Written by juangarianojuan

5 Sep 2012


"20, 19, 18..." The countdown had begun. Andrew's erection was already pushing up the slick green nylon of his jump suit and he absentmindedly rubbed it through the cloth. Petal had been with-holding herself from him for a month now and he was very much in need. He sighed, absorbed nothing, settled back into the control seat, took a deep breath and tried to relax. Gradually he felt the swelling subside, the hard knot in his stomach loosen. He opened his eyes.

"12, 11, 10..." droned the metallic voice from the panel in front of him and he thought of the terrible fight Petal had provoked that night last week when he had left for the Centre to begin his final training...

"You never told me about leaving a week early," screamed the harridan, legs apart, hands on hips, her lank blond hair in disorder, her mouth pulled down in a savage pout. Her shirt was open down the front and her big tits half visible, a deliberate manoeuvre to provoke him all the more.

"But dear..." began Andrew, feeling a familiar tingle in his groin.

"Don't you Dear me, you worm!" said his beloved. Her lip trembled, her eyes grew misty with tears and with devastating suddenness her voice took on a dangerous whine.

"You don't love me any more. That's what it is! You just want to stuff your dick in me! " She sniffed. "I should never have married you! I should have listened to Joyce!" Joyce was Petal's older sister, a bitter woman whom Andrew had once courted and who detested him and attacked him whenever and however she could. She was also a sadist and criminally violent. Compared to Joyce, Petal was sweetness itself.

"Aw, don't say that," moaned Andrew, placing a hand on her arm, but wanting to rip that shirt right off and have his way then and there.

"Don't you touch me!" shrieked Petal, slapping the hand away and moving with a skill born of long practice from tears back to anger, her breasts now fully exposed and jigging around.

"But you always complain about me being in the way!" gabbled Andrew, desperately.

Silence greeted this. Not the silence of defeat, but that of disdain for an argument so patently hypocritical as not to merit an answer.

"Well?" snapped Andrew, angry now and his own anger.

Petal sniffed loudly and looked pointedly out the window at their neighbour in his kitchen, as if he indeed were a man and far better than the miserable opposite her.

"Answer me, dammit!" screamed Andrew, his nerves raw.

Petal rose suddenly and stamped out of the room and he had one last glimpse of those wonderful tits in profile and moaned.

"Damn!" muttered Andrew, knowing that he had lost again. A few minutes later he saw the woman in the house next door, in the kitchen, for the window had no curtains. She was talking to the fellow who lived there, a middle aged builder, who now reached out and stroked one of the woman's exposed breasts. She said something and immediately pulled off her shirt and bent and stepped out of her jeans. Quite naked, she bent over the table, facing Andrew in his own kitchen, and the fellow stood behind her, dropped his trousers and slammed into her. Fascinated, Andrew watched, as the woman's screams of arousal sounded clearly across the gap, then he could stand no more and left.

"3, 2, 1, 0!" said the voice, with a faint note of triumph as it uttered the last number. There was a jolt, a snap, a discontinuity that penetrated Andrew's very bones and he blacked out.

When he awoke he was immediately aware of a change. Everything was tilted slightly to the left and the light that came through the ports was a rich greenish yellow, and moved, fluttered. Andrew shook his head and focussed his eyes. Instead of the grim concrete walls of the Ops Room he saw leaves, big veined leaves. And sunlight, slanting down. Vague shapes that could have been tree trunks lurked in the shadows and a brilliantly coloured beetle the size of his hand sauntered across a little mulch-strewn clearing in front of the machine. Andrew gaped, hardly daring to believe the evidence of his eyes.

"I've done it!" he whispered tensely, and so he had. He had gone back one hundred million years into the past.

"A small step for me, a great step for Mankind!" he misquoted and then giggled. Suddenly he felt fine and, for the first time in his life, he knew that he was completely free. Then he sobered. He had only a few hours in the past and he was supposed to observe, to speak into the tape, and to record his observations. The camera built into the hull would record the outside environment well enough, for it was set on continuous running, but it had a weakness. It was a machine and could not become curious nor have feelings, and that was why it had been decided to send a human observer. He accordingly switched on the recording mike and, in the best manner of a foreign correspondent, began.

"Andrew Martin here, reporting from..." He paused and peered at the board, "...the year 96,500,045 BC. That is, if I can trust these dials!" He gave a short laugh then winced. That little remark would certainly cost him a reprimand.

He continued then for a short time, giving details about the world outside and about his own thoughts and feelings. At the end of it all he switched off the mike.

Two more hours to go. He settled back in the seat and frowned. Then he looked through the right hand port, then through the left, then through the front one, and as he stared morosely out at the jungle a thought arose unbidden in his skull, a thought that, in the normal course of life at the Centre would never have even dared to exist.

Andrew eyed the big red lever next to him. It was attached to a small oval door at his side and was marked "Emergency Use Only." "Exit," said the display light over the door.

"No!" he told himself as firmly as possible. The door, in any case, would surely be connected to some sort of recording device.

"Oh well," he thought. "Just to fill in the time, I may as well check that the door is properly wired." A good scientist should always know his machine.

Reconnecting the recording device so that the opening of the door would not break the current was the work of a moment. Breathing hard, Andrew pulled down on the red lever, watching the light marked "Door" on his control panel with great interest but it stayed safely dead. With his heart pounding he next swung the door open and stared out at the trees, the leaves, the soil. A fresh, pungent, compost smell, the smell of a turned garden bed, flowed in past him.

He quickly scrambled out and pushed the door loosely back into place, hoping that the change in cabin temperature had not been recorded.

Now, how long did he have? He looked at his watch and found that he had one hour and forty minutes left. Drawing a deep breath of the fresh air, he stretched luxuriously and sighed then knelt and scooped up a handful of soil, crumbled it in his fingers, held it up and breathed in its fragrance. He picked a leaf, rubbed it against his cheek, revelling in its smooth, cool surface. He looked up into the tops of the trees, where the distant sky showed blue and clean, so different from the sky of his own era.

Then he saw the woman standing quietly under a nearby tree, gazing at him in a mixture of wonder and fear. She was quite small, about chest height, with long, pointed breasts and broad hips, her skin a light tan and her hair was black and cascaded down over her shoulders. Her pubic hair was a lush bush and her eyes were dark brown and very serious.

She was also not supposed to exist in this era at all!

Andrew knew he must do something, anything, to stop her from running away.

He looked about, at trunk after massive tree trunk as they marched off into the gloom and, slowly, hesitantly, began pulling off his overalls. He must somehow show her that he was a human, and harmless and this was the only way he could think of.

She started when she saw his activity, and moved back a few steps, but then stood and watched in wonder as this strange being pulled off its hide. Finally he was completely naked. She moved forward, and for the first time, smiled. Slowly she stepped up to him, and said something in flowing, liquid sounds. She pointed at his genitals.

Suddenly he was aware of being engorged and getting harder as he looked at her. She smiled again and played with her nipples, making them stand up quite hard. Now Andrew, quite out of control, began to pump his organ with one hand, making it fully rigid, and reaching out with the other to the woman. She became serious again and swayed forward, pushed his hand from his dick and began to squeeze it. She said something gently to him and then he was holding her in his arms and she was rubbing herself against his naked body. She knelt and looked at the large erection she held in her hand, inspecting it all over, then she drooled copiously on its tip and began to suck on it, taking it deep in her mouth, at the same time cupping his balls and then grabbing his buttocks and clawing at them. She paused and looked up into his face, her eyes glistening with excitement and arousal. The glans of his penis was fully engorged, swollen, its rim erect, the hole gaping and wet with precum.

"Let's fuck," grunted Andrew and the little woman must have understood in some way for she immediately fell on all fours, presenting to him. Her slit was a generous one and quite wet with her mucus. He knelt and poked into her delightfully tight little hole and began ramming into her to her cries of pain and then of pleasure as she quickly climaxed, going into spasm around him as he shot his load.

He pulled out and they lay on the leaves of the forest floor for a while, then she jumped up, making those wonderful tits shake, and pulled him to his feet. She began to lead him off into the forest.

"Mustn't get lost," he muttered feverishly, glancing back at the capsule. Like a giant enamel egg it sat among the trees. The round hole that marked the camera lens was not visible, but this was as he had planned it. No one must know of his venture. They had told him time and time again of the dangers of tampering with the past.

"Look, Andrew," old Sanders had said, scratching his bald pate. "It's like this. We know how to work the capsule, but that's all. We know nothing of..." He paused, pursed his lips and frowned, looking about him for inspiration. "...the texture of time. Yes. That's it. The texture. We've already taken an enormous risk in sending any of the probes back at all. We don't know just how much of our own time we've altered in doing so already!"

Now, recalling the conversation, Andrew grinned.

"What twaddle!" he thought as he wandered even deeper into the trees. Soon he was so far away from the capsule that he could no longer see it and now he wanted the prehistoric woman again. He stood and pulled her to him and she understood, only this time she faced a giant tree trunk, placed her hands against its rough grey park and stuck her buttocks out towards him, exposing her engored and quite large piss lips. They were already dripping with her woman juice. He himself at this sight became instantly hard again and lost not time in penetrating her, this time with a little more ease, and began a long, slow pleasuring, to the sound of her little cries of delight. Then she stopped. Something, he felt, was wrong, but he kept going and came in two great spurts of his semen in her hot little body. Now he realised that she had gone quite rigid and was looking to her left. Slowly he turned his own head, and froze.

Something the size of a dining room table was standing directly beside them. Something with a grey scaly skin and a big mouth. The mouth in question opened at this point and hissed loudly, revealing a startlingly blue tongue.

"Shit!" said Andrew, his heart sinking. He pulled out of the woman and, still rampant, sidled to the left but the Thing, no amateur at this sort of game, sidled off too. It hissed again, daring Andrew to run. Out of the corner of his eye Andrew saw the girl glide off among the trees and hoped she would make safety.

"Go away, ya mongrel!" said Andrew, weakly. The Thing swayed slightly on its heavy legs and continued to look at Andrew with great interest. He on his part looked desperately around but saw nothing he could throw. The ground, deep in its millennial mulch, offered no stone, no rock, no pebble. Andrew, still eyeing his new friend, did however spot an old log and cautiously reached for the nearest end, lifting it slowly. As he did so, however, the large hairy growth on the other end began to walk towards his hand.

Andrew screamed and hurled the log, and the giant spider, as far as possible from him. The Thing, taking this to be an invitation to join in, surged forward with frightening speed, mouth agape and hundreds of needle-sharp teeth glistening.

Before it could engulf the time traveller, however, a long column of grey flesh, equipped with an equally impressive set of dentures, flashed in front of the doomed gaze of the human and the original Thing was dragged, roaring in frustration, to the side.

Andrew saw no more for, as if of their own volition, his legs had surged into action, over-riding his idiot brain, and had carried him far from the scene of the attack.

When he stopped to draw breath, neither of the huge animals was in sight, but then neither was the capsule. Certain that he had no hope, he stumbled forward.

Finally, unbelievably, he found it, and climbed with desperate speed into his overalls, picking up his wrist watch and putting it on. It was almost time to depart!

Screaming hysterically he threw himself at the door, wrenched it open and slumped into his seat.

"5, 4, 3..." said the voice from the speaker. The door! He had not shut the door! But even as he leaned over and pulled at it the universe snapped like a giant elastic band and he blacked out once more.

His first thought when he came to was to check the door and to his relief he found it shut. Outside, in the grey Ops Room, the white-coated staff were milling around the display panels along the walls and a small group, headed by Sanders, was cautiously approaching the capsule.

No one suspected his adventure and if any of the technicians noted the fragments of leaf mulch on the capsule's floor, they made no comment. Technicians were trained to obey orders and not to ask questions and for this Andrew was profoundly grateful.

Debriefing procedures took the rest of the day but Andrew was able to go home that evening. His health would be monitored for weeks to come, but that was all. As far as the Project was concerned, his part had ended and other Chrononauts would now take his place in the capsule.

The sun was setting as Andrew turned the key in his front door. He looked the gathering night and shivered as he thought of his close encounter with the giant lizard, then he stepped inside. Petal was clattering around in the kitchen and filled with a certain trepidation at her presence he shuffled into the room.

"I'm back, dear." he said, cautiously.

"Oh good," she cooed, and turned to him. She quickly turned down the stove and came to him. "I can't wait to get this in me after all that time!" she added, putting a hand over his crutch and squeezing. Then she pulled him into the bedroom, where they both stripped in haste and where she made love in a most athletic way.

Later Andrew discovered that Joyce lived with them now, and that she too had become quite biddable and was an even more exciting partner in bed than Petal. He also discovered that the norm was now for women to be like this and that somehow, as it were, their genes had been altered, making them much more like that little woman in the past.

The important result was that Andrew never again had to walk round stiff and frustrated, for even in the office there was now and pretty little secretary whose normal secretarial work alternated with that of being the Office Helpful, as they called her. This side of her job consisted in being on hand for any of the male staff who might want to mount her, or might simply need hand relief. She was small and dark and had large tits and reminded Andrew strangely of his prehistoric lover.

Not that Andrew had much cause to use her in this most perfect of all worlds, for now all women seemed to welcome any advance, and just a glance and a nod to a nubile woman in the train who took your fancy was enough for her to follow you into the many little booths that dotted the city, where she was happy to welcome you onto her broad belly.

Andrew did not know how all this had happened and was wise enough not to make enquiries at the Centre.