Gramps' Legacy Ch. 04

"When do you leave?" Mom asked, a bit of a twinkle in her eye. "Maybe Pan and I could drive up toward the end of the week to join you."

"Kids!" harrumphed Nana. "Think just because we're older than they are, we're not interested in some relaxing downtime. You all just go on and enjoy yourselves. Rose and I will potter about our gardens, like we're expected to do."

Although it was easy to hear the hurt in her voice, I also detected a lot of laughter, and realized she was poking fun at us for not thinking about including them. "Nana, you know better than that. I know very well how much you enjoy your "relaxing down time", but I promised Lande some extended one on one time before she had to leave, and, with all that has been going on since she arrived, this is the only time we have left."

"Okay, you two," said Gramm. "I just hope The Notch doesn't live up to its original name while you're up there."

"Original name, Gramm? What was that?"

"From the time of the Civil War right up through Prohibition, it was called Smugglers Cove."

Teleporting is a lot of fun, usually. I had been practicing around town for the past couple of weeks, and could leap across the city without any problem. I quickly learned that the difference between a short (few yards) leap and a longer (up to a few miles) was strictly a matter of concentration. Oh, yeah, the longer leaps required more energy, and made you horny for some reason we hadn't been able to figure out.

It also made a difference whether you were the transporter or the transportee. When I grabbed Pan out of her imprisonment, the energy expenditure by me overrode my horniness and I slept for a couple of days. Essentially, Pan had been just like a package, and other than being surprised when she landed, had experienced no side effects at all.

I had a pretty good idea of the location and layout of the cottage we were going to, and was able to identify the island on a St Lawrence river navigation map I had for Lande. As soon as Nana and Gramm left, we packed some swimsuits and clothes for when the sun went down, said adios to Pan and Mom, wrapped our arms around each other and made the leap to the cabin.

At 250 miles, it was a hell of a lot longer leap than I, personally, had ever tried before, so I linked with Lande to tap into her energy. The only nearly comparable experience I had was when I had teleported Pan. I needn't have worried, though. We were right on the money, in the bed room, when we landed.

It was dark, we were horny, and the bed was made. We used it, and fell asleep after a satisfying celebration. That was about ten o'clock. Toward one, my bladder needed attention, and I decided to celebrate my arrival by watering the lawn, so to speak, with my natural liquid fertilizer.

As I was pissing off the back porch, facing the eastern end of the island, I heard some motor boats, and what sounded like tractors coming from the Notch. I could just make out a glimmer of light outlining the hump in the middle of the island. I went back to the bedroom and woke up Lande to tell her I was going to see what was going on in case she woke up and got upset because I wasn't there. Until I knew what was gong on, I didn't want her outside hollering for me.

From the cottage to the Notch was a short, quarter-mile leap. Using a technique the girls had taught me, I was able to make myself invisible to almost anyone who might be in my landing area. Which was good, because the tractor noise was a small fork lift, carrying what I discovered to be assault rifles. They were being off loaded from boats coming from Canada and stored in the kids cottage.

As soon as the boats were empty, they headed back to Canada. While I was looking around, a smaller launch approached from the American side. As soon as it made fast to the dock, five crates of guns were brought down to be loaded. I contacted Lande to warn her to stay inside. Then I reached out to Mom.

"Mom? Holy shit, you wouldn't believe what's going on up here. Some arms dealers are using the island as a staging area. Get hold of agent Henry; he's the FBI agent who told us about Eileen. Remember?

"Yeah, I know it's one thirty in the morning. Okay, call the border patrol in Watertown. Tell them one of our neighbors up here called you about something that looked like drug smugglers on the island. But hurry, and tell them to hurry, I can't keep casting confusion spells all night.

"Yes, I'll be careful. I love you, too, Mom."

We were lucky. There had been several similar reports over the past few months, and the Border Patrol actually had a crew about ten minutes away. Just before they came within sensing distance, the captain/boss of the Canadian boat came ashore to see what was taking so long. That was me. I had cast a general confusing spell which made everyone undo what ever they had just done in the previous thirty seconds, so there was a lot of activity going on which was simply repeating and reversing whatever the workers had just accomplished.

I was standing off to the side, watching, when the boss shouted, "Hey, you! Who the fuck are you? What are you doing here?" and pointing at me. That simply added to the confusion, since the workers couldn't see me or what/who he was yelling at. The guy driving the fork lift looked to see what was going on and drove off the dock and tipped over into the small launch waiting for its load, sinking it.

At the boss's command to grab me, all the workers started running around in circles, still under the reversal spell. When he started toward me, I first tried to get into his head to erase his vision of me, but that wasn't going to happen. It was like trying to run through a cement wall. I took the coward's way out. I teleported to the far end of the dock.

When I got there, I yelled to him, drawing his attention to me, and, hopefully, creating a little fear. I don't know how well that worked, because he started charging through the melee and running toward the dock. I'm not proud of my actions that night.

I erected an invisible barrier in his path. Maybe barrier is the wrong word; it was more of a post, about thirty inches tall. He hit it full tilt, with his balls. There was no cry of extreme pain, no howl of agony. He simply stopped, mid stride, and sank to his knees, his hands cupping his crotch, while his face looked like he had swallowed something tasting like carrion smells. He knelt there about twenty seconds, then slowly fell forward onto his face. That's where the border patrol found him.

As soon as I saw them step ashore, I released the reversal spell and teleported back to the cottage. Lande had been following my activities and greeted me with that peculiar mixture of love, relief, and anger people display toward a loved one whom, they believe, has been dangerously reckless.

We were busy celebrating my return when the Border Patrol knocked on the door. I guess the odor of sex convinced them that we really had no idea of anything going on at the other end of the island. Of course, it helped that I knew the officer who came to the door. He frequently stopped in to talk to Gramps and crack open a brew or two when we were up there. When Lande joined me at the door, wrapped in a towel, he just grinned and said he'd check back tomorrow.

As he walked down the steps, Lande and I stepped out onto the porch. It was a beautiful night. The air felt soft, almost velvety. It looked like you could see every star in the sky, and the aurora was bright, a pale greenish white against the dark sky. It was beautiful, with the pin pricks of the stars shining through the dancing lights.

I went back in and grabbed some blankets and our pillows. We made up a bed of sorts on the porch and lay down to catch some sleep. At least that was the plan.

Lande turned on her side and slid her leg over mine. "This is so peaceful. It wouldn't take much to convince me to stay here. Peaceful and beautiful. I've never seen so many stars. Not even in the country in Ireland, and it's silly, because it's the same sky."

Her hand started to lightly caress my chest, traveling in a circular pattern, each time venturing a little lower on my abdomen. "Mmm, careful, babe, or you're going to wake up my one-eye, and you know what that means."

"Mm hmm. Isn't that why we came here?" Her hand had reached the top of my thatch, and she began to gently tug on the hair, and twirling it around her fingers, as if she were making finger curls.

"Are you having fun?" I asked, with a chuckle. "Is there something else you want to play with?"

"Now that you mention it," she said, taking hold of Charlie. He was already more than half hard, and with a few strokes, she had him quite serviceable. "Mmm, and it's all for me. Thank you for this time. Now that it's too late to make a difference, I should tell you, I'm fertile this week." She moved over me and slid her lady over Charlie.

"Come in me, cousin. I want your baby. If it happens tonight, it'll be a boy, or even tomorrow. So, if you want to father a son, come in me, now. Then when we go home, you can give Pan a little girl. And your Mom is still young enough. You could even give her a baby. How does that sound, cousin?"

Her lips on mine prevented any answer other than a moan. She chuckled as she felt Charlie grow harder and longer. "That's what I thought, mother fucker." The laugh in her voice took away the sting that epithet usually carries. "Come on, motherrr fuckerrr, I want your first born. I'd prefer a boy, so I can make my own mother fucker, but I'll take a little girl to bring up to service her daddy."

She was moving her hips up and down and side to side and to and fro and any other direction she could think of. I was trying to thrust up into her, but with all her gyrations, it was difficult. "Just lie still, Will; let me do this tonight. I want to earn my child, our child, our warlock." She began to move faster. Her hips, if I could have seen them, must have been a blur.

"Come on, Will, give me your seed. Do it. Come in me, you...ou... oh oh oh, I'm I'm I'm gonnnnnnaaaaaa aaarrrgggghhhhhh i'mmmmmmmmm coooommmmmiiiinnnng!" Her hips slammed down onto my cock and squeezed me tight. I could feel her lady spasming on Charlie, trying to milk him. It was enough. The roiling in my balls reached its peak as she collapsed on my chest and I hosed down her vaginal walls, setting off another mini climax. Her lips found mine and from the suction, I thought she was trying to find a new way to get pregnant.

We lay there for nearly ten minutes, joined at the genitals. We were kissing lightly, tongues involved, but barely, playing mostly. I was stroking her back, from her shoulders down to her ass, gently petting her. It wasn't until she moved to get off we realized Charlie was still imitating a dildo. Lande grinned and pushed herself back down to fully engulf him.

"Something you want to say?" she asked, grinning.

I nodded, returning her smile, and rolling to put her on her back. "Fuck you."

The gun bust made the national news. They were traced to a group back in the country where I rescued Pan. Because of the publicity, boat traffic around the island was so heavy I could have walked to shore, so one night, after dark, we made the leap home. Nana and Mom were waiting for me with open arms, and admonishments about being careful. Pan greeted Lande with a hug and kiss. "Congratulations, daddy," she said when they separated. "It looks like I get to try to have your first son."

"How can you tell so soon? She can't be more than two days pregnant."

"That's easy," she said with a smile. "I'm a witch."

It's a year later, almost. Nine and a half months. I'm in the obstetrics waiting room with Eileen, Lande, and Pan. Nana and Gramm are there, both holding my two, week-old daughters. Marie is there, holding Eileen's hand, whose belly is swollen with my son and we are waiting for Mom to add her daughter to the mix.

Somehow, I don't think my life is going to get less complicated.

The End (For now)