Chapter 72: ... You Can’t Unring a Bell

“You didn’t think I was done with you yet, did you?”

I gawked at Mother in confusion, feeling utterly bewildered by her presence. But in the same way as when you wake up from a dream and only then start to realize that certain details were really strange, only then did I realize that we weren’t in the great room of the rented Mammoth Mountain house.

We were in someone else’s house.

The stairs I had just come down were unfamiliar. The furniture. The walls. The photographs on the walls. Naimh herself was the only thing I recognized, although I now realized that the photographs on the wall featured an older version of the most gorgeous thing I’d ever seen.

Naimh was still gorgeous - like supermodel gorgeous - with considerable curves shown off to perfection by clothes that flattered her figure. Her body was sculpted perfection, without an ounce of fat and yet not being overly muscled. She was particularly gorgeous on a tropical beach wearing some wispy nothing of a bikini. And she was even more gorgeous in a slinky white wedding dress with a long train and a sheer bridal veil.

Her husband in the photographs with her was tall and handsome, with a neatly cropped beard, nice cheekbones, and a strong jaw. Photos of their parents were hung on the walls alongside photos of the happy couple themselves. But as far as I could tell, there were no children.

The sofa was black leather and the coffee table was glass and black metal. The walls were bare concrete. The floating stairs were suspended with steel cables. The overall décor of the house was modern and monochromatic, where the most colorful thing was Naimh and her flaming copper-red hair wearing a bright yellow V-neck sweater and green skirt that showed off her long, lithe legs. And as I watched, that green skirt molded tight around her juicy buttcheeks when she crawled into her husband’s lap, wrapped her arms around the back of his neck, and she planted the kind of fiercely passionate kiss I could still vividly recall her giving to me.

I fought the urge to bend over and vomit all over the polished marble floor.

“You’re particularly frisky today,” the man muttered with a grin between kisses.

“I’m always frisky for you, luv,” Naimh drawled in reply to her husband, her massive diamond ring sparkling in the light. Fresh bile rose up my throat at the sound of my Squeakers saying the endearment ‘luv’ to some other man.

“Does my frisky redhead wanna feel my big dick skewering her ultratight asshole?” he growled with glittering eyes.

“If that’s what me luv really wants,” Naimh hedged, her eyes tightening in a way I recognized as her expression whenever caught between two urges. “Or...”

The man’s grin faded. “You know it’s not safe for that right now.”

“I know...”

“Then why would you suggest it?”

“You know why.”

“Neevie, dear...” The man’s grip on his wife’s ass relaxed, no longer holding her close against his pelvis. “We’ve talked about this.”

“I know we have.”

“Then why?” Suddenly angry, the man took hold of Naimh’s hips and roughly shoved her off his lap and onto the sofa cushion beside him. He stood up and walked away, shaking his head. “I thought we’d agreed.”

“We did, we did,” Naimh muttered, her head bowed and her expression placating. She was on the verge of tears, and I automatically started walking forward with every intention to wrap her up in a hug and reassure her that everything would be alright.

But Mother caught my arm and tugged me back. “You can’t interfere in this.”

I scowled at her but returned my attention to the couple in front of me.

“Are we or are we not on the same page about not having children just yet?” the man asked roughly.

“We are, we are,” Naimh replied with a familiar expression on her face.

“You are SO not on the same page,” I muttered. “That’s the classic Neevie look for ‘I’m agreeing with you because I don’t want to argue but deep down I really want the exact opposite’.”

But Naimh’s husband wasn’t looking at her. He was already shaking his head as he stared out through the patio sliding door and its expansive view of the ocean beyond. After taking a deep breath, he turned around to face her and stated, “Your doctor said you can start taking your birth control pills again in two weeks. I’m not entering your pussy until it’s safe to do so, not even with a condom, and that’s final. What were you thinking?”

“There’s no guarantee I’d get knocked up,” she muttered softly. She stood up and approached her husband, her expression pleading. “You could even pull out before you cum. I was just thinking...”

“Thinking what?”

“I was just thinking ... if it happened...” Naimh looked up, her emerald-green eyes shimmering with moisture. “Maybe it would be God telling us it’s meant to be.”

The man was shaking his head again. “Oh Neevie, Neevie, Neevie. Forever a dreamer. I love you for it, but some days you drive me crazy.”

“I know, Henry. I know,” she muttered dispiritedly. She wiped a tear from her eyes and hugged herself, bringing her arms in tight alongside her breasts, a move that squished the massive melons upwards and forward to create incredible cleavage in her V-neck. “I’m sorry, luv. I shouldna brought it up. But I’d still be happy to let you shove it in me ultratight arsehole.”

Henry shook his head, checked his watch, and then tapped it. “I’ve got a phone call I need to make anyways.”

Naimh nodded her understanding, but then blinked and gave him a saucy smile. “I could crawl under your desk and give you--”

“Neevie, please. I’m not angry with you. You don’t need to try and make it up to me with sex.” He shrugged. “I know how much you want kids, and I promise we will have them someday. I promise. Just not today. Alright?”

Naimh nodded. “Alright.”

Henry smiled one last time, stepped up to his wife, and leaned over to give her a quick peck. He then walked out of the living room, unexpectedly coming straight for me and Mother, and I instinctively tensed up in sudden panic. But just as before with the utility workers, the man passed straight through my intangible form as if I wasn’t even there. And I gasped while holding my chest as I turned around to watch him enter a home office by the foyer, go inside, and close the door behind him.

The sound of Naimh’s sob jerked my attention back around. My lonely Irish redhead stood in the middle of the living room with her head bowed and her hands clasped in front of her legs, her fingers intertwined together. She convulsed rather violently, too violently really for what had seemingly been a minor tiff. And I could see the strain in her muscles, shoulders, and jaw trying to hold in her pent-up emotions.

Her pain escaped in barely audible squeaks. She gritted her teeth together and outright refused to make any sounds louder than that. I wondered if she feared letting her husband catch her crying, letting him hear the kind of wracking gasps that hurt so much she might crack her ribs open.

Soundless shudders reflecting her broken heart.

Her legs suddenly gave out and she sat down hard, right there on the floor in the middle of the living room. I could see her fighting not to cry, not to let her husband hear her pain, but the tears were coming and she was absolutely helpless to stop them. Heavy drops poured down her cheeks while gusts of anguish wracked her chest in ragged, ugly sobs. She covered the top of her head with both arms as if the pain was a physical thing she could physically ward away, but to no avail.

I didn’t care that I was an intangible form unable to give Naimh any real comfort. I walked away from Mother, sat down on the floor, and wrapped my arms around my freckled redhead. And to my surprise, I found that I actually could.

I didn’t fall straight through the floor, of course, and could even feel the texture of the area rug beneath my ass. I supposed that made sense, given that the rug itself shouldn’t be any less tangible than the floor. Then again, how was it that I could feel Naimh’s body within my grasp? How was it that I could tuck her shoulder against my chest, reach around to stroke her arms, and lean in to plant a tender kiss to the upper side of her head.

“Oh, Matty...” she murmured softly, and I tensed up in utter shock. But she didn’t turn to look at me. She didn’t reach up to touch my arms or otherwise react to my embrace. I could feel her body pressed against mine, but I wasn’t sure if she could actually feel ME.

I shifted myself slightly, turning to put my face in front of hers. But Naimh didn’t react in any way, even though her eyes were open. I kept one arm around her back and rubbed her knee. Again, she didn’t react.

“I need to see you...” Naimh mumbled, the thumb of her right hand brushing up against the massive diamond on her left ring finger. But then she turned her left hand palm up, reached into her pocket with her right hand, and fished out the same kind of cell phone that Sam had used, the kind with a massive front screen instead of a keypad.

The screen came to life, featuring a neat array of icons in rows of four. Naimh tapped a green icon with what looked like a white dialogue bubble in the middle of it, bringing up a list of names alongside tiny circular photographs. And I was surprised to see that the third photo down was a picture of ME right next to the text “Matty” in bold lettering.

She tapped my name, and what looked like a text message screen came up, along with a digital keyboard occupying the lower third of the screen. I didn’t have time to scan the message history before Naimh started typing out: Hey. You busy?

M: Never too busy for you. What’s up?

N: Can I come over?

M: Something wrong?

N: The usual. I just need a hug.

M: I’d love to give you a hug, but I don’t think Henry would like it very much.

N: He knows we’re just friends now.

M: I know you’ve told him we’re just friends, but he still glared at me the last time we met.

N: Don’t worry about Henry. I need to see you. Please?

M: You already know I can never say no to you.

N: Great. See you soon.

Mother snapped her fingers, and the universe disappeared into infinite white.

“Matty ... Matty ... Matty...”

“Nngghh ... Nngghh ... Nngghh...”

“Matty ... Matty ... Matty...”

“Nngghh ... Nngghh ... Nngghh...”

“Oh, FUCK, Matty! I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna cum!”

“I’m gonna cum too! I’m gonna cum too!”

“Fuck me, Matty! Fuck me, Matty! Fuck me and fill me! Fill me! FILL MEEEEE!!!”

I had to blink several times, shake my head, rub my eyes with both hands, and then blink several times again before accepting the fact that I was seeing what I was seeing:

Me (well, an older version of me) fucking the supermodel version of Naimh.

It was surreal.

For whatever reason, I had quickly wrapped my head around the idea of being transported by my mother acting as my Guardian-Angel-slash-Ghost-of-Christmas into a vision of the future to witness firsthand how Sam and now Naimh were doing without me. But the idea of seeing an older version of myself was truly blowing my mind.

I was in a large bedroom decorated with warm colors and a mahogany four-poster bed with a white linen canopy and matching drapes. There were pictures on the walls and on the nightstand, but for some reason the images themselves were just a bit out of focus, blurred in a way that made it impossible for me to recognize anyone in them save myself.

FutureMe was naked and face-down in a missionary position over Naimh. FutureMe had a great ass, which was a really surreal thing to acknowledge given that I couldn’t think of the last time I’d seen my own ass completely naked. FutureMe was in pretty good shape, actually. I wouldn’t call myself in supermodel shape the way Naimh was, but I was relieved to see I hadn’t let myself go or anything like that.

I couldn’t see FutureMe’s face directly, nor did I particularly want to. I held some irrational fear that if our eyes met, the universe would implode or something. But I couldn’t help noticing that FutureMe had pinned SupermodelNaimh’s hands to the mattress to either side of her head, their fingers intertwined, and FutureMe wore a platinum wedding band on his left hand.

Naimh’s yellow V-neck and green skirt were on the floor next to the bed, leaving me no question that the scene I was witnessing was taking place on the same day. The stunning redhead’s long, lithe legs were wrapped high around her lover’s back as the man who was NOT her husband pounded her relentlessly with heaving, driving, thrusts. And from my present vantage point, the angle of thrusting made it clear that FutureMe was currently cramming every inch of his concrete-hard cock directly into Naimh’s clenching cunt.

Her apparently unprotected clenching cunt.

I glanced to my side at Mother. She didn’t look back at me, instead keeping her gaze locked onto the couple coupling on the bed as Naimh’s orgasm announced itself and the seasoned lovers wordlessly changed positions so that my doppelgänger could re-enter her from behind for the final stretch. Mother’s expression was a scowl of severe disappointment, the kind of expression I knew she’d give me if she ever found out I’d stuck my dick into an unprotected girl’s pussy. And I felt an unreasonable urge to defend myself in front of her.

It’s not like I’m actually sticking my dick into her right now.

But rather than say anything so patently ridiculous, I took a step away from her and moved closer to the bed, feeling drawn by the look of reckless exhilaration in Naimh’s eyes. The other me continued rutting away, oblivious to the life-altering melodrama as he focused on the simple task of giving a woman pleasure before finding his own release.

Naimh seemed to recognize just how close her lover was to ejaculation, and that knowledge excited and terrified her like nothing else. It all played out in front of me. Naimh was no fool and neither, I gathered, was Henry. There would be no way to explain this away as an accident. He’d firmly shut the door on any plausible deniability.

A hitch caught her breath as the point-of-no-return rushed forward. A moment of clarity seized her, and she pushed herself up and turned back to FutureMe with what I believed was a shouted, “Stop!” in her throat, only to be met with a passionate liplock from FutureMe that sent all reason scrambling for purchase. The disengagement she’d begun only reversed as she pulled him into her, back in the missionary position I’d found them in. There was no guarantee anything would come of tonight, but if it did perhaps it was God’s way of telling her it was meant to be. And so she cast the die on her future, her marriage, and for all I knew... my marriage.

She had always been the most gorgeous thing I’d ever seen, and so still remained even after the passage of some unknown number of years. My freckled redhead’s face was exquisite, her emerald-green eyes glittered, and as she invited the tempest of destiny to seize hold of her future and hurl it as it will, her beaming smile full of pearly white teeth absolutely lit up the room.

“I LOVE YOU MATTY! CUM IN ME!” she screamed with limitless joy. “FILL ME! FILL ME! FFFIIIILLLLLL MMMEEE!!!”

“UNGH! UNGH! UUUNNNGGGHHH!!!”

FutureMe slammed forward one final time, grunting with obvious orgasmic relief as he evidently unloaded a massive barrage of millions of sperm straight into the back of Naimh’s potentially fertile womb. She screamed. He (I?) screamed. And together the two adulterous lovers thrashed and moaned and shivered in their sinfully degenerate lust.

And then they both collapsed.

I felt like I could literally see steam rising from FutureMe’s sweaty back. Naimh kept her legs crossed behind his lower back with her arms likewise locked behind his neck. The pair remained like that for several minutes, panting for oxygen and nuzzling each other with their noses. Once, FutureMe made to move off of her, but she clutched him close as if she didn’t want to let go. And she remained in that turtle-on-her-back position for a long while as if waiting for gravity to ensure that every single droplet of semen had plenty of time to complete its journey up her fallopian tubes.

Finally, though, Naimh relaxed her grip and released her legs. FutureMe gave her a quick peck on the lips and then groaned as he rolled off of her and onto his back on the other side of her. I didn’t get a clear look at his face, my gaze instantly drawn to the glorious nudity of SupermodelNaimh.

Her big breasts stood up tall and firm, sagging only slightly while flat on her back. Her abs were tight and fit. Her legs were silky smooth. Her red-tufted loins glistened from more than just the sweat that covered her entire body in a fine sheen. And of course, the freckled redhead’s face was beauty personified.

The most gorgeous thing I’d ever seen.

Rubbing her belly as if she could already feel the spark of life growing within.

A spark that was half hers.

And half mine.

Mother snapped her fingers, and the universe disappeared into infinite white.

I reappeared in the master bedroom of the rented Mammoth Mountain house.

I also appeared some twenty-two inches above the floor, and I let out an awkward yelp of surprise as I dropped like a rock and abruptly landed on both feet. But I was getting used to this particular surprise, and I managed to not fall flat on my face, merely squatting down a bit with my arms out to the sides before finding my balance and standing up straight. And then I shot Mother a harsh look.

“Is that really necessary?”

“A guardian angel’s job is not merely protection, but also education, and you’ve already learned how to not fall flat on your face.”

“I refuse to believe you’re my guardian angel. And if Heaven ends up emailing me a survey when we’re done, you are most certainly NOT going to get your wings.”

Mother rolled her eyes, and all of a sudden a pair of massive white wings sprouted from behind her back: fluffy and feathered and massive akin to a Renaissance-era painting of a Greek deity. She flapped once, lifting her cruel angelic form six feet off the ground into what was suddenly a cathedral ceiling, sending a powerful gust of wind that quite literally knocked me on my ass. And then she glided forward to loom large and menacingly over me with a decidedly wicked grin.

“Now why would you ever think Heaven would send you a survey about me by email?”

“You told me not to think too hard about it!” I squawked defensively.

Mother sighed and shook her head as she returned to earth, her wings dissolving into nothing save a few stray feathers that littered the ground around her. She beckoned me to stand up with two disinterested fingers, and I scowled while rather gingerly getting to my feet.

“Moving on: You told me before that Sam and I broke up, and the scenes I’d witnessed were the result.” I gestured vaguely behind myself, as if I could physically point back to the scenes I had now just witnessed concerning Naimh. “What happened between me and Neevie? How did we break up?”

“You assume you broke up. Did we or did we not just witness you and the most gorgeous thing you’d ever seen acting on the white-hot chemistry you’d always shared with each other?”

“I also saw Neevie with her husband and saw her wedding photos. Does he know his wife is banging FutureMe on the side? Am I party to marital infidelity? Shit, I saw that FutureMe has a wedding band of his own. Am -I- cheating on my wife?”

“You are simply doing what you’ve always promised: to be whatever the girl needs you to be. It’s been your life’s purpose, your modus operandi, your default reaction to any given situation,” she muttered with a weary sigh.

“Do I detect a note of disdain for my so-called ‘default reaction to any given situation’?”

Mother silently rolled her eyes rather than deign to give me a verbal response.

“If you think that little eye-roll is going to get me to react defensively to my modus operandi, it won’t. I take pride in supporting the loved ones in my life. I DO feel a sense of purpose in being whatever the girls need me to be. Bringing them joy gives ME joy. Making them happy makes ME happy. And I won’t apologize for it.”

“No matter the consequences?”

I blinked and thought back on what I’d just seen. “You mean a consequence like FutureMe filling Neevie’s unprotected womb with your out-of-wedlock grandchild when her husband refused to do so?”

“Yes, that would be one unfortunate consequence.”

“A possible consequence.” I hedged. “There’s no guarantee she’d get knocked up.”

“You can’t unring a bell, Matthew.”

Mother’s tone was severe, and I understood with absolute certainty that in this vision of the future, Naimh DID get knocked up. I found myself conflicted, partly recoiling from the knowledge that this would destroy Naimh’s marriage, but partly rejoicing at the idea of my Squeakers and I creating new life together.

I pursed my lips and shook my head. “You didn’t show me what happened between Neevie texting me and then us having sex. You didn’t show me whatever conversation took place between the two events.”

“Does it really matter?”

“Of course it matters.” I shook my head again. “I saw the texts expressing concern that Henry didn’t like FutureMe and that Neevie told him we were just friends. There’s no way I would want Neevie to cheat on her husband. There’s certainly no way I would knowingly inseminate her without birth control.”

“Because you have such a good track record of asking your partners if they’re on birth control prior to inseminating them?” Mother’s scowl of severe disappointment was back. “You should already know the conversation that took place. Naimh came to your house begging you to make her feel better. You stated that you didn’t want to be party to marital infidelity. But Naimh insisted, and you succumbed to her advances. As usual.”