Second Chance Too
Copyright© 2022 by Number 7
Prologue
Time Travel Sex Story: Prologue - The saga of Carl continues. In Second Chance Too he finds himself in a new place, with a new body, and another set of challenges. Along the way he finds love, tragedy, pain and loss. Some days his friends are enemies and his enemies are legion.
Caution: This Time Travel Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa DoOver Incest InLaws
The dream came, just like it always did, with no warning, no sensation of losing touch with reality. I felt myself fall asleep on my hard, narrow, cot, in the tiny, top-of-the-stairs, unused and unheated closet.
Just as reality faded, the images appeared. I was in some grand villa, beside the ocean. All around me were the trappings of wealth and privilege. My clothes were immaculate, even though the image looking back at me from the expensive leaded glass mirror wasn’t me.
At least the man I saw in the mirror wasn’t the me in the here and now.
My first impression was that I was at a house party being held in a beautiful mansion, full of ‘beautiful people.’ As the setting and I became more acquainted, it became obvious that the me I was in my dream ‘belonged’ in this place. The people spoke to me with genuine warmth and caring, as if we were family.
My attention was drawn to a tall, slender woman, with auburn hair and a fierceness about her that could have been off-putting, except that her strength and brittle veneer was not directed at me.
This woman loved me ... Whoever I was.
The mansion sat beside a lake, high on a hill, with nothing between the house and the water. Far off I could see boats racing about with water skiers, tubers, houseboats, and a gigantic paddle wheeler that puffed thru the water on her way ... somewhere.
The dream was nothing new to me. The setting and people seemed familiar if only for how often I dreamed of them. There was a genuine warmth and kindness about these strangers that made the dream so much better than my real life, that I wished to never wake up.
The hardness of the bed and a stray siren in the distance, intruded on my sleep just as the dream was getting good. My parents had never really concerned themselves with my health, welfare, or safety, so living in a cold, unheated bedroom all winter, that turned boiling hot in the summer, was surely good enough for a son they never wanted. A mere instant before the dream companion to the man-in-the-mirror would have come into view, sleep fled, and reality seeped back in.
At eighteen, I was old enough to deal with nightmares, but the one I was consistently having was deeply confusing. The dream had me living in other bodies, doing things absurdly foreign to me. There were women desperate for my body, people trying (literally dying) to kill me, and all sorts of things that titillate a young man’s thoughts.
At times I flew planes, piloted boats, made love to exotic women, engaged in shootouts, and conceived children. Some nights I occupied important offices, ordered about thousands of people, and spent fortunes. It was exciting and exhausting at the same time.
When I woke after yet another night held captive by the strange memories, I hurried out of bed and off to work. With my new job I was hoping and praying that I could move out and leave my dysfunctional family behind.
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