Repeat Performance - Cover

Repeat Performance

Copyright© 2010 by Coaster2

Chapter 3: A Place to Talk

Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 3: A Place to Talk - Lee North suffers a fifty year setback after an accident. Fifty years into his past, he's having to start his life over again. It wasn't going to turn out the way it did the first time.

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Time Travel   DoOver   Slow  

I've never been much of a joiner, but my carpool mate, Ted, was the opposite. He hungered to be in a fraternity, while I wanted no part of one. Neither of us was what could be called the "in crowd," so we weren't likely to be rushed by any of the elite houses. However, Ted was a science fiction fan, and he found there was a weekly discussion group that anyone could join. He wanted to find out what it was about and in doing so, dragged me along with him. It was my turn to drive, so I could hardly leave him. I let the two girls know we would be leaving a little late, so they headed for the library to study until we came to get them.

I think if Ted had suggested this when I was really 18, I'd have told him he was nuts and I'd wait for him at the library with the girls. However, I was actually living what might be described as some kind of science fiction existence, so I had more interest than I might otherwise have had. We walked into the room of the old WW II Quonset hut and found twenty or so students, both male and female, sitting at desks while some guy acted as moderator. It was their first meeting, and he was outlining the "rules and procedures" of the group, trying to give it some manageable structure I suppose.

I looked around and saw a smattering of what I thought to be the usual geeks and keeners I expected to see, but at the same time, I saw some other faces that didn't fit the profile. More ordinary, I suppose. More like Ted and me. An interesting mix. An idea was beginning to form in my mind, but I would have to wait to see if the format of the meeting would allow me to express it.

The first hour was taken up almost exclusively with questions about what was or wasn't an appropriate topic. Flying saucers were in ... but little green men were out. More importantly, I got the impression the moderator wanted to steer the discussion in a philosophical direction. How does man deal with the unknown? What are the ramifications of time travel? That one got my attention. Are we alone in the universe? Is there a parallel universe? The more he led the discussion, the more interested I became.

The group was scheduled to meet once a week on Tuesdays at the Quonset hut near the physics building. I would have to let my carpool group know that they could plan on being an hour later leaving the campus each Tuesday. It didn't seem to be a problem, at least not at first.

If I had learned a useful skill during my years in sales and management, it was to become a good listener. In my youth, I was far too anxious to jump into a conversation without really knowing what it was all about. It was an often useful exercise to shut up and find about what other people are saying before diving in. For the first two meetings of the SciFi Club, as I called it, I just listened. I wanted to get the drift of both the moderator's aims and the input from the other students. It was a good decision.

Far from the ramblings of geeks and weirdos that I had originally expected, the discussions were thoughtful and very complex. Most of the members were very well read, citing Asimov of course, along with Bradbury and Heinlein. I knew their names, but had little knowledge of their work. If I could find the time, I would search out a couple of their books on the topic of time travel and see what they had to say. At the end of the session, I approached the moderator, one David Meehan.

"Mr. Meehan, I was wondering if you could recommend a couple of books that focus on time travel; specifically travelling backward in time. I'd like to try and get a scientific view rather than a romantic view, if I could."

He looked at me carefully before answering. "I think I might have something for you," he said solemnly. He turned back to his desk, pulled a file folder from a collection scattered across the top, extracted a piece of paper and said, "This should give you a good overview. If you would be so kind as to copy this and return it to me for our next meeting, I would appreciate it."

"Sure thing ... I'll just Xerox it and have it back in no time."

He looked at me as if I had two heads. "You'll just what?"

Instantly I realized my mistake. Ain't no Xerox machines in 1959. "Uhhm ... I mean, I'll write out the suggestions and return it to you right away. Where can I find you?"

"Right here in this classroom. I'm a teaching assistant, so I'm here everyday."

He was still looking at me strangely, but hadn't moved to retrieve the paper. I thanked him again and quickly headed for the door. Shit! I didn't need to make

those kinds of mistakes in front of smart people.

The discussion group got much more interesting the following week when Meehan requested we bring in topics for discussion and he would choose a few to discuss over the course of the semester. It was the opportunity I had hoped for, so I spent some time wording my suggestion to have maximum impact on the group.

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