Double Take
Chapter 14
“Heaven is not as narrowly literal-minded as hell.”
—Poul Anderson, Operation Chaos
FRANCIE WAS ALL OVER ME as soon as we walked in the house. She knocked one of my crutches loose and I almost fell over. She grabbed hold of me and held me up while I regained my balance and kept apologizing over and over.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I just got excited. Don’t be mad at me, Jacob. I’m sorry.” I managed to get upright and clear of her before I hauled off and smacked her on the butt. Her jeans were getting very tight as her stomach began to push outward. She jumped and yelped.
“Go to my room and strip!” I commanded. “You’d better be dripping and ready by the time I get there.” Francie stood up straight with her eyes popped wide open. She didn’t say a thing but turned tail and ran for my bedroom.
“I think she’s reached the ‘horny’ stage of pregnancy,” Em chuckled as she took my case from me so I could more easily move down the hall. “Are you okay? You aren’t really going to hurt her, are you?”
I looked at my sister and saw a real look of concern on her face. I leaned in and kissed her wrinkled forehead and then her lips. She melted into my kiss with a sigh and we pulled apart.
“Have fun. I think I’m going to go spend some quality time with my vibrator.” I playfully swatted her butt and she stopped about three steps down the corridor to wiggle it at me. Then she disappeared into her room and shut the door.
When I got into my room, Francie was sprawled naked on my bed with both hands manipulating her pussy. One finger splooshed invitingly as she thrust it in and out. I watched her as I undressed, her eyes never leaving mine.
“Don’t ever blindside me. Physically or verbally or emotionally,” I said as I stripped off my briefs and my boner popped out. She gasped.
“Fuck me. Please, fuck me,” she begged. I used one crutch to lever myself out of my chair where I’d paused to remove my socks and hobbled over to the bed. I didn’t wait for any preliminaries and she didn’t need any. I fell on top of her and pushed through her wet folds in one long thrust. And then we were off. Francie must have been nearly ready for penetration when she tackled me in the hall. Her channel opened to accommodate me and she started bucking under me.
“Were you horny all day?” I asked. “What set you off?”
“I think I’m exuding a fuckable aura at school thanks to having had you,” she gasped. “I got hit on today. Twice. One was just rude. The other—Don James—came up to me and just lightly put his hand on my tummy.”
“He just assaulted you?” I asked. I was getting mad at that. What did that bastard think he was doing?
“No. It was really sweet. He said he had a real weakness with pregnant women and just wanted to guard and protect them. He said that if I ever needed anything to just call on him. Then he leaned in next to my ear and whispered, ‘I’m kind of jealous of whoever put this in there.’ Then he winked at me and went to class. I started dripping then. I couldn’t wait to get here and have you in me.”
“Me? Or him?”
“He turned me on, okay? We didn’t fuck in the hallway.”
“I bet you would have if he’d offered.” There was another flood of juice around my cock and before Francie could answer, she started coming. As soon as she got through that one, I pulled out. She moaned. “Roll over!” I barked.
“What?” I smacked her butt again, just enough to get her to move. As soon as she was on her stomach, I hauled at her hips to get her ass in the air. It only took one thrust to be in her to the hilt again.
“Ohmygod! Ohmygod! Ohmygod!” she screamed. “Do it! Fuck me. Fuck me harder! I love this!” The volume of her yells was nothing compared to what it mounted up to as I started slamming into her. She was hyperventilating as she gasped out, “Oh yeah oh yeah oh yeah,” and then really screamed. She clamped down on my cock as she came and I forced myself as far into her as I could get and unleashed a torrent. Francie collapsed forward on the bed in a coma.
“Are you okay?” Em said from the doorway. It wasn’t me she was talking to. She rushed to Francie and turned her head out of the pillow so she could breathe. Em scowled back at me as my still-dripping prick was waving above Francie’s butt.
“Oh God. So okay,” Francie mumbled. “I died and went to heaven. I’m never coming back.” Em shook her head and let Francie drop back to sleep. She turned to me and noticed my cock was still mostly erect.
“Pey will be home any time now. You have to keep it quiet in here. My god, I didn’t think it was really possible to fuck a sober woman until she passed out.”
“I think she’s done for the day,” I said. I reached for my cock but Em slapped my hand away.
“Let me,” she said. She blew my socks off when she took me in her mouth and started stroking back and forth. When I was just about there, she popped off and started jacking me like a speed demon. I erupted all over Francie’s back. Em giggled. “Let her clean that up!”
“What’s Francie doing in our shower?” Pey asked when told she needed to use Mom and Dad’s bathroom.
“Um…”
“She got a Coke dumped on her at school,” Em rescued me. “I just got her skirt out of the dryer.”
“Oh.” Pey disappeared into Mom and Dad’s room. I looked at Em and she busted out laughing.
“You need to start earlier or not take as much time,” she laughed.
“I hate to rush her when she’s… you know… like that,” I lamented. When Francie roused herself, she wanted to be held and cuddled. She pressed my hand against her tummy and asked if I could feel the baby yet. It was really sweet and I was a sucker for a pregnant woman, too. I remembered clearly the first time I felt my son kick in his mother’s womb. In the middle of the night. In the middle of my back. Shadows of things to come. Of course, it was too early to feel Francie’s baby. She was only halfway cooked. But holding her like that just made me quiver inside with the memories.
“Hey! You aren’t her baby’s father,” Em said harshly. “It’s okay to cuddle sometimes. I cuddle her, too, but not usually naked.”
“Usually?”
“Never mind.”
“Em? Am I cheating on her? On you?”
“What do you mean? I know about her. She knows I help you out sometimes. And you help me out. I don’t think either of us think of it as cheating.”
“But… There’s this girl at school…”
“Already? Are you kidding me?”
“Well, we’ve just become friends. I’m not really interested in her like that. But… I think she was just trying to give me motivation… She told me yesterday that I had just six weeks to get rid of the crutches and get mobile so I could take her to the winter dance. Like I said, I don’t think she’s interested in romance or anything—I’m not—but we have a lot in common and are going to work on our Human Geography project together. I just don’t want you two to think I’m cheating on you.” I got that all out without Em interrupting. She sighed.
“I’m not your girlfriend,” Francie said from the kitchen door. “I’m your fuck buddy. I’m getting exactly what I want out of our relationship and I don’t want anything more. I love you, Jacob, but we aren’t going to be together much longer. When junior comes along, I’m not going to have time for you.”
“Francie…”
“Get over it, Jacob. Date whomever you like. Fuck whomever you’d like. You aren’t cheating on me. See you at school tomorrow.” Francie grabbed her bag and headed out the door. I turned to my sister.
“Em?”
“I can’t quite say the same thing she did. We can’t ever be together like a boyfriend and girlfriend. You’re my brother. You’ll always be my brother, no matter what else we do or don’t do.” I thought I saw the sparkle of a tear in her eye and reached out to wipe it away. She pressed her cheek into my hand. “I knew you’d be interested in girls your own age and they’d be interested in you. It’s better to start right now so it doesn’t get harder to see in the future. I love you, J. I won’t be as harsh as Francie because I hope you don’t just start fucking around. But no matter who you love, understand this. I will never let you go. Make sure she understands that.”
Interested in girls my own age, I mused as I lay in bed that night. I wondered if I’d ever meet any. There weren’t that many eighty-year-olds hanging around waiting for high school students. If I could come within thirty years, I’d be lucky. Like Doctor Jordan. And she said I needed to wait three years. I wondered if she was serious.
Then there was Ms. Levy. Okay, let’s say within fifty years. Fifty-five? Damn, she made my engine purr. Smart. Delectable. Interesting. I had my cock in my hand stroking to a really nice fantasy of getting her naked and bending her over that cluttered desk of hers.
Then Beca intruded into my thoughts. Like she’d intruded into my space in the cafeteria. I liked her. I thought she was cute. Funny. I noticed my cock flagging. She was fourteen. Nothing there was going to develop unless I could get past looking at her like a little girl. Taking her to the dance would be like taking a granddaughter to a dance.
I remembered dancing with my granddaughter at her wedding. She laid her head on my shoulder as we moved around the floor and I felt an incredible protective urge toward her. But not sexual. I couldn’t even think of her as sexual enough to take a husband to bed. She was my little girl. I wondered if I would ever be able to look at girls my physical age and not think of myself as a pedophile.
My week went well, right up until Friday morning at 7:35 a.m. It was harder work than I anticipated and even having read ahead and finished the Algebra Workbook, I had a lot of studying to do in the library for the hour and a half I was there after gym. Thursday, Francie spent the night ‘with Emily’, though I think my parents had grown suspicious of what might be going on. They didn’t say anything. I was a little tired in the morning and that could explain my reaction.
Ms. Freeman walked by my desk and tossed my workbook on it. I thanked her and then opened it. Every page had a zero drawn on it in the upper right corner. I was thrown by the notation and after the initial shock decided she must have marked the number of errors. I knew I had all the right answers. When the class was over I stopped at her desk.
“Does this mean you’ll help me get into Geometry?” I asked, pointing at the book.
“I think that is highly unlikely for someone who failed every assignment,” she said.
“What? I know every answer in here is correct!” My voice went up a notch in disbelief.
“If you continue to shout, I will refer you to the principal for discipline.”
“Ms. Freeman, why did you mark my workbook as failing. Every page has a zero on it. Even if I ran through the book and guessed at the answers, which I didn’t, the odds of me missing every question would be astronomical.” I tried really hard to keep my voice low and even but I was battling puberty as well and it cracked and went up an octave.
“You wrote in pen. The instructions clearly state that the worksheets are to be completed in pencil.”
“But I got all the answers correct.”
“You can’t expect me to waste time grading a paper that you couldn’t follow directions on. You will have to purchase a new workbook and turn the assignments in as they are due. I will consent to not mark down any assignments completed and resubmitted by their due date. Now don’t you have another class to get to?” Students were filing in for her second period class and I struggled past them into the hall with my crutches, my rolling bookbag, and the workbook. I was going to the office and have this witch of a supposed teacher thrown out on her ass.
Of course, I didn’t have a hall pass and a monitor told me I needed to get to my classroom or I would be counted tardy. He was sure the teacher would excuse it because of my difficulty getting through the crowds on crutches. I went into Health and Wellness but was too steamed to even acknowledge Ms. Garity. One of the other students—a girl, I think—got up and gave me the seat by the door so I could prop my crutches against the wall. I couldn’t focus on the film about the reproductive system. Ms. Garity pretty much only taught by showing films and having us get together in groups to discuss them or handing out a quiz.
I couldn’t risk missing or being late for Human Geography since Beca and I had worked out a plan to ask Mr. Roberts if I could move to the AP group next week. I didn’t think that would work since I’d have to switch Ms. Levy’s class. And I couldn’t miss Ms. Levy’s class. I was just hoping he’d give me a chance to join next semester.
I scooted from there, though, and headed for the principal’s office. I’d never met Mr. Cheney and it looked like I never would.
“Do you have an appointment?” his receptionist asked.
“No. I need to meet with him about one of my classes.”
“Mr. Cheney only meets with students when their parents have been called in for a conference. You can try to get on his schedule but I doubt he’ll have time before the end of the semester. This is a busy time for him. You should make an appointment with your guidance counselor.”
I was getting more pissed by the minute. What kind of fucking operation was this sorry excuse for a school? My memory of school was that the principal’s door was always open to students in need. Of course, in 1952 I couldn’t remember having ever had a full-time guidance counselor.
I went to Mr. Gieseke’s office and had to wait until he was finished with another student before he stuck his head out and looked at me curiously.
“Is there a problem, Mr. Hopkins?”
“Yes, sir. Ms. Freeman just failed me on my entire year’s assignments. I have every question correct.”
“That seems strange,” he said. He looked at his iPhone and then back at me. “I have an opening at two o’clock. I believe you are free then. I’ll see you before the after-school crowd starts descending on me.” He quickly wrote out a permission slip for me to give to Miss Lustig.
I missed lunch and headed to gym. I upped my weight and started to pound out my frustration on the leg press machine.
“Hey! I thought we agreed on weights and reps. This isn’t on your schedule,” Jock said when he saw what I was doing.
“I am a little frustrated and angry,” I said. Sweat was dripping as I strained against the unaccustomed weight. “I needed to burn off some of it before my meeting with Mr. Gieseke.”
“You can’t do that here,” Jock said. “If you reinjure yourself by ignoring your program, we’re liable. Shower up and go to your study hall.”
I almost snapped at him but he was one of the three teachers I’d met who I actually liked and I didn’t want to burn that relationship. I silently grabbed my crutches and spent enough time under a cold shower that the other students started in to shower after their workouts. I dressed and headed to the library. I still had an hour to go before the meeting. I gave Miss Lustig the note from Mr. Gieseke and she nodded. I sat at my carrel and pretended to do something important until it was time to go. Miss Lustig gave me a hall pass and I took off as quickly as I could.
I still had to wait ten minutes until he was free from his prior appointment. Another kid had sat down in the waiting area by the time I went in. He must schedule his appointments ten minutes apart.
“Now, what’s the problem?”
“Ms. Freeman gave me a zero on every assignment because I did them in pen instead of pencil,” I complained. I hated this. I sounded like a whiny teenager. “She didn’t even check the answers. I got every one correct.” He took my workbook and thumbed through it.
“It does say in the instructions to use a number 2 pencil,” he sighed.
“She doesn’t even know how to do the problems she assigns,” I continued. “She reads out of the textbook and then has one of the other students demonstrate the solution. He’s seriously bright and probably shouldn’t be in that class either. But everyone else would fail if he didn’t explain the lessons. She couldn’t pass the final herself.”
“That’s a pretty serious accusation,” he said. “No other student has complained.”
“I doubt if the other students know enough to complain.”
“Jacob, the rules are the rules.”
“But I know the material! Isn’t that what we’re supposed to get out of school?” My voice was rising again. I couldn’t help it. This was just so unfair.
“You’ll need to buy another workbook and complete the work in pencil,” he said. He continued to leaf through the book and shook his head. “This is good work, Jacob. You just need to follow the instructions.”
“She’s going to count everything I’ve done up to now as late and knock the grade down five to fifteen percent. I want to get out of this class.”
“The second workbook is twenty dollars. How soon do you think you can rework all the problems and hand them in to me?”
“You?”
“My bachelor’s degree was in secondary education with an emphasis in math. I just liked counseling better and got my master’s in that. Will it take you more than the weekend?”
“The weekend? Seriously? It’s an entire year’s worth of Algebra.”
“You want to move to Geometry and it is almost too late. I can’t delay your attendance in Algebra unless I have the evidence in my hands at seven thirty-five Monday morning. It’s up to you.”
“I’ll do it. I wasn’t planning to go skiing or anything.”
“Don’t be sarcastic, Jacob. I’m trying to help you.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll complete it.”
“I’ll keep this copy. Let me get you the workbook. I don’t suppose you have twenty dollars with you, do you?” I fished in my wallet and pulled out the twenty I’d brought so I could eat in the cafeteria today. He came back a few minutes later with the workbook and I left.
Em and Francie were waiting outside the office for me.
“Miss Lustig said you were here,” Em said. “Now let’s go home and have some fun.”
“Can’t have fun,” I complained. “I have to complete this whole fucking workbook again. This weekend. God! I hate this fucking bullshit.”
“Shh,” Francie said. “Cuss all you want when we get to the car. If a teacher hears you using that language in school, you’ll get a detention.” I bit my tongue and followed them to the car. Em grabbed my bag so I could move a little faster.
And that is how my weekend went. None of the problems were that difficult but it takes time to work through a hundred and fifty pages of them. And I had to borrow a pencil from Pey. I felt like a second grader.
I’d have really liked to fuck Francie.
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