Caution: This Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Romantic, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Masturbation, .
Desc: Sex Story: Prologue - Selena and Joe was a popular story and rolled off the keyboard easy because I knew how it would end. I lost a few friends in the 911 attacks,the characters Joe and Selena were based on them. To this day I get emails from people who want me to change the ending and continue the story, or give it a heroic ending. I never gave much thought until a regular reader of my stories sent me an article from a UK paper of a man who was GONE for 5 years and woke as if nothing happened....Enjoy...Petty
“Betty, I’m going for a walk and to check on the house!” Scott Hanson yelled out as he opened the door and waited for his wife to acknowledge his leaving.
“OK Hon, but don’t be too long. Don’t sit and mope and let it tear you up anymore. I hate the anniversary. Every year it seems to take more out of us that the year before.” She spoke from the top of the stairs where she had walked to see him leave.
9/11/2010 had been just what Scott and Betty Hanson had thought it would be, a reliving of the memory of the day 9 years ago when it became painfully obvious by days’ end that their daughter and her new husband were lost in the fall of the towers of the World Trade Center. In the ensuing days they would learn of Joe and Selena’s marriage on 9/10 to help facilitate a real estate deal that seemed to be the last electronic transfer of monies and ownership to come out of the two behemoth towers that fell at the hands of terrorists. A quickie on-line will was signed the evening of their marriage, a simple case of Joe Johnson not letting any t go uncrossed or I un-dotted. That will left all of their worldly possessions to Selena’s parents, who were the only relatives they had. There were specific instructions to arrange that everything, especially the real estate holdings, stock and bonds, be eventually left to an endowment for PolyTech. Joe and Selena probably laughed at the thought of Scott and Betty Hanson owning Joe Johnsons little palace at the top of their street and the 3 other homes they had just closed on, as well as a few million in holdings.
Scott and Betty took a long time before they considered the windfall as a gift from their daughter, her legacy to them. They thought they would make the endowments on their deaths and enjoy what they could while they lived. But, that lifestyle was not for them. Ross Curran and Slim (Chielm Beupour) managed the stocks and bonds for them as well as hired services to maintain the properties they bought as their dying act. Scott and Betty visited the house in Maine, but never ventured to the others. All were leased and brought in more money. They lived comfortably, but not extravagantly. Their one weakness was visiting the house where their daughter and Joe lived. They kept the pool open as long as they could each season and often prepared meals there hoping that some spirit of their daughter and her husband would be there with them.
Although they never spoke of it, both Scott and Betty often went to the house alone and lay on the bed where their daughter had slept and made love. They hugged the pillow and the bed clothes she had put underneath the pillow her last night there. Although any scent of their daughter was probably long gone, it still smelled like Selena. They often wept and spoke to her spirit, hoping she might hear. As sad as it sounded, it was very therapeutic and maybe the one thing that got them through the 9 years since.
Of course they loved and missed Joe as well, if not for any other reason than that he worshipped and took such great care of their daughter. He made her so happy and changed her life, made her drive to her goals. Where Scott had pshawed in his mind the idea Joe had put forth that God had put each of them here together for each other, he believed it more than ever now.
As he got to the blind drive that led to Joe Johnsons home he noticed that he needed to trim some branches on the trees that semi-hid the drive. He made a note to himself that he would do that when he came up to mow and trim in a few days. Scott kept up the yard and Betty the inside of the house, what little it was used. Selena’s white Mustang with a red tonneau vinyl roof sat on blocks in the garage waiting for her return to drive down the street, her blonde hair flowing in the breeze. Removing the car, or selling it would be to close the book, and they had no intention of that.
Scott walked up to the rear gate and checked to be sure it was secure before unlocking it and entering. He feared kids might sneak in to use the pool. He rolled back the cover on the pool to be sure no vermin were in the pool before he ran the filter overnight. Tomorrow he planned to start closing it for the season. He checked the locks on the cabana and walked to the sliding doors and walked inside, wishing he heard the bustle of teletypes and computers like before, but all was quiet. Scott walked down though the garage to be sure all was fine and then made his stop at the bedroom. He sat on the edge of the bed and laid back, pulling her pillow to his face, inhaling deeply.
“My little girl was protected from everything I could think of, and I left her in the hands of someone who may have loved her more than me. He protected her from everything we could both think of, but neither of us could think of what DID happen. It was the unthinkable, I am so, so sorry Selena.” He said to himself as if the pillow might hear and relay the message to her. He put the pillow neatly back on top of the bedclothes she had laid there and went to the bar to pour himself a short drink to toast her spirit, as he did each time he came to the house. He flipped on the TV to get the last of the news and maybe a local drop-in with the nights forecast.
The anchor, Jim Jimpson, was billboarding the last segment of the news.
“This story is not to give anyone false hope,, but to maybe bring some joy to a heartbroken family out there. Our Lance McNally reports;
“Dissociative Fugue State is a mental affliction commonly diagnosed as Multiple Personality Disorder or amnesia. Although some countries have almost no cases of DFS there is a nominal percentage of people diagnosed in the US to make some think that the disorder is either over-diagnosed or perhaps non-existent. In any event, those said to suffer with it sometime end up with total memory loss of their past and wake each day as a different personality, a personality so complex that doctors feel that it may be that of, or as, a significant person in the persons past life. The Edison Mental Studies Clinic in Seagirt, New Jersey is a small campus that was formerly a summer resort that now houses 60 so called “DFS patients”. (The camera pans away from McNally to a group of small buildings with a long brick building in the center) One of those patients, however, has caused quite a stir because he has now kept the same unwavering personality for almost 3 weeks and is totally convinced that he survived the 911 attack in the first tower hit and wandered away with his wife, whom he asks for despondently each day now. His name checks out as one thought to be a victim of the attacks that day and the information he is supplying match’s the victim. Yet, how likely is it that a person could have walked away, especially with his injuries, and gotten this far?”
The screen fills with the face of a middle aged woman with her name placard across the bottom of the screen. DR. JOANNE CULVER PHD Head Client Supervisor.
“He was found homeless is Wiggins Waterfront Park in Camden where he frightened the other homeless so much, because of his ever changing personality’s that they brought him to the social worker who regularly checked on them. He had a large scar on his head, like he had been attacked or in a fight, and he could barely walk, his knees were so bad. We cleaned him up and got him stabilized and since put him through a couple knee replacement operations. “John” (not his real name) has never been stable enough to move from here into society and remains a ward of the state. Lately he’s been with a limited number of the more stable in the population here to socialize and seems to be quite a ladies’ man, but gets along with everyone in his cluster. But now this latest personality he has taken up has depth far beyond anything we have seen in this disorder.”
Lance McNally continues: “Is there a possibility that he is who he says he is and has total memory recall of his whole life? Statistics say no, only because it’s never happened before. His fingerprints and DNA have drawn no matches. We’re hoping someone see’s this story and recognizes him, keeping in mind he’s been here since Thanksgiving 2001.”
The brief look Scott had at the man in the story stunned him. The look was a bit different, but familiar. He recalled the first time he saw his face answering the door the first time he came to pick up his daughter more than 12 years ago.
“Ah, you must be Selena’s father. My name is Joe Johnson, I’m here for her, and we’re going to dinner and a concert.” Joe said a bit nervously.
Scott Hanson extended his hand and shook Joe’s and invited him in.
“Selena, your date is here.” He yelled up the stairs.
A voice from a room off the upstairs landing yelled back.
“I KNOW! Someone’s early.” Came her peeved voice.
Scott turned to Joe and half smiled. Before he could say anything Joe spoke up. “I came bit early to meet you so you would know who she was with, so you wouldn’t have to worry. I’m really quite taken with your daughter, she’s quite special.”
“Special she is! She’s said that she was seeing someone she also thought was special. I know that you haven’t pressured her into being lax on her studies to see each other and I commend you for that. She says you had a similar experience.”
“Yes, I did. I was pushed ahead 2 years and also went to PolyTech. As a matter of fact, the think tank she will be on Wall Street for is one I wanted for a long time. I envy her in that situation, but I know the tough time she is having right now. The first half semester of the third year is a grinder.”
Scott wore the same half smile from before.
“I know you two haven’t been seeing each other long, but your intentions are clear if I read the two of you right. She’s elusive when I ask your age, but I can see you’re at least 30. I also know you run your family’s construction company and you are a Wall Street bird dog. So, I don’t think you’re a hound. Just be honest with her, and with me. She’s still my little girl, no matter what.”
“Don’t worry Mr. Hanson I...” Joe started to say before he stopped and stared.
Selena was coming down the stairs in a long dress that hugged her curves; a wine colored affair with gold accents and buttons. Her hair was up with wispy locks falling at the sides.
Scott Hanson turned to see what had caught Joe’s attention and he smiled.
“I guess I will never get used to how beautiful you are.” Joe said to Selena. “I will be so proud to go anywhere with you knowing that every man who sees you will do a double take. You are that breathtaking.”
Selena blushed deeply and looked at her father for reaction. Mr. Hanson kept looking first at Selena, and then at Joe, trying to read their eyes and reactions. It was clear that the attraction and electricity between the two was palpable.
Joe walked from his position where he was talking to Mr. Hanson to the bottom step and extended his hand. Selena took it, smiled and kissed Joe right on the lips.
“You look quite handsome yourself, thank you. Mom!! Come see how handsome my Joseph is!!” She yelled up the stairs.
Joe blushed himself as he saw the attractive Mrs. Hanson come to the top of the stairs and begin stepping down.
“Hello, I’m Betty Hanson and I’m so pleased to meet you, Joe.” Selena’s Mom said as she extended her hand.
Joe cordially extended his hand and then turned to Selena and offered his arm.
“We should go so we can park and be there for our table. It’s been so nice to meet you both.” Joe said as he whisked Selena to the door.
“Don’t be too late!” Scott Hanson hollered as they went off the porch.
“How could this be?” Scott thought as his mind reeled and he fell back into the stool he had been sitting at like he had been struck in the stomach.
His mind raced at thinking this was at all possible; that he be alive and that he knew about his daughter’s fate and demise. He felt a certain joy that Joe might be alive, but more importantly, did Selena survive as well? Did he have answers?
He fumbled for the DVR to rewind and get the name of the facility the story was done from and the name of a person he could speak to. He hadn’t even called Betty yet, but he was dialing the phone for the number of The Edison Mental Studies facility.
Once he got through and asked for Dr. Culver there was a wait and Scott knew his heart was racing and his breathing became labored and heavy in anticipation.
JC: “Hello, this is Dr. Culver, is this call in response to the TV news?”
SH: “Yes, who does this man claim to be?”
JC: “Might I ask YOUR name first?”
SH: “Certainly, my name is Scott Hanson. I believe this man is my son in law.”
JC: “What is his name?”
SH: “I believe that the man I saw in the story is Joe Johnson.”
JC: “Tell me something about Joe Johnson that only a person close to him might know.”
SH: “I know you said he had knee replacements, but he has a large wide scar on the back of his right knee.”
JC: “Can you give me a few moments? Let me see what his reaction to your name is.”
Scott Hanson thought he might pass out from anticipation as he waited on hold for almost 5 minutes before Dr. Culver picked up again.
JC: “Mr. Hanson, do you think you could come here and speak to us sometime this week?”
SH: “I can be there tomorrow, my wife will be with me.”
JC: “She would be Selena? He asked if she was coming.”
SH: “No. Selena was his wife, my daughter. She died with him at the towers, or so I thought.”
JC: (long pause)”I know, I thought they might share the same name. Umm, ... come to the gate and indentify yourselves and I’ll meet you there tomorrow, morning or afternoon?”
SH: “Mid to late morning. If I remember correctly, you’re about 4 hours from here, a little south of Asbury Park?”
JC: “Yes, that’s it. If you have an email, I can send directions to the facility.”
SH: “Yes, firstname.lastname@example.org”
JC: “OK, I look forward to speaking to you.”
Scott suddenly had the willies, spooked to the core as he rushed from the house and locked the door, almost running down Sheridan Avenue and up to his Decatur Avenue home.
Betty was skeptical of the claims of the man, but was hopeful that there could be more closure on their daughter. Neither of them slept that night and were on the road by 7 o’clock in order to get their before noon.