Soulmates
 

 by: Hankster

© 2019 by the author

The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...

hankster@tickiestories.us

Chapter 7
The Senator

About a year and a half after my last regression, Reggie was chomping at the bit again.

“How’d you like to try another regression?” he asked one day. 

He hadn’t even hinted that he would like to do another one, so his question came out of nowhere.

“I don’t know if I can,” I said.  “My last regression took us right up to our present incarnations.  We can’t go forward.  We’ll have to go back, and see if I can find another incarnation that the time machine by-passed.”

Reggie gave me a Mona Lisa like smile.  “Not necessarily so,” he said.  “I’d like to attempt a progression instead of a regression.”

“What do you mean?” I asked naively.

“I’ve been thinking,” Reggie said.  “If you can go backward in time, maybe time is more than just a relative fourth dimension.  Maybe it’s infinity.  If that’s true, why can’t you go forward as well?”

“That’s an interesting theory.  If I’m successful in visiting us in a future life, maybe what I see will be too horrible to bear.”

“Explain yourself,” he said.

“What if I see Armageddon; the earth destroyed; surviving humans living among rubble, scratching for food?  I don’t think I could take that.”

“You don’t have to take anything.  If the future disturbs you that much, just leave it.  You have the power to say goodbye at any time during the progression.”

“What if I get sucked up in the future, and can’t leave it?”

“If you don’t come back after an hour or so, I’ll bring you back.”

“Well, you have a mind-boggling theory,” I admitted.  “It won’t hurt to try, but let’s start out like last time.  Let’s make lots of love instead of a meditation.  After all, if I can’t return from the future, I want you to have something to remember me by.”

We rushed to the bedroom, and made love, with me doing all the work.  Well, it was hardly work.  I was enjoying myself immensely, especially the taste of his cock, and the taste of his uber clean ass, as I rimmed it.  Reggie went from purring like a kitten to roaring like a lion.

When we were thoroughly exhausted and lying side by side, I heard Reggie say, “Create your time machine, and raise your right arm when you are comfortably seated.”

This time when I conjured up my ride in time, the machine looked different.  It was sleeker, and it had no wheels for the railroad track.  I recognized nothing on the instrument panel, but I got comfortably seated and raised my right arm.

“At this very moment,” I vaguely heard Reggie intone, “you are in the present.  Now, I want you to propel yourself forward and start a journey into the future.”

I concentrated on his suggestion, and the vehicle began to lift like a hovercraft.  Suddenly it shot forward with such speed I completely lost my breath.  The time machine stopped abruptly without slowing down, and I got quite a jolt.  My eyes were directed to flashing lights on the instrument panel.  The lights were flashing 2113.  I assumed that was the year I was propelled to.

I closed my eyes and concentrated.  I saw two men in an office talking to one another.  They bore some resemblance to Reggie and me.  They were both about thirty years old.  I quickly did the math.  If it was indeed the year 2113, and the men were thirty, then they were born in the year 2083.  I had already determined that two years was the average between death and rebirth.  That meant that Reggie and I lived long lives in the world that I had just left him in.  Knowing that, made me feel really good.  I liked my life, which allowed me to love, and make love, with Reggie as often as we both could.

I looked around at my surroundings.  Armageddon had not occurred; at least not yet.  I was in Washington, D.C., and it hadn’t changed much in the last hundred or so years.  I seemed to view the city from above.  All the building and monuments were still there.

Suddenly, I found myself in the office where I had first spotted the two men.  As soon as I entered the office, I knew that I was in the presence of two junior senators.  The one that resembled me was from Wyoming, and the one that resembled Reggie was from N. Dakota.  They were both handsome and single, and they were considered to be the most eligible bachelors in Washington.

I knew that we were in the office of the one who resembled me, because he was seated behind the desk, and the other senator was on a chair facing him.  They seemed to be planning something.

Suddenly, I was sucked into the body of the one whose office we were in.

“Thanks for coming to my office this late in the day, Paul,” I said.

“No problem,” Paul answered. “Let’s have dinner together after the meeting.  We’ll go to Chef Geoffs.”

“Great idea.  You know how much I enjoy your company, and socializing with you.”

In that case, let’s not end the evening after dinner.  Let’s have a couple of shots at the bar,” Paul suggested.

“You’re on, buddy.”

I concentrated hard, hoping to find out what the meeting was about, and also my name.  Paul hadn’t mentioned it yet.  “Ask and ye shall receive.”  It all came rolling over me like a tsunami.  My name was Stuart Epps.  Reggie was Paul O’Conner.  Well and good, but what really threw me for a loop was that some future congress initiated a new committee, and I was the chairman of the committee on morality.

The committee’s job was to rid America of smut, prostitutes and homosexuals. Up to this point, my Committee had done a good job of eliminating half the Hollywood filmmakers, all of the prostitutes (that they were able to entrap), questionable web sites, and just about every other action the committee had considered being morally offensive.  The last bastion to attack was to be homosexuality.  This meeting was designed to plan out the systematic elimination of gays and lesbians

Paul and I came up with a six point plan”

          Step one:  Eliminate same sex marriage.

          Step Two:  Require all homosexuals to register with an authority to be established.

          Step Three:  Remove all children, under the age of eighteen, natural or adopted, from the homes of homosexual parents.

          Step Four:  Imprison all homosexuals on decommissioned navy vessels.

          Step Five:  Round up those who disobey, and exile them to the US colony on the moon.

          Step Six: Execute all troublemakers who try to resist the edicts which the committee will issue.

Since the idea of having dinner together was a last minute decision, we had not made reservations, and there would be an hour’s wait for a table.  The “short” wait was because we were US Senators, who got priority seating.  The common public was advised that they would have a two hour wait.  As you can imagine, the bar was exceptionally crowded, and that’s where we found each other while waiting for a table. 

We both ordered vodka tonics.  After more than two hours our table was still not ready, and we consumed more vodka than either of us was used to.

“Listen,” Paul said, “this is ridiculous.  I don’t live far from here.  I have a good supply of leftovers from a dinner party I had the other day.  I was forced to entertain some bigwigs from my political party back in N Dakota.  I’ll heat it up, and we can socialize where it’s quiet.”

“Good idea,” I said.  “What are you heating up?”

“Roast beef with scalloped potatoes, and of course, I’ll serve it with red wine.”

“My mouth is watering,” I said.  “Let’s go.”

We both had a good buzz on, and while the roast beef was being defrosted, and then heated, Paul served us wine. 

We chattered away like magpies, while drinking glass after glass of wine.  I had no recollection of anything after the fifth glass and the several vodka tonics I had consumed at Chef Geoffs.  When I woke up in the morning, I got the shock of my life.

Paul had a one bedroom apartment.  He and I were wrapped up together in his bed.  We were both naked.  Although Paul was still asleep, we held each other’s cocks, both of which were hard.

I panicked and jumped out of bed.  That’s when I saw dried and semi-dried semen all over the bed.  It was obvious to me that we used the bed for other than sleeping.  Then I tried to rationalize.  Maybe all we did was jack off together.  That didn’t seem so bad.  After all, we didn’t know that we were soulmates.

Glimpses of the previous night began to come back to me.  I saw Paul and me kissing each other passionately, performing fellatio on each other, and in the end fucking each other without lubrication.

I was horrified and I jumped out of bed to use the bathroom.  My ass felt sticky, and I touched it.  Semen came out of my dripping ass hole, and I realized that I had glimpsed nothing but the truth.  Paul had really fucked me.

My present self, Norman, was thrilled, but my future self, Stuart, was devastated.  If anyone should find out,” I thought, “my life and career will be over.”

I had a license to carry a weapon.  I ran to the living room, where I found my trousers in a heap on the floor, all mixed up with Paul’s clothing.

I retrieved a small revolver from my pocket, and aimed it at Paul’s head, and then I intended to kill myself.

Even though he couldn’t hear me, I (Norman) began to yell, “Don’t do this, Stuart.  There is no shame in loving this man.  You know you love him.  Accept your feelings.”

I don’t know if he could hear me or not, but Stuart dropped his weapon, and began to cry.

From the bed, I heard Paul say, “I know you’re scared.  I am too, but I confess I love you.  I think I’ve loved you since the day we met.  Don’t kill us.  I know we will find a way to get through this dilemma.”

I was rudely brought back to the present.  Reggie was shaking me.

“You were wailing and screaming,” he said.  “I had to bring you back.”

“Fuck me or suck me,” I begged.  “I need to know that I am really back with you.”

“I’ll never leave you,” Reggie said, as he kissed my forehead.

Once again, Reggie had awakened me because I was crying.  Why couldn’t I control myself?  Now I will never know what will happen to Paul and Stuart.  One thing I can believe.  It was I, Norman, who stopped Stuart from pulling the trigger, and that thought comforts me. 

Now I have begun to invent all kinds of scenarios to complete the story, all of them good.

The End
 

Posted: 02/22/19