The Journey Man, by Chronos

Chapter 1
The Journey Man - part I

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Chapter Description: By Chronos

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NOTE TO MYSELF: I’m alive . . . at least, I think I am . . .

I seem to become lost . . . in time, I think.

My name is Peter Heidegger. This I must remember. It is extremely important to remember who I am. Where I came from.

Where did this start?

Think back . . .

Remember . . .

The Accelerator! That’s it! That damned Accelerator.

I wasn’t even supposed to be there. What do I know about things like quantum nuclear particle accelerators? Hell, I’m just the PR guy. I do tours for visiting muckity-mucks. I’m no scientist.

Just my stupid, stupid luck of giving a tour and demonstration of the accelerator chamber to a delegation of no-brainer Congressmen and their aides when the only major earthquake to occur in Texas during recorded history happens. One minute I talking in detail about a subject I really know nothing about, then everything starts shaking and stuff starts falling over. Then something hit me hard and I remember falling over.

I guess that’s when the "real" accident occurred. The emergency lights kicked in, and then the warning klaxons started to scream and the radiation contamination alarms went off. Ceiling debris had fallen on me, pinning me to the pad at the base of the accelerator. Blood from a gash on my forehead was partially blinding me, and nearly everyone was already covered in radiation burns. Myself included, although I didn’t bother to look.

The casing on the plutonium chamber was cracked and starting to buckle. When it went, I’d go with it; I was right in its path. There was nothing between me and the full blast of deadly radiation. Overhead, the Accelerator was running out of control. It reached maximum output at the same moment the chamber collapsed.

I remember yelling my wife’s name.

After that it was . . .

Dark.

NOTE TO MYSELF: I’m alive . . . at least, I think I am . . .

  I remember a sensation -- like I was falling -- tumbling end over end in a dark and fathomless void. I couldn’t tell up from down. I had no reference point at all. I seem to remember touching myself to see if I was all there, and I discovered that I appeared to be naked.

Suddenly out of the darkness I began to see a flicker, like a small particle of light. Eventually, it seemed to grow larger. I seemed to be falling toward it. With the appearance of light, I was able to judge how fast I seemed to be falling. It didn’t look good. If what I was falling toward was hard, the last sound I could expect to hear was myself going splat.

Larger and larger the light loomed in my vision. I’m not afraid to say that I screamed just before impact.

NOTE TO MYSELF: I’m alive . . . at least, I think I am . . .

I seem to be lying on a soft flat surface. I can hear sounds around me . . . cars going by, kids yelling, kids playing, a lawnmower -- life!

Thank God!

I can feel a breeze blowing across me, like through a open window. I can smell outdoors. It smells of people, of homes and families, of normal life.

The air blows across my skin, causing small goose bumps to form all over my body. From the feel of the air, I appear to be naked, but I’m afraid to open my eyes and check.

Wait a minute. Maybe I’m in a hospital. Maybe they came and got me out of the chamber.

I slowly move my hands. No restraints. That’s good.

Now, I’ll try my feet. Still okay . . . they’re working, too.

Now, open your eyes, Peter . . .

Wait! Got a problem here! Can’t see . . . CAN’T SEE!!!

No! Not blind! It’s only a bandage over your eyes. No wait! Not a bandage -- a damp cloth.

I raise my hand and remove the cloth -- a wash rag.

I look about. It’s a bedroom. I’m lying on a king-size bed. The room is unfamiliar, yet I have this overwhelming sense of deja vu.

With a low groan I force myself to rise and walk to the open window and look out. Even more feelings of deja vu encompass me. I look at myself in the mirror on the dresser. I’m completely nude, but other than that, seemingly ’no worse for wear’.

I hear a kid’s voice outside the window that seems so familiar. I look out again.

The boy -- it’s Timmy -- Timmy Jenkins . . . the kid from up the street. I mean the kid from up the street from my parent’s house.

But how can that be? Timmy’s just a kid. But wait a minute, wasn’t he killed in Desert Storm back in ’91?

I’m so confused.

I hear a voice -- a woman’s voice -- say "Ahem" behind me.

I turn to see a blondish California-type woman about 5’6’’ in her mid-30s dressed in a low cut and rather revealing sundress. She has her arms folded across her ample chest and a small, sardonic half-smile is painted across her lips.

"Feeling better?" she asks.

"How? Who? I ... Where? What’s . . . what’s happened to me? Where am I? Who are you?"

"Well, Shug, that’s usually a question the lady gets to ask when she finds a naked man in her bedroom."

I’m suddenly aware on my situation and immediately cup my genitals with my hands.

"It’s like this, Shug -- I was downstairs doing the breakfast dishes when I heard a bang and a thump up stairs. I came up and checked my daughter’s rooms and my bedroom. Then I heard that bang and thump again -- only it was coming from the sewing room.

"I went in there and didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary, but then I happened to look up at the ceiling and I saw this thing like a mass of clouds swirling. It went faster and faster. And then I noticed this speck falling from the center. It got bigger and bigger and finally it came right out of those clouds and hit the floor.

"That was you," she said, she pointed up to the little mass of swirling clouds that still circled above me. "They seem to follow you around. I saw "Close Encounters" on TBS a few times, so I figured this was something like that is going on." After a moment she added, "You got a name, Shug?"

I rubbed my hand on my face and thought a moment.

"Peter," I said. "Peter Heidegger."

"I thought so. You look just like the Heideggers up the street."

"Heideggers up the street!" I thought to myself

"Yeah, there’s a nice family named Heidegger lives three doors down. Got a cute little boy about 16 with the same name as you. Are you his uncle or something?"

She continued to talk, while never taking her eyes off my nude form. "My name is Jill Frosche. So what are you, some kind of astronaut or government agency boy?"

My mind was reeling. Jill Frosche! That was a name from my past.

"There was a lady who lived up the street from me when I was young named Jill Frosche. But she moved away in 1984 . . ."

"1984 . . . What are you talking about, Shug, I didn’t move here until 1990."

"1990? What year is it?" I asked.

"1997 -- what did you think it was?"

"1997!" Impossible I thought. Jill Frosche had moved away back in the late 80s and I hadn’t seen her or her family since. Yet I looked out the window and I couldn’t deny that this was my old neighborhood.

I tried to explain to Jill about the accident at the Accelerator project -- all of which she seemed to accept readily enough.

"So in your 1997, you’re a 36-year-old man who’s married with a couple of children of your own, but here the same you is a young teenager who lives up the street. Works for me, Shug . . . or should I call you Peter?" she said nonplused.

"Uh, uh," I stammered as she walked over toward me with a definite sash-shay to her wide and generous hips.

"I can’t get over that you’re an older, more legal version of that cute like Heidegger boy, huh? Guess it wouldn’t hurt to tell you that I’ve had my eye on him -- you -- for quite a spell. I figured I’d wait a few more years and see if he was interested in ’learning a few things’ and you plop out of the sky naked right into my bedroom."

She reached up and undid the three button that fastened the front of her sundress. Even from across the room I could see that she wasn’t wearing a bra. I was stammering and backing up, not realizing I was on a collision course with the bed in back of me. I fell backward across the bed, and in a shot she was straddling me.

I don’t know what came over me, but the minute she jumped on me, I reacted like a sex-starved sailor. I reached up and pushed aside the two spaghetti straps that held up the front of her dress. Two plump and firm D-cup sized tits erupted from her dress and fell into my waiting hands.

A low moan issued from her as I gently massaged and kneaded her tits. She leaned forward to brush their soft mass into my face. As I licked and kissed her breasts, she rubbed her panty-covered bottom across my stiffened prick.

"I used to fantasize about you when I was a kid," I whispered.

"Really?" she moaned back as she reached up and pulled her sundress from over her head.

Now clad only in her panties, she kissed and lightly nipped my neck and chest, and then slowly began working her way down toward my groin with her kisses. With an animalistic grunt, she lunged at my rigid cock and engulfed it to the root in her warm mouth. With a satisfying slurping sound, she noisily sucked on me. I found myself uncharacteristically babbling away.

"When I was 16. I mean, in the place when I was 16 -- back in 1976 or 77 -- I saw you a lot. Sunbathing in the backyard, at the neighborhood pool. You know what I mean . . . you’d wave to me whenever you saw me. Sometimes you’d wink at me if nobody was looking."

"Ummm," she said, releasing my dick from her mouth. "Sixteen is such a good year to have a boy for a lover. They’re so eager to please. So fresh and innocent. How old you did you say you are, Pete?"

"Thirty-six," I answered.

"Same age as me," Jill noted. Seems a shame I couldn’t get you a little younger."

Above my head, I watch my personal storm clouds swirl a little faster.

"Yes, you ought to be younger. Not a 30-year-old . . . younger," she said as she started sucking me off again. I moaned in pleasure twisting my hips back and forth in the bed as the vortex above me swirled faster and faster. I felt like I was lying on a sheet of slippery glass rather than a bed as I seemed to move up and down and back and forth at the same time.

I kept reaching up for the seam of Jill’s panties but she kept dancing her ass away from me. At one point I reached and grabbed them and succeeded in pulling them down part of the way, exposing her magnificent ass for my admiration.

It was at this moment that I blew my load into her mouth. I felt like I was in the middle of an epileptic seizure as my body spasmed all over the bed. With a smile and a swallow, Jill released my cock and looked up a me. At surprised smile creased her face. She looked above to the swirling clouds above me and said cryptically, "Wow . . . wishes DO come true."

I was already beginning to recover from my first orgasm and was determined to shoot my next load between her wonderful thighs. She got off the bed and crossed to the bedroom door and locked it. I rose as well and took her in my arms to kiss her. It was then I noticed that I was having to reach up slightly to reach her lips. I should be taller than Jill -- at least I was when I got here. Then I noticed the hair that dominated my chest most of my adult life was gone. My body looked and felt different, too -- smaller, more awkward. I turned toward the mirror and saw -- not a 36-year-old man -- but a youth -- a boy of 16 standing next to a mature middle-aged housewife.

The boy was me!

"What’s happened to me," I blurted out, noting the higher pitch of my voice.

"Don’t ask me, I’m not the one that plays with nuclear bombs. All I know is I wished you were younger and younger you got. Don’t sweat it, Shug. I’m going to give you the best fuck you ever had in your life," she promised. "Now slide that cute little tight ass of yours over here, Missy Jill wants you to do a little something for her this time."

With that she placed my hands on either of her hips and motioned me to slide her panties down her legs. As I pulled them down I was forced to stoop lower. Finally I knelt in front of her and she placed a hand on either of my shoulders and lifted one foot and then the other as I slide her panties off her legs. For my part, I was treated to the sight of her magnificent snatch. My face was at her crotch -- her pussy almost radiated with the overwhelming scent of her female musk. I felt like I was being hit between the eyes with a hammer. Without a thought, I lunged my face into her pussy and began licking and thrusting my tongue to lap up her juices.

"Oh yes, sweet thing," she moaned, pushing my face deeper and deeper into her wet slit. She placed both her hands on my head and pulled my face back and forth across her snatch. I might have gotten a younger body, but I still had years of sexual experience and technique to fall back on. With a firm but gentle shove, I forced Jill to sit back on the edge of the bed. She opened her legs as wide as she could get them and laid with her back upon the bed. I parted the lips of her labia and nipped at the sheath of her clitoris with my teeth.

She gasped a little as I continued to work my face back and forth across her pussy.

"You’re whiskers hurt at little," she commented. "I wish you weren’t quite so hairy."

That didn’t bother me because at that point I came up on my feet and rammed my cock home into the warm darkness of her love canal. Jill reached forward and with little to no effort dragged me up on the bed with her. I felt like a man on a bucking bronco. Try as I might, I couldn’t seem to get my lovemaking in sync with Jill’s rhythms. What’s more, although my dick as hard as a rock, I felt like a loose cannon rattling around inside her pussy.

I stopped in mid thrust and looked at my hands. They were smaller and more delicate than they were a few moments ago. A quick glance down confirmed that whatever youthening process had started on me was continuing. I stopped and stood, looking down at myself. Only a light dusting of peach fuzz covered my dick, which looked less than four inches long fully erect. Jill propped herself on her elbows and looked at me. Then a hearty laugh escaped her.

"Oops! I think I wished too hard -- if you get any younger your equipment won’t be any good to either one of us."

I turned to the mirror and gasped at my reflection. No 36 year old, or even 16 year old’s face greeted me. The thin and awkward face and body reflected in the mirror hadn’t existed since I was 13! I was a damn kid again!

"What have you done! Make me older," I yelled at Jill, tears forming unbidden in my eyes.

"There, there, Shug," Jill, putting her arms around me and crushing me to her large bosom, tried to comfort me.

"Old Jill got carried away," she said, patting the back of my head like a child. "I’m sorry."

"It’s . . . it’s okay, I guess, as long as you can make me a man again," I said, regaining my composure.

We laid side by side on the bed, me -- just a kid more than six inches shorter than the woman I was making love to -- and a woman now old enough to be my mother. Jill curled my hair with her fingers as I, some emotional balance reached, rolled to my side and slowly, cautiously began to nuzzle at her breasts.

"I used to have fantasies about you," I admitted in the higher pitched tones of a boy.

"Really? What kind?"

"Well I just never thought a woman like you could be interested in a kid, so I used to come up with these amazing dreams and fantasies about getting you younger . . . you know, like back to my age."

"How would you do it?" she asked with a smile as she now started to run her hand down my boyish flank.

"Lots of different ways: youth rays and machines, meteors, potions of magic. In one I found a ray gun that had a plus and minus on it. You were baby sitting me and I aimed it at you and fired. One minute later you grasp your face and say, "I feel funny . . . something’s happening to me . . . and then, right before my eyes you’d start shrinking. Your hair would get longer and your clothes would get a lot bigger on you. Pretty soon you’d be just a 20-year-old. I kept zapping you until you were a high school kid like me. Your clothes just hung on you -- all droopy-like. You were yelling and kicking at me so I zapped you again and made you even younger than me.

"Sounds cool -- and kinky," she said. "Then what happens?"

"Well . . ." I stammered. "I sort of took you across my knee and spanked you to show you who was boss. Your sort of liked it and then I pumped you back up to my age."

"Then we fucked like bunnies, right?" Jill said with a laugh.

I blushed to the roots of my diminished pubic hair.

"I don’t know," she continued. "Maybe you wouldn’t like me when I was younger. I was a little chubby and the boys didn’t pay much attention to me."

"Nope," I countered. "I wouldn’t care."

Although much smaller now than Jill, I was thoroughly aroused, I rolled Jill to her back and parted her legs with my body. Grasping her firm ass in my boyish hands I lifted her up slightly and with a determined thrust I entered her. She gasped with pleasure as I drove my dick back and forth within her.

"This time you’re getting younger," I yelled at her through the emotion of my lovemaking.

Jill nodded her head and said yes, yes to each thrust of my cock. Unknown to me, the little cloud vortex above me started moving faster. Jill looked up and saw the clouds, her chest heaving with lust and shouted along with me . . . "Younger! Younger! Younger!"

And as she writhed beneath me, my dick buried to the hilt in her sweet cunt, I watched year after year seem to peel away from her. In a moment, her hips and ass regained the firmness of a woman in her 20s. The small crows feet around her mouth and eyes vanished. Her hair was growing lighter and fuller. It had already grown three inches by the time I had dicked her back to her mid 20s. Her slightly droopy tits firmed and rose high and tight on her chest.

We were both in a sexual frenzy by now. Year after year peeled away from her face and body. The evidence of the birth of her two children disappeared as her hips narrowed slightly to their pre-pregnancy position and her stretchmark scars faded and disappeared. As she dropped back into her teens, her blond hair now pillowed around her like a waterfall, stretching nearly to her mid-back. Her voice regained its youthful timbre as her body dropped in age from 20 to 19 to 18 and then to 17.

The pressure in my balls was so great that I thought I was having a seizure. With a groan I shot loose, while at the same moment she screamed in orgasmic ecstasy. Our twin climaxes carried her over the threshold and she continued to diminish in my arms. Her breasts -- still large -- now had the perkiness stiff firmness of a young girl. Her nipples, no longer a reddish brown, had regained their virginal pink color. Her skin face and hair all cried out teenybopper as she reached up and stroked my young face with her hand.

"Well, let’s have a look at ourselves," she said, sliding out from under me. I was right, her long blond hair now caressed the top of her plump and pert ass. She wasn’t fat, not by a long shot, in fact she was perfect. Jill squealed with delight as she examined herself in the mirror. She held up her breasts and examined them critically. Then she did a half turn and looked at her rump and thighs.

"I look better than I remember," she commented. "I guess we all have a pretty poor picture of ourselves. Thanks Peter for giving me the chance to see myself as I was and not as I remember."

With that she kissed me.

"Hey wait a minute," I said. "How come you get to be 16 and I’m stuck as a 13-year-old. I demand you pump me back up to your age."

Jill smiled and said, "And suppose I don’t. What are you going to do . . . spank me?"

She slowly and with an exaggerated motion to her hips came over to me and laid across my knees with her tight little ass looking up at me. "Haven’t I been a bad little girl?" she cooed -- then she laughed and stood up. Taking my hand, she climbed up on the bed on her hands and knees and looked back at me.

I expected her to roll on her back. Instead, she wiggled her ass provocatively at me and said, "Jilly wants it this way now. When I was young and tight -- before my kids -- I thought only bad girls did it this way. I only learned different later in life. I want to feel a man when I can still appreciate it."

I knelt between her splayed legs and she rose up on her knees. My hands encircled both of her breasts. She reached in-between her legs and grasped my member. She positioned it over her slit and lowered herself on me. Then she fell forward on her hands again as I began to work my cock.

"Forward this time, Lover," she moaned as I drove my shaft home. "You and me the same age . . . teen lovers . . . bigger, get bigger for Jill . . . yes! That’s it. Ram me! Ram me!"

This time the process felt reversed. Instead of the feeling of slipping, I felt myself growing larger. My dick felt tighter and more constricted within Jill’s young cunt. I realized that I was aging again. But not to my former age -- to 16 again -- the same age as the now teenaged Jill. Again we climaxed together in a frenzy and fell into each others arms.

"What happens now?" she asked.

"I don’t know," I answered truthfully. "I still don’t know what’s happened already."

I pointed to the mass of clouds above my head.

"It’s up to them," I said.

Maybe it was coincidence, or maybe I had tempted fate, but at that moment, my personal little hurricane acted up. It had been moving in a clockwise rotation ever since I first noticed it. Now it slowed to a halt and reversed itself. The coloration grew darker and little sparks of static electricity jumped from it. I slid away from Jill in case things got a little dicey.

Suddenly there was a little bang and thump.

"That’s the noise I heard just before you arrived," she said.

I turned to toward Jill. She said something that I couldn’t hear. At that moment, a burst of electricity leapt from the cloud and . . .

After that it was . . .

Dark.

 

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