Double Take
Chapter 22
“The most important thing you can ever know, is that whatever your purpose is, that’s not your only choice.”
—Dan Wells, Partials
THE HOLIDAY was a welcome break. I really didn’t understand the dynamic of any of the girls who seemed to have attached themselves to me. Monday and Tuesday, the last two days before break, were stressful. Joan toned down the slut look a little from her normal Monday look but still drew a lot of attention. This time, though, when guys came by to hit on her, she just said, “It’s Christmas. I’m taking the week off.”
The surprise to me was even Rebeca was getting hit on. Apparently, guys had seen something at the dance that they liked. She wedged herself between Joan and me so she was protected from both sides as she exasperatedly told guys that she had a boyfriend and to leave her alone. There was a barely suppressed sneer when they looked at me. I was ready to give a couple of guys a real pounding. Of course, in my current state I would have been the poundee rather than the pounder. I needed to get fit faster.
I think Rachel was used to turning guys down. She’d just flick her fingers and say, “Sorry. I have to take care of the overflow for Beca. There’s too much man here for just one woman.” Well, flattery will get you everywhere. When it came down to it, I was all too happy to give Rachel my overflow.
I felt very protective toward Beca. I was frankly relieved that she was a lesbian and had no sexual interest in me. I just wanted to take care of her. I said something about her being like a little sister but it was really more like she was my daughter or granddaughter. She was too young to be making a play for even another girl and I was glad she was back to her comfortable flannel-clad self.
Joan was a slut. She disgusted me. V1 kept shouting in my head, Kids in America have no sense of morals. They have no discipline. Men don’t respect women because they act like sluts. V2 would have wanted in her panties if he’d been self-aware enough to notice her. V3 tried to shut up the memories of both my former selves. Joan wasn’t the only girl in school who dressed in sexy clothes. On a continuous basis, Rachel wore dresses or short skirts more often than she wore slacks or jeans. I couldn’t look at her without getting a hard-on. Joan just seemed lost—maybe rudderless would be a good way to describe her. And while she tried to be sexy and suggestive toward me, she snapped to attention whenever Beca spoke to her.
Then there was Rachel. She was the only girl I’d actually met who made me feel like a fifteen-year-old in utter lust with a girl for the first time. I had no thoughts of her as younger than me. And she fueled the fire. While Rebeca and Joan wedged in on my right, Rachel sat as close to me as humanly possible on my left. It seemed like she always had a hand on my leg and it was easy for me to slip my arm around her and touch her bare skin in the gap between her waistband and her shirt hem. I wondered for the hundredth time what it would be like to make love to her.
But when we parted on Tuesday afternoon, I knew I wouldn’t see any of the girls for two weeks. We’d be back in school on Wednesday January second. I needed to get my head on straight by then.
In Francie’s opinion, the best way to get my head on straight was to get my cock straight in. But opportunities were few and far between. Em had her National Service Exam on Wednesday and I sat home with Pey and played games. She even helped me exercise some and we went outside for a somewhat treacherous walk. Saturday, Mom and Dad took Pey to see the Nutcracker ballet at the University. I wasn’t really interested in seeing it and Em said she had plans to see Tony and Bill. It didn’t surprise me that much when as soon as the door closed behind everyone, it opened to Francie.
We hadn’t had time together for almost two weeks and were both on edge. It was nice that we had about three hours, so even though we stripped and banged as quickly as we could, we then spent a couple of hours just lazily fucking with each other.
“I think I’ll name the little peapod Jacob,” she laughed as I rubbed some lotion into her tummy. At six months, there was a bit of stretching going on and she moaned as I caressed her stomach and breasts. The moans might have been because I was licking her at the same time. My head came up suddenly. “Don’t stop!”
“Why would you name your little girl Jacob?” I said. “That seems awfully cruel.”
“Don’t call him a little girl. I’ve seen the ultrasound. He either has a cock between his legs or the world’s biggest clit. Besides, a lot more of your sperm has been splashed up there with him than his bio-dad’s. It just seems appropriate,” she said. It started getting difficult for her to talk when I found just the right combination of tongue on her clit and fingers in her pussy and ass. When she’d had her climax, I crawled up beside her and kissed her.
“You’re not serious, are you?” I said.
“No. Of course not. I don’t want anybody to link us any more than they already have. I can’t believe Rachel put the make on you based on my smiles. We’re not even going to be able to keep doing this much longer. I just wanted you to know that I’m fond of you and in a different world, I would definitely want you to father my children.”
“I’m fond of you, too, Francie.”
That was another crazy thing about my relationships. I had no problem fucking Francie and even though she was only seventeen, I didn’t have the same guilty response from lusting after her that I did with most girls our age. I guess it was partly because she was pregnant and a pregnant woman is a woman, not a girl. Right? Besides, Francie had come to me when I was wrapped in plaster and I couldn’t have stopped her if I tried. Which I didn’t. But I was vulnerable and she answered a very pressing need. Sometimes my head ached from trying to figure out and justify my actions. I wondered if I would ever get used to being fifteen again.
“We need to try some new positions,” she said abruptly. “I’ll bring some things over if we can get time together next week.”
“Found something interesting in the Kama Sutra?”
“I’m only about halfway through. It’s a really big book and I don’t have time to practice everything in it. After I’m done with my service, I’ll try to find someone who can practice with me.”
“When do you plan your service?” It was still a strange concept to me.
“I don’t turn eighteen until the end of April, so I can spend most of the first year of the peapod’s life with him. I don’t have a concern about timing my service with college start dates or anything. Once I get out, all I want to do is find a nice guy and settle down. Maybe pop out a couple more kids.”
“So, about the time you are getting out of service, I’ll be going in. Man, life is strange.”
Christmas Eve, the family went to church. V1 always liked the Christmas Eve services. Later in my life I quit going to Christmas and Easter services because they made me cry and I didn’t need that kind of shit. But the music was good and there was always something about the ritual and production of it that attracted me.
I wasn’t disappointed. There was a cantata sung by the choir interspersed with readings from a newer translation of the Bible. The prophecies and then the birth. Most services I’d attended ended with the birth and angels singing ‘Glory to God in the Highest’ and all that. It looked the same for this service right up to the point where we lit candles and sang ‘Silent Night.’ Then there was one more reading. The minister chose to close the service as the lights in the sanctuary gradually came up.
In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things were created through Him, and without Him nothing was created that was created. In Him was life, and the life was the light of mankind. The light shines in darkness, but the darkness has not overcome it.
With the sanctuary fully and brightly lit, the candles were extinguished and didn’t make a difference in the light. I was really moved and fished in my pocket for the five dollars I brought along. But that was the end of the service. There was no offering.
“Dad?” I whispered. “Where do we put our offerings?” I held up the bill. Dad pushed it down.
“Son, we’re members. We pay our dues.”
What? I’d honestly never heard of a church that didn’t ask for money in the service. I tried to think back on the Sunday worship services I’d been to since waking up and couldn’t remember an offering being taken. I kept my mouth shut and resolved to do some more research.
It’s very difficult to find something in a search engine when it doesn’t exist. ‘Offering’ was a term defined in an Old Testament sense. I had to go back in history to find out anything logical about it. The founding of America. In England, the nobility owned the land. All of it. All except the land owned by the church. Sure there were a number of freeholders in different regions, but for the most part the land, the money, and the power in the country were in the hands of the lords and the priests.
The great migration to America was to escape both. So when nobility attempted to establish itself in the colonies, it was firmly rejected except in the South where vast tracts of land were claimed and slaves were brought in to work it. The church as a special kind of nobility was flatly rejected. Nothing wrong with being a church, but by the time the Constitution was written, churches were classified the same as any other organization, corporation, or association. They had no tax exemptions. They were funded by investment and taxed the same as any other corporation.
V1 had often grumbled in later years about the major influence of the religious right on American politics. It was the era of megachurches and preachers getting rich from the donations of the poor. That was something that had changed in this V3 reality. And it was going to take some time before I could figure out what the implications were. American government was no more influenced by the religious right than by any other corporate entity.
Since churches were funded by a non-deductible membership fee plus their investments and businesses, there weren’t many big non-denominational churches that wielded power under a tax-exempt umbrella. A church that charged a high price for membership had to provide a service to its members they couldn’t get elsewhere. It made it more difficult to talk people out of their money for a raise in the preacher’s salary. Churches that offered social services—like food shelves and homeless shelters—could apply for government grants to fund the work.
I slept in on Christmas morning after having spent most of the night searching for meaning. On the surface it sounded like a good thing and was consistent with V1’s complaints. But the reality felt like something very different. I needed to get a grip on it.
I looked out the window at the snow as I did exercises. We’d gotten about three inches on Christmas and I was frustrated that I couldn’t do more walking than up and down the hall. It was just too dangerous to go walking with my cane out in the snow. I was getting pretty stable but one slip could have me back in a cast or worse.
“Why so blue, Jakey?” Mom asked. “Didn’t like your Christmas presents?”
“Oh, no, Mom,” I said. “I love the fact that you got me guitar lessons.”
“Well, I talked to Vinnie down at the Guitar Store about you not playing since the accident. He said he’d like to work with you to make sure you have full use of your fingers. The present is really partly from him. I think he only charged for six of the ten lessons,” Mom said.
“It will be really interesting. When I sit down and try to play, I forget everything I knew. When I’m just fooling around, it sounds okay.” I could hardly tell her that I had never played the guitar. My fingers seemed to know what to do if I disconnected my head, but once I thought about it, it all fell apart. “The problem I’m having at the moment is with walking,” I continued. “I was really hoping I’d be able to walk and get stronger this week. I can’t do it in the snow.”
“Go to the mall.”
“What?”
“It’s what all the old people do. They go to the mall before all the stores open and walk around it. It’s safe from the weather and you’ll have company.”
“Um… how do I get to the mall?”
“This was a great idea,” Em said as we started our walk around the mall.
“Yeah. Mom comes up with some good ones occasionally,” I laughed. “You need to pick up your pace. I love walking with you but you won’t get anything out of the lazy stroll I’m doing.”
“Okay. I’ll catch up with you on my next circuit. Be sure to concentrate on your form and don’t lean too heavily on that cane.” She was off like a shot. That was one thing about Em that I loved. Or I thought I did. She was a fast walker. And now that she was focusing on getting in shape for basic, she treated walking as an aerobic exercise.
My slow but focused pacing around the mall gave me time to think some more. Em. The fifth girl in my new life. My sister. In many ways, my lover. Oh, we hadn’t had intercourse, but Saturday night after the dance she slipped into bed naked with me and we both relieved an entire evening worth of sexual anticipation. We’d started with just kissing and using our hands on each other. And I loved her tits. I sucked on them through her first orgasm while my fingers made wet sloppy noises as they plunged into her. She pulled my face to her mouth as she came so we wouldn’t wake anyone with her moans.
That started us kissing some more and we slowed down the finger play while we caught our breath. She smeared my precome over the head of my cock and slid up and down it.
“I get so jealous of Francie sometimes,” she whispered.
“I have something with you I don’t have with Francie,” I said.
“I’m your sister.”
“I love you.”
“J…” she whined as she slammed her mouth against mine again. She squeezed my cock just at the right time and I came all over our stomachs. “That was so intense.”
“Careful. You’re holding my brains in your hand.”
“You’re holding my heart in yours.” We kissed and I only softened slightly as she continued to slowly move her hand up and down my shaft. “It’s all messy down there,” she said. I wasn’t sure if she was referring to my come on us or her sloppy pussy in my hand. I was enjoying just lying with her in my arms and feeling all the warmth from her body pressed against mine. Usually she popped up out of bed as soon as we’d come and went to her own room. That night, she cuddled closer.
“What are we going to do, Em?” I sighed. “I don’t even know why I love you so much. It’s not a dream.”
“I think right now, I should clean up this mess.” Well, that would end our loving and who knew when we would have another opportunity. She surprised me again as she began working her way down my body with her tongue, cleaning up my spend. When her lips circled the head of my cock, I gasped.
“Em, let me do you, too.”
“Yes, love. You will. You can touch me a little, but let me concentrate on you right now.” The touching I did was limited to petting her bottom, which I loved to do. Occasionally, I’d dip a finger between her cheeks and feel her shudder. But what she was doing sort of ate my brain.
She’d lick around the head and then lower her mouth to take it in. She stroked the length with her tongue and bobbed again. It was the gentlest, most leisurely blowjob I’d had in either of my lives. She kept me right on edge forever. And while she sucked me into her mouth, my hands could stroke her soft round ass. I was in heaven.
After an eternity, I found myself spurting. I’d been building for so long that the crossover to eruption took me completely by surprise. Emily continued to bob and stroke my cock as the longest orgasm of my life kept coming. I honestly thought I might just keep coming for the rest of my life. I’d die happy.
When I was finally softening in her mouth, Em moved around to face me. She straddled my chest and kept crawling toward me until she could lower a dripping pussy to my waiting tongue. I tried to give her the same treatment she’d just given me. I licked all the way from her butthole to her clit and back again. I swirled my tongue deep into her opening and fucked it back and forth as she closed her eyes and let her head fall back. I reached up and caressed her breasts with my hands, rubbing her nipples gently with my thumbs. Soon, my tongue and mouth action was joined by her thrusting against me to get more contact and I flattened my tongue against her clit as she rode me in cowgirl cunnilingus. And finally, she whined a long high note that she tried to keep quiet by sucking in her breath.
I supported her as she collapsed on top of me. She lay there, stretched out on me, chest to chest, gasping and giving me little kisses until my cock started to rise against her wet pussy lips again. I was nestled right in the center of her hot opening and she froze and looked into my eyes. For a moment, I thought she was going to slide right down onto my shaft and I held still, waiting.
She pulled herself away and got off me.
“I love you, J. Sweet dreams, brother.”
And she was gone.
What was I going to do about Em? It was so wrong and so good and we both wanted it and knew we couldn’t… shouldn’t have it.
And why was it that the guilt I felt about a relationship with her was all about our being siblings? It never once crossed my mind that she was my youngest granddaughter’s age. Somehow our link to each other wouldn’t have mattered if we were different species even. I felt so strongly attached to her that age was irrelevant. But she was my sister.
Thinking that maybe this was one of the things that might have changed in this alternate reality I was in, I searched for ‘incest’ on the internet and discovered that the laws and rules were pretty much the same as for V1. It seemed to have less to do with religious morals than in my other timeframe, but had strong psychological and societal principles attached to it.
What am I going to do?
Em caught up with me on her next circuit around the mall and told me to stand up straight. I’d been slouching. I needed to work on that along with walking. Muscle memory.
END PART II
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