Second Chance
Chapter 19

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DoOver Sci-fi Sex Story: Chapter 19 - 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  

Our visit flew by, and before I knew it, Jim and Millie announced that they had to get back to Branson. Colleen said nothing, so I waited for her to tell me what her plans were.

"I think I'll stick around and see what tricks Kevin hasn't taught me, yet," she said with a sneaky smile.

I arranged for their jet to be serviced at my hangar, and made ready to depart by mid-afternoon. I sent Ann Marie into the city for some supplies, and then the four of us sat at the kitchen table discussing our future.

"Jack and Winnie have to be told, but I'm not sure what to tell them." Jim had a point.

"Maybe we should get them together and do like we did when Kevin was John Gray. He had us all come to the Vice President's house, and then just told us." Millie made a lot of sense, as always.

"One way or another, we have to bring them into the picture," is all Colleen said.

We saw Jim and Millie off at the airport, and then took Sammy with us as we drove over into Gatlinburg for lunch at a wonderful steak and chop place, across from the ski slope. The food was delicious. After the meal, we walked around Gatlinburg enjoying the shopping, eating, and activity.

The afternoon sailed away, and as we were driven back to the ranch, Colleen slid her hand inside my slacks and found a very interested, Mr. Johnson at home, and very happy to see her. "You feel ... I don't know ... bigger???" Colleen questioned.

My smile got to her, and she started laughing. "Oh, you are so bad, Mister." She clubbed my arm, and let her hand slide back down underneath my belt buckle, and waistband, holding me until we arrived home. As soon as we were out of the car we ran for the upstairs bedroom.

When we were once again, sated, Colleen stretched like a panther, and said, "I needed time with you, but I am so sorry I didn't have the courage to call and tell you about Rebecca. She abused all kinds of prescription drugs over the last eight years, but I had no clue that she had damaged herself so badly.

"Rebecca tried to get off the drugs, but just couldn't kick them. Finally she told me everything, but only because she needed someone to take her to dialysis." Colleen was hurting telling the story of Rebecca's illness and death, but I was hurting because I was excluded from it. Even as I sympathized, it stung to know that someone that close to me could choose to keep it all a secret.

Back among the living, Sammy decided to show Colleen how to play fetch with a tennis ball. She was entranced until the tenth throw, when Sammy captured the ball and laid down on it, refusing to bring it back. "Congratulations, Colleen. You have now experienced the amazing Sammy, the counting dog. He will not go get that ball ten times in a row. Only nine. Don't even bother to try, because he counts just as well as we do." She giggled and loved on him for a little while, as we enjoyed the sunshine.

The day was gone. We were saying goodbye as she boarded my plane to take her home when Colleen finally explained why she had stayed over after Jim and Millie left. "I'm forty-eight years old. You're sixteen; for the third time at least. We are far too mismatched for this to work out. You already know it, and there's nothing we can do to change it.

"I have to stop being in love with a man so young, I'd get arrested if anyone found out that we were lovers. It doesn't matter that we were married when you were Carl, or that we were long-time lovers when you were President. What matters is that we are thirty-two years apart in age, and if losing Rebecca taught me nothing else, it's that time marches on and leaves us behind if we're not careful.

"I'm going home, Brian. I NEED to go home and figure out how to have a life that doesn't include looking over my shoulder every moment forever. Please don't come after me. I already know I'd cave in and come running into your arms.

"Please love me enough to let me go..."

... and she left.

I was sad, confused, and wanted to sit down and cry. When Jim and Millie exclaimed that they wanted us to be a family again, I was ecstatic and never saw Colleen's request coming. It hit me out of left field, and rather than argue, or beg, I let her go.

If she was that determined, and that sure of her need to keep distance between us, then I HAD to honor her request. Sammy sensed my sadness, and crawled onto my lap for the ride home. He was loving, gentle, kind, and consistent, which was exactly what best treated my broken heart.

The farm seemed empty and quiet when we got home. I hated being cooped up inside, so Sammy and I went for a long walk down through the valley. The evening air was quite cool, and the silence seemed to surround me almost like a healing balm.

More than once I reached for my phone to call someone ... anyone ... but there wasn't anyone to call.

I was back to just me.

The night dragged and it was a relief to fall asleep. The morning brought more of the same, but at least there was twelve hours since Colleen dropped her bombshell. That was a start. Sammy sensed my mood and stayed nearby, giving me little touches of encouragement, and enjoying all the attention I lavished on him in return. Anne Marie was present, but left me completely alone, save for the occasional question about where things were stored, and what I might like for dinner.

I would have lost my mind, or gone all the way over the cliff into depression had the phone not rung.

I didn't recognize the number. "Hello?"

"Kevin. It's Carole. How are you? I haven't heard from you in months, and got a little worried."

"It's good to hear your voice, Carole. I've been on the run for the three, or four months, but I think of you often."

She sounded sad, or troubled. "By the way," I asked. "How is your sister doing?"

"That's kind of why I called. Would you still be willing to ... umm ... you know ... what we talked about ... with her ... my sister ... I mean?" Ah-Ha! Now I knew why she sounded so unsure.

"Carole, I am at my place in North Carolina, near Asheville. Do you want to come here, or do I need to come to you?" If she was that worried, I needed to help anyway I could.

"Christine is pretty weak and traveling might be too much. Is it terrible to ask if you can come here?"

"Nope, I can fly up tomorrow and have a car bring me to wherever you are." She gave me her address. After the call I contacted the pilots and informed my guards. Sammy and I were going on a road trip together.

The night passed and the morning brought with it a sense of purpose. If Colleen needed us to part ways, I completely understood, but I NEEDED to carve out a life that didn't include her, and the rest of my family, to give her the space she begged me for. At least now I was free to go, do, be anything I wanted without false expectations, or hopes.

I really wasn't mad, or even hurt. I was sorry that I caused her so much anguish, and I wished I hadn't called them when I got out of the hospital following the assassination. The problem with that thinking was that it was a dead end street, and I needed to move on.

Carole was waiting when we arrived. She walked to the car to greet me, full of nervous energy and unfocused anxiety. I hugged her, introduced Sammy, and let her lead us inside. Carole had come to me each time, so I'd never seen her home, or met her sister, Christine.

Carole introduced me to Christine in her bedroom, which was dark, warm, and very depressing. She was thin, pale, and seemed terribly frightened. Looking her over I saw a woman of about twenty-seven, who was once very pretty. The ravages of her illness had taken away most of her beauty, even though it left an echo in her eyes.

 
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