First Estate

After a long dispute with my publisher, which resulted in my having to take down my stories, I changed agents and found a new publisher. As a result, I am now free to post my stories on Literotica again.

I must thank my editing team. Harddaysknight is my mentor and gives me critical advice. SBrooks103x also reads for me. My editors are Papakilo14, Hal, Olddave1951, GeorgeAnderson and Pixel the Cat. Thank you for all you do for me, gentlemen. I love you

"And the angels which kept not their first estate, but left their own habitation, he hath reserved in everlasting chains under darkness unto the judgment of the great day." Jude 6, the Bible.

Chapter One

I've always been very careful. I had an idea when I was a child that I was different; I just didn't know how different. I came to realize quickly that I was taller, stronger, faster and smarter than the kids I went to school with, but some people are. Others here and there seemed physically similar, so I just thought I was like them. It stood me in good stead throughout school. I could play sports better than most and that alone made life easier.

I never liked football. I injured a kid in the sixth grade and that made me sort of queasy about unleashing my full strength. Basketball and track were a different story. I dominated teams at basketball. Basketball is a bit of a political game in many schools. Mom moved me to a new school when I was a junior. I was all state my sophomore year for my old team but the new coach cared more about making sure the principal's kid started than he did about winning. He kept me on the bench unless the principal's kid got in foul trouble. Everyone knew it was a douche move, but what could I do? After the second game, Mom cornered him and words flew. He stuck his finger in her chest and she nearly broke it off. He tried to file charges but there were too many witnesses and he wound up being charged with assault. She paid tuition for me to go across town to another school. We played his team in the finals of the Christmas tournament and I got 63 points against them. We played them twice more and I never got less than 50. I was all state and all American that year. I was interviewed a dozen times and when they asked me what gave me motivation I always told the reporters I remembered I wasn't good enough to play for Cleo Elbert. My old school fired him at the end of the year and he never got a job coaching again. They tried to get me to come back after he was gone, but that bridge was burnt as far as I was concerned. Very few could compete with my speed or strength in track. I quit running in high school and concentrated on the shot put.

My mother was always very proud of me. I never knew my father and Mom didn't talk about him. I gathered that it was a one-night stand in her indiscrete youth and I never questioned her about it. She was a really relaxed and cool Mom, and I thought she was probably a hippie type when she was younger. I really didn't want to know. Mommy issues were complicated enough and I had no time for Daddy issues. She was a very complex person and I loved her with all my heart.

Brawn was natural to me and I reveled in it. Brain was another story. I could read when I started kindergarten. I knew some other kids couldn't but it didn't seem like a big deal until Mrs. Vincent told my mom she wanted to test me to see if I was gifted. Mom wasn't happy about that at all. She got out a toy and showed it to me. I remembered it from when I was very young. It had four wooden pegs that you hammered on with a wooden mallet until they went through the holes and stuck out on the other side. Then you turned it over and drove them back through to the other side. She hammered three of the pegs down about an inch and handed me the hammer. One was still sticking up.

"Now, Parker; which one of the pegs will you hammer?"

I chose the one that was sticking up and drove it down to the level of the others.

"Why did you choose that one?" she asked.

"It was different and I made it like the others."

"That's right. I'm teaching you a lesson here about life. The lesson is that you don't want to stick up. You don't want to be the peg that's different. If you do and someone has a hammer, which one of you will they use it on?"

"I guess on me. Mom, how can I help sticking up? I'm taller than everyone else in my class."

"I know, baby," she told me. "But you don't want to be sticking up everywhere. I know how smart you are. I want you to do well at school, but not so well that you make everyone else look dumb. People don't like feeling dumb. They'll resent you for making them feel little, but that's okay. They can live with you being bigger. If you make them feel dumb, too, that's just piling on resentment. Do your work; get it right, but don't do so well that you're so much ahead of everyone else that you look like a mental giant, too. Do you understand what I'm trying to tell you?"

I got it. I did well on the test, but I could have done a lot better. I stayed at the top of my class, but not so far beyond what everyone else was doing that they thought something odd was going on. I learned early that you don't have to tell everything you know. It just makes you look arrogant.

It was the same thing in track. I could easily throw the shot 30 feet farther than anyone else. I never did. I won every meet in high school and set the state record, but not nearly by as much as I could have.

I did well enough at both athletics and academics to get into Harvard. They used a little under the table deal to get Mom a good job in Boston so I could afford to go there. I made all the right connections and impressed my professors and coaches enough that I never had a minute of difficulty. By the time I graduated from the school of international business I was six feet eight inches and 320 pounds. None of it was fat belly either.

I was heavily recruited by several large corporations and drafted in the second round by the Baltimore Ravens. Finally, I took a sweet deal at Apple. They signed me to a long-term contract and I had no trouble moving up through the ranks. I wound up in sales and I was good at it. Being an NCAA shot put champion and a Harvard graduate opened doors.

When I was 26, I discovered I could do things nobody else could. I was walking across the street in Austin, Texas, and a man ran a red light and came blasting through the crosswalk. A little girl and a young woman were walking ahead of me and I somehow sensed that they, and I, were in danger. The next thing I knew, we were standing on the sidewalk and I was holding one of them in each arm. The car hit the man walking behind me and splattered him across the street. Tires screeched and there was a sickening sound as his body flew through the air.

I had no idea what had happened, but we were safe and we should have been dead. I set the two girls down and they began to collapse. I picked them up, carried them to a nearby bench and sat them down on it. I knelt down in front of them and held them up.

"You ladies okay?" I asked.

The little one looked up at me. She seemed to be recovering quicker than the other one.

"You saved our lives," she said. "How did you do that? Are you Superman?"

"Sorry, I didn't see a handy phone booth or I'd be in uniform." We both laughed. "I saw the guy coming and I just scooped you up and ran," I told her.

I knew it was a lie. I had no recollection of running and there was no way I could have gotten away from that car in time. I had moved, somehow, without moving. I looked the two girls over.

The little one was cute as a button. She looked like she was in the second or third grade. She had a medium length pageboy haircut and her hair was as black as night. Her cheeks were rosy and her eyes were grey. She was the poster child for cute little girls.

The other one was obviously related to her. This was what the little one would look like when she grew up. She didn't have the haircut though. She had the same hair color, but it was very long, hanging down to mid-thigh and it was a mess. The trip to the bench had it all wrapped around her and I wanted to reach out and straighten it up. She had very fair, creamy skin and her eyes were spectacular. They seemed grey one moment and then green or blue the next, depending on how the light struck them. There was a little sprinkle of freckles across her nose. I spoke to the little one again.

"Are you hurt?"

"No," she said. "I think you bruised me a little when you grabbed me, but I'm fine."

She turned to the other one. "Are you okay, Sagan?"

She collected herself a little and combed her hair out of her face with her fingers.

"Yes, I'm okay, too. I'm like you; a little bruised maybe and a lot shaken up, but considering that you saved our lives I'm glad to just be here."

She reached out her hand and patted my shoulder. She smiled and her teeth flashed, sending a flash through me, too.

"Thank you, kind stranger. I don't know how we'll ever be able to thank you enough. That poor man, though; God, what happened?"

Emergency vehicles and personnel had arrived and I could hear a paramedic talking to a police officer. The driver had apparently had a heart attack and he was dead, too.

"The driver of that car had a heart attack and ran through the red light." I told them.

"How did you know that?" the little one asked.

"I heard that paramedic tell that policeman," I told her.

"You must have very good hearing," she said. "There you go with the Superman thing again."

I realized that they were too far away for the girls to hear them. I had slipped a little. I had to cover my mistake.

"I'm Parker Stephens," I told them. "I'm sorry I shook you up like that, but there wasn't time to do anything else."

"I'm Boston McDonald, and this is my sister Sagan," the little one told me.

"We're very happy to meet you," Sagan told me. "Especially considering we'd both be dead if you hadn't saved us. I don't know how we'll ever thank you."

"I do," Boston said.

She stood up, threw her arms around me, hugged me and kissed me on the cheek.

"You're huge, Parker," she said. "No wonder you could just pick us up like that. I'm going to love you forever."

Her sister held out her hand.

"Sagan," Boston objected, "Parker just saved our lives and you're going to shake his hand?"

She laughed. "I guess that doesn't seem like much of a thank you. Is it okay if I hug you, too?"

"That would be very okay, but I'll tell you what; where were you girls going?"

"We're Christmas shopping," Boston told me. "We were going to Buckle over there."

"Have you had lunch yet?" I asked.

"No, Sagan said she would take me out in a little bit."

"Let me buy you girls lunch, you tell me everything about yourselves and we'll call it square."

"Oh, no, we should buy your lunch," Sagan said. "You saved our lives, it's the least we could do."

"Well, since I did, the Native Americans say I'm responsible for you now. That means I'm responsible for feeding you, so lunch is on me. Really, I'm on an expense account and I know a place that has a great pizza. They have a wood-fired oven and they know me there. What do you say?"

"We'd love to go," Boston hopped up and down. "Can we go, Sagan?"

"I suppose," she said. "You aren't a serial killer or anything, are you, Parker."

"Yes," I told them, "I just didn't want that poor guy to get you. I was saving you for myself. But, I thought we already established that I'm Superman."

They both laughed and it was enchanting to watch them.

"The police are going to come over here any time and ask us if we saw anything. It's up to you girls, but I don't want to be a witness. I don't have time to be tied up in court. Is it okay if I tell him we don't know anything?"

They agreed to the plan and, sure enough, the police officer came over and I quickly assured him that we didn't see anything. We walked down a block and crossed back over. I had my car parked two blocks away and Boston's eyes lit up when she saw it.

"No, that isn't your car, is it, Parker?"

"Yep, that's my baby," I told her.

"It's beautiful. What is it?"

"It's a 1970 Dodge Challenger R/T 426 Hemi Convertible," I told her. "It's a little chilly, but would you like to put the top down?"

"Sagan's hair will blow, but I want to. Can we, Sagan?"

"Sure, I'll just look like a witch when we get there, but don't mind me," she laughed.

"It isn't far," I told her. "It's about a mile and I'll drive slowly. You want to sit in the back or front, Boston?"

"I'll sit in the back. I'm little. Sagan can sit by you."

We climbed in and I put the top down. I fired it up and the big Hemi rumbled to life. The cam lope made the whole car shake and I could see the girl's eyes shine with excitement.

I eased into the traffic and we drove along about 30. Sagan held her hair in her hands to keep it from blowing. We stopped at a light and I asked Boston if she wanted me to punch it. She did, very much, so when the light changed I eased up to about ten miles an hour and put the accelerator down. The Hemi roared and the tires broke loose for a bit and pressed them back into their seats. I backed off and shifted into second and we cruised.

"I love this car," Boston shouted. "I want one. How much do they cost?"

"They only made nine," I told her. "There are only three left in the world. The rest were wrecked. I don't think you'll find one for sale."

We pulled up at Anthony's, and I went around and opened their door.

"Sagan, he's a gentleman, too," Boston pointed out. "Parker, do you think you might want to marry me?"

"I'd love to, but I think I'm a little long in the tooth," I told her.

She laughed. "I wish I was older. It's a pain being little. Maybe you could marry Sagan."

"Boston," her sister was half-amused and half-embarrassed. "I think Parker can choose who he wants to marry. Are you married, Parker?"

"Not yet," I told her. "Sounds like I haven't got long though.

The girls laughed again and Boston held my hand as we went in. We got a pizza and sodas and talked over lunch. I found out that Sagan was a junior at the University of Texas; she wasn't married and didn't have a steady boyfriend. Boston was in the fourth grade and she did have a boyfriend. They had a brother in high school and they were Austin natives. They asked about me and I gave them the biography. They were very impressed that I had gone to Harvard and that I worked for Apple. I told them about Mom and Boston got sort of quiet for a while.

"Parker," she finally said. "I'm very grateful to you for saving us, but it was kind of strange. One second we were in the middle of the street and the next second we were 30 feet away on the sidewalk. Maybe I was disoriented, but it seemed like you just teleported us there."

I hesitated for a minute. I liked these girls and I didn't want to lie to them, but how could I explain that?

"I don't know what happened, girls. It was so fast and so desperate I just reacted. I know what you mean. Maybe I was disoriented, too. I don't know how it happened either. I can't explain it. I've always been faster and stronger than anyone I know. Maybe it's genetic or something. I just saw that we were going to be killed and the next thing I knew I was holding you on the sidewalk."

Sagan's eyes ran over me. "You are very big, Parker. How strong are you?"

I decided to be honest. "I don't know. I've never exerted my full strength."

"Do you lift weights?" Boston asked.

"Yes, but I never really push it. Sometimes when I'm at the gym with really strong guys, I lift a lot, but I always feel like I could lift more. I can't teleport, though. Sorry, Boston."

"Well, I'd like to see how strong you are," Sagan said. "You're a very interesting person, Parker."

"I like you, too," I told them. "Do you girls think we could do this again sometime?"

"I'd love to," Boston said. "Will you ask Sagan out on a date?"

"Boston, stop that. I'm sorry, Parker. She's always trying to set me up with someone."

"I'd love to go on a date with Sagan," I told Boston. "Sagan, will you go out with me?"

She blushed, but she looked me in the eye. "Yes, I will go on a date with you, but don't think you have to ask me because Boston thinks it's a good idea."

"I don't. Boston's a smart girl. Are you busy Friday evening?"

"Yes, I'm doing something with Boston, but I can go Saturday."

"I'll pick you up at six," I told her. "But I want Boston to go with us. Is that possible?"

"Oh, my God," Boston exclaimed. "Sagan, you're crazy if you let this guy get away. I'd love to go with you guys, but maybe next time. I think you should be alone on your first date."

We went back to the car and I drove them back to Buckle. I let them out and Boston ran and jumped on me. I caught her and gave her a squeeze and a kiss on the top of the head.

When I set her down, Sagan came up and hugged me, too. I realized how tall she was. She must have been six feet or a little more. She held the hug a long time and I felt her shudder a little. I looked down and she was crying.

"Hey, it's okay," I told her. "There's nothing to cry about."

"Yes there is," she told me. "I almost died today. So did Boston, and the only reason we're here is that you rescued us. I don't want to let you go."

"I know, I don't want to let you go either. Maybe it was fate. I wouldn't have met the two most beautiful girls in Austin if this hadn't happened. I feel bad about the guy driving that car and the guy that got hit, but everything else has been the most wonderful thing that's ever happened to me. It isn't over. You're going out with me Saturday, remember?"

She stood on her tiptoes to kiss my cheek. Her lips were as soft as a feather against my skin and then she stepped back. I gave her my card and my cell phone number; got her number and they went in the store. I stood there for a minute thinking. I shook my head and got in the car.

I sent Mom a text. "Mom, I've met the girl of my dreams, but we need to talk. I'm going to buy you an open ticket to Austin. Come as soon as you can."

Chapter Two

Mom flew in on Thursday and I picked her up at the airport. I took her out for dinner at a nice Mexican place and we caught up while we ate. I really didn't know where to start and I beat around the bush for a while. Finally, she had enough and she set her glass down and took my hand in hers.

"I know you want to ask me something, Parker. What is it, baby?"

"Something weird happened to me Monday, Mom; something really weird. We don't talk about this stuff, but it's creeping me out and I've got to talk to someone."

"What is it? Tell Mama, Parker."

I explained what had happened with Sagan and Boston and how I had teleported to the sidewalk, to use Boston's word. I told her about holding back all these years so I wouldn't stand out and how it was driving me crazy.

"We can't talk about this here," she told me. "Take me to my hotel and we'll talk there. This is going to be a shock to you, so gather up your wits."

I drove her to the Hilton, she checked in and we went up to her room. She never wanted to stay with me for some reason. She got me a beer and opened one for herself. We sat on the sofa and she snuggled up against me and laid her head on my chest.

"You know I love you, right baby?"

"Yes, Mom, you've been there for me all my life. I know that."

"Then keep that in mind while I tell you some things."

She gathered her thoughts for a minute.

"I need to tell you about your father," she told me. "You've never asked me about him and I really didn't know what to tell you, so we just ignored it. Have you ever heard the word Nephilim?"

"No, I haven't. What does it mean?"

"Well, it's a Semitic word and in the King James Version of the Bible, it's translated 'giant.' It's really a name and it can't be translated."