Second Chance
Chapter 15

SECOND CHANCE is copyright protected. Any use, including reprints, without specific written permission is forbidden and illegal

DoOver Sci-fi Sex Story: Chapter 15 - 43 year old Carl watched helplessly as Death came for him in the form of an overloaded produce truck. Suddenly he found himself in the body of a 14 year old boy, injured in the same accident. Now Carl had to learn how to live as Brian and cope with a new life and a loving mother.

Caution: This DoOver Sci-fi Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/Fa   Consensual   Science Fiction   DoOver   Incest   Mother   Son   First   Oral Sex   Anal Sex   Masturbation   Petting  

The next two weeks were ... unpleasant. I ended up staying in the hospital for nine days, recovering from the bullet wound and subsequent surgery to repair all the damage – from both incidents - at once. The wound tuned septic on me, and the ensuing infection threatened to lay me low.

Between the truck accident and the shooting, there was quite a lot to repair and recover. Beth Ann visited every morning, just before lunch, bringing me actual food instead of that awful, fake, hospital fare. We had lunch together and bonded, day-by-day.

Over the course of my convalescence, I heard most of Beth Ann's back-story, including things she didn't tell me the last time through. Trusting her, I shared a bunch of things that stood out in my life, most of which occurred in the years before I married Judith.

That's how I thought of my life for a long time - BJ and AJ. Before Judith and After Judith.

After Judith and I married, my life took a boring, almost sorrowful turn. It was a relief when she decided to become a full time lesbian and left me for good. I can't say that it didn't hurt, just that the hurt was a price to be paid to reclaim myself and dust off the clutter that was life during Judith.

When Beth Ann wasn't keeping me company, Colleen and Rebecca spent quality time with me, both in the hospital and after my release. The leg was very slow to rebound, and I spent two months using a wheel chair to reduce the impact against my sutures.

All this took place while I was under guard, as the DOJ was convinced I was still in danger due to the circumstances of the last attack. The one gunman who lived told an insane tale of the mafia oath of omerta, the vow of silence-unto-death, and that the mob would continue to pursue my death sentence. It was so beyond the pale of reality that I mostly blew it off, and encouraged everyone else to blow it off, too.

Still, the Judge and the Secretary had their own agenda, and insisted on keeping me alive at any cost, especially since the mob was paying the full bill.

"Think of it this way," Judge Jones said, logically. "We seized their fortune and are spending it keeping them from getting revenge, so they are paying to keep themselves from doing you harm. If nothing else, the humor of it all should appeal to you." He was right. It did.

The Judge also gave me the name of the mobster I shot on the dock. Karma must really be a bitch, because it was one of the same guys I killed in the hangar during that first attack, when the FBI agent tried to shoot me. Hearing his name out of the blue like that set me back for little while, but I clung to my motto: 'If you lie down in the mud, you'll get dirt on you, ' and he did.

Jim and Colleen created my trust, and the US Government lived up to their end of the bargain, depositing obscene amounts of money into the trust accounts. Jim said his trust was quite healthy, also.

When Hillman trucking paid off, I used some of my new found fortune to buy the houseboat and have it moved to a dock attached to a property I bought on the north shore of Table Rock. The view was pristine, and the setting was magical. I fell in love with the second floor deck, where I could elevate my leg, enjoy the view, and drink iced tea to my heart's content.

It didn't hurt that it was the same house I bought for Colleen and Rebecca and me.

Beth Ann, Brian, Colleen, Rebecca, Jim, and Millie came for a house warming party the second weekend after I moved in, and we made a long weekend of it. I hired caterers to handle all three meals a day, furnished all seven bedrooms, so there was plenty of room for guests, and hired an orchestra for dancing.

Jim and Millie got the big, first floor master bedroom, while Beth Ann and Brian shared a two-bedroom suite on the third floor. Colleen and Rebecca had adjoining bedrooms near mine, and we partied till we got tired, slept till we were revived, and enjoyed bar-b-que whenever the spirit hit us.

Right after one of the servers asked him if he would dance with her, Brian discovered he LOVED to dance. They made a sweet couple, and we cheered them when they finished.

During the daylight hours everyone but me played on the two jet skis I bought for the back of the houseboat. I kept pace in a runabout that Hank sold me, so I could be nearby if one of the jet skis quit working. The houseboat made a great mother ship for midday meals, and a place to tie up and rest if the sun got too hot.

All in all, we had a blast, and it was a perfect way to celebrate my first Branson house.

On the second night, Jim and Millie went home, promising to return after church on Sunday. Colleen and Rebecca pleaded work and left shortly after. Beth Ann sent Brian to bed, and then she joined me on my super king sized mattress for some extracurricular activity.

We blended perfectly. Beth Ann was passionate but not selfish. Her needs were obvious but not overwhelming, and she gave as good as she got. Right after she caught on to all the ways she could participate in lovemaking, she threw herself into it with utter abandon. I think she discovered she loved to climax and loved discovering how many ways there were to make it happen. We wore each other out, especially Beth Ann, because I couldn't be on top without either falling over, or screaming in pain.

I slipped out of bed early and brought her breakfast, feeding her one bite at a time, while entertaining her with silliness. It was a pleasant, gentle, loving morning for us, and all the better because we weren't hiding it from anyone. Brian knew his mother was sexually active and wasn't even slightly jealous. Rebecca and Colleen almost insisted we have the night alone and smiled their sneaky smiles when they left.

It's good to be the king.

"I think you should call me, "Oh Great King," I said proudly.

"Why would I even think of calling you anything of the sort?" She said.

"Because I slayed the evil dragons to save you from certain harm, and that justifies me being referred to as, 'Oh Great King.' Don't you agree?"

"Those awful, bad guys tried so hard to defeat you, and you being so innocent and virginal ... and you know ... stuff. And here I was, mister brave and strong, protecting the far maiden from a fate worse than ... than ... than all that scary stuff!

 
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