Fucking with Time

It happened when I was on the tube on the way back from a dinner one Saturday evening. I was leaning with my shoulder against the glass divider and unabashedly inspecting the cleavage of the brunette sitting opposite, whose low-cut, clingy dress left little to the imagination.

At the same time I was pointedly ignoring the disapproving glares coming from the old lady beside her. However, this was England. The old lady would rather have jumped with silent dignity off a cliff than have the mortifying conversation necessary to alert the young woman to my ogling.

As I watched, the young woman shifted slightly in her seat and folded her arms, causing her breasts to swell as they were pushed together and making her cleavage that much more enticing. I saw her long eyelashes flicker - had she noticed my gaze?

She was really something special, I thought, contemplating her sensual, half open lips. I would have to get her number. As I wondered what the best way was to make contact might be, there was a deep explosion somewhere ahead, and the train crashed.

At least, I assume that's what happened. I was luckily already leaning on the glass divider, but the force of the crash threw me off my feet and my cheek hit the glass hard. The passengers who had been sitting down weren't so lucky; they had been thrown into each other, onto the floor and into the walls and windows of the train. They slowly righted themselves from the dismal pile they had fallen into on the floor.

A businessman in his 30s was the first to his feet, brushing himself down and looking around in the dim light that was coming through the windows from the tunnel lighting (the lights onboard the train had gone out in the crash).

"What was that?" he asked in a voice that he was clearly trying to keep as casual as possible, though his pale face and wide eyes betrayed his actual anxiety.

"Haven't a clue," I said, getting to my feet. The young brunette pulled herself up onto the seat, her eyes open and earphones out.

"Sounded like some kind of explosion. I hope it's nothing serious," she said, trying to see through the windows what had happened.

"Terrorists, fucking terrorists, attacking us in our own country!" The old woman told us angrily, all inhibitions swept away by fear and anger. "It's lucky we're not all dead!"

It went on like this for a few minutes while we waited for someone to come and tell us what to do. However, no one came. "Someone should go and see what's going on!" pronounced the old woman, after we'd sat there for about 15 minutes. No one had so much as come into sight, although some ominously loud creaking sounds had come from further up the tunnel. "They might want us to walk back to the station."

She looked pointedly at me. I had been growing sick of her exclamations about the sorry state of the country, so I was in fact quite happy to oblige. Besides, I'd always wanted to use the emergency lever to open the train doors.

I looked back at them briefly as I stepped out of into the tunnel, and was gratified to see an anxious look on the face of the brunette as she watched me go. I wondered fleetingly why I was still thinking about that when there were clearly more pressing matters at hand.

Though carelessly braving danger is all very well in theory, when I realised I was alone in the coal black tunnel, I began regretting my decision. The train at least was familiar, enclosed, safe.

Out here everything was dirty, dark, unknown. The only sound came from the flickering lights, which buzzed and crackled intermittently. There was no going back now, however, and I pressed on, walking along beside the silent train in the direction of the front.

Strangely, after I got past our carriage, I found no one else in any of the other carriages. I reasoned that the other passengers must have been less patient, and had already found a way out.

I found a large side-tunnel leading off the train track that was presumably a way out, but no one answered when I shouted down it. I was about to move on when I spotted something glittering a few feet down the tunnel. I examined it, and discovered a strange, spade-shaped silver pedant, attached to a chain. I picked it up, thinking that it must belong to someone involved in the train crash.

I'd just slipped it in my pocket when I heard someone coming towards me from the front of the train. I looked up and saw a man walking briskly down the tunnel from the front of the train, which was still out of sight round the bend of the tunnel.

"What's going on?" I called out to the man as he approached. As he got closer I saw that he was perhaps 35 or 40 and wearing a strange suit with a bow tie. His confident stride and content, almost jovial expression jarred oddly with the situation we were in.

"Don't worry, I've sorted it all out, it's fine." he said, not breaking his stride as he walked past me and turned down the side-tunnel I'd just been shouting down.

"What d'you mean you've sorted it out??" I asked irritably, following after him. "What have you sorted out? Who are you?"

"I'm the Doctor," he told me, continuing down the dark tunnel. What kind of answer was that, I wondered. Was he some Sci-fi geek, or vigilante do-gooder?

"The Doctor, as in... Doctor Who?" I ventured tentatively. I hoped fervently he wasn't a deranged murderer. The question seemed to irritate him, but he didn't slow down.

"Yes," he said curtly. "Fucking BBC. Blew my cover for a whole 4 centuries here on Earth" He came to a halt and reached into his pocket.

Then I realised what we were standing in front of. I hadn't seen in the dark, but it was the TARDIS, exactly like the one on the TV show of Dr Who that I used to watch on BBC 1; the big blue police box that was in fact a physics-defying time-traveling capsule. There it was, shabby and inconspicuous as ever, and standing a few feet away from me.

My assessment of the situation promptly changed. This whole thing was a hoax, a "You've-been-framed" style trick that was being played on me, for reasons utterly unknown.

I smirked at the Doctor, showing him I knew what was going on. He seemed concerned with other things though, as he rapidly rifled through his pockets, of which he had a great number, his face drawn and anxious.

"You're fucking joking," he said eventually. "Lost the fucking key. You haven't seen a little silver thing anywhere along the tunnel have you?"

So that's what the game was. Might as well go along with it, I thought.

"Oh no, no idea what you're talking about," I told him with enough marked sarcasm to let the hidden cameras know that I was in on the joke. "Maybe you dropped it when you were sorting out whatever it was that needed sorting out."

"Must've done," he agreed. "What a joke." And he jogged back in the direction we'd come from, leaving me standing there by the TARDIS.

I took out what I knew must be the supposedly missing key, and went over to examine the door. Sure enough, there was a small lock the shape of the gadget I was holding, and when I pressed the key into the lock, the door clicked open.

Very smooth, I thought, though I wondered what the point of it all could be. I pushed the door open and stepped inside. And stared.

The inside was genuinely bigger than the outside. Just like it was meant to be. Except... this was real life. I went outside again to check that it wasn't a trick, walking once around the outside of the small box.

There was no hidden room behind it, there was nothing that could explain what I had just seen. The only explanation was that it wasn't a trick; it was the real thing. I went back inside. If seeing the considerable expanse of the inside of the TARDIS again wasn't enough to convince me, then the way that the machinery around me was firing up was.

I stood for several seconds, completely stunned, and then leapt into action. I slammed the door behind me, making sure it was properly shut, and went over to the control panel. Could I operate this thing?

It seemed to be asking me where I wanted to go. There were a number of boxes that needed to be filled, such a galactical coordinates, time, date, and year (measured in something called TPX). It was all rather complicated and didn't seem to use any measures of time that I was familiar with.

I breathed a sigh of relief therefore, when I saw a touch sensitive button marked "Recent Destinations". A cautious poke at it revealed a short list of where the Doctor had apparently recently been.

Three were in various alien languages, and at times which I could make no sense of. Another was in Tennessee, some time during the American Civil War judging by the picture that was displayed. The final entry said simply "The Garden of Eden" with a small picture of a clearing in a forest. The date again was in a format unknown to me.

I didn't hesitate. I needed to go somewhere just for now in case the Doctor returned sooner than I'd reckoned with. I stabbed the button for Garden of Eden and awaited results.

With that familiar whirring sound that I'd heard so many times on television, the TARDIS began to vibrate powerfully. I held on to one of the rails on the control panel and waited anxiously. After less than a minute, it settled again.

I opened the door. I was still in a state of denial about the whole thing, but this dispelled all doubt I still had. I stepped out into a lush forest, full of a variety of trees and bushes. I stood goggle-eyed for a few seconds while my mind tried to comprehend this. Then I closed the door of the TARDIS and walked into the forest.

I soon reached a lake, surrounded on all sides by the forest, in which a man was bathing. At this point I had stopped wondering how this could be possible, deciding instead to just accept everything as real from now on. The man was, of course, naked, with no clothes in sight.

As I approached him he looked up in surprise and came out of the water. I forced all my confusion and bewilderment out of my head and allowed my habitual confidence to take over again.

"Good morning" I called in a friendly voice. "I suppose you must be Adam."

"Indeed," he said. "And who are you?"

"I'm... Mark" I decided. "The err.. second man that God made."

Adam seemed to accept this without query, and after a short pause he responded.

"Do you remember much about it - being made?."

What was I supposed I say to that?

"Um, it's all still a bit fuzzy in my memory," I told him. "What about you?"

"Well, the main thing I remember is God's voice in my head, telling me that he'd made me, and how I-- Good God, what's that?" He broke off, staring past me to the other side of the lake. I turned around and was, for the third or fourth time today, stunned.

"That", was what could only be Eve, mother of all. If God really had created that, he'd done an exceptional job. The apparition making it's way around the edge of the large lake blew me away with its beauty.

Eve was just as naked as Adam, and her wavy blonde hair fell delightfully down to her waist. I felt an urge to look away, as if my gaze was somehow corrupting something pure. Eve's face was still too distant to make out clearly, but her body had me utterly captivated; there was no way I was going to look away from that.

She was petite and perfectly proportioned, but my eyes were drawn immediately to what were frankly divine breasts. Framed by the golden hair, which fell on either side of them, they were full and round, about the size of grapefruits, I estimated from a distance. They stood out proudly from her chest, beautifully pert, and came to points in dainty pink nipples.

I felt my cock twitch in my jeans.

Her legs were also exquisite, long and elegant with that tight, toned look that inspires women to take out gym memberships. I contemplated the small triangle of dark blonde hair between her thighs and my cock twitched again as various pleasurable thoughts flashed through my mind.

Considering that she was apparently fresh off the production line, Eve looked remarkably tanned. She was an even light brown all over her beautiful body - but then how could she not have an even tan? You can't have tan lines without clothes.

While I had been gazing spellbound at the approaching Eve, who was still relatively far away, Adam had been growing distressed.

"I don't know what it is, but it makes me feel... strange," he told me. "I'm not sure what this feeling is."

I noticed he had a raging erection, and pointed it out to him. This unsettled him further, and as his confusion rose, a plan came into my head.

"That's a sign of lust," I told him. "That's what you're feeling, I expect. It's a sin though."

"Lust? It's one of the deadly sins!. I don't want to sin. How can I stop doing it?" He sounded genuinely afraid, and for a moment I regretted my ruse. A quick glance back at Eve though, and I was once again firmly resolved.

"It's because you're looking at her that you feel it," I told the anxious Adam. "You need to go away from her until you can control it. Go now, you don't want to sin more than you need to. Just sit at home and try and control what you think about until you have it conquered. Don't worry about her, I'll distract her for you. She doesn't affect me in the same way, you see."

I indicated my crotch area, where my trusty jeans were tightly suppressing my growing semi.

"Yes, I'd better go. Yes." Adam said to himself, looking aghast at the sight of his erection. "Thank you!" And he ran into the woods, without a backwards glance.

That was one part of my plan complete. Now for the more difficult part.

Eve had come most of the way around the lake by now, and I went to meet her as she walked towards me. Up close she was even more breathtaking. Her breasts rocked hypnotically with every step she took, and I could now see her face, which was just as lovely as the rest of her.

Large brown eyes gazed at me with innocent curiosity from under long dark lashes. A few freckles scattered around her nose and cheeks added character to an otherwise flawless complexion, and full lips rested in a natural pout as she came to a halt a few paces from me.

"Hello Eve," I said.

"Who are you? What are you?" came the response, inquisitive but not hostile.

"I'm Mark, I'm... a man. I'm different from you." I told her. "But God made me too." I was trying to tread carefully, speaking slowly and with short sentences, so as not to give her any cause for alarm.

"What have you covered yourself with?" She asked. I'd forgotten about my clothes. Maybe I should have taken them off already, I thought. Was that mistrust I'd heard in her voice? My mind worked frantically.

"They're called clothes. Sometimes it's cold, and we need them to keep us warm. But here you don't really need them. You can wear this if you want though." I gave her my thin jacket, which she put on eagerly.

It was too big for her, but the effect was immensely appealing, her voluptuous tits and shapely midriff still visible, as she had not even attempted to tackle the zip.

"Let's go for a walk," I said, "and we can talk some more."

I took her hand and led her back in the direction she'd come from, into the forest that surrounded the lake, and most importantly, away from Adam. She didn't resist my touch or my suggestion, and I was encouraged.

We walked through the forest, and I discovered that she knew very little about the world she was in, her purpose, or, in fact, anything. She knew she was created by God, and that mankind was to have dominion over the other creations of God.

"And you've actually seen this God, have you?" I questioned her.

I couldn't quite reconcile the two things that I'd discovered today, the TARDIS and God. Surely they couldn't co-exist. There must be some rational explanation.

I was also finding it hard to think straight when I was being repeatedly confronted with her flawless tits, which were hidden by the jacket when she was walking beside me, but which would jump out at me when she turned to me with a new question, surprising me again and again with their sheer perfection.

Even if I managed to drag myself away from her beautiful chest, I would lose myself just as easily in her clear brown eyes.

So it was that her answer to my question hardly penetrated the daze I was in.

"Not exactly seen him, no, but I heard his voice in my head."

Oh well, I thought. If God is omniscient then he knows that I'm in his garden, messing with his creations. And he knows what I'm going to do next as well. As I pondered the finer details of precisely what to do next, Eve made it a whole lot easier for me.

"How are you different from me?" she asked, as we came into a small grassy clearing. "I can hear that you have a deeper voice, and your hair... it's darker, and it grows on your face, but... we're still basically the same aren't we?"

"Not really," I told her. "I don't have those, do I?" I said, indicating her tits, and I took off my t-shirt to let her see my distinctly tit-less chest.

She seemed astounded by the sight, and simply stared at me in silence for several seconds while she took in my broad shoulders and chest. She looked down at her own chest, and back up at mine.

"And of course," I said, to fill the silence, "I'm different down here as well." I gestured towards my crotch. "I don't have... I mean, I've got... well, I'm different."

She looked at me, bemused.

"Look," I said, pulling off my jeans and boxers, and removing my socks as an afterthought.

I stood before her, completely naked.

She looked down in silent amazement. My cock, which seemed to have become accustomed to her presence and was accordingly flaccid, promptly began to swell again under her gaze.

"It's getting bigger, it's... what is it?" she exclaimed, staring with fascination as my cock began to point upwards like a slow-moving lever.

"It's my cock, Eve." I said, watching her carefully. She seemed quite calm despite her obvious curiosity and bewilderment, although her eyes were glued to my growing cock.

I could see her tits rising and falling slightly faster than normal as her excitement affected her breathing, and noticed that her perfect nipples had noticeably hardened. She was responding to the sight of my nakedness. This was good.

"What's it doing?" She asked doubtfully. Her curiosity and excitement seemed to be overwhelming any sense of caution or fear of the unknown.

"It's growing erect, it's er, getting hard," I told her. "It's what happens when I'm aroused, you know, when I'm excited."

I looked at her for some confirmation that she understood, and my gaze was once again drawn inexorably downwards.

"It's like what's happening to your nipples now," I told her, stepping forward and slipping the jacket off her shoulders. She did not step back.

"You're getting excited because you're looking at me, and so your nipples have become bigger and harder. They'll be more sensitive than normal as well, look."

I brought my right hand slowly up to her breast, at every moment expecting her to stop me, or step back, or run away screaming into the forest, but she simply stood there, staring candidly up into my eyes.

My fingers were centimetres from her nipple now, but I hesitated. Could I really do this? Fondle the breasts of the ancestor of all mankind? I stared into Eve's now feverishly earnest brown eyes, my mind in turmoil.

That was when Eve stepped forward a half-step, effectively pushing her left breast into my hand as she stretched up to kiss me on the lips. It was a delicate, tentative kiss, barely more than a pressing of her lips against mine, but it was all I needed to galvanise me into action.

The simultaneous sensation of her soft lips on mine and her warm, smooth breast in my hand sent a barrage of pleasure through me, and I knew what to do.