Mistaen Identity

Part One: Young and Impetuous Krissi

It happens to all of us—we see that person at the store who looks just like an old friend, teammate, or lost chance at love. As we get older, it seems less important to bother approaching them to ask if they are who we think. It's just easier to let go of the past.

But we are impetuous in youth. We are sure of ourselves, and our immediate future is a matter of urgency. We take risks, not even seeing them as such. That recklessness leads us to live up to the old clichés like learning from experience.

Many of us fear the past may come back to haunt us, but once in a great while the chips fall in our favor. The past simmers and stews for years, waiting for the spark of revelation that changes us forever—just hope it's for the better.

My revelation stemmed from a traumatic incident. It started on the first day of middle school when a buffoon twice my size named Jimmy Gibson mistook me for some guy named Tommy Halverson. I remember it sounding something like, "I'm...

thump

...not...

smack

...Halverson!" It wasn't pretty. In fact it was embarrassing. It got so bad the kids gathered around us all begged him to stop. Even Tommy Halverson showed up to advocate for me.

Jimmie Gibson didn't seem to care much. He was a goon with itchy fists he wanted to scratch. I took a sound beating that day, but I always knew that the scales would someday balance. Twenty-five years later, Jimmie was convicted of armed robbery and sent to prison. Tommy Halverson had gone on to be a talent scout for reality television shows. My reward was coming. It just needed to simmer for about three decades.

It happened just after my "bio-dad" passed away. We weren't that close, but I was his only kid, so his nest egg and accumulation of toys were mine to do with as I saw fit. Once the will cleared the probate system, the lawyer handed me the keys to his weekend cabin. It was nestled in a wooded lot on the shores of, oddly enough, Karma Lake.

I wasn't the woodsy type. My intention was to spend a few days sizing the place up—maybe keep a few things of value and sell the property to someone who would appreciate it. It was a little after noon when I rumbled down the long dirt driveway in my old truck. The place was as I imagined—a quaint little cabin hidden in a disheveled mess. Rather than go right inside, I kicked around the cluttered yard looking through bits and pieces of my old man's life.

Making my way around back, I caught a breathtaking view of the mountains surrounding Karma Lake. Gazing over the water, I realized what my dad must have seen in the little place. But my attention was drawn to a playful squeal and a splash. As I walked forty feet or so toward the shore, the hedges to the right gave way to a view of the plush green lawn of the property next door, where a modern chalet with mirrored windows and a wrap-around deck overlooked the lake.

But the most delightful sight was knee-deep in the mountain lake water. Two young beauties, a golden blonde and a jet-black brunette, stood in bikinis no more concealing than band aids and dental floss. From fifty feet or so away, I could only guess their ages, but the University of Maine sweatshirt on the clothesline put them at college age in my estimation.

The blonde stood only about five-foot two—a fit, solid specimen with firm curves and cambers. Her tanned skin glistened against her yellow bikini, enhancing the cut shape of her arms, thighs and torso. The jewel in her tummy shimmered in the midday sun as she squeaked, "The water's freezing!"

"It's always cold until August," replied the brunette—a taller, thin beauty with lanky legs and a thigh gap wide enough to throw a baseball through. As thin as she was, there was something about the way her nimble frame filled her turquoise bottoms. Her hips, tummy and round ass cheeks were fashioned to a cock-stiffening eyedropper appeal. She had tiny breasts, but it somehow didn't detract from her nubile beauty.

Don't get me wrong—I did well by women in my hay day, but a brutal divorce had left me reeling, and a few extra pounds had caught up to me as well. In my early forties I lacked the confidence to just step out and start chatting, so I stood gawking like a dork through the hedges as they splashed each other and rubbed water over their youthful skin.

My cover was blown when the brunette arched back and raised her elbows to untie her pony tail. As her lean body bent, the tiny curves defining her tummy accentuated, and the shape of her pubis stamped through the front of her bikini. I let out a sound like an opera singer being punched in the gut. It didn't go unnoticed. Both their heads turned as I made an idiot of myself by pretending to inspect the leaves of the hedges. The blonde offered a quick wave, but said nothing. She leaned toward the brunette, speaking in a hush tone.

I felt my cheeks going blush as they murmured back and forth. Unable to muster two words to string together, I turned and made cowardly haste for the cabin. As low as their voices were, I could hear emphasis in their words. Peeking over my shoulder, I saw they were still staring as I made my way up the back steps. "Mako!" one of them called—I wasn't sure which one.

"Great," I complained, fumbling through my keys. "They have a goofball nickname for me already."

Their tone sounded argumentative as they made their way onto the lawn and began dressing. Once inside, I headed straight to the window, unable to shed the thought that a protective father would be knocking on the door any moment to accuse me of peeping.

But I couldn't stop looking. The blonde pulled up a pair of cutoff jean shorts as the brunette pulled a stretched t-shirt over her long torso. Oddly enough, their heads kept turning toward the back yard as they spoke and waved their arms. The brunette pointed to the bare spot in the bushes as she kicked into flip-flops and flung a towel around her neck. I shook my head and tried to turn my attention back to what I came for—surveying the cabin.

Just before dark, I decided to sit on the back deck and watch the sun set over Karma Lake. As I unfolded a plastic chair and checked it for stability, I heard footsteps on the deck stairs behind me. A gasp escaped me as I turned to see the nubile blonde standing in a skimpy blue top and the denim shorts I saw her putting on a few hours previous. Her long hair hung straight behind her shoulders, framing her blowtorch blue eyes.

I was relieved to see she wasn't accompanied by a seven-foot good ol' boy pounding his fist into his palm, but I still figured she was there to bawl me out. "Hi," I offered. "I uh, didn't mean to—"

"It's alright!" she replied in a cheery whisper. "My name's Krissi. I know who you are."

"Y-You do? I-I mean—"

"It's the perfect cover!" she squeaked, bouncing on her bare toes. "Staying at Ol'Man Shepard's place while you cool off. I promise to keep it secret...except from my friend Victoria. She saw you too. I was next door at her house earlier. We were in the water and—"

"Wait! I-I'm afraid you're—"

"You think I'm too young...but I'm not! I'm eighteen, and I'm like...a may-jor fan. So is Victoria, but she doesn't think you're you. I mean...she doesn't believe you're Mako."

"But you do?"

A cunning grin arced across her glossy lips. "I saw the computer model of what you'd look like without makeup," she replied in a playful tone.

"Where?"

"On the Slag Shark website, silly. Ever since you and Hammerhead had that big fight on stage, everyone's been trying to find where you went. You were right. He was changing keys and screwing you up." Grabbing the hem of my t-shirt, she lifted it. "You were smart not to get any tattoos," she acknowledged, tapping my tummy. "So you could always blend in with average guys." She suddenly looked stunned. "Omigawd!" she blurted. "I touched you...do you mind?"

"N-no," I squeaked like prepubescent boy, pushing my shirt back down.

Her blue eyes sparkled with tantalizing promise as she swayed side to side. "Mind if I sit with you?" she asked, tilting her head. "I know you're older than me...but I've followed you since I was, like...sixteen."

Looking up the driveway, then side to side, I fumbled, "Do...do your p-parents know you're here?"

"I told you, I turned eighteen like, a month ago."

"That's not what I asked...tried to ask, anyway."

"It's okay," she insisted. "Please, can I sit?"

"Uh, sure," I droned in bewilderment, grabbing another chair.

Krissi giggled as she plopped into it. "You really clean up well...you look like a regular dude...maybe a little older. I almost agreed with Victoria cuz you put on a few pounds, but when I got home, I took another look at the website. That cinched it for me."

"So, I fooled her, but not you"

"It's okay!" she peeped. "This is the perfect cover. You should come here whenever you need time off from the band. I can go to the store for you...well, except the liquor store. But I can keep you company! You're not back on drugs are you?"

"Uh, no," I replied, staring at the jewel adorning her bare midriff. I took in a breath and gulped. "Just uh, get comfortable," I squawked in my middle school voice. "I'll be right back."

Scurrying into the cabin, I set my laptop on the kitchen counter and typed

Mako and the Slag Sharks

in the search engine. Grabbing a bottle of water, I took a sip as the link loaded, but I never got to swallow it. I spit it all over the keyboard as two pictures of Mako Brahm popped onto my screen. On the left, he was a dreadful mess of unruly hair and eye shadow with a devilish goatee. On the right, he was a clean-shaven dead ringer for me, or I for him—either of us for good ol' Tommy Halverson for that matter.

My knees trembled as my pulse pounded in my ears and neck. I closed the laptop and trudged back through the cabin, wondering how to explain her mistake. But I was having trouble inhaling, never mind trying to explain such a coincidence. I gave up trying when my gaze fell on a lacy blue bra slung over the deck rail, next to her tiny blue top. Krissi's perky, tan-lined globes barely bounced as she hopped into the doorway. "Gonna let me in?" she asked in a peep.

I said nothing as I stepped aside. My throat had clamped so tight that whatever stupid comment I thought of would have sounded like a frog croaking.

"I need to show you something," she purred, digging in the pocket of her jeans. "I started on these for my boyfriend's birthday," she explained as she pulled out a pill case and opened the cover. "But his birthday isn't for another week." A playful sparkle shone in her eye as she strutted up close and grasped the hem of my t-shirt. "Know what that means?" she asked in a sexy whisper as she tugged.

I held my arms up as she pulled the shirt over my head and tossed it aside. "Th-The poor bastard's been wearing a condom?" I asked, finding my voice.

"Mm-hmm," she hummed, scratching my sides with her fingernails. "No one's ever touched my insides with the skin of their cock...or come in me before. You'll be the first."

My crotch grew crowded and shivers ran through me as she tossed her arms over my shoulders and pressed her nipples against my ribs. My hands grasped her waistline as her blue eyes peered into mine. I thought for a moment she had noticed her mistake, but she tucked her thumbs in the waistband of her shorts and giggled as she dropped them. Kicking them aside, she bumped against me, lifted onto her toes, and pressed her lips to mine. I squeezed her firm buttocks as our tongues danced and she tugged at the front of my jeans to free my raging cock.

It sprang up straight and stiff as a board as I kicked out of my pants. Never before had it stood so tall and proud—so chiseled with vein lines and frankly, so damn big. Krissi's eyes grew round with surprise as it aimed directly at her navel jewel—its skin stretched to an uncomfortable tightness. She stepped forward, pressing it between us.

A full five inches taller than her, I peered down into her eyes as if giving her one last chance to realize I wasn't who she thought I was. With her eyes twitching side to side she whispered, "Take me, Mako. I want to watch your face as you fill me with your satisfaction."

There was no going back—no explaining to do. I grasped her by the tan-lined ass and pulled the heat of her dewdrop pelvis tight against me. Her navel jewel lent a tickling scratch to my throbbing bulb as I kissed her—my rock-hard shaft pounding between us as we lashed tongues.

I let out a low groan as she dropped to her knees and sat back on her heels. My engorged turret pointed at her forehead like a loaded weapon, but she stared it down, grasping it tight in her little fingers. Gently stroking, she aimed my beating knob at her glossy smile and lunged forward. I moaned aloud as moist warmth enveloped half my length.

My stunned gaze fixed on her lips, wrapped tight around my girth as she bobbed back and forth. Drawing back almost to the rim of my crown, she peered up at me and flicked her tongue back and forth over the base of my knob. Her round cheeks dimpled in as she nodded forth and sucked. Pulling back, she popped me out and stroked my rock-hard length. "Did I find something you like?" she asked in a playful tone.

"Uh-huh," I grunted, rocking my pelvis forward.

Krissi giggled and lunged again. Her golden hair waved back and forth as her lips glided over the vein lines mapping the length of my meaty tool. Cupping my balls in her warm palm, she pressed my pole against my belly and licked from bottom to top. "Your cock feels like a warm steel pipe," she purred, fixing her gaze on the hardy head. "I can only imagine how many girls it's been inside."

"You'd be surprised," I quipped, scooping her up.

She squealed as I lifted her off the floor and cradled her like a young bride. I carried her into the bedroom and set her on the bed, then climbed up from the foot as she spread her legs. The delightful aroma of her welcoming juices tickled my nose as I reached around and grasped the crests of her hips. She rested the backs of her thighs on my shoulders and cooed, digging her heels into the small of my back.

With a playful giggle, she squeezed her legs together, pressing the soft, warm skin of her inner thighs against my cheeks. I took the opportunity to rub my nose and upper lip in the scratch of her golden crown. Krissi cooed and spread wide, presenting the blushing pink crevice of her entrance to ecstasy. "Taste me, Mako," she pleaded. "Taste my juices."

She reached down and spread the gates of her slit with two fingers. The sight of her undulating inner tissues damn near stopped my heart. Slipping my hands under her buttocks, I tipped her pelvis and lapped the length of her juicy crevice. She wiggled her thighs and squealed as I dashed her clitoris. With a hardy hum, I pressed my mouth over her precious opening and treated my taste buds to the nectar of her youthful honey pot. Lost somewhere between the ethereal realm and lucid ecstasy, I flicked and wiggled deep into her inner architecture. "Hungh!" she wailed in wanton abandon. "Ma-ko is ee-ating me! He's ee-ating me!"

Her squeals made my effort all the more delightful. Estrogen-laden lusciousness coated my cheeks and chin as I dug into her with decadent fervency. Seeing her pelvis contract, I pulled back and flicked her clit, periodically wiggling my tongue into her flowing love channel for a slurp of her fruit.

She gasped and contorted, arching her back and twisting at the waist. It caught me by surprise, but the stunned look in her eyes made it clear she was about to have a colossal event. I lifted her buttocks and lashed her gush button with my tongue as she let out a gurgling coo and bucked her hips. The skin between her slit and anus pulsated as she sprayed my neck and chest with thankful reward. With a squeal of abandon, she dropped her buttocks to the mattress and spread wide. A second gush washed my chin as I dug back in to taste her flowing juices.

Dripping with her delicious gratitude, I rose to my knees. Krissi moaned and scampered onto all fours, then curved her back and splashed the bed with another burst. "Get inside me!" she begged—her slit still dripping onto the sheets as she rolled her pelvis.

A drip of pre-cum glistened at my tip as I rested my cock between her buns like a hotdog in a roll. I grasped her tiny waist and pulled my hips back, letting my heavy shaft fall into her waiting palm. I took in a quick breath as she planted my head in the bathing warmth of her oozing clasp. As tight as she was, her inners were so slippery I buried my engorged meat in a single thrust to absolute elation. With my belly pressed against her firm buttocks, I stuck out my elbows, curved my back forward like a man half my age, and began a steady stroke that bumped her forward with each thrust.

The tight wrap of her living sheath purged a puff of air from time to time as I reamed her. It was surreal—carnal perfection offered to a divorced schmuck under the roof of an old shack on the shore of a lake. It occurred to me that Krissi would sooner or later figure out the truth. But for then, I would enjoy her pleas for insemination.

As if reading that thought, she rolled on her back and spread wide moaning, "Come in me now!"

I replanted my bulb and broke into rhythm, surveying her lean, solid body. Lifting her shoulders off the mattress, she grabbed my upper arms and pulled. "Stop showing off," she urged. "Hug me and kiss me! Look in my eyes as you make me your own!"

Dropping to my elbows, I slipped my palms beneath her shoulders and modified my stroke to keep our tummies together. She spread like a cheerleader on game night—legs out straight and toes pointed. Her nipples poked my chest as I hugged tighter and kissed the nape of her neck. With an inviting coo, she tipped her pelvis, pressing the soft warmth of her inner thighs against my loins. Wrapped tight in the oozing welcome of her velvet vault, I stopped to surrender to the pangs of ecstasy.

She pressed her lips to mine and squealed into my mouth—her love passage tight as shrink wrap around my buried cock. Feminine cum dripped from my sac as she grasped my buttocks with her dainty palms. Brushing her lips to mine she pleaded, "Come in me now."

The air grew thick around us a low hum permeated my consciousness. I felt as if I was melting onto her as my body concentrated the whole of its energy to the amalgamation of our beings. It was all I could do to squeeze my butt cheeks together and gain a precious half inch into the glory of her vessel. I felt her teeth scrape my chin as a tingling euphoria overtook me. "Look in my eyes!" she begged, digging her heels into the backs of my thighs.

I complied—peering right through the hot blue of her irises and into the points of her pupils—the windows of her churning thoughts. Something amid the carnal chaos in her epicenter told me that whether or not I was Mako Brahm no longer mattered. Still, I said nothing just in case I was wrong.

She raised her golden brows as we both took a deep breath, waiting for nirvana to overtake us. An all-encompassing wave of bliss washed over me as my hilt began to pulse inside her slick love passage. The pangs tingling in my balls spread up to my base and built to glorious fruition. I cried out as my cock thumped in the squeeze of her oozing clench and sprayed an opening volley into her heavenly hollow. Her eyes widened as succession of seed-laden salvoes followed, fulfilling our mutual desire in jet after heaving jet of prolific gratification.

Krissi wrapped her calves around my backside—her moan oscillating to the rhythm of my spurts. Sliding my hand down her backside, I lifted her buttocks to better inseminate her pelvic garden with the will of my ancestry. My thighs trembled as she rolled her hips to pack my produce deeper into her chamber.