Lightning in a Bottle - Cover

Lightning in a Bottle

Copyright© 2012 by Sage Mullins

Chapter 43: Something To Talk About

Time Travel Sex Story: Chapter 43: Something To Talk About - Patrick O'Malley, a 44-year old former musician, is quite happy with his life as a twice-divorced, middle-aged playboy. Suddenly, he finds himself sent back in time to a point a few days past his 17th birthday. He also discovers that things are not quite the same this time around. The "violent" code applies only to a single incident. The FF is implied and happens off-screen.

Caution: This Time Travel Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   mt/ft   Fa/Fa   Consensual   Romantic   Time Travel   DoOver   Interracial   Oral Sex   Anal Sex   Violence   School  

August 21, 1983

Beams of morning sunlight shone in a dazzling fashion around the periphery of the window shades. I awoke with a start, momentarily confused at my surroundings. Then, I remembered where I was, and what had transpired last night. I became aware of who was lying next to me in the bed, and my heart leaped with joy.

I turned to look at her. Inez was facing me, her face a mere inches from mine, still fast asleep. I savored the close-up view of that peaceful, angelic face for a few minutes, wondering what kind of dreams might be taking place behind those beautiful, albeit closed, eyes.

I reached a point where I could no longer resist. I moved in close, and pressed my lips against hers. Her eyelids fluttered, and finally opened fully. Like me, she appeared disoriented for a second or two, before breaking out into a dreamy smile. And also like me, she'd just experienced a moment of recognition.

"Good morning, beautiful," I told her simply.

Inez responded by leaning in and giving me a gentle yet sensuous kiss, which evolved into a steamy makeout session. Neither of us were even a little concerned about morning breath. She then reached down with her hand, grasping my morning wood, which due to the circumstances, could be more accurately described as a morning diamond.

"Mmmm," she purred. "I can think of a use for that."

"So can I," I started, but she was one step ahead of me. She rose up and straddled me, and quickly drew me inside her. I couldn't believe how wet she already was. Now, she was in full control, bouncing up and down on top of me, giving me a spectacular view of her nude form, with her pleasure unmistakably etched upon her lovely face. It didn't take long for each of us to reach climax; she collapsed upon my prone form, once again in a state of emotional overload.

"I will never, ever get tired of that," I said to her honestly, referring to her tears of joy. "And have I told you that I love you?"

"You have," she replied with a fetching smile. "But I can't hear it often enough. And I love you, too."

So, there we were, with her head resting upon my shoulder, and my dying erection still inside of her. And all of a sudden, we heard the distinctive sound of dishes clanging together, originating from out in the kitchen.

"Evie!" we both whispered at the same time. We both tried to muzzle the laughter that followed, and thankfully, we largely succeeded.

"She knows I'm in here," I said ever so softly, but with certainty. "Nothing gets past Evie."

"Let's put our clothes on," Inez whispered in my ear. Taking a couple of sheets of tissue paper, she proceeded to clean us both off, and we got dressed.

"Wait here," she instructed me, before opening the door, and slipping outside into the apartment proper.

I heard their voices, with an occasional giggle or two mixed in, coming from out in the kitchen. Finally, I heard Inez's voice, calling to me.

"It's okay, sweetie. You can come out now."

And so, out I went. To Evie's immense credit, she took it all in stride. Yes, she had figured everything out. In fact, she had prepared a surprise for us; one that was typically Evie. A veritable feast was laid out on the breakfast table, along with two plates.

"I got up a little early," she explained, "because I wanted to make breakfast for my two favorite lovebirds. Don't worry about me; I've already eaten. And now, I'm off to spend the day with my mom. This place is yours for the day. I'll see you both at practice tonight."

I gave Inez a look that said, "Is she for real?" Inez just shook her head, every bit as touched as I was.

When Evie reached the door, she turned back and smiled at us. "I love you both," she told us. "And I couldn't be happier for you." And with that, she disappeared outside.

"How did she know?" I asked Inez, in a low voice.

"She saw your car still parked outside, and put two and two together."

A few minutes later, Inez and I were seated at the table, having breakfast. We'd pulled our chairs up close together, and she was kind of half sitting on my lap, with her leg draped over mine. In front of us was a delicious assortment of pancakes with syrup, scrambled eggs, and bacon. Evie had even taken the time to cut up some fresh fruit for us.

I wanted to talk a little bit about what had happened last night; more specifically, near the end of the reception. I decided to take an implicit approach.

"I know that I can be a real shithead sometimes," I told Inez.

She gave me a most affectionate smile, but said nothing.

"You're not disagreeing with me," I pointed out with a laugh.

Still smiling, she remained silent for a few more seconds.

"But you're my shithead now," she finally said with a giggle, as I laughed heartily. Then, she let me off the hook.

"I'm just teasing you," she assured me, gently rubbing my forearm. "I want you to know this. For me, everything last night was perfect. I wouldn't have had it happen any other way."

"That's a relief," I told her honestly. She took a spoonful of scrambled eggs and fed them to me, cupping her hand under my chin to catch any pieces which might have escaped going into my mouth.

Then, Inez had a request.

"Could you sing that beautiful song to me again?" she asked in a decidedly girlish voice.

"Of course, angel."

And I did.

"I wanted to hear the words one more time," she related when I was finished. "What lovely words they are."

"I can write them down for you if you like."

"That might not be a good idea," she pointed out. "If someone got their hands on them, it might cause trouble later. I mean, probably not, but you never know. Let's just allow the song to remain in our heads until Billy Joel gets around to writing it." She was right, of course. Inez, I was learning, had very good instincts on time-travel issues. Then, she had one more point to add.

"You'll just have to keep singing the song to me until I have it memorized," she smiled.

"Sounds good to me."

Inez then switched gears, bringing up something else that she wanted to discuss.

"I want to explain something to you, about why I was so happy to see you dancing like that at the reception, even if it wasn't with me. You know one side of me very well. I'm a rock chick who likes baseball. And that's a very important part of who I am. But I'm also a Puerto Rican girl who likes salsa dancing and hanging out with overbearing friends and family members who speak mostly Spanish. I never before showed that side of me to you. I wasn't sure if you'd accept it. But you did. In fact, you went beyond accepting it. You embraced it with open arms. How can I not love you for that?"

"I found it very, very easy to love that part of you," I assured her. "And speaking of acceptance, you're forgetting something. You accepted something about me, something way out of the ordinary. Something that required a huge leap of faith."

Inez gave me one of her trademark vague smiles before offering up a comment.

"I never thought," she said slyly, "that I'd fall head over heels for a forty-seven-year-old man."

All I could do was laugh in response. But she was just gauging my reaction. In typical Inez fashion, she once again let me off the hook, with a remarkable statement of concisely-expressed perspective.

"You're not forty-seven," she clarified. "You're twenty years old, with some special knowledge, that's all."

"From my point of view, there's another way of looking at it," I said in reply. "Right before I was sent back in time, I never would have believed it, if someone had told me that in a little over three years, I'd be head over heels in love with the hottest twenty-year-old I'd ever seen."

Inez disarmingly averted her eyes downward at that remark, showing a charming degree of modesty. Then, her eyes met mine again.

"Are you happy where you are now?" she wanted to know.

"I'm exactly where I want to be," I told her softly, "and I'm with the person I want to be with. There's no doubt in my mind about that." We moved in close and shared a sweet kiss.

Soon, it was on to another recent topic of concern. Inez mentioned something else that had been hanging in the air.

"I'm wondering about something. What did you really think about the 'Magic Man' thing?"

"Let me put it to you like this," I said with a laugh. "If I hadn't been holding my guitar a certain way, everyone in the whole damn club would have seen what I thought of it."

Inez giggled profusely, as I made one more point.

"Feel free to do that again any time you like," I smiled at her.

"Oh, I have every intention of doing it again," she told me with a suggestive tone in her voice. "Like, at our next show."

By now, breakfast was finished. I took one last piece of cantaloupe between my fingers, and fed it to Inez. She responded by grasping my wrist, and seductively running her tongue along the length of my index finger.

"I have to make sure I get every last drop of the juice, now, don't I?" she told me, her eyes suddenly afire.

And thus did the predictable thing happen. From there, we retreated once again to the bedroom, and didn't come out until mid-afternoon.

Later in the day, we did manage to make it over to practice well ahead of the others. We sat down with Señora Andrade in her kitchen, and had a little chat with her. She saw something in us right away, and her English was plenty good enough to describe it.

"I see two young people in love," she said with a smile.

Inez and I smiled at each other, and then nodded in assent. Inez told the story to her aunt (or rather, parts of it). We sat there and chatted for about an hour, while the others arrived, said hello, and then went down in the basement in advance of practice.

When everyone was downstairs, I turned to Inez and suggested we join our bandmates.

"Let's give them something to talk about."

Both Inez and Señora Andrade laughed at that remark. They, of course, didn't realize that I'd lifted that line from another future song.

My new girlfriend and I went down to join our four bandmates; Mayra and Dennis were in attendance as well. We, of course, decided to ham it up. We walked hand in hand over to the practice area. There, we shared a quick but very conspicuous kiss, in plain view of the six of them, before we separated to tend to our instruments.

Silence reigned for about five seconds, as everyone pretended not to notice. Then, Dave spoke up.

"On the count of three, everyone. One ... two ... three!" And six voices sung out in unison.

"IT'S ABOUT FUCKING TIME!"

A hearty round of applause and laughter ensued. An embarrassed but very happy Inez covered her face with her hands. Quite touched as well, I shot a suspicious grin in Evie's direction.

"Okay," Evie smiled in admission. "So I may have dropped a teeny, little hint."


August 22, 1983

First thing the next morning, the phone rang. It was Eileen.

"Okay, big brother. You've got a lot to tell me. Let's hear it." Even over the phone, I could sense the grin that I was certain she was wearing.

"Before I tell you anything, Eileen, there's something I need to say first. I was kind of rude to you that night when we talked in my car after the show. I owe you an apology for that. And there's another thing, too. What you told me that night ended up giving me a much-needed push. So, thanks for everything. I appreciate it."

"I wasn't the least bit offended," she assured me. "I knew you had a lot on your mind. Really, don't sweat it."

Then, I told her the entire story, or rather, another condensed version of it. It was, however, somewhat less condensed than what we'd shared with Señora Andrade.

"Pat," she told me when I finished, "you know how highly I think of Inez. She is gonna be so good for you. I'm thrilled that you finally came to your senses and realized that."

I, of course, couldn't go into some of the issues that had hindered that process.

"I guess I was the last one to figure that out," I said with a laugh. "But I did, and that's what counts."

"You know what this means," Eileen pointed out. "This Thanksgiving, four out of the six members of our band will be at the dinner table."

I hadn't yet considered that, but was it ever a nice thought.

"What an improvement over last Thanksgiving," I mused out loud. Eileen had something to add to that.

"You know, it was almost exactly a year ago when you and I had that long talk – the one where I told you about my being in the band, and my getting together with Dave. It was right before school started last year. Did you ever think at the time, that a year down the road, we'd be having a conversation like this?"

"Never in a million years," I told her truthfully.

"You've come a long way since then, Pat," my sister told me. "I'm proud of you."

Yet again, I had to fight to maintain my composure. This was getting to be old hat.

We got to talking about this and that. Eventually, a thought came to me.

"Have you said anything to Mom and Dad about Inez?" I asked Eileen.

"Not a word."

"Don't tell them, okay?"

"I won't," she assured me, "but why not?"

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