Second Chance - Cover

Second Chance

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

Chapter 22

DoOver Sci-fi Sex Story: Chapter 22 - 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  

We slept late the next morning. Though I was feeling better each day, my strength hadn't fully returned and I found myself quite tired by ten o'clock most nights. Beth Ann seemed to go with the flow as far as my needs were concerned. She was trying out retirement and discovering whether or not she was going to like it. Our pillow talk in the mornings was all over the board. Beth Ann wanted to talk about our houseboat trip and I wanted to talk about Beth Ann's beautiful nipples.

We compromised. She talked about the trip and I talked to her nipples. Occasionally I found I had to give a nipple some personal attention and Beth Ann seemed appreciative of my efforts.

Beth Ann and I spent the morning preparing for our boat trip and spent the afternoon 'relaxing' upstairs. We found that in order to feel completely rested, we had to "relax" several more times. You know, just in the interest of medical necessity, for me and all...

The following Wednesday Beth Ann and I pulled out from the dock near Kimberling City and headed out for Eureka Springs. The day was hot and sunny and promised to become more so. Neither of us cared a bit about the summer heat. We were as excited as young children about going our first houseboat adventure.

No doubt we packed, bought and stored far more of everything than we would ever use but the excitement of our trip canceled out any frustration about our numerous purchases. Beth Ann and I carefully stocked the fridge and cabinets with things we thought we'd like to snack on between meals. It was our hope that we could find riverside restaurants spaced just right, to stop at for lunch and supper each day we cruised. That way we wouldn't spend hours cleaning up after ourselves in the kitchen, when we could be cruising and sightseeing.

Beth Ann was dressed in summer whites. White blouse, white shorts and white deck shoes, over white ankle socks. She bought new sunglasses and a pretty red, white and blue floppy hat just for the trip. I looked dashing in khaki shorts and a sport shirt, over leather moccasins and a nice pair of Ray-Ban sunglasses we found at the eye doctor. The glare off the lake and presumably, the river, could give you a bad headache and we wanted to avoid that at any cost. My last experience with a bad headache was enough for one lifetime - or two – as was the case with me.

Table Rock Lake becomes the White River and the river winds from Branson, along the southern Missouri border, into Arkansas. The navigable part runs from the lake to the dam at Beaver Lake. That lake is huge but the boat can't make it over the dam. That would have to be the turnaround point. We thought the trip would take two short days but hoped to sightsee enough that we spent three days traveling down, with one long day and one short day home. It didn't make a bit of difference to us. We had no agenda other than to take the boat out and have a good time.

As we headed out Beth Ann moved up beside me on the bench seat and put her arm around my waist. The fly bridge was roomy and set up for visiting. We cuddled like two teenagers and enjoyed the scenery. The few times we'd used the boat I became a little comfortable finding the best RPM setting for fuel efficiency and speed. This set of engines ran best at 1500 RPM's and burned about five gallons of diesel at 12 miles per hour. Speedy we were not.

One thing about having diesels is the noise is very muted. You almost have no idea the engines are running it is so quiet. As far as vibration, it wasn't noticeable but we were a floor and a half above the engine compartment and it was forty-five feet behind us and at the water line. The exhaust went into the water and that seriously cut down on noise vibration as well.

"Hey Captain," Beth Ann giggled. "Are you going to drive this big ole' thing all day, or are you going to find us somewhere to anchor and have your way with me?" Now that was an idea a boy could get behind. I was hoping Beth Ann would decide to give her first blow job on this cruise and from the look in her eyes, I thought that might be pretty likely.

Just thinking about those full, soft, wet lips, wrapping themselves around my engorged dick sent waves of desire through my body. Beth Ann definitely knew how to entice a man and since I was that man, she was going to be fully rewarded for her efforts, as fast as I could drop anchor and my clothes.

That took a few minutes but not because we needed to look for a place. The whole lake was a place to drop anchor. I decided we should at least be out of sight of the marina, before we stop for sex. Hank and JoAnna would be scandalized to think of us as a couple, instead of mother and son.

Fear of discovery was one reason I wanted to take our RV trip. No one would know us as we wandered through the western US and if we wanted to kiss and cuddle, we wouldn't have to think about anyone spying on us and knowing our secret relationship.

Beth Ann was having a blast. She kept flashing her right breast at me as I shut down the engines, then dropped and secured the anchor. Her breast was all the incentive I needed to hurry and soon we were wrapped in each other's arms, kissing like crazy people, while pulling off our clothes. If Hank sent out a search party, it would be easy to find us. All anyone would have to do was follow the discarded clothes to the king sized bed in the master stateroom.

You couldn't fit a baseball card between us as we hugged. Beth Ann ground her pelvis against my erection as our tongues dueled. Other than our first time, I hadn't seen Beth Ann quite so aroused. Her arousal hit its peak when she reached between us and guided my dick into her wet pussy. We were both so stirred up neither of us had a chance of lasting long and I preceded Beth Ann's orgasm with a monumental explosion. I was seeing stars as my dick spurted again and again into Beth Ann's greedy body. She seemed to soak it all up and demand more, as the walls of her pussy gripped me in her heavenly vice.

In the quiet afterglow of sex I asked Beth Ann, "tell me ... tell me about ... me." We were still breathing heavy, sweaty – covered with a fine sheen of perspiration and relaxed as two can only be after good sex.

She was silent - thinking it over for several minutes. Her face reflected the questions that inhibited the any answers she could give me. "Beth Ann. I don't know anything about me that is older than when I woke up in the Hospital, in Springfield, the day after we got hit. Tell me everything you remember, anything you can think of about me. Please."

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