Everyone is 18+ in the this story of love and lust with family. I rode the short bus in school and am dyslexic and use software and editors to make it fun to read. Everyone in this story is 18+
You can't go Home.
Book 2
I say. "I'm sorry my story is so long, but I must share everything with you after you telling me yours. Jenny, you did not have to tell me about your Dad. You made it sound not very pleasant. I have no clue how or why I'm telling you this. I have not told a soul this before. Except I want to start fresh, leaving the old pains behind."
I pull my shirt back, showing you my shoulder. You reached out, touching it. I felt your warmth it covered me like a Mothers hug.
Jenny says. "You got shot over your mother; you're right; I'm glad you're talking."
I was talked out, the feelings had my eyes wet, and it gave me the sniffles, but oddly, it felt good Jenny's smile with her soft hand on my arm. We stopped outside San Antonio for a giant burger on a fourteen-inch bun the biggest Texas has ever seen. It's got a pound of meat and bacon and venison sausage. We ordered one and split it, but we split an order of onion rings and ordered two more. We laughed and cried, complaining about not feeling the earth as we sped by. I saw a turn-off to a lake and a state campground called Canyon Lake. I've never been, I asked. "If skinny-dipping at dawn was a thing we could do to feel the earth again?"
Jenny says. "Better make a U-turn then, Dan. We got fourteen hours to kill till dawn. I'm starting to like how you think even if you, are a motherfucker makes us an odd pair, huh, we both are sinners. Guess there's no coming back for either of us will we find peace?"
Getting a cabin with a roof and screens was a few bucks and a wall of slats for privacy on the backside of the cabin in the state park. I had blankets and one sleeping bag. Spreading them out on the built-in cots, they are built into the floor. There was an open sleeping area in the back of the cabin. Although it had no roof, it was excellent in the mid-afternoon sun. You dropped your things. I did say skinny dipping. I dropped my things also, and we lay on the cots getting sun. We talked about music, love, regret, and everything naked under the sky. There was a ceiling fan and a light bulb fixture with a power plug and a fly zapper inside. It made zap noises when it took out a bug.
I must have dozed off a bit in the warm sun. I feel hands on my feet. You're putting sunscreen on me; you did me all, including my hard-standing upright cock. You motion me to turn over. I folded my cock, and it was a few seconds before you started to rub oil on me.
You finished and asked. "You cool to do me with the sunscreen? I got major baggage in the bedroom, Dan. I'm sorry, I need human touch, but I don't have sex. It's been at least sixteen years. Everyone so far has felt wrong, Dan, you know what I mean? For most of my dates, they felt just wrong. I never touched them or let them touch me. My Dad felt way wrong coming into my room at night. His sister would watch at the doorway that started as my eighteenth birthday party was going on downstairs."
You cried; I got up, went to your cot, and held your naked body. As you sobbed, your tears felt hot on my chest the tears dripped on my hard cock. Like holding Samantha, my Mom cut and bruised my boner went soft, and I started putting oil on you. I was not making love to you, nor was I trying to turn you on as your tears stopped. I had you lay down and covered you in oil. You got up, went to the ice chest, and brought us soft drinks.
You asked. "Can we put our swimsuits on and take a swim"
We did and hung up our wet things on a clothesline outside the back of the cabin getting back. Then, finally, we fixed dinner of cold sandwiches and fruit salad; we had the last of Gingers cookies.
I took a bite of one. It flashed in my heart. I teared up and said. "My third lady, we could never get over just one thing our age difference; these are her cookies. She gave me the recipe and forty other things to make in the kitchen taster. She sent me away so she could die of cancer. She gave me the Volvo outside. She called her daughter over to throw me out. I wanted to stay till the end..."
My tears started now you held me. I felt right, not happy or horny, but right as we are doing; it felt right, healing even. We held each other, we ate, and I started to walk out to the car to get my laptop to play music with.
I hear. "Hey sexy, you walk out like that in the daylight; the cops will arrest you for a damn decent exposure."
Laughing, I put my pants on, going out to the car, and I first start playing from my files on the hard drive as I check for WiFi and log on to check my email messages.
My Lawyer's email says. "The Feds, it's unsure where this is coming from. Your frozen accounts are on hold with a court order; strangely, a past CEO with the same last name as Susan did, and the company's records are shredded hours before the raid at their office. So it's their word against yours at this point."
I sent an email back. "I got all those records in my hard drive, the one the Feds took. I bet you cash. They never even looked." Can I send it if you want the files? I am checking on them now. It may have to go Dropbox to get there."
He says. "Sure, I get a local judge to sign them as evidence for your case. We got a hearing in front of the judge. I'll see if they can unfreeze your money."
My Landlords paranoia rubbed off on me. I ran to the car and brought in my old laptop. Powered it up, I told Jenny the story about me at work. How my landlord sent me away because police looked in my place, took my things, then copied my hard drives. I opened and checked the history. I found a GPS app added. It was running in the background, and I logged off the internet, checked my metered usage on my WiFi, and the GPS tracker was still active.
It was not an app, but it used an app. I opened my old laptop because the screw heads were chipped using the wrong tool. I had the right tools in my bag. I have always been handy with tools and found new hardware added to the video card and removed it. It had a thumbprint on the underside of the cooling fan where someone messed with the motherboard the dust that the cooling fans suck in coated the print making it stand out.
I took photos with my film camera. I would have the film processed, scanned, and sent the negative to my FBI lady. A note on the laptop showed that a GPS tracker was wired into the motherboard, pulled the battery out, and was finely inactive. We stayed two days not getting dressed, swimming naked at dawn. I got hard a few times but did not act like my bone was hard. You did touch me more and more, just not there. You use my laptop to email your friends to let them know you are good we are having fun.
When my Lawyer was able to get back to me the next day later, a phone call says. "He got the Feds to look into the files by sending them a request for the files. Your bank has been fun talking to you. They just froze your Credit cards. We have a hearing next week. Can you hold out cash-wise till then? I can wire you money if you need it?"