yeah dad?"
"Did you just flick the lights on and off?"
"Huh? From here?"
My dad just stared at me for a while. "Yeah, I guess not. I must be seeing things. Sorry..." He closed his eyes before I could reply.
I sat there feeling totally bewildered. The weirdest part was, I had seen the flash too, but it was behind my eyes, two live wires of anger and sorrow shorting against each other in my mind. How in the world could dad have picked up on that? I sat there probing my mind for the intense headache I thought was coming, but I felt fine. I finally shrugged it off as a meaningless coincidence. There was no other logical explanation. And I was right. There was nothing logical about that flash at all...