Transporting Brains And Not Bodies

Twinkle, twinkle little star, when life hasn't turned out the way that it was meant to be, a scientist discovers a way for people to make their dreams come true.

"Angelo and Angela sat kissing in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G."

Angelo loved Angela. They were to be married. The wedding was already planned. He was so excited and she was so happy, that is, until Maria came along to ruin everything. Casting a sexual spell over Angelo, she made three before making four with a baby.

Alas, an unfortunate mistake, Angelo loved Angela and not Maria. With her long, dark, brown hair and big, brown eyes, Angela was everything he wanted in a woman, except for one thing. She was a virgin. It was good that she was a virgin but frustratingly, she wanted to stay a virgin until her wedding night.

The love of his life, Angelo loved kissing Angela while feeling her modest sized B cup breasts and fingering and sucking her petite, dark brown nipples, before reaching beneath her skirt and beneath her panty to finger her sweet, albeit virginal, trimmed, Italian pussy. Different from an American pussy, Angela had a sweet olive pussy. With her hand firmly around his swollen cock while stroking him and looking up lovingly at him, she gave him the best blowjobs. She sexily gazed up at her future husband with her big brown eyes while stroking him, licking his balls, and sucking his cock. For a virginal woman, she was a skilled cocksucker and even though she wouldn't allow him to cum in her pussy, she readily allowed him to cum in her mouth and she swallowed his cum with all the gusto of swallowing bubbles from a guzzled glass of champagne.

Even though Angelo and Angela did everything but have sexual intercourse, with Angelo being a virgin too, as a man wanting to have more sexual experience than his wife, he wanted to know what it felt like to be inside of a woman before his wedding night. Unfortunately, being that Angela was Sicilian with strict Catholic upbringing, she was saving her virginity for her husband in her wedding bed and on her wedding night. Especially back then, the custom for a newly married Sicilian woman in Sicily was to hang her nuptial sheet out the window to prove with her own blood that she was a virgin. A bit medieval but still their custom in this small, sunny paradise of a village just outside of Palermo, Sicily, their town lay protected by a harbor and within walking distance from the coast of the Tyrrhenian Sea.

Alas, sadly, where all of his friends were having hot sex, really banging their girlfriends and seemingly fucking every women wearing a skirt, Angela was still a virgin. No conniving, convincing, and vino could change her mind from her staying that way, that is, until her wedding night. Wanting to remain faithful to his beloved, Angelo masturbated a lot while thinking of having deeply penetrating, sexual intercourse with Angela. He couldn't wait to part her clam with his penis and really pound her pussy.

If it wasn't for Maria making her presence known by teasing him, flirting with him, and making her availability known to him by flaunting her shapely, sexy body at him, he may have refrained from cheating on Angela. With Maria's long line of cleavage that advertised her abundant breasts so fully exposed, along with the impressions of her nickel sized nipples always present in her tight, braless tops, he never would have thought that there may be a way for him to have his cake and eat it too without having any repercussions. Only, little did he know, thinking with his cock instead of with his head, he thought wrong.

Grown much bigger and busier now after being away for 40 years, even though some things remained the same, other things in his small, coastal village have changed drastically and improved dramatically. When transported back to his home village, Angelo barely recognized the countryside outside of Palermo, that is, if it wasn't for the fact that he was returning there precisely at 3:33pm, on April 24, 1972, Angela's 22nd birthday and the day of their wedding. Only, their wedding was cancelled because of Maria. She was pregnant with Angelo's baby, a boy, they named Vito.

"I'm pregnant Angelo," she said flipping her pretty chin up at him as if she was giving him the finger.

"Fungool," said Angelo.

"Fungool? Fungool you Angelo."

"Pregnant? I can't believe you're pregnant Maria."

"What are you going to do about me being pregnant? Huh?" She asked with attitude while pushing out her curvy hip before putting her hand on it. "Are you going to make me an honest woman by giving your child your name?"

"Fungool," he said again. "My name? How can I give you my name when I'm marrying Angela? I can't give two women my name."

Shorter than Angela, Maria wasn't as pretty as Angela, only she was no dog by any means. Angela was just than much more good looking. Only when compared to Angela did Maria pale in comparison. If Maria was to walk in a crowded room, all eyes would be on her, that is, until Angela arrived. Yet, what Angela lacked in tits and hips, Maria had those body parts covered in spades. With the bad attitude and the bodacious body to be a big, beautiful, black woman from Detroit, only being that she was a Sicilian Italian, she was about to make Angelo an offer he'd best not refuse.

"Fungool."

Not a bad looking woman, Maria had big, D cup breasts, so much bigger than Angela's barely there B cup breasts. Because Maria was so young, barely 22-years-old, she seldom wore a bra, even though with her massive breasts she should help support them from sagging, swaying, and bouncing around whenever she ran to give Angelo a hug and a passionate, wet kiss. Yet, in the way that Angela, with her tall, slender, and shapely body, along with her olive tone complexion, looked as if she could have been from northern Italy, Milan possibly, Maria, with her shorter and squatter stature and darker complexion definitely looked more Sicilian. Especially with her big mouth and bossy attitude, there was no mistaking Maria for anything else but for a Sicilian woman. Moreover, Maria was a baby making machine and, back then, before she gained fifty pounds later in life, ten pounds with each baby she had, she exuded sex.

Where Angelo loved Angela for different reasons, her beautiful face, her kind spirit, her sense of humor, and goodness, there was something about Maria that drove Angelo wild with sexual passion. Where Angela was so good, Maria was so bad. Just as he loved Angela's blowjobs, he loved fucking Maria. Humping her with horniness, she returned his humps with passion until they developed a rhythm enough to orgasm at the same time. Torn, turned, twisted, and tormented between his all consuming love for one woman and his deep, sexual passion for the other, his decision was made for him when Maria became pregnant. Yet, with his little bird ready to fly away to Capistrano with a new man in her life and with him moving away to start his life in America, never to see her again, Angelo still loved his delicately sweet Angela.

Not very different from when men take a mistress, looking for something syrupy and sugary to eat, in the way of a female dessert, fruit pie, where Angela was the sweet dessert, soup to nuts, Maria was the full, seven course meal, a literal banquet feast of womanhood. Only, not the modern woman that Angela was, that is, except for her maintaining her virginity, Maria was so Italian, too Italian, and so very Sicilian. Definitely, Maria could be a Mafia bosses' wife. Dressed from head to toe in black for the rest of her life, she'd even bode well as his widow should her husband not meet with her demanding expectations and have a premature demise not so much from the sharpness of her tongue or from the bullets of his rival gang, but from the slashing skill of her quick hand when wielding a knife. Best to lock up the knives whenever Maria was riled, she had a Sicilian temper and Angelo feared her in the way that Saint Peter feared the Devil.

"Pregnant? You're pregnant? I can't believe you're pregnant. We only had sex once, a couple of times, a few times maybe, but not more than a couple dozen times. You can't be pregnant Maria. How could you do that to me? Why aren't you on birth control?"

If she had a knife in her hand she would have stabbed him. Surely, she would have slashed, cut him, and watched him bleed to death.

"Birth control?" Talking as much with her hands as she did with her big mouth, she waved her hand in front of his face at him. "I'm Catholic stupido. How could I do that to you? Faccia brutta! You're the one who made me pregnant asshole," she said with her face getting red and that little vein pushing through the skin on her forehead.

"Mama Mia, but I'm marrying Angela, Maria. I can't marry you too, can I?"

"Mama Mia my ass. I'm more than enough woman for any man. You won't need Angela after being married to me," said Maria talking with her hands again. "I don't know what you even saw in that tall, skinny bitch, Angela. She must have given you one Hell of a blowjob because I know for a fact that she's a virgin. She thinks her pussy is made of Vatican gold and she's too good to be fucked. I spit on her," she said spitting at his feet. "I'll wipe the street with her if she dares come between me and my man."

Oh, oh, as if he was unclaimed land, she's already staked her claim to his head, his heart, and his ass by declaring him belonging to her.

"Seriously, Maria, how can I marry you when I'm marrying Angela?"

"After I kill her, how can you marry her when she'll be dead and buried in the ground," said Maria with a look of seriousness that told him, perhaps she'd be more suited to be the wife of a Mafia Don and the mother to the Godfather's children than to me married to him and be the mother of his children.

"Can't you get an abortion?"

"An abortion?" As if there was a mouse by her feet, she jumped off the floor with the mere mention of the word abortion. "Get an abortion? An abortion? You want me to abort my fetus? Are you crazy?" She signed herself before looking up to God.

"Yeah, I mean no. I'm not crazy but I'd like for you to have an abortion so that we can forget this ever happened and I can marry my true love, Angela," he said taking a step back when he thought horns were about to sprout from her head.

"I'm Catholic. A sin against God and the church, Catholics don't have abortions. We suffer through our mistakes," she said nodding her head.

"Maria. Please. I beg you not to have this child," said Angelo with tears in his eyes.

"I'm sorry Angelo. You made your bed. It's in God's hands now," she said signing herself again. "You must marry me instead of Angela and that's that," she said whipping off her hands as if they were coated with salt after she poured salt in his broken heart.

Now it was Angelo's turn to get mad and he pointed his finger of accusation at her.

"You tricked me. You made me make love to you. You forced me to have sex with you. You're such a little puttana."

"Little puttana? After they stand you up beside me at the altar, my brothers will kill you before I have a bastard baby without a name and a proper baptism. I'm no man's puttana," she said pointing a finger in his face before lifting her big tits with both hands as if she was about to toss them over her shoulders in readiness for a fight.

"Fucking puttana. That's what you are. You're a whore."

"Puttana? A whore? I'm no puttana and I'm no whore. I suppose I tricked you into removing my clothes while you kissed and kissed me. I'm a witch. I vexed you. Is that it? I cast you in a love spell. I tricked you into sucking my big tits while fingering my wet pussy. While licking my pussy, I forced you to drink my magic potion, my pussy juices, instead of wine. Is that what you're saying and is that what you believe?"

"Jesus Maria, I can't believe you got yourself pregnant," said Angelo sick to his stomach.

"As if you weren't there? I got myself pregnant? How dare you! I made you make love to me by making your cock hard enough with my mouth so that you could fuck me. Is that it? I forced you to have sex with me by overpowering you and impaling my pussy with your cock. Is that it? I put the words in your mouth when you said, I love you Maria. I love you. I really, really love you, while you were really, really fucking me. Stupido!"

Yeah, he fucked her and yes the sex was good but she was the type of woman that he just had to look at her to get her pregnant. Moreover, she was the type of forceful and aggressive woman that already had her claws in him so deep that he was no longer his own man. He was her man. Forsaken, he was doomed.

Thinking with his cock instead of his brain, especially after a little too much vino, he should have known better than to have anything to do with Maria. The epitome of the Italian Mama before she even delivered a child, with those big hips and those big jugs filled with milk, she was born to have a big family. With one foolish act, Angelo ruined Angela's life and changed his destiny forever. With no way out but to marry her, he was doomed forever. Forever, he'll be paying for this one mistake. Forever, he'll have to live with Maria instead of with Angela, his true love. Forever, he'd wonder how different his life would have been living in Italy if he married Angela instead of marrying Maria and moving to the United States of America. Forever, his life was ruined forever.

* * * * *

"Who shall speak against the union of this man and this woman, speak now or forever hold your peace," said the priest looking all around the church while waiting for someone to object to the marriage. He continued when no one came forward. "I now pronounce you Angelo and you Maria, husband and wife. You may kiss your bride."

With his thoughts with more and more with Angela, pining for the loss of her, Angelo slept in a cold bed with his wife Maria. After she gave birth to Vito, Mario, Julio, Filippo, and Maria, giving her all the children that she so wanted, he was done with her and it had been a years since they had sex. Food, instead of sex, became their passion and with all the cooking and baking she did, he had gained 100 pounds since being married to her and she had gained fifty. He remembered the days when they were so hot for one another. Forty years later, he wondered how different his life would have been had he married Angela instead of marrying Maria. Only, now just a sexual fantasy instead of a lifetime commitment, he'll never know the answer to that question.

Listening for the sounds of his wife sleeping, snoring actually, he reached in his pajama bottom and fondled the head of his cock while thinking of Angela naked. Naked, naked, naked, he thought of Angela's full, red lips. He thought of her modest, B cup breasts and her small, dark brown nipples. He thought of her pussy and how he loved to lick her and make her cum. He remembered all the times she sucked his cock while staring up at him before he exploded his sexual passion for her in her mouth and before she swallowed all that he had to give.

"Angela, Angela, Angela..."

He wondered where she was now and who was she with. No doubt, she was sucking another man's cock while he was fucking another woman, a woman he didn't love in the way that he loved Angela. He wondered if she was with a man that she didn't love too. In the way he was touching himself now, he wondered if when she touched herself she thought of him. Always with him in his thoughts, he wondered if she still thought of him in the way that he still thought of her. Forty years later, he wondered what she looked like now. He wondered if she looked the same or if she grew fat in the way that he and his wife had grown fat.

"Angela, Angela, Angela," he whispered while stroking his cock and sexually fantasying about his beloved Angela.

"Fungool Angelo. Stop playing with yourself and go to sleep," said Maria with an elbow to his ribs.

* * * * *

Dr. Louis Durkin, a scientist working with a grant in an Massachusetts Institute of Technology laboratory, couldn't remember when he saw the light of day last. Sequestered in his lab, he arrived before sunrise and left late at night. Emerging from out of the darkness and into the light, he walked out of his lab for the last time defeated, defamed, disillusioned, despondent, and depressed. Having to leave this chapter of his professional career unwritten in the way a writer abandons a story because of an elusive ending, in his case, an unproven theory, with his research unfinished, his life was over. A dismal failure and having lost all his credibility among his peers and colleagues, after prematurely broadcasting and publishing his success, no one would hire him now. Feeling certain that he'd win the Nobel Prize for Science, he'd win nothing more than a booby prize now. How so embarrassing.

Even though he had tenure, even though he could fight them in court with the help of the teachers' union, he decided to take their generous severance package and resign in disgrace. His cherished alma mater, he had embarrassed the university he so loved. The students, even his colleagues, made fun of him. Calling him a Trekkie, they called him Captain Jerk, instead of Captain Kirk, and called him Dr. Spoof instead of Dr. Spock the laughing stock, after his research had summarily failed before prematurely ending.

Getting here so early and leaving so late, it was always an eerie feeling to see the college campus so deserted. Normally, he had students available to help him unload and carry supplies in his lab. Today, when he needed the help the most to load his rental truck with all of his belongings, he had no one but his sad, defeated self. With all the free advice, the jobs, and the internships that he gave his students over the years, there wasn't one person to help him pack. After paying him so much respect and giving him so many accolades, as if he had already won the Nobel Prize, now feeling duped and deceived, no one wanted to be seen with him, an embarrassed failure of the university.

* * * * *

Ten years ago today, it was a rainy day that inflamed his passion to succeed. Ten years later, it was a grey October day that melted his resolve to quit rather than to continue in disgrace while looking for something that wasn't there. In the way that George Bush looked for non-existent weapons of mass destruction, Dr. Durkin looked for proof of his molecular transportation theory. Theoretical it was possible. Only, theoretically, he was unable to prove it. A theory is just a theory without having scientific evidence and conclusive proof that would prove his theory. Tired, hot, and sweaty, never to return again, he just wanted to pack his truck and leave his beloved campus forever. For him to move forward, he had to put all of this behind him.

Each year, with more funding in place, he had hoped for a breakthrough of his exhaustive but failed experiments to invent a molecular transporter, much like the one they had on Star Trek. He always thought it possible to turn the human form into energy and reconvert it back to flesh, bone, and blood. Unfortunately, ahead of the current technology and without being able to try, experiment on, and tinker with the process on a human form, now admittedly the process of dematerialization and re-materialization was years away from being a reality. A dismal failure, he felt like such the mad scientist. Way before his time, for him to succeed in transporting objects, never mind humans, just to store the complete DNA information on hard drives of one human being before being transported, he'd need a storage facility as big as the Empire State building and a supercomputer to process such encoded information was way out of his grant funding budget.

What he thought possible in saving DNA instructions, before transporting humans, was impossible to replicate in the lab. Forensic scientists work with pieces of DNA strands daily but not as a whole and certainly not as exhaustively in the way that he was required to work with the complete nucleic acids that contain the genetic codes needed to preserve the DNA encoded functioning strands of all known living organisms. Even as a scientist who doesn't believe and who has never believed in God, it's difficult not to believe in God or some Alien being after seeing all that makes up one person, never mind the billions and billions of iterations of the human race. Just one mistake, one miscoding, one missing bit or unreadable byte of computer information, and only God knows what could happen and what monster he'd create. Even if the FDA and a dozen other Federal and state agencies approved him to go forward with human experimentation, unless someone was on death row or dying of cancer anyway, no human would dare volunteer to serve as his human guinea pig.