A Matter of Time

Marco was in jail, and Yvette didn't mind that at all. She was pretty convinced he was a sadistic arse, and she liked being able to eat Janet's pussy without worry his steroid-developed body would be walking in mid-munch.

Janet had cried about Marco and his incarceration -- but more for the stress it caused and the fact he'd been accused of attempted rape and battery. Attempted rape? He had a stripper girlfriend and he needed to attack another girl? It didn't make any sense.

She was wearing a purple Dazzler's T-shirt and red panties when Yvette and her heavy breasts showed up at her door. It had started out as a long, sensitive hug after the news had spread about Marco's arrest the day before. But, in the morning sun with a sweet fall breeze meandering through the apartment, the two women began kissing.

"We shouldn't do this," Janet said to Yvette. "I need to concentrate on figuring out bond for Marco. Or bail. Whatever."

"He's an asshole who got himself in this trouble," Yvette said. "He deserves a stay in jail for a day or two."

"It's not simple," Janet said as Yvette pulled their bodies together. "He can help me with rent and stuff. And he ... sometimes I think he loves me."

Yvette was saddened. She loved Janet. She loved her smile. She loved her laugh. She loved her kindness. She loved the taste of her pussy. She pushed through her dejection to find her desire. Yvette softly kissed the younger stripper on the neckline and slipped her fingers up the back of her shirt, her red fingernails gliding against the small of Janet's back.

"Oh, God," Janet signed. She was a sucker for Yvette's fingers on the small of her back. Yeah, Marco was an asshole. That was true. When was the last time he kissed her like Yvette? Ever?

The lips of the girls met softly, like two leafs floating in a quiet September river, colliding together elegantly and staying joined.

Janet let herself go and gave herself to Yvette. Yvette heard the cue in Janet's sigh and led her to her bedroom. She led Janet by the hand and laid her down on her bed. Yvette pulled off the purple Dazzler's T-shirt from Janet's torso and kissed from her neck to her nipples, her fingers dancing along Janet's back.

Janet loved being loved, but wanted to touch Yvette as well. Yvette had pulled off her lover's red panties and began licking along her clit when Janet arched her back and repositioned herself to the middle of the bed.

"Sixty-nine," she said.

Yvette got wet. Even wetter. In their love affair, she'd always been the giver, orally. Janet had never tasted pussy. She'd avoided it. But now, she was asking.

Yvette pushed up from her girlfriend's hips and kissed up her taunt belly, over her tits and back to her mouth.

"Sure?" she breathed.

"I want to taste you as you taste me," she said. Janet pulled off Yvette's AC/DC Who Made Who T-shirt and her jean shorts. Yvette wasn't wearing panties ... her pussy shaved clean in anticipation of a sex morning. She kissed back down Janet's neck and breasts, slowly rotating her body and lifting her knees up and over Janet's head. Yvette gave Janet's pussy a long, lavishing lick before slowly presenting her pussy to Janet's lips. Their breasts meshed together on their chests and abdomens, Yvette's 36D breasts displaced along Janet's tummy. They'd been seen by hundreds, thousands of men, but touched by few. Janet was one of only seven lovers in Yvette's whole life.

Janet's sheets were tumbled over from her restless sleep. Her head rested on some bunched-up red silk sheets and looked up at the shape of her lover's hips and the pussy. She'd played with her body before, but never tasted. She licked her lips in anticipation and craned her neck forward as she felt Yvette kissing her inner hips.

Yvette felt Janet's breath on her clit and looked down, between her breasts, between her legs, to see the woman's tongue rising like a rocket flame toward the Sun. Yvette lowered her hips to help access and Janet began running her tongue along Yvette's taste.

Janet longingly, lovingly, slid into the depths of Yvette's warm cunt. She closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them again to assess Yvette's ass and ponder Yvette's pussy. The taste was sweet -- Yvette's daily dose of pineapple and fruits giving her a decidedly candied warmth. With just the hint of licking a battery's top -- metallic.

As she continued licking, Janet slipped a finger inside her lover. She wondered if this could be love. She worried about being lesbian. So many factors pushed against the idea; culture, her estranged family; her want for children one day. But men were idiots and Yvette was ... love.

She put the thoughts aside and continued her path taken by her tongue and fingers.

"Oh God, babe," Yvette said. Then she began her own assault on Janet. The young women became almost one body, attached in 69. They were linked at their tongues and clits, hands and asses, fingers and pussys. Yvette hadn't been orally pleased in months and was drunk in love and lust.

"Yes...just like that, love. Lick my clit like that. Mmmm ... just a little faster. I'm so close..." Yvette said on the cusp of climax.

Janet took the encouragement and lapped with it, in wonderment about the way she was making Yvette react.

"I want to taste you," she breathed. "I want to taste your cum, Yvette."

Yvette ground her gender quickly along Janet's tongue and began shaking in orgasm -- a powerful quake from her pelvic region through her core.

Yvette thought the last time she'd been this wet, she was swimming in the middle of Lake Monroe, a few miles south of Janet's bed, down Indiana State Road 446 near the Paynetown State Recreation Area.

***

A few miles south of Janet's bed, down Indiana State Road 446 near the Paynetown State Recreation Area, in the middle of Lake Monroe, the Martin and Vicki hosted Marty and Victoria on a rented pontoon boat.

"I don't know why Mother is so flipped out about this?" Victoria said.

Vicki gave her a long hug. She had always loved and honored her mother.

"I don't know," she said. She felt like a mother-type figure in many ways to her younger self. But she didn't know what to do to help.

The mist of Lake Monroe sprinkled along the two couples as Martin, the scientist, throttled down the engine. Marty, the student, looked to the vast forests encompassing Lake Monroe. A causeway with cars zooming through was the one of few indications of humanity in this part of the county.

"So, Martin, do you worry getting into contact with Victoria and I will affect your future? Or the world's?"

"Ah, we have a name for that. Timesuck."

"Timesuck?"

"Yes. But no, the theory doesn't hold a lot of water for me. When we contacted you, we only told you the bare minimum of the immediate future to let you know we are from the future. But, in our psychological experiments, 98 percent of the time, people make the same decisions -- even when they know the results aren't 100 percent agreeable."

Marty laughed.

"So, like the very definition of insanity is how most people respond to situations?"

"If insanity is doing the same thing over and over again getting the same result, yes. Of course, these situations are always tolerable. And we understand that, at this point, we shouldn't try to redo humanity. It is tempting to go back and influence time to destroy concepts of slavery and genocide, but we'll have to be careful about how that affects everything."

Timesuck. To go back into the time waves of the past and crash them -- thus changing what time reaches the shore of the future. It had to be avoided.

It was early September, and most of the visitors of Lake Monroe had returned to their homes in Indianapolis, Evansville and Terre Haute. Their timesuck of the summer was over as they returned to school and work. The pontoon boat was the only boat within a half-mile. A dingy with two elderly fishermen sat idle as they whipped lines in and out of the water.

Vicki took off her beige top and black shorts, revealing a two-piece stripped bikini that showed off her taunt body, her chest freckled with age. She was not shy. She was haunted by memories that were being created, but she wasn't going to change who she was. She knew her mother had scolded her about not marrying the minister and had threatened to cut off contact.

She hoped that would change. She wished new memories would surface. She knew when she returned to 2023, they would be. They had 72 hours until they went to their home. Of course, they were scheduled to return just 30 minutes after they left.

She and her husband had new memories of the day before. They were like a dream that you remember well. Vicki and Martin woke up in their hotel room and cuddled talking about their first time they'd touched one another intimately. It was so much better than their previous first time, a guilt-panged wedding night encounter in a dank, cheap Martinsville, Indiana motel room.

Martin tossed a 15-pound anchor into the lake. They'd drift, but just a bit. He was under the aluminum canopy of the pontoon boat -- the forward section open to the sun. He much preferred his own pontoon boat of 2023. He'd bought it in 2020. It drove like a vehicle from a storage shed to the lake -- the neroplastic wheels slipping into the boat as the pontoons pulled into the water.

He took off his shirt. Like his wife, he was no longer shy about his appearance. He was healthy at 55. Sexually active. Able to please his wife and love her. He walked forward where the younger couple and his wife sat on fabric seats.

"You guys can enjoy some of the weather and sun," Vicki said. She pulled out a sunscreen she'd bought and poured some on her hands. "Come here, hon," she said to Martin.

Vicki rubbed the sunscreen through her hands and fingers. She hadn't had sex with her husband. They slept nine hours in silence, recharging their bodies. But she woke up horny with the new memories of 20, and the hum of the boat's engine under her ass had her in a mood.

She also enjoyed the new memories coming in on her younger self's thoughts. She knew Victoria was upset about her family situation; she also knew the 20-year-old was horny about opening up to her sexuality.

Vicki massaged some sunscreen on her husband, running her fingertips over his shoulders and down his chest in front of the younger couple. Her fingernails lingered over his nipples as she leaned up and kissed him. He felt the upsurge in his loins at her touch.

"Get a room, you two," Marty said, snorting a laugh as he said it.

"No... don't," Victoria said. She wanted to watch them make love. She leaned up against her boyfriend and put her forearm over his trunks, his own penis quickly beginning to harden.

The 55-year-old couple braced themselves against the railing of the pontoon boat and kissed deeply. They nestled against one another as Vicki pushed her husband to a fabric couch five feet away from their younger selves. She giggled as she kissed his neck. She breathed against his Adam's apple -- her 98.6 degrees of breeze heating him from his collar to his cock.

The sunscreen smeared on their bodies ... it was one of the items they brought from 2023. While it protected from the sun, it was also honey sweet to the tongue and non-toxic.

He pulled the string that held together her bikini top and it fell to the boat's deck. He took over and began kissing her body; her chin, her neck, her breasts.

Victoria began caressing her boyfriend, looking up and kissing him briefly then returned her gaze to her older self, being pleased by her husband of 35 years. The man kissed down her belly and pulled off her bikini bottoms. A small tattoo, faded after being a part of her skin for three decades, was visible on the edge of her hip.

As she spread her legs for her husband, she revealed her body was again shaved clean, her husband's tongue licking upwards from her pussy and exposing her clit to the sunshine.

Marty began softly pulling at his girlfriend's breasts, eight fingers gliding along their barely touched surface, his two thumbs rubbing along her nipples under her one piece bathing suit. She was still wearing her jean shorts, but she was spreading her legs slowly as her body became wet to the moment.

She didn't want to lose her virginity in this moment, but she wanted to be sexual. She looked at her older self being licked and adored the scene. Her husband's tongue ravished her vagina. Her hands pulled his head close to her soft spot, her fingers running through his graying hair.

Her honey stirred, she pulled her husband from her clit and pussy and inhaling his kiss. She pulled down his bathing suit and his cock flapped up in the air. She looked at her younger self and winked at her. Victoria pulled down her boyfriend's trunks. The penises were equal in length and hardness.

"Like this," Vicki said as she lowered her face to her husband's cock. She expertly flicked her tongue along the head. "You can just stroke him for now, though," she added -- remembering instantly how torn she was mentally for the moment 35-years earlier.

Victoria pulled -- for the first time -- on a man's penis. She'd watched her boyfriend masturbated the night before ... but this was a new sensation. The swelling in her palm.

"Lick your hand," her counterpart coached as she came up from giving head for a moment. Victoria just wanted her husband's cock hard and wet for fucking; she had no interest in him cumming in her mouth on this occasion.

Both men moaned lowly at the sensations. Victoria obeyed the older one and ran her tongue along her fingers and hands, coating her boyfriend's penis in her lubrication.

She looked at her future as they looked at a new past. She watched as Vicki the vamp -- the 55-year-old without a care -- stood up and mounted her husband's hardness in reverse cowboy. It wasn't her favorite position -- but it was a good one for purposes of exhibitionism and education. His inches quickly disappearing into her body. His hands wrapping around to hold her breasts as she slid up and down on him.

This wasn't like when she'd spied her sister and brother in law having sex. That felt sinful. This felt beautiful.

Her boyfriend massaged her breasts and slipped a finger into her shorts and felt the wetness of her vagina. It was a first -- a man's warm fingers touching her maidenhood. He pulled off her shorts and pulled her swimsuit aside, the fabric moved away from her virginity.

Vicki clutched kindly to her husband's balls as he apexed into her pussy. His hands traveled from her clit to her belly to her breasts and to her neck, and then traveled back down -- an external visualization of what his penis was doing inside. Massaging her cunt -- from her entrance to her G-spot -- internally like he was caressing her skin outside.

The waves of Lake Monroe had been calm, but now the shaking of the boat pushed them from the pontoons outward. Small ripples from the sex launched toward the shoreline and pushed fish bobbers up and down. Sex impacts everything.

The younger couple leaned against one another and kissed deeply. They saw their future in the present. The love. The accomplishments. The struggles. The sex. Marty whipped his fingertip around his girlfriend's clit. Her neck flexed in pleasure as he did. She kept pulling up and down on his hardened cock -- looking down at it and looking up at the copulating couple a few feet away. She was so wet from everything. Marty's first finger slipped into her tight pussy as she bit her bottom lip.

"Fuck me, Martin. Fuck me hard!" Vicki screamed loud enough for the shore side to hear.

The younger couple ignited at the words. Victoria's first orgasm from a lover's fingers was quick to come and long to stay as she screamed in pleasure. Marty's thumb manipulated her clit as his first finger massaged her pussy. She breathed hard and stretched out her body on the cloth seats.

"Yes! Yes!" she cried.

Vicki took in the new memory of her first orgasm with Marty and rode Martin's cock even harder and faster. She reached down and played with her pussy and clit as well, wanting to cum hard. She put her feet up on his knees and played with her pussy with his hard cock inside her. Within seconds, she was cumming all over his cock as she screamed...

"Yes! Yes! Oh, fuck, yes!" she cried.

The two men had cocks hard for their lovers. The same woman, 35 years apart. The younger kissed his girlfriend and looked in her eyes. She'd seen the look the previous night before he came while they masturbated together. She kept stroking his strong stalk as his sighs shallowed and his seed followed, showering her bathing suit.

"Yes! Yes! Oh, fuck, yes!" he cried.

The older had watched and enjoyed the new memories as well. He knew his wife was teasing the younger couple with her willingness to show off her body -- and his. But now was his turn to cum. He'd held off while the other three climaxed, but he was close.

He pushed his wife off him, onto her knees, always keeping his cock inside her. Her ass jutted toward the sky as he fucked her doggy style. He slapped her backside with his forehand. He felt the physical transformation in his loins, going from excited to no-turning-back with his balls swelling.

"Yes! Yes! Oh, fuck yes!" he flexed as his flow fountained into her once flowering fecund. He loved her and every moment felt like he was still within moments of their first kiss more than three decades earlier. He only wanted to make her feel loved.

The younger couple watched in a little bit of shock and a lot of awe.

"Marry me," Marty said.

"Yes," Victoria answered again.