Double Take
Chapter 9
“The purpose of our lives is for us to give purpose to our lives.”
—James Burt, The Wisdom of Rotary Flight
“DID I WAKE YOU UP?” I finally asked.
“No. I just finished getting ready for bed. It’s okay.”
“Did you have a good date?” I really hoped she had something that made her happy when she was so good at comforting me. She sighed.
“We had fun at the dance. I think I’m going to break up with Robbie, though. He just doesn’t do it for me?”
“Is he being a jerk?” I demanded, bristling. I was going to have some work to do when I got healthy.
“No! Relax. He’s a perfect gentleman. He really tries hard. That’s why it’s so hard to break up. He hasn’t done anything wrong.”
“Then what?”
She pulled back enough to look me in the eye. My cheek rubbed against her soft breast and I inhaled her sweet scent.
“He can’t get me off,” she finally admitted. “He tries. He kisses. He pets. He does all the right things. But when his hand is finally in my panties, nothing happens. I faked it tonight just so he’d quit rubbing. Then I sucked him off and he brought me home. I know he wants to go all the way but my heart’s just not into it.”
“I’m sorry, Em. You deserve to be happy. If he doesn’t contribute to that, then you don’t really have much choice. Find someone who does.”
“Easy to say. One of the reasons I’ve stayed with Robbie so long is… Well, you’ll see once you get into school. By the time you’re a senior, you’ll see all the desperate kids trying to hook up. Some just want a quick fuck but most are scared. They’re going to graduate and do service and try to find a job or go to college. All they can see is that life as they know it is coming to an end and they don’t have everything figured out. They see all the possibilities of high school ending and they haven’t met the love of their life.”
“Is that what you want, Em?”
“Yeah. Of course. I keep thinking Robbie’s a nice guy. He’s got good prospects. We could probably manage to stay together for the next couple of years and to go to the same college maybe. Then I think of my dry pussy.”
“Your guy should make you wet. Even I know that,” I said. I shifted my head a little against her breast and felt her nipple against my cheek. I stroked my hand up and down her back. “I can’t tell you how good it feels to have some mobility back in my arms,” I said. “You’ve been so good to me since I woke up and I couldn’t even hug you.”
“That feels nice.” We lay there like that quietly for a few minutes. I kneaded her shoulders when my hand got that high on her back. Her little shifts and my own head movements kept her nipples stimulated and I started getting hard. I finally mustered up all my courage and caught the little hard point beneath her shirt between my lips. She gasped a little but instead of pushing me away, she held my head against her. I nursed the little nub through her nightshirt and her breathing sped up.
“J? Remember when you said you’d pay me back when you got out of your casts?” she whispered. Pay her back? Oh, God! For the hand job and blowjob. Was she…?
“Any time, Em. You were so good to me. I’ll repay you any time.”
She pushed my hand down from her back to her thigh and I stroked up under her T-shirt and across her ass. She wasn’t wearing panties.
“Maybe we should take our shirts off,” I suggested.
“I’d be… naked. You won’t try… to fuck me, will you? I really want to get off but I don’t want you to do that. Promise?”
“I promise. I’m so weak you could probably give me a good shove and I’d fall out of bed and break another arm if I got out of control.”
“You have a third arm?” she giggled. “Or is that what you call this monster?” She reached down between us and gave my cock a long gentle stroke.
“I’ll… keep it in my pants,” I said.
“Yeah. For now.” She shifted and the T-shirt she was wearing came up over her head and off. I was face-to-nipple with her perfect breast. I reached out to lick it softly. “Wait!” she commanded. I jerked back. “Your shirt, too. That was the deal.” It took a little more shifting and her help before I managed to get my shirt off. She had to help feed my arms through the sleeves and then get it over my head. I still couldn’t raise my arms that far. But once it was off she pulled me to her and our chests come together. I lifted my lips to kiss her.
“Yuck, no,” she laughed. “Nothing like kissing your brother.”
“But… I’m… We’re…”
“You’re going to put your fingers in me and suck on my nips until I come. I’m going to close my eyes and pretend you’re Logan Lerman.” I had no idea who that was; figured he must be somebody at school she had a crush on. Oh well. Whatever she needed. My sister was stretched out naked beside me and I had full access to this beautiful body.
Since she’d forbidden kissing on the lips, I went to the next best thing and started kissing down her neck and collar bone. I trailed my hand from her ear down across her shoulder and all the way down her arm. As I continued kissing my way down, I brought my hand up along the inside of her arm, touching her side and brushing against her breast.
She shifted and rolled to her back, spreading her legs slightly as I circled her nipple with my tongue and then held that breast in my hand as I kissed my way to the other. She whined and opened her legs farther, even though I wasn’t close to touching her there. I hoped she wouldn’t rush me to the main event. I wanted to touch and taste every curve of her body. That was going to be a challenge since I couldn’t really support my weight on my arms so I was limited to lying beside her. She kept a solid grip on my right hand between us while my left started stroking from her beautiful breasts to her navel and back. Her hips bumped up a bit.
I found the spot on her stomach over her ovaries that I’d learned in my past life was sensitive on many women. I wanted to kiss her there but I couldn’t shift my body around like that. I had to be content with continuing to suck her nipples and let my hand take care of the stimulation.
I guessed my sister was a generous B-cup, but that was a measure I learned from StoriesOnline. What I knew for a fact was that they were round and soft but firm enough not to flop around. The darker areolae were barely larger than the nipple that hardened and extended to meet my questing lips. Em had a flat stomach that contracted when I rubbed it as if she was trying to get my hand closer to the ovaries it hovered over. Or that she’d forgotten she wasn’t wearing pants and wanted to give me better access to the treasures they’d contain.
Eventually, my hand found its way to her sparse pubic hair. Like Francie, she shaved the lower lips but left a full tuft above her slit. She must have shaved before her date since what I found was slick and smooth. I caressed lightly over her lips and her pelvis rocked gently back and forth against the palm of my hand. I slid my finger back and forth along the rapidly lubricating slit and she began to unfurl. Soon, I was sliding between her inner lips and she was panting. I gathered enough of the lubrication to be sure my finger wouldn’t irritate her as I stroked up her length and found the hard little nub of her clit. I traced along its sides and under, not applying pressure directly to it, and felt her breath coming in little gasps. Laying a finger on either side of the pea-sized button, I began pulsing my fingers, pinching and releasing.
Em snatched the pillow out from under my head and pressed it against her mouth as she whined out an orgasm. I lightened my touch a little while she caught her breath.
“Oh, God! That was good,” she said through the muffling of the pillow. I licked up her neck to her ear.
“It’s not over yet,” I whispered. She shuddered and I pressed my fingers more firmly against her button as they slid down to her sopping opening. I didn’t start with just one but slid two directly into her vagina, searching for the hotspot just behind the urethra as my fingers pumped in and out of her. I returned my attention to her nipples with my mouth, sucking first one and then the other as I lashed them with my tongue.
I could tell when she was about there again because the grip on my other hand tightened painfully. I scraped my fingers up along the front of her vagina and began pulsing them up and down, thankful for all the rubber ball work Molly had forced on me this past week. My arms were weak but my fingers were strong.
This time the pillow barely muffled the screech Em emitted as her hips bucked up off the bed to meet my fingers’ thrusts.
She flung the pillow half way across the room and rolled toward me, trapping my fingers in her cunt. Her hand wrapped around the back of my head and she pulled my face to her lips and began frantically kissing me. After several stabs, her lips landed on mine and her tongue met its match. We drank from each other’s lips with fervor I couldn’t remember. In this body, my only frame of reference for kissing was Francie and this was so much better. Kissing my sister, indeed. I think she was the sexiest woman I’d ever met.
Eventually, my arms just collapsed on me and I rolled to my back, pulling free of the death grip her pussy had on my fingers. Em followed me, her one hand still holding mine between us. Her other stroked my face.
“Never let you go. I won’t let go,” she repeated again and again. She threw her leg over mine. “Not too much pressure is it, J?”
“I wouldn’t complain if you were lying on top of me, Em.”
“I might. Sometime. No wonder you were falling in love with me. If what I did to you felt anything like what you just did… I can feel you. You’re pulsing.” She pressed her hand beneath the waistband of my pajamas and found my cock. She smeared the precome from the head down along the shaft. No lotion was needed tonight. I groaned.
Em returned to my lips and kissed me as she stroked me to a powerful climax. I didn’t dare say anything. The only words I could think were “I love you” and that had ended our last time together.
“I’ve been jealous of Francine,” Em whispered. We’d scarcely moved in ten minutes and I thought she’d gone to sleep. Her hand still held my softened cock. I decided it was better to let her go on without interrupting her. Sometimes, the best action is inaction. Jealous of Francie? “I know, I suggested that you had a need and she might fill it. I had no idea that you’d be filling her, too. I treated her badly because she was just a surrogate for what I wanted to do. Now she says she’s going to fuck you and I can hardly stand it. But why wouldn’t you fuck her? She’s available and I’m… your sister. Why is life so unfair?”
“If you don’t want me to, I won’t,” I said. I raised my hand to smooth her hair and caught the scent of my sister lingering on my fingers. I brought them to my mouth and licked them thoroughly. “You taste good.” She bit my shoulder. I could still feel the heat of her sex above our clasped hands. I wiped my hand on the sheet and continued my quest to pet her hair.
“I… There’s no reason not to if you like her. But… J, don’t fall in love with her. Please?”
“I wish I knew how to not be in love,” I sighed. “Maybe I wouldn’t be so crazy about you.”
“But there’s no future with Francine. You’re fifteen and she’s nearly eighteen and nearly a mother,” she protested.
“Tell me there’s a future with you, Em,” I said hotly. “Tell me what you mean when you say you won’t let go. Because… I can’t let go.”
“I just want you safe. And alive. J, I almost followed you in front of that bus. I couldn’t imagine living without you.”
“I’m not going to die, Em. Not now. Not as long as I have you to hold on to.”
“Don’t make love to Francine,” she whispered. “Not yet. Give me a few days. A few days to come to grips with it or to…”
“I’d rather it was you,” I whispered in her ear. The kiss she gave me this time was not frantic and passionate, but held the depth of her love for me. I knew it deep down inside. She loved me as much as I’d come to love her. “Don’t let go.”
“I won’t.”
The weekend was filled with new experiences. I counted everything that I could do in this V3 body as new. I’d kissed and fingered my beloved sister. My dad brought an assortment of long elastic bands and wrist and ankle weights that I had to use almost constantly. I still couldn’t really walk because I didn’t have enough strength in my arms to use a walker or crutches. I needed help getting in and out of my bed but was close to getting myself on the toilet. I could dress myself as long as the clothes I chose were loose and easy to pull on.
Sunday morning, after waffles for breakfast, we packed up and went to church. It was easier to maneuver my chair into the van now but I was still glad I had a safety belt in my chair when Dad hauled it backward up the ramp. It always felt like I was going to pitch forward out of it. I still sat in the front ‘handicapped’ row with Em. I was a little more confident about talking to Pastor Bob after the service this time, too.
I guess that one of the side effects of having V1 in me was that I had a greater appreciation for the preacher who delivered the sermon. I’m not a great Bible scholar and that wouldn’t help with this preacher anyway. He seldom mentioned the Bible directly but preached very humanistic sermons. They were the kind of thing you could evaluate against your own life and make a decision on.
“Why are we here?” he asked from the pulpit. “I expect there are as many answers to that question as there are people in the congregation. You might be saying ‘I’m here because my parents made me,’ but that’s not what I’m talking about and you know it,” he said, staring me directly in the eye. The congregation laughed. “No. I’m talking about our purpose on earth. And even that will have a huge number of answers as we consider responsibility, love, career, survival, depression, carnality, and even the random choices of the universe. Let me give you this thought to ponder. I believe that every human being born on this planet—perhaps every living being—has something unique within him or her to contribute to the betterment of our world. That is not as easy an answer as saying that God put us here to save souls. I won’t speak against that but I sometimes wonder if the salvation that is offered makes the world a better place or merely offers an escape route from our responsibility. That is an individual choice. But so, too, is the unique element in us that we have to contribute to the betterment of our world. Perhaps that thing is rising to leadership to guide our country on a better path. Perhaps it is standing between the downtrodden and the powerful. Perhaps it is penning a simple poem, taking a photograph, making a friend, or raising a healthy family. I invite you, as we close this service, to ponder your own life and seek to discover the answer. Why are you here?”
That gave me a lot to think about. I wasn’t even supposed to be here. I was transplanted from one reality and timeline to another. My fourteen-year-old self in this timeline had killed himself. Em had confessed, early Saturday morning as we lay together in bed, that she might have killed herself if V2 had been successful. Perhaps the reason I was here was merely to save her. Or maybe there was some other purpose. Maybe I’d try my hand at writing poetry.
“Francie, I’m not ready for that,” I pled. She’d already stripped and helped me out of my chair and into bed. She was tugging at my clothes and my traitorous cock was already pointing at the sky. Francie wanted to fuck.
“We don’t even need a condom,” she declared. “I’m already pregnant so you can’t knock me up. The doctor gave me all kinds of tests to be sure I had no STDs that could be passed on to the peapod. You’re a virgin, so it’s pretty unlikely you could pass something to me. I want you, Jacob.”
“I want you, too, Francie. I’m just asking for a little time. When we make love, I want to be an active part. I still don’t have enough strength in my arms to hold myself up for any period. That means you’d do all the driving and I’d just lie back here passively letting you fuck me. That’s not what I want for my first time.”
Molly had been pleased with the progress I’d made over the weekend but by the time she was finished with me Monday, my arms were like jelly. There was no way I could get on top of Francie and hold myself up while I pumped into her. The very thought of which caused a big drop of precome to gather at the tip of my cock.
“Oh, damn, Jacob. I didn’t mean to just run over you. It never occurred to me that a fifteen-year-old boy would want to wait when a wet and willing pussy was offered to him. I guess I understand.”
“Hey, it doesn’t mean that I’m not as horny as you are,” I laughed. “Just that for today, I’d rather eat at the Y than fuck it.”
“That’s good with me. You do have a way with your tongue.”
“And I don’t mind being on the bottom for that,” I said. “First, though, come here and lie down beside me. I want to kiss you and show you how I can move my fingers when I take hold of your breasts.”
“Oh, Jacob. Oh, yes.”
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