Second Chance - Cover

Second Chance

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

Chapter 7

DoOver Sci-fi Sex Story: Chapter 7 - 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  

Becca was ecstatic to find their home in one piece, not looted, burned, or taken over by any roving bad guys. Yvonne didn’t say one way, or the other. She crawled out of the van, waved over her shoulder, and sprinted for the safety of her house. I could hear the door locks snapping into place. She was seriously scared, badly scarred emotionally, and most likely not going to recover any time soon, if ever. When I climbed back into the truck I could see Judy’s look of consternation, and Cheryl’s shrug of frustration.

It was time to get my classmates and teachers home.

The trip was completely uneventful. There was very little traffic, especially once we were away from the Research Triangle. The interstate was a pleasant surprise, and we made it to Greenville in less than ninety minutes. As we pulled up in front of the school we were welcomed by a small flotilla of cars. It seemed like every one of the girls had spent the trip on the phone with loved ones, and their families rushed to school to meet them.

I stood off to the side and watched the love fest. Parents cried. Girls screamed and ran into their fathers’ and mothers’ arms, and as fast as possible, they all rushed home to get reacquainted. Judy carried things to her car, and Cheryl did likewise. When they were ready to pull out we all three hugged, promising to pick up where we’d left off, under less stressful conditions.

Just like that, I was alone.

How is it that when these things end, I always end up with great memories, and no loved ones? After all the noise and excitement, I knew it was time to find Tommy’s car and go find his home. I knew from his wallet and keys what to expect, and there were only three vehicles in the school parking lot.

One was a box truck – not mine. I only rented it and would have to find out if the motel manager survived and if so, get it back to him, soon.

The second vehicle was a rental van that had to go back to Enterprise. That was going to be a really big bill.

The last vehicle was a newer model, Toyota mini-van. It was covered in dust and dirt, because it has sat in that spot for months, but the electronic locks worked when I pushed the unlock button, and the battery turned over, so it must be the one that would take me to my new home...

... which turned out to be quite nice, undamaged, in good shape, and when I let myself in, I found the power, water and gas were still on. That meant the hot water tank was functioning and would provide me with a hot shower, the fridge was working and between the groceries left from the cave and the few essentials I picked upon the way in, assured me that I would have a good meal, to go with my hot shower, and – I hoped – a clean, soft, bed to sleep in.

It was late afternoon after the shower revived me. I’d felt a little tired by the time I’d found my home. The TV provided very little in the way of news, and rather than take a nap, I decided to search the house and see what Tommy had left for me when he left his body.

The kitchen was standard upper middle class. The appliances were newer and high end. The sinks were built-in to the marble counter tops, and very well installed. Off the kitchen, in an alcove, I found a sixty gallon hot water heater and it was working just fine. The washer and dryer were expensive and front loading.

All in all, it was a good set up.

The living room was a bit stuffy for my taste, and the dust had settled everywhere since Tommy left for school that fateful day. It was obvious that I’d be busy getting things ship shape for the next week. There was a very comfortable looking den, with overstuffed, leather sofa, loveseat and matching recliners. The TV was humongous and it was one of the new theater quality sets.

Tommy must have been reluctant to take over the master bedroom. It was clearly unused and maybe a bit of a memorial to his family. That’s where I decided to settle. The bed was new enough to be very comfortable, memory foam, and felt like a glove holding me when I tested it. The master closets were huge, as was the master bath. The combo tub and spa looked very inviting and might be where I spent the evening once moving in was accomplished.

The master bedroom closets were divided into His and Hers. Tommy’s father had some very fine clothes, none of which could I wear. He must have been a big fellow. In the Her side I discovered that Tommy’s mom must have been a big girl, as everything was size twenty-six and up. It took a few minutes to load it all into a wheelbarrow that I brought out of the garage, and dump it all in the back of the van for delivery to Good Will.

Tommy’s sister wasn’t nearly as big as her mother, but tiny would not have described her. Her clothes were modern, chic, and expensive. Her drawers and closets were easy to empty, so I did. The clothing in Tommy’s room was nice, but not my style. Someone’s wardrobe was about to be seriously upgraded. The furniture was just as high quality as the rest of the house, but the master bedroom was for me. I could see Judy and Cheryl easily losing their poise on that mattress.

It took a couple of hours to move myself in and by then I was hungry. Without any idea how things were in the town, I was armed and ready to defend myself and the van, should anyone take exception to my transportation, but when I rode through the downtown areas, I ran into lots of people out and about, but no trouble. There were a number of open restaurants near the big hospital, and I chose one and ate like a pig. It was a nice change to have a meal I didn’t have to make a fire to enjoy. Though I was trying to subtly find out how things were in Greenville, my trip produced nothing except a reasonably, good meal.

As I drove home to Tommy’s house, I passed a mall, and pulled in on the spur of the moment. There was an open parking spot very near the food court, and I discovered that people really were finding their way to normalcy after losing a huge portion of their population. Stores were mostly open, though there were some bare stalls. Greenville had a good men’s store and I spent a lot of money buying things that I wanted to wear, instead of whatever Tommy had available. The trip home was quick and easy. The GPS guided me straight to the door, and the garage opened when I tapped the button. Inside the garage was an empty space where Tommy’s parents once parked. The accident would have permanently retired whatever car once resided there.

Someone must have kept the lawn tended, and brought in the mail, because there was a big pile of it on the desk at the side of the kitchen. There had to be bills overdue and things that needed attention, so I took it all into the office that I found, off the den, and began to sort and separate it into manageable stacks. As I completed the task of separating it, I came across a package of documents from a local law firm, and decided to start reading with that.

I’m glad I did.

It seems that Tommy’s parents were killed by a vehicle owned by a local oil company and driven by a recidivist drunk driver. The driver was charged and convicted of multiple counts vehicular homicide, while intoxicated, and sent away for a very lengthy stay at the state’s expense. The oil company had settled with Tommy’s family attorneys to the tune of fourteen million dollars, plus all legal fees, and according to the package, the funds were safely deposited with the family financial guru, who was with Wells Fargo Advisors. The enclosed statements indicated that the fourteen million was earning approximately forty-nine thousand dollars a month, after fees and taxes.

It was clear that I’d have to find someone who could do better.

However...

Fourteen million was a good number to tide me over while I got this life sorted out.

So...

There you go.

Among the less thrilling mail, I discovered paid receipts for funeral expenses, burial, and headstones for the family, and lots of solicitations for everything from Viagra to AARP. The bulk of the mail went in the garbage. The bills went into a file folder to be paid within twenty-four hours. The personal mail needed more time than I was going to give it, so it stayed right where it was for the night. The saddest thing about four months of mail was that Tommy did not receive a single piece of mail that was personal. It was all generic.

After a long, hot shower, the bed called me like a lover, and I slipped off to sleep within ten minutes of lying down.

The first morning living Tommy’s life in his house was unremarkable. Breakfast was ... well ... breakfast, and once I finished taking care of the mundane tasks, catching up payments, and obligations, I decided to take a ride around Greenville, and see what there was to see. It didn’t take long to realize that after the university, East Carolina, and the hospital that ate Greenville, there were no sights.

‘I’m not staying here,’ was my decision. Living in a college town, where I knew no one, and could be caught out as an imposter in Tommy’s body at any moment, had no attraction for me. The easy thing to do was pack a bag and hit the road...

... which I did.

I hit the road straight towards the mountains we’d just left, looking for something – anything – to take my mind off of how alone I was. As the van ate up the miles towards Gatlinburg, my mind drifted over the sudden obsession with being far from Tommy’s home and hometown. With no one holding me back, and nothing but trouble if I stayed, it made perfect sense to run for the hills. The fact that I was running from my own loneliness and not fear of discovery was a distant second on my mind. I’d run before, and it usually ended in something interesting...

... like getting shot.

Financially I was in great shape. No mortgage, no bills, other than power, light, insurance and taxes. Everyone has those bills, but Tommy, or someone, arranged all of that to automatically come out of the bank, right on time, every time. As much as Judy and Cheryl entertained me, they could never take the chance being seen with me back in Greenville. The girls would keep their mouths shut, or have to admit that they had all warmed my bed over the last few months. Reticence to talk about their sexual hijinks was seriously good incentive to leave ours alone.

Once I hit Interstate Forty, and cities in Tennessee started to show up on mileage signs, I had decided to drive straight through to Gatlinburg. It was a good drive, but not terribly long. Gas was plentiful, and I stopped to fill up some place near Greensboro. Supper was a mom and pop near Sparta, and in Gatlinburg, I found a nice suite on top of the mountain, across from the ski lift.

The suite came with a fully functional hot tub, and I spent two hours blissfully floating in the dark, before drifting off to sleep and for a change, resting beautifully. It was a nice change. There were no middle-of-the-night, reconnaissance missions, looking and listening for rapists, murderers, and psychos. I’d guess they were all hiding, fearing the wrath of those they violated, like the ones I planted on the hill, back near the cave.

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