Getting It Right
Copyright© 2025 by G Younger
Chapter 2
Coming of Age Sex Story: Chapter 2 - This is the second book in the Wrinkle in Time Trilogy. It is a stand-alone book with an all-new cast that embraces getting a second chance, a do-over. Fortunately, this time, Xander had a cheat: life experience. I’d become the old man who no longer gave a fuck about others’ opinions. The problem was that by the time I learned this, I died … or so I thought. I found myself thrown back in time to do it all over again. Could I get it right this time?
Caution: This Coming of Age Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Coercion Consensual Reluctant Fiction Humor School DoOver Sharing Gang Bang Group Sex First Facial Oral Sex Slow Violence
When he got home, the first thing Xander did was mow the lawn. He cut the grass, used the weed whacker to clean things up and edged, and then got out the leaf blower and cleaned up all the hard surfaces. He made sure to be finished before his dad got home.
By the time he wrapped up and put the equipment away, Xander was a worn-out, sweaty mess, and a little worried about being in such poor shape. He showered, changed, and headed downstairs for dinner.
His parents asked him and his sister about their first day at school. Izzy excitedly spent three-quarters of the meal regaling them with everything that had happened to her. Finally, his mom put a stop to the stories.
“Let’s give your brother a chance. What about your day?”
She’d caught Xander with his mouth full, so he quickly finished chewing before filling them in.
“Fine.”
“Nothing out of the ordinary?” Mom prodded.
“Nope, just your typical first day. I got my books, and we sat around and did a bunch of nothing,” Xander said, vastly expanding on his day’s details.
“What about the girl you sat with on the bus?” Izzy asked, sticking her nose in and stirring things up.
“I sat next to Karen. I think I surprised her with that.”
’She might be an actual Karen,’ he thought, but left unsaid.
“Not her, your new girlfriend.”
Xander realized the error of his ways. He should’ve offed his little sister much sooner because her questions piqued his parents’ interest.
“Do we need to have the talk?” his dad asked.
“Anything but that,” Xander mumbled.
“What was that?” his dad asked, suddenly getting pissed.
“Izzy misspoke; I’m not dating anyone. I’m much too young and unsure how a talk would help me. For that matter, I’m not even sure why I would want a girlfriend,” Xander rambled.
His dad looked at his mom, who shrugged in response.
“Who was your new friend on the bus?” Xander asked Izzy to distract his little sister.
“Oh, that was...” Izzy said and took off on another tangent.
His dad glared at Xander. Xander suspected that wasn’t the last he would hear about ‘the talk.’
Safely in his room, Xander set about getting organized. In his previous life, he’d run large projects, and that mode kicked in. He needed to take stock of what he had to work with, but before that, he had to clean his room.
In his younger years, Xander had thrived on chaos, but now he realized he’d let it go too far. The question was whether, if asked, he could find anything in this mess. Was it fair to call it organized chaos? Maybe not.
They’d only lived there for a few weeks, and he already had piles of clothes on the floor and stuff strewn everywhere. Xander’s old self was embarrassed by the mess he faced. For once, Xander thought his older self was completely correct: he couldn’t live in a pigsty of a room.
Their mom kept a laundry basket in the bathroom, and if Izzy or Xander wanted her to do their laundry, it had to go there. As he filled it, he’d put the clothes he’d worn to mow the lawn on top, and they stank. He couldn’t stand the stench, so he hauled the basket downstairs and put a load in the washing machine.
Then he ran back upstairs and refilled the basket. When he came down, he found his mom in the laundry room with the washer lid open, looking confused.
“What’s wrong?” Xander asked.
“Did your father put his load in?”
That made Xander realize that the first time around, he’d never done a load of laundry until he went to college. He’d learned a valuable lesson when all his whites turned pink.
“No, I did it,” Xander said.
She quickly shut off the washing machine.
“Did you sort the clothes?” Mom asked.
“I read the instructions on the bottle,” Xander said, pointing at the detergent.
She grabbed it, and thankfully, it gave basic instructions. He’d told a little white lie, hoping it would get him off the hook because he was supposed to have no idea how to do his laundry.
His mom didn’t believe he knew what he was doing, so she pulled out his first load and dumped it into the laundry sink. She made about a buck and a quarter by emptying his pockets, something he automatically did as an adult. She also found candy wrappers and a pack of gum.
It made him realize that was how his mom had figured out he’d had sex his junior year: it must have been the condom wrapper he’d stuffed into his jeans. He’d been a complete dumbass his first time through.
“Sorry, Mom. I should have come and got you, but I didn’t want to burden you with doing all this,” Xander said.
His mom gave him a curious look but didn’t say anything.
“Just bring it all down, and I’ll do it,” Mom said.
“If you show me, I can help,” Xander said.
His mom showed him the basics but made him promise to come get her when he started the next load so she could supervise.
Once he’d picked up all the junk from his bedroom floor, Xander swept and mopped. He was a bit grossed out when he found a bunch of crusty tissues stuffed between the wall and his bed. Mother Nature had worked her magic, and Xander had learned the joys of self-pleasure.
Seeing that made him strip his bed because he was sure it needed it.
After he remade his bed with fresh sheets, Xander wiped down all the surfaces. Once he finished, he gazed around his bedroom; Xander doubted the room had ever been that clean from the time they moved in until he left for college.
He then pulled out a pad of paper to start a list. First, he had no money to speak of that he could call his own, except for the change in his piggy bank. That limited his possibilities. A good project manager always secures the funds needed before almost anything else. He wrote on his list: ‘Earn Money.’
Then Xander stripped down and stood naked in front of his bedroom mirror so he could make an honest assessment of his body. He saw a scrawny, thirteen-year-old boy, five feet four inches tall and 108 pounds.
Xander remembered he’d grown six inches during the last year of middle school, making him five-ten when he started his freshman year of high school. But he was disappointed that he still weighed only about 110 pounds then. He’d been the definition of a string bean.
Xander looked down and observed a couple of stray wisps of hair coming in; apparently, he hadn’t yet fully developed down there. He realized his equipment would mature along with his growth spurt, so he didn’t worry about its current state. Besides, based on the tissues, everything seemed to be in working order.
During high school, Xander played football and started on the varsity squad in his junior year—one of only four juniors to do that. So he expected he would quickly add muscle to his frame during his freshman and sophomore years.
He’d enjoyed working out in high school. Still, if his performance mowing the lawn was any indication, Xander should start some kind of exercise program. If for no other reason than not to be a skinny freshman who might get blown over in a strong wind. He added ‘Work Out’ to his list.
Xander dressed, pulled out all his textbooks, and skimmed through them, confirming the old saying that you’d never use most of the stuff. His old self had to scratch his head at the majority of it. He’d obviously learned it well enough to pass, but sixty years into the future, much of it made no sense. At least now, Xander recognized what it would take to survive in college. He needed to establish good habits before he wasted all those years, as he’d done in his past life. He added ‘Study’ to his list.
The last item on the list was the most obvious. It was why Xander wished to relive his life, to be more confident, and not to be his own worst enemy. He wrote ‘Face My Fears’ on his list.
For now, that seemed like enough to keep him busy. Xander realized his list was only a starting point, and he would add to it over time.
He trotted downstairs to put the next load in and saw his mom had already done it. Xander made another pile consisting of his sheets and stray towels he’d found. He then strolled into the den to watch TV with his parents. Xander wanted to be sure he would be the one to put the sheets into the washing machine. His mom probably recognized the mystery stains, but no one else should have to deal with that.
Once his laundry was done, his mom helped him bring it all upstairs. When she walked into his room, she stopped.
“What happened in here?”
Xander expected she was probably shocked to see the floor.
“Like I said, I’m making changes. I hope it’s okay.”
“Yes, it’s okay. I had just stopped fighting with you about cleaning your room. I never imagined I’d see the day it looked like this.”
“It won’t always be this clean, but I’m tired of living in a mess,” Xander said.
“I’m not going to make a big deal out of this,” Mom said, sounding more like she was talking to herself than to Xander. “I’ll only say I approve.”
“Thanks. And thanks for your help with my laundry. Next, I might even make dinner.”
His mom was funny. She clutched her chest like someone having a heart attack.
“When I see it, I’ll believe it,” she said with a wink.
He knew she’d never allow him to cook without her supervision. Something he admired about his mom was that she was a hard worker. Her father was also a contractor, and she came from a family of four kids, including an older sister, a younger one, and a brother, the youngest. As a girl, Mom was the family’s tomboy and her daddy’s little helper.
His mom had actually painted the inside of their house, another example of his dad being cheap.
The only problem was that Mom didn’t respect boundaries. During high school, a rumor started that the girl Xander had recently broken up with was pregnant. She’d dumped Xander to date her ex, who was a couple of years older. Ultimately, she had the baby, and the two of them got married.
Xander’s mother showed up at the girl’s family’s front door and wanted to discuss Xander’s responsibilities in the matter. Thankfully, he hadn’t been part of the conversation. However, he still shuddered at the audacity of his mother doing that.
They said their good-nights.
Xander put away his laundry. It took longer than expected because his teen self had simply shoved stuff into the dresser. He pulled everything out and put it back into drawers that made sense: e.g., socks together and t-shirts in their own drawer.
While he was at it, he sorted out all the stuff he would never wear, had outgrown, or had worn out. Xander would give it all to his mom to donate. He imagined his poor sister would be a recipient of some of his castoffs. His mom had to be careful about what she spent money on because she didn’t want to face his father’s wrath.
The next day, on the school bus, Brian, the perv, made a little leer and patted the empty seat next to him when Izzy got on. Xander nudged her past him and took the seat.
“Why’d you do that?” Brian complained.
“I know you get hard for little girls, but she’s my sister. If you do anything, and I mean anything to her, I’ll chop your dick off and feed it to you,” Xander said calmly.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. I was just trying to be friendly,” Brian whined.
“Can it. Everyone has warned me about what a weird fuck you are. Just remember what I said,” Xander said, then got up and walked back to sit next to Karen.
Yep, it was a total fabrication, but Brian had no idea whether people talked about him. Xander knew most high school boys had confidence issues, and hearing that others thought you were a ‘weird fuck’ would be a tad unsettling.
Xander figured one of two things would happen soon. One was that Brian would cave and leave Izzy alone, which Xander suspected would be the case. If Brian really was a pedophile, there were plenty of innocent girls who didn’t have a threatening older brother.
The second scenario would involve a confrontation. Brian assumed that because he was older and bigger, he could kick the shit out of Xander. While that might be true of his old self, Xander had ‘old man’ knowledge. Not that he claimed to be some kind of secret ninja; far from it. It was just that old men didn’t fight fair, and they fought for keeps.
Most school fights between boys like Brian and Xander devolved into posturing, shoving, and the like. An old man knew he had zero stamina and, in a real fight, would get annihilated. An old man’s only option was to strike first and end it as soon as possible. Brian would learn his lesson, even if he outweighed Xander by at least fifty pounds and was two years older.
Brian must have glared at Xander as he walked back because Karen asked, “What’s Brian’s problem?”
Xander sighed. It looked like there would be a fight, so he decided to head that off.
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