Flights of Consciousness Book III: Charitable Good Deeds
Chapter 1

Copyright© 2006 by Paul Phenomenon

Science Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 1 - David changes his business paradigm, which increases his income and frees up time for a new hobby: charitable good deeds. The adage, "No good deed goes unpunished," applies. Takes place a few years after Book II ends.

Caution: This Science Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Ma/ft   Fa/Fa   Consensual   Romantic   BiSexual   Heterosexual   Science Fiction   Time Travel   Extra Sensory Perception   Incest   Mother   Son   Brother   Sister   Father   Daughter   Group Sex   Anal Sex   Masturbation   Slow  

David red-shifted and accelerating into Joe's past, connecting with his father-in-law when the man was a lad in his early teens. He was with an American Indian. They stood in a field of green grasses surrounded by cedar and pine trees among a small herd of horses. Were they wild? Mustangs? David had no way of knowing. Nora had told him that an old Ute Indian had taught her father how to talk horse. Was David witnessing a language lesson?

He blue-shifted and decelerated into the future, but not far enough to reach Joe's present. He smiled when he saw Joe with his daughter. She was naked and sat astraddle his lap. With natural turns of her wrist, Nora stroked her father's erection, and from their conversation, David realized he was witnessing the first time that they'd had sex. He calibrated the time for a return visit when he could enjoy the event at his leisure, and then blue-shifted once again, this time landing at Arabian Downs, the family's horse farm. Joe was working Su Shafara, Nora's Arabian mare. Nora and Carol watched from the top rail of the corral. In the background, David could see construction activity on the big house.

Before the weddings, David thought. I'm still in the past. Can I hit the wedding day?

Yes!

He was pleased because he'd selected a date in the past and moved his consciousness to observe Joe on that date, a first for him. He watched for a while, feeling nostalgic because Nora-girl had also become his wife on that day. She looked like a gossamer dream in her white wedding dress.

At least, I'm getting used to seeing myself in the past and future, he reflected. He'd also learned that his consciousness couldn't interact with anyone in the future if he also was present in the flesh. Every time he'd tried, he returned immediately to his body in the present. He could observe himself, but could not make his consciousness known, which didn't bother him. Seeing himself outside his present made him feel a little schizophrenic, anyway.

David shifted ahead on Joe's timeline moving beyond the present into the future. He groaned. Too, far. It was afternoon. Could he move back to the early morning hours? He red-shifted. Bingo!

David looked over Joe's shoulder as Joe held a Wall Street Journal in his hands. He searched for and found the date for the newspaper: three days in the future from the present.

"Good morning, Joe," David said, which made his father-in-law jump.

"Mornin'," Joe said. "You'd think I'd learn not to be so surprised when, out of the blue, I suddenly hear your voice, but..." He shrugged. "You did it, eh?"

"Yep, except I'm off two days. It's Friday, not Wednesday." Wednesday was tomorrow as related to David and Joe's today. The trip was an experiment to determine if he could hit a specific day and time in the future. He'd failed.

Not really, he thought with a ghostly grin. I can shift back and forth until I find Joe on Wednesday morning.

"Will I remember this?" Joe asked.

"Not until it happens Friday when it becomes a memory," David said. "Were you actually reading the Journal?"

"I was, an article about oil prices and how the price is tied to the unrest in the Middle East, which to my mind is only part of the problem. The oil companies aren't above gouging, either."

David groaned silently. Nora-girl had been trying to get him involved in the War on Terror, but he'd resisted. Putting on tights with a big red S on his chest gave him heartburn.

"Thanks for helping with the experiment, Joe," David said. "I'll shift back to Wednesday, if I can. Bye."

Split seconds later, David greeted Joe on Wednesday morning. As planned, Joe was reading Wednesday's Wall Street Journal, and David read the parts that listed the information he'd need to make Tuesday's investments. He chatted briefly with his father-in-law and returned to his body. After jotting down the numbers he'd committed to memory, he turned on his computer.

Should I bet the farm? he asked himself and chuckled. Why not? I can't lose. I know the closing prices for the index and currency options I want to trade today.

He bought an assortment of options, investing $18 million, the total of Darla's, his mother's, and his investment capital. He also took advantage of the maximum margin allowed. His profit for the trading day would be in the neighborhood of $250,000. About an average day, he figured.

"Not bad wages for fifteen minutes," he said out loud as he pushed his chair away from the computer and stood up.

He was drinking his first cup of coffee for the day when he realized his new business paradigm would give him more leisure time. "I need a hobby," he said out loud just as Nora padded into the kitchen.

She was naked, which wasn't unusual. In their home, Nora preferred nudity to being dressed. She looked mussed, not really disheveled, just not quite put-together. That would change. She'd present the perfect FBI special agent when she left the house to commute to work. David preferred the slight disarray of her early-morning look to the FBI uniform she donned. Besides, a naked Nora beat a dressed Nora hands down every time. Nora was one of those women who actually looked better nude than partially dressed.

"Talkin' to yourself now, huh?" she said, gave him a good-morning kiss, and poured herself a cup of coffee.

David considered her question rhetorical and said nothing.

She sat at the table, blew air over the rim on her cup and sipped some coffee. "Did the experiment work?" she said as her green eyes settled on David with the detachment of a Siamese cat.

"Yes, in an around about way." He described the trip.

"How much will we make today?" she said.

He told her.

"Holy cow, David! That equates to around $60 million a year, give or take $10 million," she said.

"If I don't increase the amount I invest each day, yes, but by increasing the daily investment slightly as the profits roll in, I can easily take our annual income from day trading to $100 million and beyond the first year. I won't go beyond, though. There's a point when my investments alone will affect the markets too much and change the closing prices. This is especially true if I go short. I'll place excess funds in long-term securities and let them grow in a normal fashion. I was saying I'd need a hobby because the $100 million will only take about fifteen minutes of my time per trading day."

"We don't need that much money, David," she said. "No one needs that much money."

"I agree," he said. "I think I'll give away a large chunk of it — the hobby I was mumbling about when you joined me"

She smiled. "David, the philanthropist, huh?"

"Mr. and Mrs. David Stanley, the philanthropists," I said.

"Uh-uh. I'm a G-person."

He laughed. "A person can have a day job and still be a philanthropist."

"Humph!" she huffed. "I'm a pistol-packin' chick from the sticks, not a highfalutin society queen."

He laughed again. "And I love my pistol-packing chick." He paused. "Where is it written that philanthropy is akin to high society?"

She frowned.

"My type of philanthropy will take place in the trenches, Nora-girl, not at black-tie benefits," he added. "I've been careful to remain as anonymous as possible, and pushing my way into high society would defeat that purpose." He took her hand. "Help me give our money away, sweetheart. It'll be something we can do together and have fun while we're doing it."

Her green eyes danced with mischief. "I'll help you if you help me."

David groaned. "I don't cope well with evil, and terrorists, to my mind, sit at the top of the evil heap." He sighed. "All right. Point me at some suspected terrorists cells, and I'll check them out, but you and other G-persons you work with must take it from there."

"Deal," she said. "Check with Darla. She's at loose ends. She'll jump at an opportunity to give our money away."

"I'll do that."

She rose to her feet, poured herself another cup of coffee and set it on the table. "I've got the early mornin' hornies, and we've got the time. Slide your chair back a little," she said.

David grinned and complied with her request. She sat on the table in front of him and pulled her feet up to the table. "Ready for breakfast?" she said as her knees fell open.

He laughed, pulled her feet over his shoulders and slid the chair forward again. She moaned with pleasure when his mouth covered her vulva. "Nice," she said. "I do love to be eaten early in the morn." She picked up the cup of coffee and sipped. "Yeah, right there. So good."

David reveled in her fragrances and flavors as his tongue rolled around and around her clitoris. He felt the nubbin grow larger, and through experience knew when she could take and would want direct contact. She climaxed quickly, which didn't surprise him. She would not have been so pushy had she not felt the need. He was surprised when she pushed him away. He thought she'd want at least two orgasms from his mouth before she'd want him to stop.

He understood when she pulled at him and said, "Fuck me now."

When he rose to his feet, he noticed her coffee cup was empty. "Finished your coffee, huh?" he said with a chuckle he pushed down his shorts and kicked them away. His t-shirt landed on the floor, and then he rolled the crown of his cock in her cunt to get it lubricated.

She blushed, and then laughed. "Where is it said that a gal can't have a good cup of coffee while having a good come. Ah." The drawn-out "Ah," came out as he pushed his cock inside her. "I do love a good fuck after I've been eaten in the early morn," she said.

"Happy to oblige," he said. "Touch yourself if you want to come again."

He watched her hand move to her pussy and enjoyed her fingers fondling his shaft as she gathered some natural lubricant. His thrusts lengthened and quickened, but he waited for her. Her fingers flashed over her clitoris, and she pinched and fondled her nipples. He watched a small red blotch form at the base of her neck. It grew slowly and spread across her upper chest as she moved closer to her climax.

"So good, lover," she gushed. "So good. Yes. Yes. Ah. Yes. Oh, I'm coming. Coming. Now! Come in my now!"

They climaxed together, and he collapsed back onto the chair.

Nice way to start a day, he reflected.


They were sharing a shower when Nora said, "Before you talk with Darla about philanthropy in the trenches, fuck her. She needs a good fuck, too, baby."

"I can do that," David said.

"You've also been neglecting your mother."

"Not my fault. She's been busy," David said. His mother had jumped in with both feet in the operation of Arabian Downs and one of their Arabian mares had just given birth to a colt.

"Go to her. She'll make the time," Nora said.

"I'd planned to see her today, anyway. I want her to close out our trading days. If she agrees to take on the job, she'll need some training, not much, but a little."

"Good. She's helped you for years. She'd be upset, and rightly so, if your new way of doing business made her unnecessary."

"I'm not as certain about that as you," he said. "She's become so involved with Joe and the ranch that she has little time for anything else. I've sensed some resentment lately, especially regarding the month-end reports. They've been a day or two late the last two months."

"She's also keeping the books for Arabian Downs. Maybe you should hire a bookkeeper to do the reports," Nora said and huffed a derisive laugh. "From the sound of it, you can afford it. Regardless, don't leave her out of the day-to-day activities of your business."

"Getting her to tell me what she's honestly feeling about the work will be the trick."

"Probably," Nora said. "I'm clean."

"Yep. I washed the good parts more than once."

"I noticed and appreciated your effort at cleanliness," she said as she moved out of the shower and grabbed a towel. "Gotta hurry now. Can't be late. Gotta make sure crime doesn't pay."


"Waddaya mean by philanthropy in the trenches, big brother," Darla said as she cuddled next to him on her bed. David had taken his wife's suggestion to heart, and his sister hadn't objected to playing some sexy games, just the opposite. George had still been asleep when David stepped into her house, so she'd grinned and stripped and dragged him to her bedroom. They now basked in the afterglow of shared orgasms.

"We could write checks to charitable organizations that support good causes, and we will, but that doesn't feel very satisfying to me. I want to examine the charitable situation in person and make sure what we do does the most good, more of a one-on-one approach, if you will. Also, throwing money at some folks could do more harm than good."

"Give me an example," she said.

"Let's say we give a homeless man enough that he no longer needs to be homeless. Instead of renting an apartment, he could buy enough booze to drink himself to death, or overdose on drugs, or he could flash the money at the wrong person and get hit over the head by a mugger for the money. A homeless person has to be ready to cope with the real world before our money will help."

"Are you saying we can't help the homeless?" Darla said.

"Not at all. There's an organization called CASS, which stands for Central Arizona Shelter Services. It provides not only a place for the homeless to sleep but also ancillary services that help the homeless learn how to cope with the world around them. Let's meet with the manager of one of the shelters. Maybe we can supply apartments at no-rent or half-rent to specific individuals or families that have been through CASS's counseling programs but still need a leg up to make it."

"Ah, I'm starting to understand. I'd like to help battered women and children. How would we go about that?" Darla said.

"I believe there's an organization that provides a safe haven for them, as well. We could talk with one of the shelter managers. Notice, I haven't suggested that we talk to the men and women listed on the letterheads of the organizations: the board members, or the CEOs, those types. Going that route would take us out of the trenches."

"Yeah it would," she said.

"I want to help soldiers who have been wounded. I think a visit to the VA Hospital might give us a way to approach that charity," David said.

"Nurses are in the trenches. They know who needs help."

"Good idea. What we need, Darla, is a cadre of... well, for lack of a better title, charity operatives, folks who will call us when some money is needed and will be well spent."

She chuckled. "Charity operatives. I like it, David. This sounds like fun."

"Work should be fun," he said. "If we approach charity from the trenches, we'll have to work at it to give away $50 million a year."

She gasped. "That much?"

"Darla, with my new business paradigm, that's only half what we'll make over the next year."

She giggled. "I hope you plan to lose some days. If you don't, the SEC will be knocking at your door with handcuffs dangling from their fingers."

"I've taken that into consideration. We'll need some help beyond charity operatives. Mom can't do the reports any longer. She needs accounting help, and we'll all need help with taxes, or the governments will take the $50 million we want to give away for their give-away programs. I don't mind paying taxes, but I don't want to pay a dime more than I'm obligated to pay under the current tax laws, and there's a lot of fucking tax laws, too many to keep track of with the time I'm willing to give the effort. What's more, I suspect that some of our charitable contributions won't be deductible because we'll be giving to individuals instead of charitable organization. This means a foundation or a non-profit corporation will probably be necessary, which I'm reluctant to set up. With the way our family operates, I'd prefer remaining as close to anonymous as possible, another reason for us to stay in the trenches instead of sitting around a conference table in board rooms."

"George is waking up," Darla said.

David hadn't heard the boy. He had a theory that said a mother's hearing was enhanced at the birth of a child. From personal observation, his theory held water. The boy delighted his uncle with his antics. At four years old, he was all elbows and knees. He never walked. Instead, he ran everywhere he wanted to go. Darla had a difficult time keeping up with him.

"Good. Let's eat breakfast and go out among the downtrodden and find some charity operatives today," he said.

"All right. Will we be safe? If so, I'll take the George with us. If not... maybe Mom will tend him."

"Maybe?" David said, raising his eyebrows.

"She's... well, she's been busy lately, David."

"I think we'll be safe, but... let's see Mom first. Something's going on with her that we need to know about."


Carol Stanley Patterson brushed her teeth. She detested the acrid taste and sting of vomit in the mouth. After drying her face and hands, she picked up the home pregnancy tester and read the results again.

Pregnant!

Stupid! How could I be so stupid? What if David is the father? He's as likely the father as Joe. Besides, I'm too old to have a baby. I'm a grandmother, dammit!

What will Joe say? What will he think?

Well, there's no time like the present to find out.

She found her husband in the barn mucking out the stalls. In an effort to make the horse farm a paying proposition, he did most of the work himself. He was working too hard, too many hours. That had to change. Her pregnancy would cause a lot of changes, some of them good, some bad.

Joe hadn't noticed her, so she watched him at work. He'd removed his shirt, and the muscles in his shoulders and back rippled as he shoveled horseshit into a wheelbarrow. Sexy galoot, she thought as desire started to take hold. She felt her love for him settle over her, but then dismay snuck in again. How would he react?

He smiled when he saw her, and she melted. Would he smile when she told him that in seven or eight months he'd be a daddy again? Him or my son, that is?

She sighed.

"Cowboy, I'm pregnant," she said, deciding not to sneak up on the subject.

He looked like she'd just driven a railroad spike into his brain. He recovered quickly, though. He didn't smile, but the pained expression left his rugged face.

She handed him the tester. "See, it says I'm pregnant."

He took it from her, glanced at the device, and looked up at her. "I'll be dipped," he said, and then he finally flashed his boyish smile at her. "I'm going to be a daddy again."

"You or David," Carol said.

A row of sixteen-penny nails from a pneumatic nail gun joined the railroad spike previously buried in his skull. What she'd just said had caused her loving husband severe mental anguish. For that, she was sincerely sorry.

"My periods are erratic, have been for years, Joe. I've gone six months without one. I didn't think... that's the problem. I didn't think." Tears smarted her eyes.

Then her husband did something that made her love him that much more. He took her in his arms and said, "David's, mine, it doesn't matter, Carol. I'm your husband. I'm the child's father. End of discussion."

She couldn't contain the strong emotions that she'd been trying so desperately to control any longer and burst into tears. Tears of relief and joy, but also tears of worry and fear. Confused, she didn't know what she felt as she clung to her husband as if he were a lifeline.

"There, there," he said as he held her and listened to her say she was sorry over and over again. "Let it all out. It's okay. I love you, buttercup. You gave my life new meaning. Soon you'll give me a new child to cherish. I'll admit, you surprised me, but... I'm happy about this, Carol. The more I think about it, the happier I feel."

"If David is the father, what will Nora think? Oh, I've made such a mess of things!" she wailed between sobs as she clung to him.

"Nora will be happy for you, too."

"She told David to refuse Denise's request because she wanted any child of David's to be hers." And unlike me, Carol thought, Nora didn't go off the pill after the wedding as she'd planned. She'd wanted a few more years to devote to her career before taking on the role of a mother. I went off the pill well before the wedding, though. The pill was making me fat, and I didn't think I could have another baby. Stupid!

Suddenly furious with herself again, she stopped sobbing.

Joe ignored her last proclamation of pending doom and said, "What do you want? A boy or a girl?"

"I want a healthy baby," she said. "At my age, that could be problematic."

"Hah! Women your age have healthy babies all the time."

"Not if the child's father is the mother's son," she said, which promptly ended that avenue of discussion.

Under control again, she wiped her eyes and cheeks with the heels of her hands. "I must look a mess," she said. "Come inside. I'll wash my face, and we can talk."

"Okay. Let me finish..."

"Uh-uh, cowboy. Now. That's one of the things I want to talk about. You're working too hard. So am I. That's got to change. I'm pregnant. You'll soon be a father again. You'll need to free up some your time for the baby." Maybe, she added silently.

"But..."

"Now, cowboy," she said, took his hand and tugged as she flashed a smile at him. "Now, please."

He nodded.

They were walking across the yard between the barn and the big house when David drove up in the Escalade. Darla and the boy were with him, Carol noticed.

"Keep them busy, and let me tell them," Carol said. "I need to freshen up first." She waved at her children and hurried into the house.


"The colt is a beauty," David said to his mother when he sat at the kitchen table. She's been crying, he thought as he watched his mother put a mug of coffee in front of him, fixed just the way he liked it, no doubt.

Joe had intercepted David, Darla and the boy, taking them to the barn to see the new colt dropped two days ago. Joe isn't acting like himself, either, David added in his mind.

When they were all seated around the table, David said, "Okay, what's going on?"

Instead of answering David's question, Carol handed her daughter a plastic stick-like object. Darla glanced at it and squealed happily, "You're pregnant?"

"Yes," Carol said.

She should be overjoyed, David thought after the initial shock of the announcement subsided. She's not. Why? Had Joe given her a bad time about becoming a father at his age? Is that why... ? "Oh, shit!" he breathed.

Carol chuckled. Her son had just figured out the problem. "Yes, David, the child could be yours."

"To hell with that," Joe said. "That's my baby you're carrying, buttercup. End of discussion."

Carol patted her husband's hand. "Sorry, cowboy, that isn't the end of the discussion. Tests must be made. If my son is the father, I'll have an abortion."

Joe glared at her, pushed back his chair and rose to his feet. "Not on my watch, you won't," he said, his rugged face creased with fury. He turned and walked away.

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