Chapter 2

The heavens and the earth must have merged into a surreal union that strange evening in 1992. An odd cosmic coitus drew nineteen-year-old Twila Mae and her two identical male companions of nearly the same age, one of whom she had only learned moments ago was named Eric Jay. The other must have been his twin brother, she thought, her cunt suddenly aching for them both. The cousins supposedly of her boyfriend John Tallin. The doppelgangers’ crotches revealed bulges under their clothing. One of them in pajamas, the other in his summer shorts.

Twila Mae again felt the incredible surge of supernatural electricity course through her bones and flesh as the alien lightning flashed again and again above the open green meadow. Arousal gripped her breasts and clitoris under her white dress. The sky embraced her soul, and she held it in her body as a chalice would keep a sacred wine.

This surreal moment was not a dream, however, as she watched the two young identical men become captivated by her natural beauty—the smooth tan skin, the pleasant curve of her womanhood, the full bronze hair, the red fingernails and toenails, and the bright blue eyes. She had wanted to fuck her boyfriend John Tallin, but he never showed up that evening.

The doppelgangers, too, must have sensed the incredible white rush of bright, the rapid power from the odd lightning storm that evening. She could never forget their faces and the looks of desire for her that they soon betrayed. But she did not yet know that they comprehended something more profound, that she was their future mother, that they somehow had been transported mysteriously into the past. Unbeknownst to her, both time travelers were also her son from the future at different times. But a glimmer of knowledge from a strange dream began to swell up deep from within her.

The two Eric Jays from the future realized in the fog of the moment that Fate intended quite something else for them this day, a sexual encounter at the nexus of life and death, between existence and the void. One of them would father themselves–himself really. Just as they had planted seeds in their mother’s garden in the future, here in the past they would spill their human seed in her fertile womb, their mother. No, they would flood her hungry womb like the hot silt of the River Nile along its banks. Her sons teaming up on her, ready to father themselves–himself.

Twila Mae paused, then sitting down on the blanket, welcomed them both to her. She stared at them both, her lips slightly parted in anticipation for the sexual storm to follow. They were all in a euphoric haze as the light played with night and day and their bodies, minds and souls.

The increasingly horny doppelgangers looked at one another, initially mistrusting what they saw, eerie identical reflections of themselves, but when their eyes turned to her, they put aside their differences and followed what they had in common—the young redhead in the field, their soon-to-be mother whom they would fuck this evening in the field by the coulee.

“No sense in telling her,” the Eric Jay in the summer shorts said to the one in the pajamas.

“Telling me what?” she asked.