"I dunno. It was clear in my mind, but when I try to say it..." she trailed off.Brock nodded violently. "I get it," he said. "Picture this: what if we...somehow got to the machine and changed the reality that the cop guy, the one that kidnapped you, was ever born? And let's say we signed that computer code: 'This erasure of existence brought to you by Brock!' OK?"I nodded cautiously."Now, in this new reality, at the exact same time you were kidnapped, we'd be just sitting around with you ... er. . He gassed me ... straight into the ground ... ball of jelly ... dead ... except I didn't ... die. They ... we all know who they are ... sent me back to be a kid ... in my family ... that's how I knew the derby winners."I was supposed to change things ... I did. You are here. In my first life, you died in 1959. I must have been doing a piss poor job because I died this year in Vietnam and got resurrected in 1942..." You talked at birth." Yup ... you remembered ... and Grace was born fifteen. His trimmed blonde pubes shimmered in what little light the neon beer signs gave off. And his balls, extremely large and very low hanging, swung back-and-forth with each stroke his cock received from Casey.Casey’s equipment was even bigger by an inch or two, though not as thick, and curved slightly to his right. He was uncut, his foreskin sliding back-and-forth over the head of his cock, making it moist and slippery. His balls were high and tight, covered with dark hair and his pubes were. Her thumb came to rest on her throbbing clitoris. It was only a few minutes of that manual manipulation until she felt the familiar heat, the warning of impending explosion. A moment of stillness, and the rush of waves, convulsions of nerves, seepage of fluid. Her breathing was hard and quick, she uttered something unintelligible, gripping the steering wheel, her hips still in the air as she orgasmed. After the spasms subsided, she relaxed a few moments, her head back on the headrest with her.
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