After The Energists: Rebooted Teen YearsChapter 49: She Blinded Me With Science free porn video
Robertson’s House, Komoka, Ontario
6:55pm, Saturday, March 10, 1979
“Are you ladies up for a little zing with your steaks?” I asked Lynette and her mother, Ms. Dillon, as I looked at the spice rack in the Robertson’s kitchen pantry.
I was finally over the surprise and shock of hearing Mrs. Robertson’s story of how she convinced my mother to let me stay overnight here after our day in Chatham at the WOSSA Gymnastics’ meet.
“Isn’t this teriyaki marinade good enough for you, Cuda?” Lynette replied as she held up the bottle of Lowry’s at the fridge door.
“Where’s you sense of adventure, Lynette? What do you have in mind, Mike?” Mrs. R quizzed both of us in rapid fire fashion.
“I get enough adventure with Cuda, already, Mom,” Lynette giggled as she shook the bottle of her favorite marinade.
“Really? Care to relate these adventures to me, young man?” Mrs. R playfully put me on the spot after Lynette’s adventure comment.
“I’d rather describe the spicy rub I hope to use with these pretty rib-eye steaks,” I quickly replied hoping to avoid that topic of discussion, which Lynette serendipitously opened.
“Good save, Cuda,” Lynette chuckled as she put the bottle of Lowry’s back into the fridge’s door slot.
“Spicy steak-rub or the adventures of Mike with my daughter, hum ... steak-rub or adventures?” Lynette’s mom opined as she rubbed her chin with her right hand while staring up at the kitchen ceiling. “Well, I am getting hungry, so I guess this spicy concoction wins ... for now.”
“Cuda can still regale us while grilling them or at the dining table, Mom,” Lynette offered, which immediately caused me to give her my best evil-eyed grin.
“We’ll see,” Mrs. R said and then she gave me a subtle wink. “So, what do you need to make this steak-rub, Mike?”
“Uh, if my memory serves me right, I’ll need some chili powder,” I replied as I started to count on my fingers as I listed the remaining ingredients, “paprika, ground cumin and oregano, if you have some; a little black pepper, and cayenne pepper; plus some brown and regular sugar. Lastly, I’ll need a bit of this salt.”
“We should have everything you need,” Mrs. Robertson said as she started to walk over to the pantry. “I’ll get the canister of brown sugar from the bottom shelf.”
As Lynette’s mom bent over and dropped to her knees at the pantry door, her blue and white blouse fell away from her chest. While I looked for the small spice bottles in the wire-rack on the pantry door, the enticing sight of Mrs. R’s blue and gold patchwork bra captured my attention. Seeing her right covered breast for a second or two triggered my memories of our time in the Sarnia emergency room when she removed her button down shirt so Lynette could wear it due to her injured shoulder.
I wasn’t sure how long I was staring at the spices on the pantry door’s wire rack as I recreated the picture of Mrs. R’s full breasts straining to break free of their frilly encasement. The sound of Lynette’s Mom’s voice from down in front of me snapped me out of that crystal clear revelry.
“Is that enough brown sugar, Mike?”
“Earth to Cuda, Earth to Cuda,” Lynette quickly added as I tried to figure out exactly what her mom was asking.
“I have a half-cup, is that enough for your rub?” Mrs. R reiterated as she sat back on her heels and looked up at me.
“Oh, uh ... yes, that is more than enough brown sugar. I won’t need more than a couple of tablespoons of any of those ingredi...” As I looked back down at Lynette’s mom, I became tongue-tied once more when she lifted the small bag of brown sugar and her left arm pushed her breast inward. That innocent maneuver caused her light brown nipple to become visible for a brief moment.
“Momma!“ Lynette cried from just behind my dumbstruck position. “Cuda doesn’t need to see any more thirty-seven-year-old boobs ... at least before he sees my boobs, again.”
Lynette’s initial cry snapped me out of my stupor, and I started to apologize for staring down at her mom’s exposed breasts when Mrs. R said, “Oh, goodness, sorry about that, Mike. W-w-wait a second ... whose thirty-seven-year-old boobs did you view, when?”
“He saw Toxic’s mom, Viktoriya naked, today,” Lynette quickly replied.
“Volcano!” I cried both at the frankness of my girlfriend’s reply and because I thought Lynette’s memory of that unbelievable event should have been suppressed.
“What? ... Oh my lord!” Lynette stared at me and then shrieked when she realized what she said to her mother.
“You saw Angelika’s mom ... her birth mother who just arrived here from the Ukraine ... naked? How? What went on at Wheels?” Mrs. R incredulously asked as she rocked back up onto her feet. She quickly transferred her gaze between her daughter and me.
“God, I’m sorry ‘bout that, Mike. I just ... that just slipped out and...”
“It’s, it’s okay, Cano. I, uh, I didn’t think you were able to remember that,” I said as I gave Lynette a hug.
“What’s going on? Spill it ... NOW!” Mrs. R testily said as she stepped back from the pantry door and looked at us with irritation and confusion in her eyes.
I quickly grabbed to remaining two bottles of spices I needed for the steak-rub from the pantry door, and turned back to the Robertson ladies and said, “I’m not exactly sure what is going on, right now, but...”
“No buts,” Mrs. R said in a clearly peeved tone.
“Okay,” I replied and looked at my girlfriend, who looked like she was about to cry. “Lynette, I don’t understand how you remembered what happened today, but, uh, it appears that our ‘friends‘ want your mother to know what is going on with me, with us.”
“Maybe she can help us figure it out,” Lynette added as she rubbed her eyes with her right knuckles.
“Figure what out? You two have my head spinning and I haven’t had a drop of wine ... yet,” Mrs. R said as she placed her right palm against her forehead.
“Mrs. R,” I calmly said as Lynette’s mom set the bag of brown sugar on the kitchen counter and then rested both of her hands on the counter’s edge. When she turned to look at me, I continued, “This will seem unbelievable to you, but what I’m ... we’re about to relate to you is the absolute truth.”
Lynette and I spent the next twenty minutes explaining everything about my return from the future, and that Mrs. R and Paul and Cathy’s parents were the only adults who knew about this incredible adventure. Because Lynette was able to help me with this revelation for her mother, I was able to put together the spices and sugars for the steak-rub as we related this story.
After I put the mixture on the rib-eyes and washed my hands, Mrs. R said, “So, you’re a sixteen-year-old super kid, with the memories and experiences of a forty-year-old. Plus, you’ve got a super computer to help you out with additional knowledge and suggestions from these Energist beings.”
“I don’t know about the super kid thing, but the rest of it is basically correct,” I replied as I dried my hands on a hand-towel. “What I don’t understand now, though, is how Lynette was able to remember what happened with Viktoriya in Chatham. This super kid was supposed to be able to block memories of things related to the Energists, and Lynette even agreed to forget that experience when Viktoriya requested that of us.”
“Let me think on this for a while. Maybe there is something here that needs another adult’s perspective,” Mrs. R replied as she pushed herself up from the counter and off her high bar-stool. “Everyone thinks better after a good meal, and I bet those steaks are going to taste wonderful. Lynette, why don’t you run out back and light the grill, while I get a salad ready?”
“‘Kay, Mom,” Lynette replied as she also jumped down from her bar-stool. “Can, uh, we get into the Jacuzzi after we eat?”
“I don’t see why not,” Lynette’s mom replied as her daughter moved to the sliding glass door between the living room and their covered porch.
“I’m gonna go put my new two-piece on, then; after I light the grill.”
“Uh, I don’t have a pair of trunks here,” I stammered to Mrs. R.
“You can wear one of Gary’s swimming trunks, Mike. I doubt he’ll mind.”
I was about to say something when I saw Mrs. R peer towards her daughter, and then quickly look back at me with her finger at her lips. When Lynette came back into the house and headed back to her bedroom, Mrs. R calmly said, “What you and Lynette told me was a little shocking, but I kinda had a feeling there was something extraordinary, something adult-like about you and the way Lynette has acted since you began dating her. You really care about her, I can tell, and I know you’d never do anything to hurt her.”
“No, never,” I interjected.
“Please, Mike, let me get this out before Lynette returns, ‘kay?”
I simply nodded and smiled at the beautiful mom of my gorgeous girlfriend.
“I know you’ve been sexually active with my baby, and I’m happy that you two are having a good time together. Lynette has told me everything you’ve done with her and, uh, with some of the other girls. When we’ve talked, she can’t wipe the silly grin off her face as she relates some of the things that you’ve done. However, I’m concerned that Lynette may be developing too much of a submissive side when it comes to sex. I want her to experience more than a master-submissive relationship, so she can see what other types of sex are like. So, uh, while what you’ve done has been super exciting, things like screwing in the bathroom at school with your teammates around, or taking charge of her and Cathy, if I can request something for my baby, would you please show Lynette what normal love-making feels like every now and then.”
I tried my best to process everything Mrs. R was saying about Lynette’s, about our sexual activities, and how her daughter might be missing out on simple TLC. I started to speak, when Mrs. R nodded her head towards Lynette’s bedroom direction.
She then whispered, “You two can stay in my bedroom tonight, after getting out of the Jacuzzi. Please give her a night of soft and sensual sex. Allow her to experience that side of love-making.”
My smile and subtle nod let Mrs. R know that I understood her request and would be more than happy to show Lynette a night of passion. As I picked up the platter with the rib-eye steaks, I felt Lynette pressed her nearly nude body up against my back.
“Do you need help grilling those steaks?” Lynette softly asked as she loosened her hug and allowed me to turn towards her. Lynette wore her best poker face as she leaned away from me to show off her small fire-engine red bikini top, which barely contained her high, firm breasts. Lynette’s incredible nipples were obviously hard and made the thin material work overtime to prevent them from appearing to my and her mother’s gaze.
“I, uh, I think I can handle the grilling, but you’re more than welcome to come out on the porch with me while these steaks are fired up.”
“You didn’t take that bikini with you to Chatham, did you?” Mrs. R asked her now grinning daughter.
“No-ahh! I actually took my red and white one-piece suit. This little thing isn’t a ‘swimming and fooling around in public’ type suit.”
“That is definitely a ‘little’ bikini, and, um, I’m glad you realized that wouldn’t have been an appropriate suit for any type of water activities,” Lynette’s mom said.
“Do you like it, Cuda?” Lynette asked me as she stepped away from me and did a slow twirl in the kitchen.
“It definitely looks goooood ... on you. Shows off your tan.”
“It definitely shows a lot MORE than her tan, if you ask me, Mike,” Mrs. R chuckled and then walked around the counter to the refrigerator to get out the salad fixings, and dressings.
“Lead on, Cano,” I said as I watched my girlfriend’s bubble butt sashay into the living room on the way to the covered porch. “Damn,” I softly whispered as the red material of her bikini bottom inched slowly into her crack with each of her exaggerated feminine steps.
“Like the rear view, too, huh?” Lynette snickered over her shoulder as she reached the sliding glass door. After she opened it, my girlfriend reached behind her and pulled the red swatch of material completely into her ass crack and then shook her ninety-nine percent buck-naked ass for me.
As I was grilling the steaks, I noticed the chilly March evening air was having a marvelous effect on Lynette. There was no mistaking the exact location of her diamond hard, puffy nipples within her candy apple red string bikini top.
When she wrapped her arms under her breasts and gave a slight shivering shake, I gallantly said, “Why don’t you run back inside? These guys will be done in another two to three minutes.”
“I’m fine,” Lynette replied as she let her arms drop back to her sides.
“Oh, you are more than fine, Cano. However, if your nips get any harder out here, they’ll rip that new bikini top to shreds, which wouldn’t be good.”
A high pitched squeak escaped Lynette’s body after my statement and she then reached up and gave both of her ‘bullets’ a little pinch. “They’re definitely hard,” Cano chortled before she ran her hands down her opposite arms and added, “And I’m getting little goose-bumps all over. I guess I’ll leave you out here to finish up. Don’t let those guys get too done. Both Mom and me like our steaks on the medium-rare side.”
“Got it. Yours will be off the grill in a minute, and mine a minute or so later.”
Lynette stepped up to me and gave me a sweet kiss on the cheek before she spun around and bounced her cold, but smokin’ hot body in the warmth of her living room.
When I carried the platter with the steaks back into the house, I wasn’t too surprised to see that Mrs. R had changed into her own swimsuit while I was out back grilling. Lynette’s mom looked marvelous in a two-toned, striped pink bikini. She wore a see-through red cover-up, which fell just below her delectable boy-shorts covered butt.
The three of us sat at their breakfast nook and chowed down on the spicy steaks and Greek-style salad, which Mrs. R had put together for our dinner. I could tell that from the aimless chatter that my afternoon adventure with Viktoriya was still weighing heavily on the two ladies’ minds, since I told them earlier that I would fill them in on it as we ate.
When we were about half-way done with our meals, Lynette said, “I really like the zingy flavor of this steak, Cuda. Can you make out a list of the ingredients so we can prepare it ourselves, sometime?”
“Yes, Mike. These steaks have a wonderful bite to them. I’d love to get that spicy-rub from you,” Mrs. R added to her daughter’s compliment.
“I’ll jot the rub’s recipe down when we’re done here. Your Greek-salad dressing really added to the meal, Mrs. R.”
“I learned how to make it while working at Mikanos, while in college,” Lynette’s mom replied. “The key is using the correct ratio of extra-virgin olive oil to red-wine vinegar. You need to mix one-and-a-half parts olive oil to two parts red-wine vinegar. Then, all the other flavors in the dressing tend to pop out of the salad.”
“We all love my mom’s Greek salads,” Lynette added as she stabbed the last few pieces of her salad on her fork.
“Care to swap recipes?” I asked as I mashed the last few crumbs of feta cheese in my bowl with the tines of my fork.
“Gladly. That is a fair swap, if there ever was one,” Mrs. R chuckled. When she settled back into her chair, Lynette’s mom gave me a slight head tilt and whispered, “Are you going to finish that incredible the story about your afternoon adventure, now?”
“I, uh, did say something about finishing it while we ate, didn’t I?”
“Yes, you did,” Lynette replied as she used the napkin to wipe the corners of her mouth.
“Uh, Lynette,” I semi mumbled, which clearly indicated to the ladies that I was about to say something touchy towards my girlfriend. When my girlfriend gave me her full attention, I said to her, “Would you be terribly upset if I shared the reason for my tryst with Viktoriya with just your mother? There are some major privacy issues regarding Viktoriya and Toxic, which are still, uh, kinda troubling to me. If your mom thinks it’s okay to share with you, then I’ll bring you back into our discussion.”
“Toxic is involved in this? How?” Lynette asked.
“Yes, she is, and that is why Viktoriya asked for complete privacy regarding what happened. However, because you somehow recalled our afternoon fun-time after me thinking those memories wouldn’t be accessible to you, I’d like to get your mom’s opinion on the whole Viktoriya-Toxic situation.”
“You, uh, can exclude Lynette from our discussion?” Mrs. R asked after listening to our conversation.
“Yes. If you, Cano, don’t mind, I’d like for your mom and me to enter into one of my Energist bubbles to discuss this?”
“You promise to tell me about it, if Mom thinks I can hear about it?” Lynette softly replied.
“If your mom okays it, definitely,” I said as I rubbed my left hand over Lynette’s right arm.
Lynette looked at her mom and received a subtle nod. She then turned back to me and said, “I’ll see you in a split-second or two, then.” My girlfriend then leaned back in her chair, smiled at me and waited for her imminent return to our conversation.
Mrs. R had a concerned look on her face as she saw her daughter become ‘frozen-in-time‘ as the Energists’ bubble surrounded both of us. After she nodded towards her daughter’s stock-still form, I said, “She’s perfectly fine. We’re in an isolation bubble, and everyone outside of it appears like a statute. When we’re done here, we’ll all pick up at the exact time when Lynette became isolated from us.”
“This, uh, you’ve done this a few times, I’m guessing?” Mrs. R hesitantly asked as she still stared at her motionless daughter.
“Yes, Ma’am. I used an isolation bubble earlier today with Viktoriya. I even brought Lynette into the bubble to really rock Viktoriya’s world after she mentioned something about wanting to be intimate with beautiful ladies like Lynette or Cathy.”
“Okay, then ... this just seems...”
“Incredible or unbelievable,” I interjected when Mrs. R struggled to complete her statement.
“Yes, both.” When she fully turned her attention towards me, Mrs. R said, “All this here, kinda reminds of the music video for She Blinded Me With Science. Anyhow, Mike, tell me about you, Viktoriya and Toxic. What happened that is so far beyond everything you’ve shared with me ... that you think Lynette should be shielded from hearing?”
“Well ... instead of relating all the details of how it happened, because I’m not completely sure of them all, I’m, uh, gonna just come out and tell you the major reason why Viktoriya and I wanted what happened between us to remain completely private.”
“Okay, let me have it.”
“Me, my sixteen-year-old self and Viktoriya were somehow transported back to 1962, to Viktoriya’s home in the Ukraine, and uh ... well, there’s no other way to say this, so, uh ... we had some incredible sex, and for some unknown reason, I became ... I’m Angelika’s, Tox’s biological father.”
Mrs. R sat stone-faced across the breakfast table from me and pondered my words for about twenty seconds. She then smiled at me and made a statement which nearly caused my mind to explode. “Toxic didn’t exist; she wasn’t alive ... here in Canada at Medway High School in your previous timeline was she? Search your former memories to see if my recollection of things is correct?”
After I regained my composure, I actively searched all of my memories and realized that Mrs. R was correct. Angelika-Toxic wasn’t in them, anywhere; neither was her mother, Viktoriya. I couldn’t recall a single thing about the beautiful orphan girl from the Ukraine. Toxic wasn’t in my music or band memories, not in my sports memories or in any of my numerous high school party memories.
When I looked back at Mrs. R, she already knew the answer to her question before I asked, “How did you know that about Toxic?”
“I, uh, I got the feeling that these distinct worlds of yours were being integrated somehow for some strange, yet important reason,” Mrs. R replied as she reached across the small table to hold my hands. “You said earlier this evening that you arrived back here on Valentine’s Day morning, right?”
I hesitantly nodded ‘yes’ and gave Lynette’s mom a ‘so-what?‘ type look.
“That morning, I woke-up with a major migraine. That was the first migraine I’ve had since I was pregnant with Lynette. I haven’t had another one since. I wonder if, uh...” Mrs. R paused for a few moments to process her new thoughts.
“You’re wondering if that migraine is related to my reappearance in this timeline.”
“Exactly,” she replied and then added, “Can, uh, are you able to call your alien friends to find out if we’re onto something, here?”
Before I could reply to Mrs. R’s request, a three-foot tall Energist who was wearing a white suit and fedora, and carrying a walking cane like I had seen on a Star-Trek: The Next Generation episode, began to materialize on the breakfast table. When I looked at Lynette’s mom, she had an ear-to-ear grin on her face, and was rubbing her hands together.
“Hello, Dr. Mike,” the sharply dressed Energist said, “I am Writer-Twain-Beta.”
I wasn’t familiar with this Energist, who immediately turned towards Mrs. R, extended his small right hand to her and said, “It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Dillon Robertson. I am more than happy to entertain any of your questions regarding Mike’s rebooted teenage experience.”
“Twain-Beta,” I said with a touch of laughter, which captured our visitor’s attention. “I am guessing you are an author back on Energa and took your name from one of our greatest fiction writers. Is there much demand for written material in your highly intellectual society?”
“You are correct, Dr. Mike. Several Energists have taken to your earthly prose styles, and expanded on them much to the Energists’ delight. While we have vast knowledge and experiences, make-believe or imaginary aspects of our new lives are still relatively, pardon the pun ... novel to us. Thus, I have created several fictional pieces, which have been well received by my kind. I think you may well like my stories, too.”
“If we are able to have a copy of them, I, we...” I looked over at Mrs. R, who quickly affirmed her interest, “would love to read your work.”
Instantly, two sets of four book-bound stories appeared at the end of the breakfast table. “I would greatly appreciate any constructive criticism you two can provide. Even with vastly more intellectual abilities than you, I am still a relative novice at crafting fictional works, while you both have experience critiquing other’s written work.”
“Twain-Beta, I look forward to reading your work and will be happy to provide you with helpful feedback on your fictional stories,” Mrs. R graciously replied to the small alien on the table.
As I have witnessed countless times, Mrs. R then quickly refocused our conversation towards the reason for Twain-Beta’s appearance. “Mike has explained how he came about reliving his teenaged years to me, and all the wonderful things you Energists and he shared. However, I don’t know why or how I became personally involved in all this? Also, what is the deal with Mike and Viktoriya, and, uh, THEIR daughter, Angelika-Toxic?”
“You were adopted from Huntsville, Alabama as an infant, and brought to London, Ontario, Ms. Dillon, correct? Did you know you had an older brother, who was also adopted by a different Alabamian family?”
Mrs. R quickly affirmed Twain-Beta’s first question, but she completely surprised by his second revelation. “I ... never knew I had a brother. Is he alive? Where is he now? Is it possible for me to meet him? Do I have any other siblings?”
Alessandra
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