House - Cover

House

Copyright© 2012 by Old Man with a Pen

Chapter 6: Ultimatum

Time Travel Sex Story: Chapter 6: Ultimatum - On an exploratory road trip to the east coast I found the perfect home in New Hampshire. Now, if I could buy it I'd be happy...If I could find someone to sell it...If I could find out who owns it...and what about the fine red lines surrounding the house when it's foggy? Why do most of the old men look alike and why are the women young, buxom, blond and beautiful. But, most of all, what casts the shadows on the windows?

Caution: This Time Travel Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   mt/ft   Consensual   Mind Control   Drunk/Drugged   Magic   Science Fiction   Time Travel   Humor   Extra Sensory Perception   Space   Mystery   Spanking   Light Bond   Orgy   Harem   First   Oral Sex   Anal Sex   Petting   Slow   Nudism  

I stepped out on the hotel veranda. My cup was sitting on the small white ice cream shop table. The cup was full and steaming. I 'accidentally' bumped the table and the cup tipped, spun and crashed to the floor, shattering in a million pieces.

One of the "J's" came out with a fresh cup and the pot. I reached in my suit jacket pocket and removed a six and a half ounce bottle of Coke, pried the top off and took a sip. "J" looked disappointed.

A summerfolk stuck a cup in her face and said, "fill mine, sweetie." Reluctantly, she did.


I need a tangent break here. 6 and a half ounce Coke is the best coke in the world. The coke itself is better; sugar, not corn syrup. But the best part of it is the glass. A six Coke bottle is really thick so it stays cold longer.

I bought that coke from the dime machine at the Shell and it was still just above freezing.

I love it. The carbonation is zingier, the coke is colder, the sweet is sweeter, and there's more of that secret ingredient they still put in all Coke.


New Hampshire, 55 miles from the seacoast: in 1963 cats and dogs ran the streets in droves. Everyone fed them, no one really owned them. There were more than normal due to the extensive flooding from the recent storm.

Pets were kept in runs or in the house. These were no more pets than the children of the town were pets. Animal Control? If you needed to control a wild dog, you shot it and nobody said a word. Since it wasn't illegal to discharge a firearm in the village limits people were always shooting at something.


A word about "law makers." The necessary laws were written years ago. But law makers need to make laws or they're useless and thieves of the public welfare. Now they make laws for the weak and terrified. If it isn't against the law today it will be tomorrow. So many laws to 'protect' the children ... I know where children come from and there's more of them up there. Children are NOT our country's future ... they're our downfall.


Since the area was over run with cats, there were no rats, or mice. One of the kittens crept from it's mother's basket on the end of the porch, drawn by the smell of sweet creamed coffee from my shattered cup. It licked up as much of the spill as it could get at easily.

I noticed the sound of the broken china sliding around on the porch, bent down and picked up the kitten ... these are mostly feral animals, but used to people.

I petted the kitten ... he attacked my hand, I thumped his nose ... we got along. Just about the time the kitten stopped purring, the summer person fell out of his chair, sound asleep. Ah ... meant for me.


You should know I'm stubborn ... I sat for 3 days, in my shit and piss, growling at my mothers oatmeal. "You are going to sit there until you eat that," she said. I didn't. I don't eat oatmeal, malt-o-meal, cream-o-wheat or any of that crap except grits, and they have to be nearly solid with butter and salt ... only!!

Well, you can slip in some cheese and soft boiled eggs, that's breakfast. The rest of that crap is poison. My dad felt the same way.

My brother and my sisters finally refused to sit at the table while I smelled so bad. Mother was defeated, she did not accept it gracefully.


I could tell these folks weren't going to take defeat gracefully, either.

Just then, my car alarm sounded.

"Jason, you might mention the the management that my car is going to blow up in ten minutes if I don't reset the alarm," I said. "If I had been asleep from your drugged coffee the blast would have killed everyone in a four block area."

I was amazed at how fast he got up ... I followed him in the door. The door to the hall to the back parking lot was open and Jerry was yelling, "SHUT IT OFF ... SHUT IT OFF! David will be back there faster than you can spit."

Jason was practically running ... for a man nearly 90..."It's a bomb! It's a bomb! Don't touch anything!" He grabbed Jerry, "I knew that kid was trouble. He's too damn smart."

I walked out the back door, the white bus was parked, idling next to my car and three good sized men in khakis, deck shoes and black hardhats were trying to let go of my car.

"Shocking ... absolutely shocking ... the way you folks treat paying customers. I'm going to reset the alarm and that should let you get loose." I grinned. "Don't fuck with me ... there's 500 pounds of C-4 built into the car and you don't have time to get it out of here before it levels a four block area. Even trying to haul it off with a wrecker will set it off. I'm an inventor and I did some 'unauthorized' work on that car."

I pushed a button in my pocket ... the door popped open, I reset the alarm, and the three men collapsed.

"Come on Jason, let's go sit and you can finish the story." I said that more like a command than a request. It got results.

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