Twilight Homecoming

It was a cloudy, foggy day. Matt Cook was cramped, tired, grouchy, and rapidly getting sick of trees. Rain had been an intermittent problem throughout the drive, and visibility was minimal, which had turned a 5 hour drive into closer to 7 so far, and he hadn't even hit the George Washington yet. Matt wasn't a big fan of going home anyway, since he didn't have that much to look forward to after all of his friends went away to college too. However, he was going anyway because, as always, his mom had quite pointedly reminded him that she and his dad were generously paying for his tuition, room, board, and car, and that they dang well wanted to see him on holidays.

" ... yes, mom, I know," Matt said, peering out through the pea soup and simultaneously resisting the urge to kill his speaker phone. "Would you like me to have an accident, is that it? I can't get there any faster than I am, because I can't see!"

"Well who is the one who was so sure that he wouldn't have a problem making the family dinner if he drove down that day?" came his mother's voice, rendered even more whiny and tinny than usual on the crappy speakerphone on Matt's cell. "We wanted you to come down earlier, but..."

"I'm sorry that I had a final yesterday," Matt snapped back. "Next time I'll just ask the professor to let me take it earlier so my passing courses won't interfere with your social planning. Your plans, which you made AFTER I gave you my final exam schedule!"

"Don't touch that, you'll burn yourself," she said, clearly speaking to someone in the house with her. Probably one of Matt's cousins; his sisters and brother were both way too old to need that kind of warning.

Matt seized the opportunity. "Look I'll get there as soon as I can, but now I have to go and concentrate on driving, since I don't have cruise," Matt said quickly, reaching over and cutting the connection quickly, before she had a chance to respond.

It was solid white in front of him, and nothing but grey haze behind. Matt was very glad that this was a divided freeway, or things would have gotten really dangerous. The occasional flashes of light from cars going the other way and from lightning from the storm, now moving away from him, didn't help much. His mind drifted, as it often did, to sex. One of things he always hated about going home was being unable to read stories online; there were just too many people in that house to risk visiting any of his favorite story sites, especially the transformation and mind control heavy stuff he liked. He didn't want to think about what would happen if his mom caught him looking at that stuff.

Suddenly, there was a bright flash in front of him, and Matt slammed on his brakes, skidding to a hard stop. He braced himself, expecting to feel the sharp impact of another vehicle at any second, but none came. Realizing that he was ok, Matt quickly pulled over to the side of the road, hitting his 4-ways, so someone coming from behind didn't get him.

Stepping out, he looked around, but he didn't hear any of the noises and general panic one would expect to hear if he had narrowly avoided an accident, or even the fainter sounds of panic from one happening on the other side of the freeway. With the fog being what it was, he couldn't even see across the meridian to the opposite direction. He began to inspect his car, trying to see if he could spot what had caused that.

As Matthew checked his car for damage, a man in a tweed suit stepped out of the forest beside the road, and turned to address the readers.

"Consider one Matthew Cook, 20, of Rye, New York. A Micro-Electronics student at the South Henrietta Institute of Technology. An A student, well liked. Spends some of his free time reading erotica online. He was on his way home one rainy day to visit his family; a mother, father, 3 sisters, a younger brother, and his Aunt and cousins, all gathering together for the New Year break."

Matthew completed checking the car for damage, and, finding none, got back in. A spark flew from the ignition as he turned the car over. Swearing to have it looked at, Matt began to drive off very slowly.

"A few moments ago, Matthew saw a bright flash of light. He didn't hit another car, but he did hit something. That something is about to change his life in ways he has only imagined. In a few hours time, he will complete his long drive home, not realizing that, from this point on, he is driving ever deeper into ... the Twilight Zone."

According to the dashboard clock, it was 10:47 when Matt finally pulled into his driveway. He thought he could see the drape-outlined silhouette of his mother follow him from the living room at the front of the house toward the rear garage as he pulled around, parking in the asphalt square next to her organic garden. Thoroughly exhausted, he got out and headed toward the kitchen door, grabbing him bags on the way. As he approached the door, his mother swung it open.

"Well, it's about time you got here," she said, making no move to help him with his luggage as he scooted past her. "You know that we held up dinner hoping you would get home," she added, following him in. "Your Aunt made it on time, all the way from London"

"Come on sis, don't be too hard on him," his aunt chimed in, her voice an odd mix of Jersey and Cockney accents. "We just had to catch a plane. He actually had ta drive."

"Don't make excuses for him," his mom replied, putting her hands on her too-big waist. "He said he said he would be here, and didn't even have the decency to call us to let us know he was stopping for dinner."

"I didn't..." Matt tried to say, but his mother kept going.

"I thought I raised you better than that," she continued, her voice growing whinier by the second. "Making us all wait..."

"I didn't have dinner!" Matt yelled, cutting her off. "I have been driving non-stop for over 7 hours. And by the way, thanks for helping me with my luggage," he added, dropping his bags on the floor.

"Are you OK? Those look heavy," Aunt Hanna chimed in, a concerned look passing over her cute face.

Looking at the two next to each other, you would never guess they were sisters. Matt's mom, Sarah, was overweight, with short cropped, graying hair and bad skin, looking more than her 49 years, while Aunt Hanna, while not a model, retained her long hair and body well, looking younger than her 33 years. The two were only half sisters, their father having remarried a younger woman, but they got along fine, despite having very different personalities.

Matt's father wandered into the room. A fit man with graying hair, which all the children secretly maintained was from his 23 years of marriage to their mother, Peter Cook was a nice, but unassuming man.

"Let the boy be," he said to Sarah. "The weather was not with him today. What would you prefer, he crashed because he was hurrying? Then you'd be yelling at him for raising the insurance and for the hospital bill."

"Now, just a minute," Sarah began, but Hanna cut her off.

"Look, why don't we give him some food and let him get some rest. He looks exhausted," she said. "The kids are already asleep, so there is nothing for it now."

On cue, Matt's younger sisters, Michelle and Mary, entered the room. Matt hadn't seen them for a year, and boy had their looks changed. The 18 year old twins had been going for a 'bet you can't tell who is who' look the last time he had been in, but they had taken a 180 since. Michelle (Matt had never had trouble telling them apart) was wearing a tight blouse and tight, low riding jeans, which did things for her tight cheerleader body that Matt pointedly didn't think about, her brown hair cut long and wavy. Mary's clothes, while equally tight, consisted of a jet black midriff bearing baby tee and a black mid length skirt, along with a ton of ankh themed jewelry and black makeup that matched her dyed hair. Matt knew that the two had been fighting ever since only Michelle made the cheering squad, but he hadn't expected Mary to go goth.

"Hey look, the lost boy's home," said Mary, pointing. Michelle elbowed her, but Matt could tell they were just playing around. Both came over and hugged him.

"We'd love to stay and chat, but we have to head up," said Michelle, gesturing to the back staircase. "You want us to take your bags up to your room, so you can get some food?"

"That would be great, but I wouldn't want to get yelled at," Matt stage whispered to them. Their mother was overly sensitive about feminist topics, and was wont to go off on a tirade for this sort of thing, even though the rooms were right next to each other.

"You're going that way anyway," said Aunt Hanna, cutting off her sister before she could get started. "I'll grab some too. I'm jet lagged and I need to sleep."

While Hanna quietly fumed at being cut off, the three grabbed the bags and headed up the back stairs. Matt faintly heard some conversation from the living room and then there was the sound of feet on the front stairway; no doubt it was Brian, the youngest Cook, also being sent up by Clair. Matt went to get some food, and his parents left, his father gently guiding his mother back out to the TV room. Matt made himself a sandwich. As he finished eating, he heard the theme song for one of his parent's shows come on, and then Clair walked into the kitchen.

Matt's twin sister was something else. A teen beauty queen, she had gotten herself in to Rensselaer Institut Polytechnique in Albany on here contest winnings. She had yet to declare a major, but was leaning toward Electrical or Mechanical Engineering. The pair were about the same height, and shared straight, brown hair and a fit build. They also shared a marked preference for t-shirts, although Matt wore his loose, while Clair's were always tight, showing off her full C-cups. She had on a pair of loose sweatpants, her preferred relaxation clothing, with the school logo on the side. Matt was also wearing sweats, he found them more comfortable on long drives.

"Hey bro, what's up?" she asked, coming over and giving him a quick hug. Matt was always tempted to try and hold these longer or make them tighter, but he had long ago learned to think of other things and always look at her face. "That was some fog they had upstate today, huh? I heard from Brandon that he almost crashed a few times going across to the Mass border."

Brandon Jameson had been Clair's boyfriend since high school, and was one of Matt's best friends. His family had moved to Boston when the economy turned bad. Brandon was spending the first half of vacation visiting his parents' new place, before he joined up with Clair at the house and they headed back up together. It was pretty much given that they were only waiting to finish college to get married.

"Yeah, it was pea soup out there," replied Matt. "I actually had one quick stop when I thought I hit someone, but it turned out to be nothing. I got to say, though, that after all of that I am really stressed out and cramped. I wish that mom and dad would let me kill that car and get something with cruise control; then at least my right leg wouldn't feel so bad. Hell, something with decent shocks wouldn't be bad either."

"Oh come on, it can't be that bad," she said lightly. "Here, let me see, you big baby," she added, kneeling down in front of him and placing her hands on his leg. Among her prodigious skill set, she also had some experience as a sports medic, from being on the volleyball team in high school.

"It is so that bad," replied Matt, testily, putting his water down and crossing his arms. "And I don't want to hear that from you, miss 'has a one year old car with a nav system'."

"Hey, I paid for that myself," she replied, as she continued feeling up Matt's leg. He leaned back on the counter a bit. What she was doing felt great to his still cramped legs.

What she did next felt even better. As she reached the top of his legs, her hands scooted up to his waist. In one motion, she pulled both his sweatpants and his underwear down with one hand, and with the other grabbed his already halfway turgid cock and started stroking.

"If you're really that stressed out, I'm sure I can help," she said, looking Matt straight in the eyes.

Matt's first instinct was to back away, but up against the corner of the counter as he was, going past his sister was the only way he could move. Instead he grabbed her hand lightly, trying to pull her off, but she resisted, and he succeeded only in stopping her motion. This restored just enough blood flow to his brain for him to squeak out a 'What the hell?' before she lightly batted his hand off of hers and resumed stroking.