Second Chance
Chapter 35

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DoOver Sci-fi Sex Story: Chapter 35 - 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  

Time is an angry mistress. My 'time' in this body far exceeded any of my other insertions, so whatever it was I was supposed to do hadn't happened, or the universe had finally forgot about me. I was good with the latter, and worried about the former.

Waiting for some major event that required me to step in and do something wonderful was wearing on me. Each time I found myself involved in major happenings, be it weather events, tragedies, or personal things that would have gone unnoticed, I wondered if this was 'it.' I'd died often enough not to feel fear, as much as trepidation about how, and where. The truth, when I told myself the truth, was that I had grown tired of wondering and wanted to get it over with, and hopefully reclaim my family in some other body, and live something resembling a normal life.

'Be very careful what you wish for, ' could be one way to look at the lack of a defining event, because as long as I was still here, someone else wasn't prematurely dead. That was good. On the other hand, waiting for that special someone to get dead, so I could get started recapturing my life was tedious.

Charles manfully resisted forcing me and Shirley together. I suspect he knew my heart wasn't going there, and a fact-finding mission to Tahiti wasn't likely to change anything. Shirley, on the other hand, still held out hope, and Casey, at nearly twelve, was turning into a wonderful young lady, that still wanted to be on my lap, in my arms, or balancing on the bottoms of my feet.

Charles invited me to dinner at the White House about once a month, always with a topic to discuss. Casey was always dressed like a perfect little lady, and Shirley still attended as an amazing, beautiful, sexy, and desirable woman.

That was where it ended for me.

I spent at least two weekends a month in Branson, and arranged for at least one of my ladies to be with me in D.C. one more time a month. We kept ourselves quite busy while we were together. The magic hadn't worn off, and we wisely chose to avoid additional pregnancies, choosing stability over productivity.

Rebecca continued to receive exceptional treatment for her bi-polar disorder and was doing very well. Her outlook was optimistic, and her behavior was level, so we worried less all the time. Jim's heart condition was in check, and the staff cardiologist kept constant watch on him to avoid any surprises.

Regina turned into the sexiest young woman on earth, and I couldn't keep my hands off of her. When it was just her for a weekend at the Residence, she went home exhausted, sore, and walking funny.

Colleen, Beth Ann, and Regina were wonderful mothers, and our children were an unending source of joy. Millie certainly loved her grandchildren, all three of them. Of course Colleen's son Carl was first in her heart, but Howard and Rose Ann were so close behind it was hard to tell a difference. We had three loved, wanted, and protected children that gave us unending happiness.

Life was good. After four years as Vice President, I felt like I finally got my arms around the job, and the job within the job. Charles needed me to be his back channel from time to time, and to deliver messages that he simply couldn't. Sometimes being president meant you had to bite your tongue and do what's right in the long run, instead of what's right, right now.

Charles had the biting his tongue thing down pat, and used me for the right now part, which meant I developed a reputation of being the bad-news guy. When I made an appointment with a department head or government executive, they almost always assumed the worst, and by the time I got to them, they were resigned to the idea of resigning. It made it easy to move out people who served at the President's pleasure.

Charles became the good-news guy, and when he made an appointment to see someone, they had rainbows and unicorns in mind. If he was not giving gifts, so to speak, they often felt slighted, and sometimes downright vengeful. Adoration was far too close to obsession, and obsessions turn to hatred very quickly.

 
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