The Cock ClockChapter 12 free porn video

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.

An incessant hum, like millions of insects, woke me from sleep. I was on something softer than the lumpy jail cot. Hesitant to open my eyes, I stretched my arms. My hand bumped against bars. Was I still in jail? Slowly I opened my eyes. I was still locked up, just not the jail cell. I swung my feet around and sat up to examine my surroundings. I was confined in a metal cage located in a large room. Illumination was provided by a few bare bulbs at the ceiling and rows of machines with blinking lights along the walls. A video monitor mounted on a large casket-shaped metal box about twenty feet away showed my clock. Was it inside the casket? It might as well have been twenty miles.

A voice came out of the darkness. It was nasally and weak. "I see you're awake?"

I grabbed the bars. "Yeah. Where am I? Can you let me out of here?"

A short man with thinning white hair wearing a white lab coat stepped from the darkness. "I'm afraid it would be imprudent for me to give you any information. You brought back my device, and for that I am thankful. I've been worried about what havoc it could cause in the wrong hands." He waved his arm. "There's a silver stick next to the mattress. See it?"

I bent over. Sure enough, a 1/2-inch diameter metal baton with perforations on one end, like a microphone appeared. "Got it."

"Press the button on the end and rub it along your body."

"Why?"

"Just do it, for your own sake."

A small red light came on, confirming the stick was operational. There were faint ticks as I scanned my body. "What are you looking for?"

"Radiation."

I swallowed hard. "From what?"

"My device is powered by a plutonium ion battery. Sounds like there's been no leaks."

Shit! A nuclear powered clock was jumping me around? Good thing I didn't let it drop when - which one of my wives? - threw it at me. I pointed at the clock's image on the video monitor. "You made that thing?"

"Why, yes, right here. I'd lost track of it a number of years ago. But recently, I picked up its activity. I presume that was you. It took a while before I could generate enough power to divert it - and you - back home."

I scratched my head and then tried to arrange my hair without comb or mirror. "Which is where, exactly?"

"Now, now, I am not going to fall for any of your feeble ploys. You already know too much. What I need to decide is, after your debriefing, what I will do with you."

Doc's comment sounded ominous. Would this little scientist actually consider something fatal? Why, was he hiding something? What would be so valuable, anyway? "I don't know much. Less than you'd imagine. The clock just takes me places." I decided he didn't deserve any more information. Besides, he knew what the clock did.

"Places you reached via transmogrifications along a space/time fault."

I'd called them jumps. "Whatever. So now that you have it back, what are you going to do?" Bounce off somewhere and have first time sex with a young woman?

A door at the far end swung open, outside sunlight bursting in. The clack of shoes on the cement floor made Doc scurry in its direction. Maybe another visitor wasn't welcome. Although their voices echoed, I couldn't make out the words, only the emotion. They were arguing. The clacks got closer. Doc was shouting.

The visitor was a young woman. In the dimly lit building, her face was radiant, a natural glow I'd never witnessed. Who was this creature of desire? Doc's assistant? Maybe his daughter, given her casual clothes and dismissive behavior. She sported a blonde ponytail, with a cute face, mature breasts under a button down shirt and tight jeans that promised nicely shaped legs.

She approached my cell. I wanted her to step up on the platform and put her face close enough to kiss but she stayed on the ground. "Hey. So who are you, and why does Daddy have you locked up?"

Doc answered before I could. "I didn't capture him. He transmogrified here. By himself." Doc coughed. "After I made some last minute adjustments to the temporal guidance system, overriding the self-programmed trajectory."

I should have jumped 'home' to some version of a marriage, hopefully Maggie, and perhaps daughter Felice as well. Doc was claiming he diverted me. "My name is Charlie, and you'll have to ask him why I'm locked up."

She turned to her father, hands on hips. "So what are you doing now? Resuming experiments? You promised me you'd stop."

Experiments? "Can somebody please tell me what's going on?"

"Dad's been experimenting with time travel for as long as I can remember." She put down her backpack. "At first, he'd send animals. Rabbits. My dog!" She glared at her father. "Then he sent Mama away!"

"Jazz is correct. Up until Louise left, I'd been testing the device, sending animals on round trips with a programmed auto-return feature." Doc's face got a bit red when he faced his daughter. "But I did not send your mother away! I told you, she stole the device-"

"I don't believe you. I heard the fights." The daughter crossed her arms.

It was a nosey question but the obvious one. "Was she dissatisfied with your sex life?"

"Sex?" they shouted in unison.

"Jazz, I think you should leave," said Doc.

"I will not! Charlie needs someone to protect him. From you." Jazz's face held my attention. I hung on her every word. "Besides, I know about sex. I'm past the age of consent, you know. I can have sex if I want." Jazz shot me a smile.

Maybe Doc was wrong. Maybe he hadn't coaxed me here with his machinery. Maybe the Cock Clock brought me here to deflower Jazz. There was no way Doc would let me anywhere close to his daughter. Hell, he wouldn't even tell me where we were.

"I don't want to hear you talking like that. All right, you can stay. But it's against my better judgment." Doc took one step closer to my cage. "My sex life is none of your business." He glanced at his daughter, who was listening intently. "All right, Charlie, let's exchange information. What kinds of things did you attempt to change on your transmogrification journeys? You were joking about sex, weren't you? You tried to prevent the Kennedy's assassination perhaps?"

His mention of that event cut down the possibilities for what year I'd jumped into. I had to be past November 1963. I'd talked to the old shopkeeper about that, immediately after the first time jump. But she explained that the device was limited in purpose. "The clock doesn't allow for that. The only thing it did was send me back to-" I looked at Jazz. "- to give young women their first sexual experience."

"You used the device to support a wanton sexual lifestyle?" Doc paced, waving his arms. "How could you? You pervert!"

I grasped the bars of my cage. "You don't understand. I didn't pick the destinations, the clock did. You just said self-programmed, right? Besides, these were women whose first experience had been traumatic. Rapes. Hurtful partners. I was making things better, preparing them for a fulfilling sex life." That had been my consistent rationalization.

Doc ran his hands from front to back on his head. "This is impossible. Yes, the device has pheromone sensing technology, but never in all of my years did I ever conceive!" Doc's head slumped as he continued muttering to himself. "I didn't believe it-" He took unpredictable steps, wandering around the room.

"Did Mom want the same thing?" Jazz followed her father's random path. "Tell me, Daddy! Is that why she left?"

Doc stopped wandering and rubbed his daughter's shoulder. "Your mother left a note. Evidently, she wanted to reunite with her high school boyfriend, to correct what she viewed as a mistake. I'm so sorry."

She leaned on her father's shoulder. "But she never came back." Doc's daughter's head hung. "Didn't she love me?"

"Of course she did, with all of her heart. As soon as I realized she was gone, I tried to track her, to retrieve her and the device. But the temporal tracking circuits weren't properly calibrated. By the time I corrected the error, I'd lost her."

"She might not be dead," I offered. As a time jumper, the device had never harmed me, although like Doc said, the calibrations for me were different. "Maybe she took up with her old boyfriend, or skipped off to some other timeframe."

"When she didn't return, I thought the device had malfunctioned or melted down in some other time period. Despite her note, I never considered the possibility that she would run away voluntary."

"She loved you, Daddy." Jazz's eyes were clear and blue and soul piercing. "I know she did."

"I checked old newspaper files, looking for reports of explosions and such. Nothing. Only recently did I get a series of active readings from the device. Someone was using it." He pointed a finger. "You, sir, were using the device. It took a while for me to get a strong-enough signal. But I did. Which is why you are here instead of with your target."

"I never thought of the women as targets." I hadn't even had sex with a younger version of my sister in law on my last jump. I left that to her father. Nope, I was just trying to get out of jail and back to real-time, whatever that was.

Jazz came closer to her father. "So Mama stole the device? Really? To hook up with an old boyfriend?"

"That is correct. I didn't select her as the first human test subject."

Jazz had claimed her father had experimenting jumping animals. Did he really send a rabbit back in time, to mate with a young bunny?

Jazz gripped her father's lab coat lapels. "If Charlie here could show up here, can't Mama?"

"I wouldn't know where to send the device, or if she'd use it to return."