Jay Reynolds stood next to the freshly poured concrete slab. He compared his blueprints to the steel rebar protruding from the floor and nodded in satisfaction. The rain had held off just long enough. His gamble to pour concrete on a day when thunderstorms were predicted would keep him on schedule. His concrete crew had every reinforcing bar perfectly placed. The block masons would have no trouble locating door and window openings. Jay always paid attention to the details but he wanted this house to be exceptional; it was the hundredth he had built after striking out on his own as a contractor.

Jay thanked his concrete finishers as they packed up to leave. He treated his subcontractors well; after all, they did the work, not him. His philosophy was to treat everyone with respect and expect the same in return. Subs appreciated his efforts and did their best work for him.

The finishers drove off and Jay made a few scheduling notes. He needed to confirm block delivery and let his mason know the house was ready to lay up blocks. Thunder boomed closer but rain wasn’t a problem now, the only area that was still wet was the garage floor and it was covered with plastic.

"Building my one hundredth house", he reflected, "never in my wildest dreams had the idea of being a builder come up".

Retired from the Army with a Special Forces background, he had always thought the FBI or DEA would be his future and he had groomed himself for it. But after twenty-five years, four combat tours and the death of his wife, the routine and attention to detail that building a good house required was just what he needed. Besides, the self-confidence, work ethic, and leadership he developed during his military career gave him an advantage over his civilian competitors.

Those same skills, along with a quick wit and wry sense of humor, served him pretty well with the ladies also. He was okay looking, and still in decent shape, but he knew he was no heartthrob. Yet women, some young enough to be his daughters, were strongly drawn to him.

"If I had known at fifteen, what I know now," he thought, "I’d have been god’s gift to women."

Jay shook his head in wonder; his rueful chuckle was the last breath this body ever took.

_______________________________________________________________________

Jay woke up disoriented. He groggily scanned the area around him trying to take in every detail. He was obviously in a hospital room or, judging from the outdated equipment around him, a clinic of some kind. It was dark outside but the room he was in was fairly well lit. There was an IV pole on his right with a glucose drip suspended from the top and, surprisingly, a half filled catheter bag at the base. Jay’s next surprise came as he was reading the label on the IV bag. The fact that he could read the small print without squinting was news to him as he was far sighted and used reading glasses. He raised his hand to see if he might have dozed off wearing his glasses, surprise number three, that was not his hand!

Jay dropped the hand he raised (he couldn’t call it his yet) and tried to think back to the last thing he remembered before waking in this place. He recalled standing by the newly poured slab and noticing the suddenly darkening sky, then a bright flash and… holy shit…he must have been struck by lightening. That explained the hospital, now what about his eyesight and hand. Jay continued looking around the room and noticed a chart hanging at the foot of his bed. With some effort (why was he so weak, he wondered) he reached out his strange new appendage and snagged the clipboard.

He quickly scanned the patient info sheet, "Crap, it wasn’t even his chart".

Jay was still reading the chart when the door opened and a young candy striper stepped into the room. The girl took one look at Jay sitting up in the bed, screamed, dropped the blanket she was carrying, spun on her heels, and left the room as if she’d seen a ghost.

"Now this," Jay said to himself, "is getting stranger by the minute."

Jay lay back down just before the door burst open and an attractive nurse zoomed into the room.

"You’re awake," she gushed.

Jay tried to speak but couldn’t; "Water," he croaked.

The nurse quickly returned with a cup of ice; she put a piece to Jay’s lips and said, "Suck this slowly; I can’t give you anything to drink yet."

The melting ice felt wonderful coating his throat; Jay glanced at the nurse’s nametag and finally found his voice, "Why wouldn’t I be awake, Sara?" he asked.

Sara Douglas answered Jay’s question with one of her own, "You gave Cindy quite a scare; what were you doing when she came in?"

"Reading this chart; it was on my bed and I thought it was mine," Jay said.

"It is your…" Nurse Douglas started to say, then quickly changed tack, "I need to call Dr. Malone, he’ll explain everything". Nurse Douglas quickly departed.

Curious behavior. Jay shrugged and began reading again. The chart belonged to a fifteen-year-old boy named Jacob Turner. Jacob was comatose. According to the attending neurosurgeon, there were no indications of higher brain function and the prognosis was not good. Jacob would probably never regain consciousness; he was doomed to be a vegetable.

"Poor kid," Jay thought. Then his mind quickly shifted to his own situation. Like the flash he remembered at the job site, reality struck him, "I am in that kid’s body; this has got to be a dream!" His mind filled with questions, Jay pushed the nurses’ call button.

Within seconds, Nurse Douglas entered the room and moved to the bed.

"What’s the matter, Jacob?" she asked.

Theory confirmed.

"How long have I been here?"

"You really need to wait to talk to the doctor," Sara replied.

Jay took her hand in his and put on what he hoped was a helpless face, "Please," he said, "I don’t remember anything."

Sara’s face softened. She pulled up a chair, reclaimed his hand, and asked, "Exactly what do you remember?"

"That’s what’s so scary", replied Jay. "I know things but I don’t have any memories, as far as I can tell my life started when I woke up." Then Jay had another thought. Sara’s hairstyle, her uniform and the room’s equipment were all dated. "What’s the date?" he asked.

"June 2nd, a Saturday", she replied.

"What year?" he continued.

Sara looked at him sharply, "1971, of course."

Jay groaned and lay back on the pillow. The coincidence of his last conscious thought and Nurse Douglas’ answer convinced him that this was most definitely some bizarre dream; he would simply go back to sleep and normalcy would return. Yet, what if it wasn’t a dream? What if he woke up in the same place and had no other choice but to become Jacob? A lot of ifs and no facts, but Jay never worried about things he couldn’t control. If he had to become Jacob Turner, he was thoroughly trained to adapt and overcome.

"I think I need to rest now," he said.

Sara released his hand, brushed his hair out of his eyes, and left. Jay closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.

Jay woke up in the same room, early morning sunlight filtering through the window. He turned his head and saw the same pretty Candy Striper sitting by his bed reading a magazine. She glanced up and saw him looking at her. With a squeak, she jumped up and again bolted from the room. Two things were obvious: he truly was now Jacob Turner and that girl’s behavior was truly strange. Before he could reflect on his new status or Cindy’s problem with him being awake, chaos erupted.

The door to Jake’s room burst open and, like clowns from a circus Volkswagen, people poured in. Leading the parade was an attractive woman who looked like she came off the set of a sixty’s sitcom; she immediately swooped Jake’s head to her bosom.

"Jacob, my baby, I knew you wouldn’t leave me," she cried, smothering him with kisses.

Next was an older, serious looking man (think Fred McMurray in My Three Sons).

"Welcome back, son." he said and extended his hand for Jake to shake.

Two teenaged girls stood behind the older couple eyeing him warily Jake assumed the couple were his parents and the girls might be his sisters.

Figuring he had nothing to lose, Jake said "Mom, Dad it’s good to see you; can I have some water please?"

All four of the new arrivals gave him a startled look. Before he could figure out their odd stares, Nurse Douglas and a doctor entered the room. The doctor shooed his family out and began examining Jake. Dr. Malone had a terrible beside manner. Jake was poked and prodded without a word of explanation. Finally, after having Jake follow his small penlight for the fifth time, he spoke.

"I don’t know how or why this happened, young man, but yesterday I thought your chances of even a partial recovery were zero; now it’s hard to tell anything was ever wrong with you," muttered Dr. Malone. "I want to get another EEG and I want to consult with some colleagues."

The doctor wandered off still mumbling and Nurse Douglas poured his a cup of water. "I’m so happy you are awake, Jacob," she said. "Cindy and I stayed an extra shift to make sure you were okay."

Jake gulped down the water and handed her the cup for a refill. "That was sweet of you," he said. "Thank you both; but why does Cindy bolt when she sees me awake?"

"She’s just shy and your waking up is the biggest thing to happen to her since she started volunteering here," replied Sara.

"I see, well, tell her I said thanks for watching out for me." Sara, will you be working this evening? I have some questions I need to ask you."

"I’m back on for 3-11," Sara responded, "We’ll talk then; now spend some time with your family." Surprisingly, she bent down and kissed his forehead.

Jake spent the day getting to know his family. After telling them that he had awoken with gaps in his memory, they eagerly filled him in. Jake kept how little he really knew to himself. Charles, his father, owned a furniture store that seemed to be pretty successful. Charles Turner was about six feet tall with reddish thinning hair and a slight paunch. His mother Helen was eleven years younger than her husband and was truly a knockout; she had thick, wavy, lustrous black hair, china blue eyes, an angelic smile, and a slender, yet curvy figure. Jake’s two older sisters were Debbie and Angie. Debbie was the older at seventeen and Angie was sixteen.

How perfect was it that all three kids were born in the same month, one year apart? Helen smiled as she related that his dad was determined to have a boy so, thank goodness, it only took them three tries. Debbie had dark red hair, green eyes, and the fine unfreckled skin of her mother. Angie had fiery red hair, bright blue eyes, and a dusting of freckles. Both were attractive, tall, and slim. They were strangely quiet and reserved, still watching him guardedly. Jake figured he would find out what that was all about later. After a couple of hours, they all trooped out with promises of visiting tomorrow.

After much grumbling the day nurse brought him some Jell-O, broth, and a promise to ask the doctor if he could have solid food. The nurse also unplugged him from the IV and heart monitor. The catheter was removed but he was cautioned to remain in bed until tomorrow after the doctor’s morning rounds. Jake dozed off after finally getting something to eat.

He woke up sometime in the late afternoon. A watch was definitely on his things-needed list, along with a toothbrush and a mirror. He realized he did not actually even know what he looked like. He rang the nurses’ call button and was pleasantly surprised to see both Sara and Cindy come through the door.

"What are the ordinary patients doing while all the beautiful women are in my room?" Jake asked.

Sara laughed and Cindy turned beet red. "I brought Cindy along so you could thank her personally," said Sara "What can we do for you?"

"Thank you very much, Cindy, for your care and concern," said Jake.

Cindy nodded and squeaked, "You’re welcome".

Then he told them the items he needed. Still blushing furiously, Cindy went for a Sunday paper. Sara went to find him a personal hygiene kit and a mirror. Cindy arrived first with the paper and, head down, darted out the door. Sara came in with a hospital bag with men’s comfort supplies and an eighteen-inch square mirror. I know why you would want a comb and toothbrush but what is the mirror for?" she asked.

"I want to know what I look like," Jake stated.

Silently Sara held up the mirror. Jake was shocked at what he saw. Staring back at him was a masculine version of his mother. He had the same jet-black hair and blue eyes but with a strong jaw and manly nose. Even though he did not like the long hair, he had to admit that he had definitely traded up in the looks department. Jake brushed his teeth and drank more water. He asked Sara for a basin to wash in and was pleasantly surprised when she told him that she would give him a sponge bath after supper when things settled down. She went on to inform him his request for solid food had been approved. Jake let his head fall back on the pillow.

"Things are looking up," he said to himself.

Jake avidly read the paper. It was the Orlando paper so he was still in central Florida but where? The hospital’s name ‘Palms General’ was unfamiliar. Another question to add to his growing list. Jake combed the news trying to recall the events of the period into which he had been thrust. During his first passage through 1971, he was also a patient: he was in a series of military hospitals recovering from multiple gunshot wounds of the AK-47 variety. Then it clicked; no wonder he so quickly zeroed in on the dated equipment in his room. In June and July 1971, he was in an almost identical room in Womack Army Hospital at Ft. Bragg. It was, as Yogi Berra once said, "Déjà vu all over again."

Cindy interrupted Jake’s musing with his supper. Cindy was a real beauty; five and a half feet tall, she had long straight blonde hair and twinkling blue eyes. Jake determined that most of her five feet, six inches were legs; she had medium sized breasts that rode up high and a nice little butt that looked like it would fit in one of his hands. Jake wondered why she was so shy around him. Jake decided to tease her and took her hand when she sat the tray on his hospital table.

"Are you sure you can’t join me for dinner?" he asked, "I’m pretty sure I haven’t been out with a pretty girl in at least two weeks."

Cindy glowed cherry red and stammered, "I…I’ve got to deliver everyone their meals". Then out the door she flew.

Jake chuckled and attacked his tray with gusto. He was too hungry to care about the bland fare. He was pleased when Cindy returned and sat in the chair by his bed. Jake subtly drew her into conversation. He found out that she was the only child of older parents and attended Catholic school. The volunteer work was a school requirement. As she became more at ease with him, Cindy lost some of her reticence and Jake found her infectious smile adorable. All too soon, Cindy departed to pick up trays with a promise to visit him after school tomorrow. His dick lurched as an image of her tight little body in a school uniform flashed before his eyes.

Jake watched television for a while marveling that he was watching an episode of Gilligan’s Island for the third time, twice in 1971 and the other just last year on "Nick at Night". He was broken out of his reverie by Sara’s entrance. She carried a basin, a hospital pack of soap, and a washcloth. As she bustled about preparing for his bath, Jake looked her over closely; about five-foot five, she was full-figured but not fat. Her breasts thrust out formidably. She wore a starched white cotton uniform, white stockings, and white no-nonsense shoes. Her brown hair was in a bun, on which a nurse’s cap perched jauntily. She looked like a nurse recruiting poster. Jake was mildly disappointed to see a wedding ring on her finger.

With practiced ease, he also drew Sara into conversation; she did not seem to notice that Jake got her to open up about herself. He learned that she was twenty-six, divorced from a real asshole, and had a four-year-old son.

Preparations completed, Sara soaped up the cloth and bathed Jake’s face, arms and chest. Looking down Jake decided he needed to do some work on his new body; he was not fat, but he was soft and had no muscle definition. All thoughts of exercise flew out the window when Sara began washing his lower stomach. His dick stiffened and tented the sheet. "Ah, youth," thought Jake; he was instantly hard enough to cut glass. Sara hit his erection with her elbow and with a gasp turned her head.

Jake chuckled, "Thank God; it still works".

Sara burst into a fit of giggles. She continued his bath pulling the covers down and washing his legs. Although she avoided bumping his cock again she kept glancing at it. Hmm, Jake thought lets see if I can really embarrass her.

"Don’t you nurses have a trick to deflate one of those things?" he asked.

Sara gave him an odd look; nervously glanced at the door then slid her hand under his hospital gown. Jake was agog, he thought she would brush his comment off or thump his hardon to deflate it. Instead, she made eye contact with him as her soapy fingers closed around his pulsating shaft. Sara began slowly stoking his turgid rod; she increased her speed as she saw his excitement increase. Jay reached out and cupped one of her full breasts as, with a grunt, his hips lunged up and he spewed what felt like a gallon of cum into his gown. Sara giggled again, completed his bath, and got him a new robe.

After a thoroughly clean and satisfied Jake was propped up his pillow, Sara said, "I’ve never done that before".

Jake laughed and asked, "Then how did you have a baby".

She punched him on the arm and clarified, "I mean with a patient."

Jake looked at Sara and said, "I can’t remember ever doing that with anyone, including myself. I mean, I know all about it but I can’t remember how I know. So you took my virginity; now you have to do the honorable thing and marry me."

Sara gave Jake a kiss and asked, "Do you think your mom will give you permission?"

Both of them cracked up. After another kiss and some groping, Sara told Jake good night. He fell into a contented sleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

Monday morning doctors’ rounds were a circus. Most of the staff doctors had heard of Jake’s miraculous recovery and wanted to see him for themselves. Jake felt like the prize steer at the county fair. Dr. Malone had Jake try to stand up and when Jake actually walked around the room, there was bedlam. Jake asked when he could be released and was told tomorrow if the EEG went well. He couldn’t understand why everyone was so excited until he overheard one doctor tell an intern that Jake was the first case of a person brain damaged from glue sniffing he had ever know to recover. Glue sniffing! "What had been the matter with this kid?" thought Jake, "He seemed to have had everything, only to thrown it all away."

The gaggle of doctors and want-to-be’s finally left. After breakfast, his mother came breezing in. She kissed his cheek, grabbed his hand, and sat down next to the bed. She held his eyes with hers.

"We have some talking to do," she said.

Damn, thought Jake, beautiful, tough and smart; his dad must be quite a guy. "Mom, I’m sorry I put you all through this, but believe me when I tell you that I’m a changed man." (If you only knew how much, he added silently)

His mother smiled at the man bit and responded, "I hope so, you have been most unpleasant to live with the last six months. And I’m afraid it will take more than a speech to patch things up with you sisters."

Jake nodded his understanding, now he knew why they were leery of him. His mother started talking about their family in the hope of bringing back more of his memory. Then she started on friends, school, and -- of course -- girls. Almost every story ended with him having offended, hurt, or been rude to other people; he was deeply shamed when she finished.

"I guess I’ve got a lot of fences to mend," Jake mumbled.

Jake and his mom strolled around the hospital and, although he tired easily, he was pleased he had no trouble with his motor skills. He was going to enjoy getting his new body into shape.

About four, Cindy bounced into his room; she was indeed a wet dream in her school uniform: knee length plaid wrap skirt held together with a large decorative brass safety pin, crisp white cotton shirt, white knee socks, and saddle shoes. Jake vowed that his next wife would have one of those outfits, and wear it for him at least once a week. Her legs looked shapely and her breasts filled out her shirt nicely. Had she worn her hair in pigtails she would have looked like a well developed twelve-year old. When Jake introduced her to his mom as his angel of mercy the blushing thing started again. He caused her to get even redder when he told her how nice she looked. Jake’s mom left for home to start supper, she winked at Jake as she told Cindy how nice it was to meet her and how she hoped to see her again soon. Sara dropped by to say hello as Cindy was leaving to change into her Candy Stripe uniform.

Cindy brought him his supper last and stayed with him while he ate. She was downcast when Jake told her he was being discharged tomorrow, but brightened when he asked for her phone number. She shyly kissed his cheek when she left and said she hoped he would call.

At nine-thirty, Sara brought in a basin for his bath. Jake smiled to himself because he knew she was aware of his release from bed rest. This could be interesting, he thought. Sara had a blue cardigan sweater over her uniform. After she set up his bath, she pulled off the sweater.

"Wouldn’t want to get this wet," she said sweetly.

Jake immediately noticed she was braless and his weasel sprang to attention like a private on payday.

"No we would not," he agreed solemnly.

Sara took her time bathing him; her touch was gentle and sensual. When she reached the bottom of his gown and began washing his upper thighs Jake reached down and popped open the top three buttons of her uniform. Her creamy breasts pushed apart the fabric and Jake feasted his eyes on her cleavage Sara’s skin was smooth and creamy and scented with bath powder. As her hand grasped his erection, Jake reached into her top and cupped her breast. They groaned in unison. Jake toyed with her nipple, watching her face as he squeezed it to gauge how hard she liked it. He reach up with his other hand sliding his fingers into her thick brown hair and pulled her face towards his. She licked her lips and, as their mouths fused, she shot her tongue into his mouth. Jake kept his fingers twined in her hair and returned her kiss.

Sara pulled her head back and looked at him with slightly glazed, quizzical eyes. "Where did you learn to kiss like that?" she asked.

I wish I knew; I’m just acting instinctively," he answered, " Did I do it right? Do you like it?"

Jake was getting into this acting fifteen shit!

"Oh yeah, I liked it a lot; do it again," Sara said.

Jake complied; pulling her face back to his, he gave her his best effort while increasing the pressure of his fingers on the base of her nipple. Sara moaned when they came up for air. "Someone has taught you well; I have never been kissed like that."

Jake smiled and pulled her face toward his again.

They made out some more; Sara softly held his dick as Jake played with her breast and nibbled her neck and ears. As their arousal mounted, Jake upped the ante and started pushing her head toward his crotch. She resisted only slightly and allowed him to move her toward his dick. She lifted his gown above his waist; at the sight of his engorged cock, moaned, and took his pulsating shaft into her mouth. Jake could tell she didn’t have a lot of experience at this but her enthusiasm made her exceptionally good. He released her big warm nipple and moved his hand to caress her ass. Her generous butt was firm but he didn’t linger on it. His hand continued downward to the hem of her uniform then back up under it. Softly up the back of her thighs and - eureka - thigh high stockings, not pantyhose! His next wife was getting an outfit like this and wearing it for him once a week.

Sara’s head snapped up when he touched her mound thru her panties but she lowered her lips back to Mr. Happy when he started to softly caress her pussy. "Uhmmm," she moaned around his dick. Jake wormed his finger under her pant leg and parted her abundant hair with his fingertip; she was wet, hot, and responsive. He played with her labia and slowly circled his finger into her steaming tunnel. Sara moaned some more and spread her legs as far as her skirt would allow. Jake withdrew his finger and sought out her clit, which was small and barely peeking out of its hood. He had to really concentrate to find it but the way Sara jerked when he touched it made the effort worthwhile. As Jake settled into a fast, rubbing motion, her head came up and she looked at him wild-eyed.

Jake quickly changed his grip; turning over his hand, he hooked his middle finger into her gushing tunnel to find her g-spot at the same time as he switched to using his thumb to stimulate her clit. He knew when he got it right because Sara leaned forward and grabbed his shoulder with her teeth to muffle her scream. She shook and gnawed for at least thirty seconds, then fell across his body onto the bed.

After her orgasm, Sara went back to his dick with a vengeance. Jake was mildly disappointed when she jerked him off into his gown instead of swallowing his cum. After she finished him off she wrapped her arms around his neck and cooed, "You are only the second person to make me cum…I was the first."

Sara got them both cleaned up and, after giving Jake a kiss and her phone number, departed his room. Jake vowed that their next meeting would involve pussy shaving and cum swallowing, then he fell into a restful sleep.