A new double meant I needed supplies. A second hibernation bath, obviously. An ample supply of basic elements. Another copy of my own DNA, carefully collected. And of course I’d need more car batteries. With the occasional squeal from the house interrupting my train of thought, I also insisted that my double act as my lab assistant.
“A good idea,” Clara said, straightening her skirt and glaring at my double.
The two of us drove around town breaking into cars. One of us pried open the hood while the other served lookout. We tried to pick older cars left on deserted streets, but we were a bad influence on each other. Occasionally one of us would dare the other to go for a shiny sedan parked in a driveway. The house lights would flip on, the lookout would honk the horn, and then we’d peel away hooting.
He was a big help in the lab, too. He seemed to have an innate understanding of the task at hand, the complex scientific theories we were wading through. Alas, he was as stumped as I when it came to the cranial transistor problem, the crux of the interface. We discussed possible solutions while tossing a tennis ball back and forth. Then the potassium indicator alarm would go off and I’d roll my eyes and I’d toss him a banana, instead.
The second double was complete in a few weeks. We ran diagnostics as he floated naked in the hibernation bath. By some fluke of chemistry, this one actually did have a slightly larger penis. Thicker and an inch longer, maybe two.
The interface, on the other hand, remained inoperable. I sighed and booted up our new member.
***
Clara had just come out of the shower when the three of us entered the bedroom. She had one towel wrapped around her body, another around her hair. We wore nothing. She stood with one foot on the bed, rubbing lotion on her leg, and she jumped when she saw us.
“Jesus, I thought you two were working.” Then she glanced at us in turn and her smile began to grow larger.
“He’s ready?” she asked, barely able to control her excitement.
“It’s ready,” I said. “But you have to be gentle this first time.”
We began to approach her slowly and she began to back away, beaming.
“Is that an order?” She pulled the towel from her hair and dropped it on the bed.
“The first of many,” I said.
We kept approaching and she kept backing away. She looked over our bodies, one at a time, and bit her lip.
“What if I say no?” Clara said.
“No?” We walked closer, she backed away.
“What if I can’t handle all of you?”
She stopped, having backed herself into the corner. She clutched her towel as we stood in front of her. One of my doubles reached out and ran his fingers along the cotton. He gave the towel a gentle tug and it fell to the floor. Clara swallowed and instinctively held an arm over her breasts, a hand between her legs.
“What if I can’t handle all of you?” she repeated.
“You’ll just have to take us one at a time,” I said.
We lowered Clara gently to her knees. One of my doubles lifted her chin, letting her suck briefly on his thumb. Then all three of us let our cocks rest against her face.
***
“Okay well we have to give them names now,” Clara said the next morning, cutting into an enormous stack of waffles.
“That defeats the purpose,” I said. “We’re all Harrys.”
“It’s nothing personal, sweetie, there’s just too many of you. I can’t call all of you the same thing.”
“Why not?”
“Harry, Harry 1, and Harry 2. Though I think the new one may be a Harry 9?”
I groaned and leaned forward to steal a piece of toast from her plate.
“I’m not imagining it this time, am I?” Clara said.
“He’s slightly bigger. I have no idea how.”
Clara raised her eyebrows, pursed her lips, and reached for a bear claw.
“He’s resting?” she asked.
“Hands out of the water,” I stressed. “No reminiscing this time.”
“I would never! But if history repeats, just one more orgasm and he’ll be able to help you in the lab.”
I stood to refill her juice glass.
“Patience, Clara,” I said. “Patience.”
But one morning, with only the single orgasm on the books, my new double strolled butt-naked into the bathroom.
I was brushing my teeth and he asked if I had a spare. I fished around a drawer and handed him an unopened toothbrush. He cracked the seal with no trouble, then reached for the toothpaste. “Only four out of five dentists approve,” he mumbled, reading the label. We both stood there brushing.
“I was also hoping to get a copy of today’s paper,” he said. “Does that come to the house?”
I didn’t answer.
“Not the whole thing. If someone else wants the arts section, that’s fine by me. But I would like to flip through the business page.”
“We get a paper,” I said.
He smiled and nodded in approval just before spitting in the sink. “After breakfast then?”
I watched him rub his fingers through his chest hairs, plucking any grays.
“Did you have sex with my wife?” I asked.