Another Chance
Chapter 3

Copyright© 2014 by Old Man with a Pen

That's how Grace and I paid for college. The 1954 Derby Superfecta with the time.

Because Daddy didn't tell the bank I wasn't supposed to collect the huge weekly interest now that my deposit had increased, I was collecting three thousand, four hundred fifty-eight dollars and 17 cents each and every week.

Heck ... I was pretty happy with the fifty cents a week I used to get for taking out the garbage.

What the heck, in 1954 I was 12 ... and I'll tell you right now ... I was glad I wasn't old enough to buy a car ... because NEXT year was 1955 and we who lived through that golden age all know what happened to the Auto Industry.

In 1954 ... and for that matter ... until pressure from the Japanese forced Detroit to change it ... next years models came out in September. Sure it was 1954 but Detroit had a way around that... Model Year they called it. Model Year ran from September to September. So we already knew what the 1955 cars were going to look like ... because they were already here.

As far as cool goes, 1955 was Chevrolet's year; Corvette, the BelAir 2 door hardtop, the Delray, the Nomad, and the Suburban all with that nifty little 265 cubic inch V8 that ran rings around the 1955 Ford.

But let us never forget the '55 Ford short narrow pickup ... a true gem.

It was such a gem that Chevrolet brought out the 1956 pickup in 1954 ... at the half year.

The Buick convertible ... absolutely gorgeous, the '55 Caddy ... the Chrysler with the hemi...

Then there was the Studebaker ... long, low slung ... it looked fast standing still ... drool.

I'm not trying to tell you there weren't barkers ... there were ... we who worship Detroit Iron managed to ignore them. Sometimes it wasn't easy. The Rambler ... case in point.

During the parade down US 27-M21 the Indian Summer of 1954, I saw my first Morris Garages MG TF and the absolutely AWSOME Jaguar XK 140

The 140 actually pulled up next to me as I sat car watching on the court house sidewalk steps and the guy driving asked me where Charlie Austin had his Law Offices. All I could was point at our house. I couldn't speak.

I don't think the piece of confection in the passenger seat was his daughter and I was pretty sure she wasn't his wife, but siting where I was, on the top of the stairs, I could see all the way to her navel and the best points in between.

In my last first life Mother told me that a woman who didn't wear a girdle was naked. I was all for naked ... because I was surely looking at heaven. Of course, she caught me looking ... there wasn't any caught about it ... I didn't stop even after I had my first ever spontaneous emission. She noticed.

They pulled around the courthouse and parked on the Front Lawn of One o Five Linden Boulevard ... my house ... and honked. And honked ... and honked until Daddy came out. The girl in the not necessarily clothes shouted, "Charlie!" and slapped a lip lock on him just as the most recent Mrs. Austin walked out on the front porch ... with the most recent edition of CharlieB in her arms.

My ... our ... the wicked stepmother cleared her throat. "Charles ... your friends have woken the baby,"

"Lucy ... meet my ex brother in law ... Vera's brother Harry ... and I don't think I know who this..." he stopped ... a dawning reality flooding his face... "Carole? My God! Carole! Look at you! Good Lord ... you're what? 16?" He mumbled to himself, "Where's David?"

Since the last time Daddy had seen me was while I was car gawking on the steps, he turned, already shouting, "David!"

And of course, I was standing right there ... not even thinking about the stain on shorts ... or the white sauce that was starting to creep from under my shorts. I wasn't thinking ... every time Carole moved, her breasts lagged behind ... just enough to keep my attention. Carole was gorgeous. Carole was absolutely NOT wearing a bra.

Daddy hollered in my ear.

"Oh ... sorry. Where's your sister? Grace! ... Grace!"

The upstairs bedroom window was one of those crank-out windows so popular before the war. Because it was fall and the bugs were dead ... or dormant ... as my grannie was so often telling me ... the window screens on the upstairs bedrooms were already stored in the basement on the nifty rack Daddy built.

Grace had her room on the north side ... because it was cooler ... and my room was on the hotter than hell south end. Decorum was preserved by our own bath between the rooms.

Air circulation was by window fan ... hers sucking in and mine blowing out.

Grace stuck her head out the window ... she was studying ... we were, after all, freshmen in high school ... because I remembered and Grace was smart. We had been jumping grades ever since kindergarten ... which we didn't attend ... well ... not more than two days ... first grade got us first.

"Yes, Daddy?"

"Come down here ... there's someone you need to meet." Daddy hollered back.

"Coming, Daddy."

I knew ... because I'd lived through this twice ... that in 1955, Grace and I would turn 13. Grace would start referring to 'Daddy' as Padre ... as she was extremely proficient in five languages ... thanks to 'Padre's' forethought in hiring foreign nurses.

The best time for a child to learn foreign tongues is before their brain turns five or six. That's because babies make ALL the sounds there are before they start sorting out the sounds they never hear from their parents or care-giver. We had so many foreign language nurses because Daddy hired real babes from a European Nursing Agency and the girls usually got married to an American before their visa ran out.

I couldn't do the language thing because I was born with an old brain ... where else did 'Daddy' come from straight out of the womb? I already knew ... I just had too many people tell me that babies can't do that ... so I didn't.

All this ran amuck in my brain before Grace appeared on the front porch. As Grace was slowly stepping down from the porch I realized ... Grace was growing up. She was 'child' beautiful before ... I know ... I defended her often and oftener. But she was 'shaping up' too. Freshman year was going to be HELL and I knew it.

Harry noticed too. Noticed long enough that Carole slugged him. Hmm. Something?

COUSIN Carole was from the Michigan West coast ... the East side of Lake Michigan. A little town called Pentwater. Grand sand beaches ... huge dunes ... completely dead in the winter.

Daddy owned a vacation home there.

Daddy rented it out every summer because I wasn't welcome there.

UNCLE Harry was from the Michigan East coast ... the West side of Lake Saint Clair. A little town called Mt. Clemens. Harry was OiC ( that's Officer in Charge) of Selfridge AFB. General Bleeker.

This was absolutely NOT like the first life. Harry Bleeker was a pilot shot down over Germany ... the very last operational shoot down before the surrender in 1945. When I knew Harry ... he was an inmate of the Ionia State Hospital for the Criminally Insane. This life he was an Air Force General.

Go figure.

Evidently, Harry Bleeker Sr. had been schooled by several doctors and nurses ... Women die in childbirth. Vera had some defect of skin and-or blood ... or maybe even will to live that killed her. It happens. In 1942, one in a thousand women died in childbirth. Such is death. The living must live with it.

Uncle General had been sent to offer the olive branch.

"We're sorry ... We'd love to see the twins. You come too, Charles. Bring the new wife and little Charlie. We even cleaned your house." Well ... that's what the letter said.

"We'll come in the summer," Daddy said.

That seemed to satisfy Uncle General. The pair, Cousin Carole, and Uncle Harry stayed the weekend. Carole slept with Grace ... Harry got my bed ... I got to camp out in the garage. It was great! It was great because Carole waited for Grace to sleep the sleep of the just and snuck out of the house.

I was very busy. I could see that marvelous womanly body in my mind and I was wearing out my cock.

It's my cock ... I've lived with it for going on 13 years ... it's just a cock. School started on the day after Labor Day ... like it always did ... And I started Freshman classes ... just like millions of Freshmen before me and nobody mentioned it ... much.

Until Gym class ... Imagine my shock ... Gym class was an actual class and it had a locker room. In the Seventh Grade ... at the Junior High ... we didn't have a gym so we didn't have a Gym class. And I had no idea. It's just my dick ... it's Always hung halfway to my knee. But the first after Gym class shower everyone had to take, I found out the rest of the town kids were woefully inadequate.

And it started like you would expect. It's not bullying ... it's a fact of life, Freshman initiation. As far as I knew the cavemen did it. I'm the new kid ... and nobody knows me because I didn't ever have classes with anyone who actually knew me ... and I was small.

I jumped in the shower and got jumped in the shower ... they planned on ridiculing my size up and Down. I soaped up, turned to rinse my back and the combined gasp liked to have blown the doors off the locker room. It was so loud the gym teacher had to see what was happening.

"Jesus, David..." he exclaimed.

"What?" I was looking right him and noticed right away where he was looking. That's when I noticed that the entire class had their cock and balls covered up.

"Christ, kid. You're hung like a horse." Coach said. Gymnastics and track were his extra activities.

"Ah ... it's just a cock ... every guy has one ... no big deal."

"Not like that. I predict you will make some woman ... or women ... very happy. Walking funny but very happy."

The garage side door creaks ... and I dropped my dick ... not that it went anywhere ... nope ... it betrayed me again. Standing up tall and slapping my navel

"Fuck Carole ... you almost made me piss my bed."

"Want some help with that?"

Chapter 4 »

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