Second Chance - Cover

Second Chance

SECOND CHANCE is copyright protected. Any use, including reprints, without specific written permission is forbidden and illegal

Chapter 2

DoOver Sci-fi Sex Story: Chapter 2 - 43 year old Carl watched helplessly as Death came for him in the form of an overloaded produce truck. Suddenly he found himself in the body of a 14 year old boy, injured in the same accident. Now Carl had to learn how to live as Brian and cope with a new life and a loving mother.

Caution: This DoOver Sci-fi Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/Fa   Consensual   Science Fiction   DoOver   Incest   Mother   Son   First   Oral Sex   Anal Sex   Masturbation   Petting  

When you’ve died a lot, you get almost accustomed to waking up in some other body, in another place and at a different time. I KNEW it was me in the body lying on that hospital bed, but I also knew everything else was not me. Rather than babble something that would define me as mentally suspect, I shut my mouth and opened my eyes and ears.

My head was full of all kinds of extra information that had no anchor. It was just there. For instance, I knew that the lovely woman smiling down at me was the Aunt of the young man whose body I was currently using. Her name was – Tara.

Tara was pretty and sexy and kind. She was slender and curvy in all the right ways, with a lithe, energetic way that made it pleasant to look at her. In other circumstances I would be luring her home for a tryst with Jenny. Except for the fact that Jenny was home, Tara would be a perfect diversion for us both. But Jenny was in her home - but not with me, because I was here, sometime in the past from nineteen-sixty nine and not in any shape to lure anyone to a home that isn’t mine any more.

The fact that Tara was in a hospital with me – but not me – and I wasn’t me was confusing enough. The fact that the me that was here had no relationship to the me that was ... not here ... was a good reason to forget about luring her home to be with Jenny. It was also a good reason to stop thinking about Jenny as mine. My Jenny was no longer my Jenny, because I wasn’t the me I used to be. And it had happened all over again.

Jenny was forever in the past of my life that included Colleen, Beth Ann, Rebecca, Winnie, Millie, Clair, Angela, Jennifer and so many others. If the universe dropped me here, then here is where I am. It hurt too much to try and hold old relationships together. I couldn’t imagine trying to get over losing Colleen – AGAIN.

My thanks did go out to the universe for leaving me alive long enough to die a natural death with Jenny and my family. For the first time, ever, I knew what it was like to live a rather normal lifespan. Just that much of a gift gave me hope for the futures that I inherit as my journey goes on.

Tara was speaking when I pulled myself out of my head and into my present.

“Michael. I am here with you. Don’t go away any more. Stay with me...” She was trying to talk me back to alertness, having confused my short attention span for oncoming unconsciousness. She brushed her hand across my face and kept speaking, urging me to try and remain awake.

Her hand felt like a spring breeze as she brushed a stray hair off face. My hormones responded to her kindness and beauty. I felt myself wakening more by the minute and Tara seemed to come alive as I did.

The troubling thing was that even as I accepted my death as Phil Rasmussen and the grief of losing my love and family, I also felt the loss of Michael’s mother, father and brother. Somehow I knew of their deaths and that Michael’s Aunts, Cary and Edwina were both alive and well, waiting at home for news about their nephew. I knew these things about my new body without woolgathering, conversation, or just general, day to day living in Michael’s life. These were things I knew without knowing why. I decided that they were ‘gifts’ given by a grateful universe.

In the back of my mind I could see Tara running through Michael’s home, dressed only in a bath towel, trying to get ready for an interview at school. Her wet hair was flying as she ran by and the towel was flipping around, barely exposing her lovely rear end as she flew by. Tara must have known she was flying the flag, so to speak, because she smiled beautifully at Michael as he looked up and blushed at the unexpected sight. Other memories crowded in including an incomplete vision of being thrown violently out of the station wagon.

Nobody was trying to force me to interact, so I let the memories flood in, filling my head with bits and pieces of Michael’s life. There were no complete sets of memories, just a jumble of things the universe must have thought I would need to cope and complete the next mission on which I was sent.

As the seconds ticked off I was aware of physical healing going on inside Michaels’ body. The pain that was everywhere was steadily receding and being replaced by renewed energy and a feeling of strength and vitality. By the time the door opened and what was obviously a doctor walked in, I was feeling good enough to throw off the sheet and walk out of the hospital.

First I had to convince the doctor.

“How are you, Michael? We haven’t met, because you were unconscious when they brought you in, but I am Doctor Harding. Tell me first – how do you feel?” He poked around as I explained that I felt fine.

“Can you move your arms and legs? Show me how high you can bend your knees...” and we went on like that for about thirty minutes. The doctor checked for every possible malady that could come from an automobile accident such as the one that killed Michael, but finding no injuries to his joints, bones, organs, or brain, I was pronounced fit enough to leave the hospital in three days, as long as Tara promised to bring me to their family doctor within the week for a recheck.

For three days I was watched, pampered and fed. On the third day there were some papers for Tara to sign and we walked out of the hospital to a vehicle that I did not recognize from Michael’s memory. “Where did this car come from, Tara?”

She gave me a very firm look, and said, “The wagon was damaged beyond repair, Michael. The insurance company rented this one for us until the claim is settled. We’ll talk about it when we get home, OK?” She definitely wasn’t looking forward to the conversation we would have when she got us home.

As the scenery slipped by, I asked, “How long was I out?”

Tara’s eyes misted over, no doubt thinking about what she had to tell me about Michael’s parents. “We were hit by the truck on Friday and today is Wednesday. It’s been twelve days.” She wanted to say more but the catch in her throat precluded it.

“Then I guess I missed the funerals, huh...” That would let her know that she didn’t have to break the news to her young nephew and give her a little comfort.

“Oh, Michael ... It was a beautiful day. People from Ed’s job came and it looked like the entire church showed up, with almost the whole neighborhood. I bought plots for them and the rest of us. The insurance company for the truck that hit us already paid for everything. I hope you don’t mind. We can all be buried together that way...” She lapsed into silence and we rode along comfortably, until she turned into their drive. Tara parked the car in the detached garage. The door had been left open for her return.

As alien as I was to this body and life, I knew where I was and how to move about inside the family home. Tara’s sisters, Michael’s aunts followed me down the basement stairs to his room, where I sat down on the bed to think about what was first and what should come next. The universe sent me into Michael’s body to right something that came out wrong. Even with the memories that continued to crowd for space in my head, I knew that I didn’t know what, or who, or how that wrong was to be corrected. There were no signs leading to the problem. My mind was full of Michael’s life but not his trouble.

Giving up on coming to an early knowledge of the trouble, I decided that there was work to do. The family owned a farm and there were things that needed doing and it was Michael’s responsibility to get them done. Though Tara, Edwina and Cary were present, I tossed off the clothes Michael had worn on the day of the accident and dragged on a well-worn pair of Wrangler jeans and a cotton shirt. Once I added the work boots I was ready to work. Then I realized that I had changed in front of three lovely women, all of whom were showing signs of surprise at my familiar behavior.

“I’m sorry...” I said it hesitantly. “I just wasn’t thinking clearly. Please forgive me for my rudeness.”

That simple apology got them all talking. Tara said, “Sweetheart, I know this is all a shock. Don’t even think about it. We know how hurt you are inside and we love you. We’re all we have now and we have to work it out between us.”

Edwina was just as supportive, giving me a strong hug and kiss on the cheek. “Michael. We are here for you, no matter what. Just let us help you and everything will be OK someday soon.” She meant it. Her kind eyes and very slender body spoke to me. Edwina was just filling out her body. At seventeen she had lots of time, but would never look as sweet, fresh and utterly desirable as she on that late summer afternoon.

Cary cried.

Her tears were as beautiful as they were heartbreaking. “I’m so sorry, Michael. I’m so sorry...” I broke free from Edwina and pulled Cary onto my lap. She needed to cry. I let her. Tara and Edwina joined in a group hug and we held Cary until she recovered and wiped her eyes.

The knowledge that the universe put into my head told me what needed done and how to accomplish it all. The healing that took place inside of Michael’s body did the rest. The citrus trees needed care and I gave it to them. The work freed up my mind to try and make sense of all the things that I knew and time to figure out how to deal with all the things I knew that I needed to know.

It was nearly dark when I quit and headed inside.

Tara and Edwina were just finishing up getting a meal on the table. They both looked very glad to see me. Something told me that they really had no idea what to do, or how to do it because Connie took care of telling them everything that needed done. Cary came in while I was washing my hands, arms, face, neck and shoulders. I could hear her ask her sisters if I seemed OK. There was something that had the three of them on edge.

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