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Message-ID: <47566asstr$1082625002@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Jack C Lipton <jcl@bogus.mailbox.server.org>
Subject: {ASSM} Late Arrival [3/4] (rom angst FF MF(implied))
Lines: 557
Date: Thu, 22 Apr 2004 05:10:02 -0400
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Author: Jack C Lipton <cupasoup@softhome.net>
Title: Late Arrival
Part: 3/4
Universe: Arrivals
Summary: Unexpected revelations
Keywords: rom angst FF MF(implied)
Revision: $Revision: 1.7 $
Archive: http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/CupaSoup/www/
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RCS: $Id: latentOrNot.x,v 1.7 2004/04/10 14:25:11 jcl Exp $



			Late Arrival
			    3/4

		      by Jack C Lipton

I had a startling 36 hours.  I met a man, liked him, got hot
over him, actually, and learned that I couldn't get a piece
of him.

I'd been riding the Ferry down to visit my mother on a
Tuesday after my shift in mid-town;  between the time I
left the precinct house and got to the ferry I'd fought the
rest of the rush-hour traffic, making some of the small
stops I like to before visiting my mom.

Tuesdays, for some strange reason, are the days we've chosen
to visit her.  I was hoping today would be another pleasant
time.

So I got onto the ferry, sat down on the Manhattan end of
the bridge deck, and watched this strange fellow with an
Apple laptop sit, read and type.  I can't quite explain why
he caught my eye at that point, but he did.  I watched him,
my curiosity piqued, as he closed up his laptop and walked
outside and drank in the view, his face twitching into all
kinds of "odd" expressions.  When he walked back in I almost
melted;  he had sad eyes and his posture made him look older
than he must be.

When he opened up his laptop again I saw him entering a
password and his eyes locked onto the screen, headset over
his ears, oblivious to the world around him.  Including me.

Realize that I'm a cop.  A competent cop.  Good cops are
curious and like to know things.  Good cops are not
necessarily the kind of people who are completely polite or
genteel, however.

Great cops, though, can think like those they pursue.  Some
of the homicide guys *really* scare me.

And, let me tell you, I don't scare easy, all right?

I was not a "great" cop that way, thank God.

So I'm watching this guy.  I know that LCD screens tend to
cut down on off-angle viewing, but this one showed me a lot.
Like the snoop that I was, I watched him work.

He was editing text.  A story.  It had words like...

Oh.  Wow.

It did, didn't it.

Hmmm, this text he was reading and updating looked like one
of asstr-mirror.org's authors I've read.  For my own situation as a
peeping Thomasina it was fortunate that he was so intent on
the screen in front of him since he still didn't notice me
gazing over his shoulder.

It was when he pulled up another window and opened another
file that I saw the intro block.

Jeeeezzuuuussssssss!!!

I've read this guy's stuff.  I was sitting next to Joel,
Joel Jackson, of all people.  My baby sister had sent us all
his web-site address and, like my mom and twin sister, I'd
started reading.

All right, so he wasn't necessarily my favorite author right
now, but his links did guide me to other authors.  He'd
served as an introduction to a whole universe.  In all of my
reading I'd learned a lot about myself...  some of which was
unexpected.

I've got my own preferences but even I still found most of
his stories readable.

This whole question about sex and sexuality, just then,
reminded me of my current situation.

Like I've said, I'm a cop.  I'm a cop because it felt like
something that made sense for me to do at the time, but was
partially driven by my body type.  Like my mom and my baby
sister, my twin and I were tall and thin, hiding a fair
build of muscles.  With some of my muscle behind me, it was
easier to cope with many things head on.  I wondered for a
second there about my twin's own choice of a career.

So, given the confidence that my physique and training
provided, I wasn't afraid to introduce myself.

Looking over this "Joel Jackson" I was willing to bet that
it wasn't his real name.

The thing that had helped me remain cloaked was his use of
headphones.  When I finally tapped him on his shoulder he
slid them back off his ears where they fell around his neck.
His voice was even, pleasant and not unkind (proving he
wasn't a New Yorker any more) as I heard him gently ask me
what I wanted.

Finally seeing him full in the face confused me; there was
something oddly familiar about his face that stayed outside
my ability to categorize it.  I found it attractive, too.

I quickly got back on track by apologizing for invading his
privacy and then asked if he was Joel Jackson, the author.

He didn't deny it, but told me it was a nym he used.  What I
was not prepared for was an odd reaction in my own body.  My
pussy was waking up;  the physical attraction I'd felt had
finally reached "bottom".

Look, I'm thirty-two years old, divorced, no children and
married to my job now.  It had been a long time since I
haven't used either my fingers or some toys.  I sometimes
envy my sister Kim who is still married but doesn't tell me
much about her sex life.

Whatever I said next had to have been stupid with my brain
being distracted by my body whispering to me.  Somehow he
admitted to only being 50, just a year older than my mom.

What was it about this man?  My body was getting way too
ready to jump him yet I knew almost nothing of the real man.
I guessed, at that point, that my body was responding to the
personae within his stories only because that's all I really
knew about him.

So, like a lovesick fool, I wanted a picture of him.  I used
the excuse that I wanted to show it to my mother.  I also
wanted a note from him, too.

What the fuck was wrong with me?

Calling my mother to maintain the excuse I took a picture
of him with the phone and sent it to my mom.  I heard her
gasp in surprise before I told her who it was.  It was like
she'd just been punched in the stomach.  I should have been
worried about this or developed some kind of worry for her,
but she recovered quickly.  I acted as intermediary in her
questioning of him.

When I relayed the final question of "Is your real name
Jack?" he seemed stunned.  I told my mom it looked that way
and she ordered me to hand my cell-phone to this stranger.

I'm a snoop.  I admit it.  It's done well for me in my job.
It's also been a burden, too, since I read some of my mom's
diaries from when she was a teen, almost 18 years ago now.
I'd been a snoopy teen myself and it hadn't been quite so
educational for me.  In her diaries she often mentioned
"Jack did this" and "Jack said that" and even "Jack kissed
me".  At the time I'd found "I got Jack to put his hands on
my breasts and he liked them" very disturbing.  So a bunch
of little clues had been dropping in my lap, now, and from
their conversation and the look on his face (and his posture
too) my mom knew him.  The only thing missing from my mom's
diaries was sex with Jack.  It seemed he was her first
boyfriend and they'd never gone all the way.

 From an edge of fear he calmed down and his face turned very
happy talking with my mom.  Again, watching his face, the
sense that of familiarity kept pulling at me.  I think now
that it was this "mystery" getting me all hot and bothered.

When he hung up and wrote down all of his addresses and
phone numbers, I had a chance to write down my mom's.  My
wet slit told me to write down my own.  I paid attention to
the hotel he was staying at;  I was starting to think of
dropping in on him after work one night.

The rest of the ride was pleasant, chatting with him about
his work (and my work) and the Island along with what we
liked to do.  He was a nice enough guy and his personality
was unaggressive, so it was with a mixed set of feeling that
we had to part at the ferry terminal.  I decided to act on
one of my impulses: I grabbed him and gave him a kiss that
he'd have a problem ignoring.

I'm not sure how dazed I left him as I hoofed it to bus ramp
"D" for the '78.  I was surprised that he was planning to
take the "rancid transit".

I must admit that it had been a while since I'd been willing
to have any kind of sex, much less with a man.  But the fact
that he'd bared so much of his heart in his stories did
explain why I found him sexually alluring.  Even if his
stories were pretty vanilla when it came to sex.

When I got to my mom's house (why she preferred to live down
here in Great Kills instead of up on the Hill beat the shit
out of me) I found my twin, as expected, sitting on the
couch with a glass of wine in front of her on the coffee
table.  There was a beer sitting in front of where my mother
directed me to sit.

She had a high-school yearbook out.  It wasn't from her
school, I recognized it from my snooping but never
understood why she had it.

Also by her was a photo album that I didn't recognize.  And
a small diary I'd never seen before.

She spoke "All right, Kim, you're on your second glass of
wine, please drink it down.  Kelly, chug that beer down and
I'll refill it."

Never one to turn down a beer, I did so.  I have never been
as good at decorum as my sister.  My belch as I reached out
to hand the cold mug back to my mom got a giggle from her.

I was sipping the refilled mug as I leaned back on the couch
and relaxed.

"All right, do I have your attention?" mom asked.

I nodded, as did Kim, but I spoke up "So?  I've met him, I
talked with him on the ferry ride.  He's a nice guy.  I'd
jump in the sack with him right now if he was here.  OK,
mom, so he's your age, but he only has step-children.  His
wife didn't take care of herself, so she was not in the best
of condition to survive the accident when the drunk hit her
car.  What's he to Kim and I?  He'd be a fun romp but. like
I said he's more your age.  It's not like you need our
permission to date him, you know."

I paused a beat.  "And if you did, I _might_ want you to let
me borrow him on occasion."

My sister stared at me, especially my comment about bedding
him.  As she asked "Just after meeting him once?  Wow, sis,
your taste must be slipping."

"No, it's not that.  There's something... almost familiar
about him;  if I was half the romantic you tell me you think
I am, I'd say it was like a soul-mate thing.  There was just
something about him..."

Mom jumped in to keep us from fighting over the issue by the
simple expedient of saying "Kelly, that's a pretty kinky
idea you've got there, but there's more to the story."

We both turned to her, stunned.  She help up the odd high
school yearbook to a page of graduating class photos and
pointed to a boy in the ugliest black glasses I've ever seen
in my life.  "Here's Jack's high school picture."

I looked.  Yes, I could see him in that picture, but that
sense of familiarity remained but the answer lay beyond my
ability to reach it.  Glancing over to Kim I could see she
was nodding politely and going "So?"

This album I'd never run across before popped open to a
strip of photos (kind of like the booth variety you see more
of these days) which showed them both in several poses, the
last one of them kissing.

I recognized my mom's face, of course, but the boy's was
identifiable as Jack's.  I could tell that I was paying
closer attention to this puzzle than my "smarter" sister.

This time it was my turn to make a snide remark.  "So?  Date
him.  I think he still loves you, even though this was a
surprise.  Do you still love him?"

Mom nodded.  I could tell that Kim just shrugged.

Next came a larger photo of just his head and shoulders with
no glasses covering his face.  Again I felt that haunting
sense of recognition, just outside my reach.

Kim wasn't paying much attention by this point, sitting back
and sipping the wine.  I took another pull at my beer.

I could see mom getting agitated.  Kim jumped in, "So?  It's
not like he's anything to us, is he?  I mean, c'mon, sure,
Kelly would jump him in less than a New York minute, but,
mom, it's not like he's our father, you know!"

SHIT!  SHIT!  SHIT!

It had been staring me in the face all this time.  That odd
sense of familiarity, the haunting sense of recognition...

SHIT!  SHIT!  SHIT!

I'd been considering seducing my own father!

My initial recoil in the couch startled my sister who looked
at me like I was an idiot.  I looked at her face squarely
and saw Jack's.  No wonder I'd gotten turned on;  my twin
and I have been together forever and had explored sex with
each other, too.  I had a lot of pleasant memories attached
to that face.

Kim continued to look at me like I'd lost my mind.  I'd sat
as close to Jack as I sat now to Kim and there was no way I
couldn't see the connection.

"Kim, I sat with him, I talked with him.  You might not see
it in the pictures, sis, but I did.  You joked about it but
I'll bet that Jack *is* our father.  Mom?  I thought you
were a Southern Baptist ... and Baptists don't fuck because
it might lead to dancing.  Well?"

We had never gotten a clear picture of our conception;   it
had always been a project for another day.

Today was the day for answers.

Mom looked sheepish.  "We never did go all the way, girls.
We _did_ play with each other, especially in the last month
before your grandfather got transferred to Texas.  I think
it happened when he was having problems getting me off with
his hands after I'd gotten him off, so I showed him what to
do with my own hand.  Basically, I put his sperm where it
could wriggle in and make the two of you.  He'd never come
in me at all, so the Gynecologist was surprised when the
pregnancy was discovered, you know.  It's not often that you
find a pregnant girl still a virgin."

I sat there, speechless.  Kim asked "Why didn't you go to
him?  Or him to you?"

I was stunned.  I'd been pretty horny just thinking about
him as "just this guy" but discovering he was really my
father?  Wow.  The idea of incest was a turn on for me.
I'll need to work this one out with Kim when she's in
shrink-mode.

"I wrote him letters as soon as we'd moved and we weren't in
the new post for more than a month before I realized I'd
missed my period during the move.  I never got a reply from
him.  I don't know what I'd done that was so terrible that
he wouldn't write back...  and it was heartbreaking to have
him abandon me when I was pregnant with _his_ child."

My instincts were kicking in again.  Something was wrong
with this scenario, so my "detective mode" went active.

"Mom, how did grandma and grandpa take to Jack when you were
dating?"

I watched mom as I asked and saw the flinch.  I had memories
of my grandfather's stern voice and mood.  Mom answered with
"My mom didn't care much one way or another, on her own, but
my dad _hated_ him.  I never did learn why."

Kim the shrink came out:  "Is there any chance they were
intercepting your mail?"

I saw mom stop, her eyes suddenly widening.  It was funny to
watch.  When she started nodding I could see her relax.

"So maybe there's no problem.  Maybe you two can straighten
all of this out tomorrow."

Mom nodded as we all came down off of alert.  I turned to my
sister and asked her "As a shrink, why did I get hotter now
when I realized he's my dad?  It's incest, and, if anything,
I got hornier."

Kim shrugged.  "So?  C'mon, sis, we've fooled around.  Sure,
it's been a while since you've been in the mood, but me
being your sister never stopped you.  So maybe that's why
you're comfortable with him;  he's related so he's more able
to be trusted.  Unlike your Ex.  Or my husband, for that
matter."

"Or...  he looks like you do.  And I trust you."  I turned
to my mom, adding "This feels weird."

My mom nodded.  "Anyway, want to see these pictures of him
with me?"

Kim and I looked into each other's eyes and smiled.  "Hell,
Yes!" was our reply, in unison.

That night, before I crawled into bed with my sister, was a
whole set of revelations.  We even got the date of our
conception, too.  Along with all of this we saw our birth
certificates again, all in a new light.  Or, rather, it did
look like we had two apiece.  These showed his name as the
father.  I recalled the previous copy we'd seen as "father
unknown", so this was a revelation.

It's funny *now* to think about how she warned us that even
a hand-job could get us pregnant, if the sperm ended up in
the "right place".  It was almost an irony to discover that
she'd learned that lesson the hard way.

I was finally hot enough to go along with Kim and it was
late before we'd made love together enough times to fade
into sleep.

The next morning we were off before the crack of dawn to
catch express buses back in to the city.

Getting a message just after lunch-time from my mom, telling
me it'd be a good idea to head back down to the Island that
evening, was not much of a surprise.  It looked like Jack
was coming to dinner.  I was also told not to reveal our
true relationship to him.

Choosing to do the ferry again on the off chance that I'd be
able to sit with Jack again was a no-brainer.  I even called
my sister when I could to let her know which boat.

Even though accidental meetings are almost de rigeur for a
large city and "scheduled" contacts often don't come off
unless rigidly managed, we did see him on the boat.  Seeing
his reaction to both of us approaching him was almost
comical but I straightened him out by letting him know which
of us was which.

Sitting and talking with him it quickly became obvious that
he still didn't know.  I wondered why we weren't allowed to
let him know who we were, but had to acknowledge that it was
mom's right to be the one.

All right, all right, I admit it:  I was looking forward to
the surprise he'd get.  It was like a practical joke, but I
really hoped it wouldn't hurt anyone.

I could see Kim looking him over.  I still felt the sexual
pull but knowing where it was coming from (and that my
biological alarm clock was ticking loudly) made it easier to
hold myself in check.

It was almost fun, in a way.  My mom wanted to know where he
stood with her but it was Kim that brought it all out into
the open, though she did it while mom went to the bathroom.

The look of panic on his face was mixed with... awe?... when
he suddenly froze and quietly asked us if he was our father.

He looked almost destroyed once we'd confirmed that, yes,
he was our father.  I could almost watch his thoughts as he
shrank into himself;  it was reassuring to see the man whose
genes I carried rebound and gain strength again.

I was struck speechless when he rose to confront my mother
as she returned...  but it was more a confession than a
confrontation.  In seconds my mother was curled up on his
lap, her initial tears something I'd not seen in years.  It
took a few minutes but I could hear her switch from sobbing
in agony to crying in relief.

This man, who had been nothing more than the sperm donor to
start my sister and I, loved my mother.  There was no doubt
in my mind that he wanted to stay with her, and her with
him.  It was heartache to me to see how well they fit
together.  Would I ever find a man like him?

So when my mom asked him to take her to bed, he asked her to
marry him, wanting an answer first.

Wow.  They were going to marry, even though they'd never had
real sex together in their lives.

Kim and I looked at each other, listening to the sounds
coming from mom's bedroom.  We smiled at each other.  Kim
did say "You know as well as I do that he still wants his
own children.  Even though intellectually he can recognize
us, he didn't hold us as babies, so his desire is not going
to be fully satisfied by us.  Mom can't have any more
either.  As his daughters we're out of the running to have
his children.  I'm thinking we can arrange something, sis.
Pam is in the *right* place.  And I know she's no longer on
the pill;  it didn't make her breasts grow enough.  She'd be
the perfect candidate to have his children."

I sighed, nodding, seeing the whole situation unfold in my
head.  "And considering that she edits for him and drools
over the idea of eventually meeting him...  she might be
pretty easy to convince."

"I'm not thinking of telling her, Kel.  I'd like her to find
out who he is by surprise.  I also what him to learn that
she's his editor that way too.  It's more fun that way."

"Kim, you know she's no idiot.  She's likely to go back on
the pill!"

"Are you on the pill, dear sister?"

She got me there;  I hadn't been on the pill for some time.
I shook my head no.

"And you would have jumped him, even with the inherent risk
of pregnancy, right?"

I sighed.  "Yes, I would", nodding.

"If she responds to him even half as strongly as you have--
and, remember, she felt very safe and loved by us when she
needed it, so she's probably going to look at his face and
have her pussy catch fire, just like us."

Wow, my sister admitted, finally, that he'd had an effect on
her.  I smiled at her.  "So what if she remembers in time?"

Kim could play a Bond villainess with the expression on her
face.  "Remember when I was practicing hypnosis?"

I nodded.

"I practiced a lot on Pam and I've kept a lot of the trigger
words alive over the years.  If she's anything like you with
your reaction to his face, she'll feel it too, and I should
be able to get her to not care about protection with him.
It may take a couple of phone calls to find out if her
subconscious is likely to go along with this, but, really,
seeing how you reacted, she should get hot pants just seeing
him too."

"OK, but she's no idiot, you know."

Kim smiled again at me.  "Neither am I.  And I work with
people's heads for a living.  Pam, though, is a special
case;  I know her better than anyone else.  And, sister
mine, she'll see *us* in him."

"OK, so how do we talk mom into going along with this plan?"

Kim smirked.  "Of course she'll go along with it.  Heck I'm
sure she'll be ecstatic about it.  She loves him, she won't
want to hurt him.  She'll want him cushioned.  I'll bet you
a whole quarter that she'll suggest this herself come the
weekend."

Oh.

It was funny to scheme about getting our baby sister... all
right, half-sister... pregnant by Jack.

And my body was still telling me he'd make a good father.

Darn.

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