Second Chance
Chapter 9

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

DoOver Sci-fi Sex Story: Chapter 9 - 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  

As I predicted, Donna disappeared moments after waking in my arms. She had rested for thirty minutes on top of me, snuggled deep into my chest, leaking the evidence of our encounter all over me. When she awakened she gave me a sweet, embarrassed smile and let me hold and kiss her until nature called and she ran for the bathroom. By the time she came out, it was clear that she wanted her cousin and a return to normalcy following her adventure.

After her hasty exit, I showered, shaved, and cleaned up before facing the four ladies who were – no doubt – waiting right then for a detailed report. Cassandra intercepted me as I came down the stairs, leading me out to the side porch where Janet and Andrea waited. There were snacks, cold tea, and three very curious ladies wanting my side of the story.

Cassandra led off. “Soooo ... Let’s hear it, buster. How did it go? Did Donna have any trouble? Was she scared? Come on. Give it up. We’ve heard her side of things, but all she really wanted was to run off with Lilly and have privacy to spill her guts. We need details. So give them up.”

My smile was patient and they knew from it that I would talk with them about some of what we did together, but I would be circumspect with Donna’s privacy. Cassandra sort of growled in frustration and then relaxed to see how much I would give them.

“Donna was ... wonderful,” I began. “She handled herself like a young women with poise and dignity. There is no way I will cheapen what we had with loose talk. “What did she really say?” I asked, turning the tables back on them.

Janet spoke immediately.

“She came down completely stunned! She tried to tell us how it felt to make love for the first time but dissolved into tears, saying, ‘It was amazing ... It was amazing ... It was amazing... ‘ We knew that. Sex with you is nothing short of amazing, but we’re women! We want to know the dirty details. We NEED to have the details ... Don’t you see that?”

We sparred for a long time but I refused to give up the goods. Eventually Cassandra decided to try and wring it out of me in bed, but that failed to provide the necessary information, so the three of them locked themselves up behind with Donna closed doors until she surrendered. Which she did ... and apparently gleefully, because I was congratulated, kissed, fondled and petted for hours afterwards.

Lilly was another matter entirely. Her body was more zaftig than baby fat. She was more curvy than round and her scent drove me to distraction long before her tightness drove me over the edge.

We were thrust together behind the locked bedroom doors of a here-to-fore unvisited suite in the third floor. Lilly was more aggressive but less of an exhibitionist, a paradox I loved dearly. She WANTED me but hesitated showing herself to my hungry eyes. A thousand kisses later, she let me lower the straps of her nightgown, exposing her perfect skin, up thrust breasts, and succulent nipples.

They pouted.

Her perfectly perfect nipples seemed to pout awaiting my lips. When I touched the tip of my tongue to the tip of her rubbery caps, she sucked in a deep breath, shivered in combined arousal and fear, and urged me forward with anxious arms. For over an hour I brought her repeatedly to her crisis and when she crested, Lilly screamed so loud that the door flew open and her mother, aunt, and grandmother tumbled in certain to find a dead or dying daughter.

Instead of on-setting rigor they came upon an adolescent girl squirming, squirting, and screaming out in ecstasy. We were locked together, pelvis to pelvis. Lilly was slamming herself up to meet my thrusts, pounding my back with her fists, demanding more, deeper, faster, and harder. Cassandra turned away first, followed by her mother and sister. In silent agreement, the three women quickly escaped, giving Lilly her privacy as she transitioned from girl to women, with all the accoutrements.

Once begin, Lilly tumbled from climax to climax like some kind of machine, and when I capitulated to the inevitable, she screamed even louder, feeling my essence finally pouring into the one place she needed it most. As I came, I felt her barrier breech and the bulk of my semen rushed beyond her cervix into her womb.

Eventually we ran down. Our thrusting became twitching and our urgency shifted towards sleepiness. Once filled, Lilly seemed to draw away from me and into herself. I knew something important had changed but didn’t grasp how that would change the rest of my life. Had I understood I would have savored the moment for much longer, holding on to the magic we shared.

The feeling of accomplishment that coursed through me was epic. I loved being able to take a woman to someplace that special. In those few moments of silence after our completion I knew I could do this for a long, long time.

But it was gone. The long, long time was here, and then we could never recapture the magic. In the instant between heartbeats Lilly needed privacy from me, even if she couldn’t explain it. Defeated but not knowing how completely, I slipped from our messy bed and gave her back her privacy. Cassandra, Andrea, and Janet politely avoided me for the rest of the day.

Over the next six months I became little more than a stud horse. My job was to keep infusing the five women with my special essence and keep out of their way otherwise. It was almost as if I became an embarrassment once I’d given them my essence. I’d been rejected before and recognized the symptoms but this was far more and more deliberate. To avoid the discomfort and avoid saying or doing the wrong thing, I found things to do to keep my distance. The realization that things had irrevocably changed was as sudden as it was inevitable.

I spent considerable time with Andrea’s security contractors. They drilled me unmercifully with handguns and long guns, in hand-to-hand combat and in threat detection and avoidance. The people set up innumerable circumstances with lots of variables and trained me to see trouble coming, set up on the spot defense, and take down whatever we found ourselves up against.

Penny was my constant companion. We bonded as I was trained – retrained sort of -- as a lethal protective weapon for Andrea and the ladies. Even if they felt a certain embarrassment about what I did for them behind bedroom doors, my other skills might become truly helpful when it most counted.

It counted most on the first Thursday of October when we were all riding into the city to attend a concert at Reunion Arena. Two identical black SUVs suddenly bracketed our limousine and gunshots came from both at once. Our driver swerved hard into the vehicle on our left, while the front seat bodyguard tried to fire at the one on the right.

His head was blown apart by a shotgun blast before he got off a single shot.

Seeing this could lead to our certain demise, I grabbed the gun out of the dead guard’s hand and fired sixteen shots into the attackers, killing two, taking one more out of the play, and causing their vehicle to hit the guardrails and flip over and over and over. Coming to rest upside down and burning in the middle of the highway.

Having an empty gun was not going to help, and just as I began to look around for another clip, the driver handed me his gun and said, “Hit the ones on our left as hard as you can, and when you do I’ll slam this boat into their side.” Not having any better ideas, I shifted, shoved Andrea out of my way, and started firing into the open windows of the SUV beside us.

That didn’t completely please our attackers, and they paused to shift their aim, giving our driver plenty of time to ram them so hard that the vehicle went airborne and hit the side of a tractor trailer in the far left lane. The resulting damage took them forever out of the attack. Whoever sent them wouldn’t be getting any return on that investment.

We raced for home with a caravan of police escorting us. Once inside the compound, Andrea and our driver disappeared with the ranking police officers for debriefing. Andrea’s lawyers showed up very soon after along with some very federal looking gentlemen in expensive suits. They were behind closed doors for several hours before Penny came to get me. “Mrs. Waters needs you,” was all she said and I followed her into Andrea’s study.

Andrea was on the phone with someone very important based on the way she was speaking. Craig, the senior partner at the starched shirt firm who handled her legal issues was on another phone speaking very softly, obviously giving orders, and I was greeted by Sheriff Jim Bowles a cop of almost mythical proportions. Sheriff Bowles was personally overseeing the investigation of the attack, along with a representative of the FBI who introduced himself as Special Agent In Charge Rodney Pace.

They paused to ask me about my role in the action and made certain to inform me that I was not suspect in any way, but they hoped I could add some details that might help untangle the events, identity of the perpetrators, and who sent them. The next four hours were an ordeal, as the FBI wanted every possible shred of information we could offer to help them discover Andrea’s enemies.

We were finally released from the torture of questioning and heard nothing for a couple of weeks. One afternoon, two very well dressed federal agents met with Andrea, and she seemed to close in on herself after they left. Eventually some new bodyguards showed up and a few weeks later things seemed to settle down. Andrea was not a good enemy, and I had no doubt her attackers found that out the hard way.

One hot Friday night, my bedroom door opened and Penny came in shedding her nightgown. I didn’t give her time to try out the approach she certainly had prepared in advance. When I saw her body emerging from her sleepwear, I leaped from the bed and lovingly took her to the same moon that Andrea so often talked about.

Penny was athletic, with a body built for endurance. We made love aggressively for several hours, eventually crashing into sleep sometime just before dawn. I needed to perform for the five ladies beginning in a couple of hours and worried about being unable to perform but Penny solved that for me when she said, “Mrs. Waters took the family to Galveston for the weekend to do some shopping. She told me to, and I quote, ‘Make sure Carl is entertained while we are away.’ I hope you feel entertained,” she said diving under the covers to see if there was any more life in the old boy. Not having the daily cum-five-times–in-seven-hours was such a relief that the little soldier snapped to attention and gave Penny hours of in depth attention.

Finding out from Penny that the girls went away on a little trip helped solidify the truth that I didn’t belong in the Waters mansion anymore; any more than I belonged in Texas for that matter. Losing our closeness wasn’t tragic. It was something I could embrace, as it would allow me to move on and carve out my own life, without the burden of their desires, needs, and expectations. I knew that if I handled things right I could be free to go and do whatever I needed to go and do. It was obvious that the Universe used me - again - and then threw me away - again.

Fine.

The whole world waited out beyond those magnificent gates for me to grab on and take it. So I would.

It took three interminable days after their ‘shopping’ trip for Andrea and Cassandra to breech the subject. “Carl...” Andrea began but lost her way immediately.

Cassandra took over. “I don’t really know how to say this ... but ... Jane says that the five of us have basically recovered from the sickness. Our bodies are manufacturing the thing we needed so badly ... now that you got us started...

“The thing is...”

She ran down right there, and I let her off the hook. I could see the reluctance to give me the bad news in her eyes and wanted to ease the discomfort and get going. “I can see it in your faces. You are sort of embarrassed and ashamed of what we had to do to get you to this point. I’ve become a reminder of the ugliness of your illnesses and the ungracious things you had to do to survive. It’s Ok. I know you don’t want me around because it makes you feel ... I don’t know ... let’s take a shot at it. I make you feel a little cheap? A bit sleazy?? Just a little too common?

 
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