Doing it all Over Again... My Greatest Wish

[whiskynaam]

"I'll take that as a yes," I said, grabbing Debbie's hand and leading her there. She didn't even look back.

Raisin's room was suprisingly pretty neat. I led Debbie inside and then shut the door. It was latched less than a half a second before her mouth slammed into mine and her tongue was probing for my tonsils. She pulled me tight against her, grinding her crotch into mine, rubbing her hips in circles.

"Oh God," she said, breaking the kiss and licking at my neck. "I've never been this fuckin' turned on before. I can't believe I'm doing this."
"I have that effect on women," I said, kissing her back and leading her over to the bed.

We sat down on the foot of it and I kissed her again, running my hand up under her sweater. I felt her smooth stomach and the cups of her bra for a moment before pushing upward, lifting the hem of the sweater over her head. She raised her arms to allow me to remove it. I tossed it to the floor next to the bed.

I began kissing her smooth shoulders while my hands slid around her back, finding the clasp of her bra. With a quick flick of my fingers the clasp was undone, allowing the bra to sag free. I pulled it off of her and tossed it to the floor next to her sweater.
I leaned back and stared at her chest for a moment. Her tits were almost more than I take. I had to restrain myself from simply attacking them. Though large for a teenager, they were firm, unaffected by years of gravity pulling on them. The nipples were small but erect, standing out proudly. The flesh was slightly paler than the surrounding skin. Sixteen year old tits!
She saw my gaze and flushed deeper, covering them with her arms. Obviously my eyes upon her embarrassed her.

Gently I reached out and pulled her arms back down. "Don't cover them up," I said softly. "They're beautiful. Absolutely beautiful."
She was nervous, not saying anything but giving me a slight giggle.
I reached out and stroked them softly with my fingers, running the tips around the perimeter, feeling the young, springy flesh, testing the weight of them. She sighed a little as I did this. Again, she was probably expecting me to maul them as a normal teenager would. I let the tip of my fingers circle inward, finally just flicking her nipples. She shuddered at the contact.
She was actually trembling as I leaned forward and began planting kisses on her bare shoulder. I let the underside of my tongue slide downward along her flesh, across the top of her heaving chest until I encountered the swell of her tit. I began sucking and licking the delicate skin there, giving the occasional soft nip with my teeth. Her hands landed on the back of my head, trying to push me down to the nipple. But I refused.

I kissed and sucked my way all over her right breast, moving from top to bottom, running my tongue over the underside and her lower chest, relishing the taste of her young skin, driving her nearly crazy with my teasing, but avoiding the nipple. Finally I repeated the process on her left breast. I then slid my tongue between the two, feeling them pushing into my cheeks on either side. She was now whimpering, almost crying in her desire.
At last I moved my mouth to the right nipple. I flicked at it with my tongue, tasting and feeling its texture. At the contact she pushed her chest forward, trying to force it into her mouth, but I backed away at the same rate she advanced, frustrating her. I began sliding my tongue around the perimeter of the nipple, making it swell further. Finally I took it in my mouth and began suckling it gently, just as an infant would do.

"Ohhhh," she moaned, her fingers running through my hair. I pushed her to her back on the bed and went to work in earnest.
I worked on her nipples for more than ten minutes, moving from one to the other, tasting them, sucking them, loving them, until her hips began to move up and down. As I did this I reached down with my hands and pulled off her shoes, letting them fall to the floor. Her socks followed this.

Once she was barefoot, I began kissing my way downward, paying particular attention to her flanks, which I'd realized in my mid-twenties was a powerful erogenous zone on women when a tongue and mouth is applied to them with the right pressure. When I reached the waistband of her jeans I kissed along it, heading for her stomach, darting under the hem with the tip of my tongue. Her tummy was a work of art in and of itself. It was as smooth as the proverbial baby's butt, unlined by stretchmarks or any other signs of time. I reached her bellybutton and teased it for a moment, making the muscles in that part of her body go into seizure. I then trailed the back of my tongue downward again, until I reached the top of her jeans.

She was wearing button-fly jeans. I reached up and slowly undid the first button, revealing just a hint of her lower stomach. The flesh there was even paler than that of her breasts. I kissed and sucked that which was revealed for a second and then undid the second button, repeating the process.
When I undid the third button the top of her panties came into view. They were sparkling white, a sharp contrast against her skin. I captured the cotton material in my teeth for a second, pulling them lightly away from her body briefly before releasing them. As I did this I caught the first whiff of her odor. It was fresh and musky, the scent of a teenager, and only touched my olfactory senses for an instant. But it was enough to make me pick up the pace.

I ripped open the rest of her buttons and disengaged myself from her, so that I was kneeling at the foot of the bed. I put my hands in the waistband of her jeans and began tugging.

"Raise your hips," I commanded.
She instantly obeyed, obviously eager for me to get on with what I'd promised her. I pulled the jeans downward, struggling a little but finally removing the tight material from her body. They joined the sweater and the bra on the floor, leaving her lying before me in only her white, cotton panties.
I paused long enough to take off my own sweater, leaving me bare from the waist up. She stared at me lustfully as I did this, her legs twisting this way and that, unable to come to a rest. They were very pretty legs, smooth as silk, lightly tanned. Looking between them I could see that the crotch of her panties was wet, sucking lightly into her pussy. My mouth began watering as

I captured her legs and placed them on my shoulders.

I reached forward and grabbed the waist of her panties. She raised her hips without instruction this time and I pulled them off, tossing them to the floor and returning her legs to my shoulders. I was now looking at her pussy. An actual sixteen year old pussy. The lips were swollen and inviting, her clit peeking out of its hood. There was a growth of reddish-brown hair, thick on the top, sparse around the lips. Her odor was now strong in my nostrils, making me giddy, the smell of a teenager in heat.
"Have you ever been eaten before?" I asked her, letting my finger lightly slide between her wet lips, parting them.
"Yes," she panted, still trembling. "Once."
"How was it?" I asked.
"It was okay," she said. "Please, do it now?"
I smiled. "Okay? Did you come?"
"No." She shook her head and then repeated. "Please?"

"Then you were just licked before," I told her, sliding my finger into her about a half an inch, far enough to feel that she was tight. "Prepare to be eaten."
"Ohhhh," she moaned as I moved my head forward.
I licked between those wonderful lips, tasting her nectar, feeling her smooth membranes with my tongue. I probed in and out, lapping like a cat a bowl of milk. She moaned as I did this, spreading her legs wider. I ran my hands up and down her smooth thighs while I continued to lick at her.
Her pubic hair tickled my face as I sucked each lip in between probes with my tongue. When her hips began gyrating on the bed I began making stabs at her clit. The stabs took her breath away, made her squeal in delight with each one. I ran my tongue around her erect clit for a few moments and then finally took it between my lips and began to suck on it gently.
"Ohhhh!" she screamed. "What are you... ? Ohhhhh!"
I increased the suction on it, stabbing rapidly with my swirling tongue as I did so. Her hips began moving up and down rhythmically. Her sexy legs wrapped around my back, pulling me closer.

"Ohhh yesss!" she cried. "Ohhh yesss! Oh God!"

Shortly her clit sucked back into its hood and her hips and pubis began slamming into my face. It became difficult to keep my lips where they belonged but I had experience reading the rhythm. I plunged two fingers into her, feeling that tight sheath contract around them. I almost came in my pants right there when I felt that tightness. Oh how good that was going to feel when I got my cock in there.
With a long, high-pitched scream she came in my mouth, her hips battering me nearly senseless and then finally slowing to a stop. But I wasn't done yet. I pulled my face away from her but continued to finger-fuck her. I looked in her eyes as I did it. Her eyes had a mad glint in them; an expression she wasn't supposed to wear for another five years or so. She was panting and licking her lips, her tits heaving up and down.
"Did you like that?" I asked her, driving my fingers in and out. Her hips already were picking up the rhythm again.
"Yess!" she hissed. "Oh god, I never knew anything could..." She couldn't finish. She simply closed her eyes and humped back at my hand.
I smiled and then lowered my face to her crotch once more.
"Again?" she cried. "Ohh God!"

It only took two or three minutes to pull the second orgasm from her. The third took even less time. By the time I pulled my face away and stood up, she looked nearly insane.
"Are you ready to get fucked now?" I asked her, opening the fly on my own 501s.

to be cont ....

[techienator]

applause for bro whiskynaam... its as wat u mentioned earlier... getting interesting as each part comes by... bring the rest on...

[whiskynaam]

"Ohhhh!" she moaned, her eyes glued to my crotch.

"Answer me," I told her. "Are you ready to get fucked?"

"Yes!" she yelled, nodding vigorously. "Oh yes!"

I kicked off my shoes and socks and then dropped my pants, pausing long enough to pull one of the condoms from the pocket. I tossed the condom on the bed by her feet and then dropped my underwear, letting free my straining, fifteen-year-old cock. It wasn't quite as long and thick as it would eventually be but Debbie didn't seem to mind. She spread her legs wider.

"C'mon!" she told me. "Let's do it."

I picked up the condom and ripped the package open, letting it fall to the floor. I rolled it over my cock expertly, giving it a tug to make sure it was on correctly. It was. Debbie watched this all with aroused curiosity. It was obvious she'd never seen anyone put on a rubber before, though I was sure, due to the lack of a hymen, that she'd been fucked. I understood. Teenagers didn't give a shit, didn't think about consequences. But I did.
I climbed back on the bed and positioned myself over the top of her. Our lips came together again, our tongues swirling back and forth once more. Her firm tits were against my chest and my outer thighs were against her inner thighs. I grabbed my cock in my hand and put the head against her wet lips, sliding it up and down a few times, wetting the condom.

"Do it!" Debbie yelled, pushing her hips upward.

Slowly I pushed forward, allowing the head of my cock to slide inside of her. Her tunnel grasped me tightly, feeling as if a hand was gripping me, and I could slide no further. I pulled out and pushed again, gaining a little more ground with each thrust. Finally I was all the way inside the tightest box I'd ever imagined, let alone been in. This was what sex was supposed to be like.
I began to thrust in and out, feeling her clamping on me as I slid back and forth. After a few moments she loosened up a little, allowing me to pick up the pace. I then began to slam in and out with practiced strokes, being sure to grind my pubic bone against hers with each thrust. She moaned and clawed at my back with her nails as I fucked her, her hips rising and falling counter to my own. Her skin began to perspire heavily, making our bodies slide exquisitely together, as if greased. She kissed on my neck and my ears, her tongue strokes copies of what I'd done to her earlier.

I suddenly got up to my knees, putting her legs on my shoulders while I continued to fuck her. I was able to look down upon her supine body, to watch my cock sliding in and out her slit, to see her sweaty tits bouncing back and forth, to see her face, to watch the rapture in her eyes. I stroked her legs up and down, kissing on her calves for a while and then I began feeling those beautiful breasts, squeezing them a little rougher now. I slammed harder and harder into her, making her grunt and moan. When she came again she pulled me back down to her and thrust her tongue back in my mouth.

I was at the end of my rope by then so I went for the final push. I fucked as hard as I could, sweat dripping off my face, that tight pussy gripping and releasing me. I felt the sensation of pure pleasure starting in my groin and spreading quickly throughout my body from there. I began to groan myself, losing control of my thrusting rhythm, only battering her like an animal. The pleasure of orgasm assaulted me, had its way with me, completely took my body over for an indeterminate amount of time. It was pleasure on the purest level. My God, I could not remember when orgasms had felt like that. It made the ones I had as an adult feel like a little spasm in comparison. I shot blast after blast inside of her (inside the condom actually), continuing to pound away until I fell exhausted atop of her.
We kissed each other for a moment and then looked in each other's eyes. Hers were full of confusion and doubt.
"Wow," she whispered finally. "That was... that was awesome. Totally bitchin'."

I smiled, kissing her nose and pulling myself out of her so the condom wouldn't come off in her pussy.
"Thank you," I said, rolling to my back next to her.
She was still looking at me. "It was almost like... I dunno." She shook her head.

"Like what?" I asked, grabbing the condom and pulling it off neatly, not spilling so much as a drop.
"Like you were, oh, I dunno, older or something. It didn't seem like I was doing someone younger than me."

I stared at her for a moment, holding the slick condom between my fingers. I chuckled. "I'm just wise beyond my years, baby. That's all."
She looked at me doubtfully as I tied a knot in the condom and stood up. "What now?" she asked. "Are we like, going together now?"
Going together? I accessed my memory again for what that term entailed. Finally I remembered. Boyfriend/girlfriend type of thing. Not supposed to date anyone else. I certainly didn't want that. "No," I told her. "We were just two stoned friends having a little fun together. That's all. Why does it have to be more complicated than that?"

Relief was evident on her face. She didn't want to 'go' with anyone either. "I guess it don't," she answered, and then she soured. "But I guess I'll be the school slut for a while." She looked at me as I picked up my clothes from the floor. "You know, it was worth it though. Where did you learn how to, you know, make love like that?"

"Oh, here and there," I answered. "But there's no reason why you have to be the school slut you know. I'm not gonna tell anyone what we did."

Her smile was cynical beyond its years. "Sure you won't," she answered. "You won't tell anyone that you're the one to bag Debbie Walker."

"I won't," I said, pulling on my pants. "For what purpose would I do that? So all of you girls can talk about what a fuckin' blabbermouth I am? How will I ever get any pussy that way? No girl's gonna fuck a loudmouth. However, if you have the reputation as someone who can keep his mouth shut no matter what... well, where do you think I learned how to do what I did?"
She looked hopeful for a moment, wanting to believe me. But then she shook her head. "Even if you do keep your mouth shut, which I doubt, Raisin and Lonnie know what we did. They won't keep their mouths shut."
I shrugged. "I'll tell them you wouldn't give it up. I'll call you a fuckin' cock tease when I tell them about it, kissing on me and lettin' me feel your tits a little through your sweater, but not lettin' me go any further. They'll believe it."

"You are going to tell them that?" she asked, looking at me as if I'd just explained that there really was a Santa Clause and an Easter Bunny.
I leaned over and kissed her lightly on the lips. "Sure," I told her quietly. "You can trust me for that. You really can. I promise. And you don't even have to trust me. Just say you didn't do anything with me but kiss me. If I'm lying and I blab to everyone, how much worse off are you anyway?"
"I suppose," she said doubtfully.

"But do me a favor," I said.

"What?"
"Well, I know you don't believe me now, but when a few weeks go by and you find out that I kept my promise, just keep me in mind the next time you get a little horny. I can be very discrete."

"Discrete?" she asked.

"Never mind," I said, pulling on my shirt. "Just keep me in mind. And if you and some of your friends ever get to discussing things like sex with each other, and if one of them ever happens to express frustration that she can't get herself fucked without the whole school knowing about it." I smiled. "Maybe you could just mention my name to them. If you know what I mean."
She stared at me for a second and then started giggling. "Are you sure you're only fifteen?"
"Yep." I nodded. "The best age of your life, Debbie. Believe me."

to be cont

[whiskynaam]

seems such stories not so popular with bros... i will stop posting this one n try get more hardcore sex action ones.... maybe this one action too slow liao... like story book like that...

[ragnarclaw]

Ya maybe the story is abit too slow liao...SPEED UP bro...

[whiskynaam]

i tot a different style story mah.. actually this story is my fav of all time... time travel... n fantasy...milf.... young gals... anyways... look for other stuffs liao.. this story cmi here

[whiskynaam]

i tot a different style story mah.. actually this story is my fav of all time... time travel... n fantasy...milf.... young gals... anyways... look for other stuffs liao.. this story cmi here

[ragnarclaw]

well just keep on writting,someone will definitely read them if the story get more excited....

[blade]

Originally Posted by whiskynaam

i tot a different style story mah.. actually this story is my fav of all time... time travel... n fantasy...milf.... young gals... anyways... look for other stuffs liao.. this story cmi here

hey i like this story here..how abt letting us have more????or posting where u got this story so i can get to read in one short? will up u don worry

[Landlord]

No. I think it is very good. Do proceed. Definitely one of the best I have read. Good works.

[Zacxaviqer]

I love this type of story... I was actually skipping all the sex part and hoping to read abt wat is he going to tell her sis abt and how history was changed. IMO, skip the sex part and proceed with the main story instead. Truthly captivating. Pls continue.

[whiskynaam]

thanks for the encouragement bros... will continue in a short while... this story is really realy really long... however... its worth it imo

[whiskynaam]

Originally Posted by blade

hey i like this story here..how abt letting us have more????or posting where u got this story so i can get to read in one short? will up u don worry

Bros.. its not up or not up points.. at least got response mah

[whiskynaam]

Raisin dropped me off at home about 2:30 that afternoon. It was more than a half an hour before the time I was supposed to get home from school, but I knew that both my mom and dad would still be at work. Debbie had already been dropped at her own house. She was walking a little funny as she headed for her front door. We all watched her ass as it retreated. The moment she was out of earshot the interrogation began.

"How was she?" Lonnie asked, nearly slobbering with excitement. "Man, I can't fuckin' believe you scored with Debbie."

"Yeah," Raisin said with a grin. "What a slut. Wait'll everyone hears about this shit!"

"Fuck that bitch," I grumbled, sinking in my seat. "She wouldn't give it up."
"What?" they said in unison.

"But we heard you in there," Raisin protested. "She was moanin' like a fuckin' freight train."

I shook my head. "She's a good actress," I told them. "All she let me do was feel her tits a little through her sweater. Every fuckin' time I tried to put my hand underneath it she'd slap it away. Fuckin' cock-tease."

"You didn't fuck her?" Lonnie asked, crushed. "What were you doing in there all that time?"

"Just makin' out," I said. "Believe me, I tried but that bitch is harder to get into than Fort Knox."
They were looking at me in confusion. The rule of teenaged boys of course is that even if you didn't fuck them, you told people that you did. I could almost see the wheels of irrational logic turning in their heads. If I said I hadn't fucked her when I could easily have claimed I had, I therefore must not have even come close to fucking her. The thought that I might actually have bagged her and was keeping it secret was so foreign a concept to them that they were able to ignore the overwhelming evidence before them and draw the conclusion I wanted them to draw. They probably figured I was even lying about feeling her tits since some embellishment was mandatory.

"That's too fuckin' bad man," Lonnie commiserated. "I really thought someone was gonna bag that bitch this time."

"Nope," I said. "The same old shit. Why do we even try?"

"Some day," Raisin vowed with all the dramatics of Scarlet O'Hara proclaiming she would never go hungry again, "that bitch is gonna give it up."
They bid me a sad farewell as I exited the car and soon the Falcon was roaring down my street, belching huge clouds of black, stinking exhaust from its tailpipe. As they disappeared I sighed with the kind of satisfaction that only a man who has just gotten laid can display. I headed for the house thinking that being fifteen again was all right. I'd wished well.

I was appalled by what I found inside. When the door opened the sound of rock music cranked at top volume hit my ears. The smell of marijuana hit my nose. Tracy was sitting on the couch with Cindy and a football player from school I recognized as Cindy's boyfriend, although I could not remember his name. Cindy and the football player were kissing each other in heated passion while Tracy was flipping through a teen magazine and pretending to ignore what was going on. A plastic bong sat on the coffee table next to a paper plate with pot in it. Pepsis and a bag of chips were sitting next to this. The bong still had tendrils of smoke curling out the top of it. They hadn't even heard me come in the house. I remembered that Tracy had been busted for just such a thing during her senior year when my mother had come home from work unexpectedly and had walked in on just such a scene. God, my sister was a stupid teenager too.

I kicked the plug out of the stereo system, causing their tune to wind down and die. The three people on the couch jerked almost painfully in alarm. Cindy and her boyfriend separated so fast that it looked as if they'd burned each other. Cindy's boyfriend made a grab for the pot on the table. They all stopped when they saw that it was only me. They relaxed a little.
"You scared the shit out of us!" Tracy yelled at me. "You little asshole! What the hell are you doing home now anyway?"

Cindy's boyfriend was giving me a hostile look, a look that made me wonder if another Richie type encounter was brewing.
"The same thing you are," I told her mildly, kicking the door shut. "Cutting school and smoking weed." I looked around the room, shaking my head sadly.

"However, I'm a little smarter about the way I do it than you idiots are."

They all gaped at me. It was an expression that I was starting to get used to. I was starting to think of it as The Look.
I stared at Tracy. "What if I'd been Mom coming home from work a little early because she didn't feel good or something? That kind of shit can happen you know. Do you think Mom would call the house to let someone know she's coming home? Why would she do that? Nobody is supposed to be here. You got the music turned up so fuckin' loud you didn't even hear me open the door. The damn door wasn't even locked. You guys are a freakin' bust waiting
to happen!"

Cindy and Tracy just stared at me in shock. Like I said, I had always been shy before and to them my personality would have appeared to have changed radically overnight. The old Billy would, upon interrupting their session, have simply blushed and muttered a brief apology before slinking out of the room. They did not know what to say or what to think about what I'd said. But the football player reacted as his personality instinctively commanded him to.
"What the fuck is it to you?" he asked me, glaring.

"Shut your ass, ball boy," I shot back at him. "You're in my house and I wasn't talking to you."

His face reddened with rage. He stood up suddenly. "What did you say to me, you little pussy?"

"Jeff, leave him alone," Cindy spoke, grabbing his arm and trying to pull him back down.

He shook her arm off angrily. "Say that again to me, faggot," he challenged. "I fuckin' dare you."

"You fuckin' dare me?" I said mildly. "Okay." I nodded. "I told you to shut your ass. I then made a derisive remark aimed at your meager football skills. Did you hear me that time?"

"You're dead, kid," he said, starting to move towards me.

"Jeff!" Tracy spoke now. "Leave him alone!"

Jeff continued to head towards me. He was actually planning to beat me up in my own living room in front of my sister who had invited him in there. Christ, why was everyone so violent? No wonder the human race fought so many wars. "Richie Fairview told me I was dead too," I told him. "Right before the ambulance picked him up and took him to the hospital. Would you like to join him there, asshole?"

He stopped. Apparently he had heard that story. His eyes showed immediate doubt as he stared at me. I stared back.
"Go sit your ass down," I told him, "before you get hurt."
He licked his lips nervously, sparing a glance at the two girls.

"I think you'd better do what he says, Jeff," Tracy told him. She was hiding a smirk as she said it. I suddenly realized that Tracy didn't like Cindy's boyfriend too much. Interesting. Was there hope for her yet?
"You're lucky they stopped me," Jeff finally blurted. A pretty pathetic face-saving measure I'm sure even he would agree. He returned to the couch and sat down.

"Yeah, I guess I'm lucky," I said, turning to Tracy. "If I was you I'd open up some windows in this house before Mom and Dad get home. The whole place reeks of pot. Do you guys do this sort of thing a lot?"
"No," Tracy told me, obviously lying.

"Well it's amazing you haven't been busted yet," I said, casting my eyes on Cindy, who was looking at me as if in awe. She was wearing tight jeans and a loose fitting sweater. I'd forgotten how pretty her eyes were. They were a deep blue, the kind of eyes you could melt in. Currently of course, they were very reddened and only about half-staff and her honey-blonde hair was in disarray from Jeff's fingers. Her neck was marred by a red hickey-Jeff's territorial mark. I supposed it was better than peeing on her like a dog with a fire hydrant. I wondered about the possibilities of Cindy. Could I do it? It would be more challenging than Debbie had been.
I gave her a seductive smile and she blushed deeply. Jeff saw it and fumed at me but didn't make a move. Finally, without another word, I headed upstairs to my room, closing the door behind me.

[whiskynaam]

My room was a filthy mess. I was offended by it. During my adult years I'd lost my teenaged sloppiness and had become something of a neat freak. Though I was still feeling the effects of the marijuana I'd smoked earlier and desperately wanted to lie down and take a nap, I began picking up the room.
It took me nearly two hours to get it clean, but it was a fascinating two hours none-the-less. I came across many objects and possessions I had not seen in years. I found places for them and by the time I finished it was quite a startling change. But there was still one thing to do.

While I'd been cleaning I'd heard the sound of my father coming home. I sincerely hoped for Tracy's sake that she had cleaned the house well enough. I guessed she had since she and Cindy were in her room, looking through some magazines as I passed by. Jeff of course, was long gone. Both girls watched me as I went by, shutting up with whatever they had been talking about. I smiled, especially at Cindy, who returned it weakly.

Dad was sitting in his chair and drinking a bottle of beer. The television was on, showing an early edition of the local news. Again I found myself staring at him, marveling on how young he looked, how thin. He wasn't much older than I was in a way. He caught me staring at him and looked at me.
"You okay, Bill?" he asked, concern in his voice.
"Oh sure, Dad." I nodded. "I'm cool. I was just tryin' to picture you with gray hair."

"What?" He chuckled. "Why would you do that?"

"Well, Grandpa has gray hair doesn't he? It stands to reason you will too doesn't it? I was just trying to picture what you would look like."
"That's kind of depressing." He smiled, sipping out of his beer. "What brought you to that subject?"
"Oh, uh, we were studying genetics in anatomy the other day. That's a dominant trait you know?"

"I've heard that," he answered. "What're you up to?"
"Just getting the vacuum cleaner."
Now he really looked at me strange. "The what?"
"The vacuum cleaner," I said. "I just got done cleaning my room and now I need to vacuum it."
"You cleaned your room?" he asked in disbelief. "You?"
"Yeah." I nodded. "It was pretty dirty. Why did you guys ever let me get away with being so messy anyway?"
"What?"
"Never mind," I said, moving towards the living room closet. I opened it and the vacuum was there. "I'll bring it back in a minute."
While I carried the appliance upstairs his puzzled look followed me up.
________________________________________
After I stowed the vacuum back in its closet I went back upstairs to lie down. Though I was exhausted I could not sleep. For one I was afraid. What if I went to sleep and woke up back in my other life? Was that possible? I surely didn't know. What I was dealing with here was way beyond my limited range of knowledge. My very existence back in 1982 was something I'd thought impossible but here I was. Somehow that dying Chinese man had done this to me. How I knew not. Were there any rules? I could conceive of being only allowed one day. It seemed possible that I was only allowed one waking period back here. I was not ready to return yet.

But there was also the possibility that I was stuck here for good. I had to consider that too. In fact I considered that the most likely scenario. There were many ramifications to that possibility and I needed to think them through carefully. How much did I dare to change? How much could I change? What would happen if someone found out about what had happened to me? There were people in the world who would do almost anything to get their hands on me if my situation became known. Governments wanting to know about the next seventeen years, business people wanting to know about stock trends. I could envision my family being held hostage to get me to do their bidding.

My initial thought had been to confide in Tracy, but I wondered if that was so wise. Tracy was after all, a teenager full of teenage stupidity as my earlier discovery graphically pointed out. I no longer thought she could be trusted with a secret of this magnitude. But at the same time I needed to make sure that she did not get in the car with that college student on her graduation night. I had vowed to myself I would prevent her death even if I could change nothing else on my return trip. That conviction was as strong in me as ever. Tracy would not die that night. One way or another I would see to it.
But that brought me back to the one night theory. If I couldn't tell her my secret, but if I was only allowed one night here, how could I make sure of her survival? I thought about that one for a while and finally I came up with something.

That left me to ponder the other questions in my mind. Suppose I was here for good. What else could I change? And how could I better myself and my family? I certainly did not want to end up right back where I was in seventeen years. I wanted to do things differently this time. But how? What could I do?
I reluctantly admitted to myself that I would lose Becky, my daughter in the process. This thought hurt me more than anything ever had before, but it was simply inevitable. Becky had been a very pleasant side effect of a brutal mistake I'd made in my previous life. I simply could not, no matter how much I loved my daughter, repeat that mistake. I couldn't. I told myself I wasn't killing her. She would just never exist in the first place. My mind was able to draw a distinction between those two things; a shaky one, but a distinction.
I lay there for more than two hours, until my mother called me down for dinner. I had a rough plan of sorts in mind by then. It was a plan that would be extensively modified and revised, but it was a plan. I felt better just having one.
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Dinner was my mom's tacos. They were fried in grease and would be politically incorrect by today's standards. Each one had to have at least fifty grams of fat. But God they were delicious. I chowed down five of them, shoveling in mounds of rice and beans as accompaniment and then washing the mess down with two sodas from the refrigerator. The only thing that would have made them better would have been a pitcher of margaritas but I figured Mom probably wouldn't whip up a batch for me.
She seemed gratified to see me eat so much. It probably put her worries about drugs aside for the moment. I remembered that I was living in the midst of Nancy Reagan's "Just Say No" era and that my mom had had her drug worries fueled by the little pamphlets that this era produced. The pamphlets always had "warning signs" that your kids were on drugs printed in them. I remembered how bizarre those so-called warning signs had seemed to me even on my first trip through fifteen. A big one had been "loss of appetite". What was up with that? Maybe if you'd moved all the way through marijuana and had worked your way to a two hundred-dollar a day cocaine habit you would have a loss of appetite. But most teenagers simply smoked pot. Loss of appetite was most definitely not a symptom of marijuana use. They should have put "greatly increased appetite" instead. They should have put in "excessive use of eye drops" as well.

I also remembered that the pamphlets had so called terminology for drugs. The theory was that parents would overhear their kids using these terms and would therefore know they were on drugs. Right, as if the kids would talk about drugs in front of their parents. I remembered having big laughs with my friends as we read these pamphlets, usually while we were stoned. Those who had used drugs in the previous generation had obviously transcribed the terminology. They said that common terms for marijuana were: Tea, Mary Jane, leaf, wonder green, and other such nonsense. None of the terms were current. In my age they called it pot, buds, herb, smoke, KGB, greenbud, and weed; none of which were listed in Nancy's pamphlets. I could imagine the laughter that would have resulted in the eighties if a kid had asked someone if they had any Mary Jane or tea for sale. I was forced to wonder if there had ever been a case of some kid being drawn off the path of drug abuse as a result of those "informational" pamphlets.

Dinner was consumed and another awkward moment occurred when Mom asked me a question just as we were about to start clearing the dishes from the table.

"Billy," she said, "did you clean Anita Browling's windows yesterday like you told her you would?"

I looked up at her, searching my memory banks again. I came up with who Anita Browling was easily enough. She was a divorced neighbor in her late twenties who lived two houses over. She'd split with her husband sometime around the time I was twelve or so and I remembered Dad giving vague explanations about how Mr. Browling had 'found someone else' and left her (for some reason my parents had assumed that Tracy and I would be upset by their D-I-V-O-R-C-E). My parents had, for whatever reason, kind of adopted Anita after her husband left her. She used to come over for dinner once a week. She had two small children that Tracy was volunteered to baby-sit frequently. I was always volunteered to mow her lawn for her since she professed not to know how to run a mower, or to do other small tasks such as cleaning her windows. Both of us were forbidden to take any money from her for our services, a point of resentment that had drawn my sister and I together a little in our teens.