The Coc Cloc

WARNING:

The following story is for the entertainment of ADULTS ONLY, and contains descriptions of explicit sex. If you are not an adult, or reading sex stories upset you, or you are offended by subjects of a sexual nature - do not read any further!

This story is for entertainment only. It contains adult oriented material. This is a work of fiction. The acts and characters contained within are figments of my imagination and have no basis in fact. I do not practice, advocate, condone or encourage acts portrayed here. The characters in the story are entirely fictional. You need to believe that all of the characters are over the age of eighteen.

This story may not be reproduced in any form for profit without the written permission of the author. This story may be freely distributed with this notice attached.

Thanks to Scalia for insightful edits.

* * * * * * * * * *

It was right after lunch at work when I got a call announcing that I had "visitors." It is very unusual for anyone to stop by and see me without an appointment. Even my wife calls ahead to coordinate shared lunch plans. So it was a complete and total shock when I saw Zoe standing in the reception area, with what seemed to be a girlfriend in tow.

"Zoe!" I didn't offer open arms. The feel of her that close would have brought back memories and provoked a physiological response. I didn't do stuff like that in real time. Instead, I put my arm around her shoulder. "How did you get here?"

"By bus. It's not that far from Detroit." Her expression was subdued, reluctant. Obviously something was bothering her.

"Just five half-hour stops." The friend extended a hand. "I'm Stella, the unintroduced companion."

"So, what brings you to Chicago?" Had Zoe come to see me? To have sex in real time instead of in jump time? It was a dream to her, if I understood it right.

Stella replied, "Zoe and I are doing an architectural project about Chicago. Since we had a long weekend off, our teacher suggested that we come and see it first hand."

Zoe nodded vigorously. Had Zoe discussed her dream with her traveling companion? Was Stella also going to be on the menu? I shook my head. Sex outside of my marriage was a no-no in real time.

Stella pointed in the general direction of the glass window. "Maybe you can take us around?"

For a split second, my head interpreted that as hugging the two of them.

"You know, show us buildings and stuff?"

The receptionist was smiling at my awkward encounter. It would be gossip fodder the rest of the day. "Sure, why not?" Being in the company of two lovely young ladies would make it a wonderful day, even without sex. We stopped by my car and stowed their rolling suitcases, each not much bigger than a backpack, in my trunk.

"You two up for a walk?"

Zoe nodded.

"Sure, it'll be good to stretch our legs after being cramped up for so long." Stella took Zoe's arm.

I was no expert, but I knew some of the buildings by name. I even remembered some of the architects. I pointed a block south. "There's the Sears Tower."

"It's the Willis Tower now," said Stella. "Sears moved to the suburbs."

"You've done your homework. And this is the First National Bank building with its sloping lines." I looked straight up and got dizzy.

The smell from the small shop across the street grabbed my attention. "Anybody want some carmel corn?"

Both shook their heads. Maybe it's a developed taste.

The girls walked silently, taking an occasional photo of a building, asking about structures not in my repertoire. "I know. Let's take a guided tour."

We made our way up Michigan Avenue just past the Equitable and Tribune Buildings. There, on the shore of the Chicago River, was a tour boat. We jogged down the stairs and I paid for three tickets. Maggie wouldn't mind, after I explained the circumstances. We boarded the Chicago Architecture Foundation River Cruise boat, Chicago's First Lady. Their sign read "A must for out-of-towners and Chicagoans alike. CAF certified volunteer tour guides‚called docents‚interpret more than 50 buildings along the Chicago River, revealing how the city grew from a small back-country outpost into one of the world's most important crossroads in less than 100 years." I figured I might learn something too. The guides used an amplified megaphone to make sure we didn't doze off while they rambled on non-stop about historic and modern architectural styles, punctuated by stories about the people who designed and built the city. The girls seemed to pay attention. Stella even took notes.

I stumbled off the boat, trying to regain my land legs. The girls seemed to have no trouble. "There, pretty complete, right?" I searched their faces as they silently communicated.

Zoe frowned. "No, we haven't seen the old Water Tower or the Hancock or Water Tower."

It was a long slog up Michigan Avenue. The girls seemed more interested in the stores than the targets of our expedition, but were suitably impressed when we got to Chicago Avenue. Maybe they didn't need a snack, but I did. After we walked around the area, I bought the girls frozen yogurt in the food court at Water Tower. "Time we got back."

I was exhausted by the time we returned to my parking garage, our starting point. My feet felt like they were about to come off my ankles. "So, how was that?"

"Amazing!" said Stella. "We've got more than we need for our report. Right, Zoe?"

Zoe was again sullen. "Yeah. Sure."

Their rolling bags were stashed up a few levels in my trunk. "So can I drop you at the bus terminal, or are you staying over?" Not my bed, with my wife Maggie in it. Much too crowded.

"We've got a motel room," said Zoe.

"Great, I'll drop you off there." They seemed to have fresh legs. Pretty legs. I dragged my mind from the gutter and my body up to where I parked. Zoe took the front seat but she was practically comatose. I found the Motel Seven, "A Step Up From Six", on the edge of downtown. I put the car into Park but left the motor running.

"We've come all this way. Can't you stay a while, just to talk?" asked Stella.

It was strange for Stella to be asking. I'd just met her. Zoe's finger on her lip was sexual, not family friendly.

"Okay, for just a while." I parked the car and waited outside while they checked in and got a key. What would the clerk have thought about renting a room to them with me in plain sight?

Stella led, Zoe followed and I trailed. Bad mistake, because I couldn't help watch Zoe's hips sway from side to side, her ass round and inviting. I reluctantly entered their motel room. "Nice place."

"It's a dump, but we didn't have a lot of money left after the bus fare." Stella put her arm around Zoe's shoulder. "And it was important for Zoe to get away." Zoe's expression remained blank.

"Why? What's wrong?"

Zoe plopped down on the edge of the bed, her legs spread. "It's my Mom. Ever since we all had the same dream, she's been in bad shape."

"Did she tell you why?" I'd only heard some of the story through my wife's side of the conversation.

Zoe looked at Stella for encouragement or permission. She got both with a simple nod. "A couple of days after the dream - about you and me having sex in the shower - she told me part of a story about a trip to Texas with her father just before she graduated from high school. He had to travel down there for business, and she insisted on going along."

Her mother's story sounded like the plot to a bad erotic story.

Stella prompted, "Tell him the rest."

Evidently, Stella had heard the story before, probably on the bus ride. What else was there to do for all of those hours?

"Mom didn't tell me, but I think I figured it out. She wanted to seduce him: to have sex for the first time. I know just how she was feeling, you know. All of those hormones, rushing through her body?"

It was clear Zoe possessed those same hormones. "She wanted to have sex with her father?"

"Yeah. And Mom said that she was going to set me up the same way. You know, for my first time." Zoe looked into my eyes. "Did I tell you the dream seemed so real? My pussy ached, just as if I'd had sex."

The shower fucking had been hard on me too. "Dreams can be tricky that way."

"Ever since, I've had a feeling like I need to get a release or I'll just bust open." She slowly unzipped her top. No bra. The inside edges of her breasts were exposed.

"Can you get back to your mother's story, please?"

"Oh yeah. Something happened that messed up her plans." One hand casually slid into her top, caressing her breast. "Do you think I'm pretty?"

"Very. Almost too pretty."

"How can someone be too pretty?" She pulled her hand out and unzipped some more.

"Because a man might want to do something with a young woman who was too pretty. Things he shouldn't do."

She unbuttoned my shirt. I gently pushed her hands away but they returned, exposing my chest. "Momma told me that after the dream, she changed her mind about me having sex with Daddy."

"She did?" I swallowed hard. I was hard. Shit, this wasn't past time. This was current time, and I couldn't have sex with Zoe during current time, could I? Violating her would violate my mission. Besides, we had a witness.

"Momma said there was someone else better equipped for the job." Zoe's hand ruffed my chest hair.

I changed the subject from Zoe to her mother. "So what do you think happened to your mom? I mean, her trip with her father?"

"Oh, that? She sobbed so badly, I couldn't understand what she was saying. Something about a sheriff. That's all I know."

Lots of possibilities ran through my head. The most likely was that they got caught and her father got arrested for incest. Or maybe not.

A thousand questions went unanswered, but Zoe was intent on keeping my attention on her. "I know what I want."

"You do?"

Stella chimed in. "She's been telling me, all the way here. And it was a loooong bus ride. She wants to have sex with you."

Zoe unzipped her top and threw it off. Her breasts beckoned for my hands, my lips, any kind of touch, her nipples straining. "I want you to have sex with me in the shower, just like in my dream. Momma suggested it. She won't let Daddy and the boys in school, sheesh-" her pants and panties slid off in one smooth motion.

"Yuckers," said Stella.

It was torture. My rule was only sex in past time to correct a young woman's first experience, to save them from rape or inexperienced sex or whatever the bad situation. But this was real time, and despite her naked, fuckable and willing body in front of me, Zoe was my niece. "I'd love to, Zoe, but I have rules."

"Fuck your rules." Zoe wound herself around my body, fussing with my belt. She kissed me, soft and pleading. "Pleeeese. It'll be great. I know, because we did it already."

Did she realize her dream had been real? "It was just a dream."

"So you can make my dream come true. Oh, Uncle Charlie, you can make me cum."

I pried her arms off my body. "Zoe-"

She grasped at me, at my arms, my belt, anything to keep me close. I pushed her back onto the bed. She laid there, a willing participant. "Uncle Charlie, don't leave me like this." He arms were wide, her legs apart, and I was hard as steel.

I ran for the door, pulling my shirt closed. "I can't. I can't." I repeated it over and over until I locked myself in the car. Zoe was naked at the door of her room, Stella beside her, as I drove away.

Damn! I couldn't give Zoe what she needed. But her mother was another story. I could go back and fix things up, even if I didn't know precisely what went wrong. The risk was losing Maggie, Felice and my life in the current time. Somehow, I felt like I owed Zoe something. Fixing her mom's sexual history was a reasonable price for real time abstinence. Maybe the power of the Cock Clock would repay my restraint and bring me back to Maggie, the one true love of my life. I'd driven aimlessly, in some industrial area just outside downtown. I found a parking lot behind some warehouses near a string of power line towers. The buzzing of the electricity was white noise. I took the Cock Clock from the trunk, where I'd stashed it after the visit to the antique shop, cuddled it to my chest, and dozed off easily.

---

I was leaning badly against a brick wall in an alley. The ground was dirt, my shoes raising dust as I got my balance and stood. Wherever I was, it looked like one of the old cowboy towns in the movies. Zoe had mentioned a sheriff. It was dusk, and one lonely car approached, plumes behind it. As the car got close, a police vehicle, hiding off to one side, pulled out, lights flashing, siren hollering. Was this the sheriff?

The lone car screeched to a halt, swerving on pavement littered with gravel, but only in that spot, as if put there on purpose. The driver of the lone car got out. When he opened the door, the dome light exposed the second passenger. I was sure it was Natalie, Zoe's mom and my wife's sister. Only much younger, probably high school senior or college freshman. Yep, this was the trip where she was to get fucked by her old man. And evidently that was going to go badly.

The sheriff and Zoe's father were talking loud, and then shouting. As soon as Dad touched the sheriff's chest, a handcuff was snapped onto his wrist. Still complaining, he was led to the patrol car's back seat. A deputy emerged from the cop car passenger side and got into Dad's driver seat. The two cars formed a miniature parade down the empty street for about two blocks. They stopped at a low-rise building that had to be the sheriff's office. I walked slowly towards their destination. If Dad were in jail, then what would become of Natalie?

Everyone went inside. I hung around, waiting for something to happen. Nothing. My curiosity won, and I entered the building. A third police officer sat at a plain wood desk. He was a big guy, and a pile of fried chicken on a paper plate was evidence how he'd gotten that way.

"Excuse me. That guy that just came in, is he locked up?"

He sucked his fingers. "Till tomorrow, when he'll face a judge for resisting arrest, speeding and using force on an officer." With that, he picked up a chicken leg and bit most of the meat off in one chomp.

I was a witness that Dad hadn't used force at all. "And the young woman who was with him?"

He wiped a paper napkin across his mouth, more spreading the grease than absorbing it. "She's being interrogated as a material witness." The officer looked me up and down. "So, who are you? Some kind of lawyer?"

"Nope, just somebody who was on the sidewalk when the incident occurred."

He smiled, bits of crunch coating and chicken stuck in his teeth. "Incident? You talk pretty fancy. And you were out after curfew. I should call the sheriff up here and have you arrested."

Then it dawned on me. Natalie's first sex wasn't with her father. It was with the sheriff, who was taking an extra benefit from his speed trap scam. I knew it in my gut that the sheriff had Natalie in some back room, sexually molesting her. That was the element of Natalie's past that caused her such grief. A rape. "Yeah, go ahead, call the sheriff."

The desk officer used a walkie-talkie, which almost slid from his hand. The answer he got was negatory. "The sheriff is busy right now. Sit down on that bench."

"No. I want to see the sheriff this instant. And I'll raise holy hell if you don't take me to him right now."

Finally, the cop put down the chicken and rubbed his hands seriously with a napkin, shredding it. "He can't be disturbed."

"The hell he can't." I rushed past the desk. Chicken eater grabbed my arm but couldn't maintain a grasp. I stumbled down the hall, with no idea where they were. The place wasn't all that big, with only a few doors. I looked inside the open ones and pushed open the others. Nothing. Just as I grabbed a handle that didn't turn, the desk officer caught up with me. "Gotcha."

Before he could drag me back to the front or into a cell, I asked, "Is this supposed to be locked?'

He looked stunned that I'd asked. "Nope. We got rules about stuff like that."

"Then open it." I maintained pressure against his pulling. But if he wanted to drag me away, he had more than enough strength.

"But the sheriff said -"

"You got rules. Follow them."

Reluctantly, the desk officer inserted the key and turned the knob. Natalie was lying on a couch, one foot on the floor, the other leg perched on the sheriff's shoulder, her skirt up around her waist, and one of the sheriff's hands at her throat. The sheriff's prick was sticking out of his pants, his knob about to get inserted into Natalie's pussy. "Quigs, I told you I wasn't -!" The sheriff saw me peeking over Quig's shoulder. "Shit! Who's that?"

"A witness," I said.

"No shit." As he stood, Natalie jumped from the couch and ran past Quigs, clinging to me. "You've got to get me out of here." She glanced down at the sheriff's exposed penis. "He was going to rape me."

The sheriff tucked his prick away and zipped up. "No, no, no." He hefted his pants.

"Yes, I saw it with my own eyes. And Quigs saw it too." The deputy's mouth hung open. "Maybe we can settle this peaceful like without any fuss. Let Natalie and her father go on their way, and we'll pretend nothing happened. No harm, no foul."

"Nothing did happen." The sheriff rubbed his chin. "Or I could lock you all up and let the judge handle the mess. He's my brother-in-law, doncha know?"

"You want this exposed in a court of law with a victim and witnesses, including Deputy Quigs here?"

The desk cop spoke up. "Quigley, my name is Quigley."

"Officer Quigley. I apologize. Do you really want to take a chance?"

The sheriff's eyes darted back and forth, between Natalie and me.

I wanted to move this along, before the immediacy faded. "So, sheriff, what's it to be?"

The sheriff toyed with his pistol. Would he shoot us all in cold blood to silence us? Not with Quigs around. Unless Quigley was to be an additional victim. Nope. Three dead bodies would be too much for even the sheriff to explain away.

"Let them all go," sighed the sheriff. You just get the hell out of my town tonight. Nothing happened. Nothing, right?"

Natalie nodded her head. "Right. Nothing at all." She pressed against me.

With a head tilt, the sheriff directed Quigs to release Natalie's father. It took less than a minute and he joined us up front.

"Natalie!" He hugged his daughter, perhaps the foreshadowing that he'd be her first lover. "You know, you're supposed to be protecting the public!" He was prepared to lecture the sheriff about civic responsibility. Natalie took one arm, me the other, and we dragged him outside. "What?"

Natalie clung to her father, as she'd done with me. "Daddy, this man saved me."

"From what?" He kissed her forehead. In a spontaneous gesture, he kissed her lips. She pulled him against her. He returned her hugs as they kissed passionately for what seemed to be hours. "Oh my!"

Natalie smiled. "I'll tell you later, after we're miles away from here." She turned to me. "Can we give you a lift?"

I thought about riding with them, sharing a motel room, and fucking Natalie to satisfaction. But that wasn't my job this jump. After that display, it was clearly her father's. And I expected that her old man would do it with a damn sight more loving than the prick sheriff. Although maybe not as good as I'd do. "No thanks."

Their red taillights were almost out of sight when I felt a deep calm falling over me, as if coaxing me to sleep. But I wasn't at all tired. Still, I couldn't shake it off. I leaned against the railing. And then the sheriff came outside, probably making sure we'd all gone. Except I hadn't. "You! You're still here!"

I barely had the energy to stand up, let alone fight him off.

With no witnesses, he grabbed my arm and dragged me personally back into the building and shoved me into a cell. "My brother-in-law Harold will edudicate your ass tomorrow." He smiled, happy in his revenge. My legs felt like Jell-O. I plopped down onto the lumpy cot and let the sleepy feeling take control as I laid back.