My story needs to be told. Most will not believe it's true. My great-grandson will receive an old-fashioned hard copy by mail. He has a PhD in theoretical physics. He will at least find it interesting. Should he read the spicy part? You on the internet will. I know it’s true, but even I have trouble believing it.

At 94, my health is failing. So it's now or never to record. Husband of over 60 years died a few months ago. In some ways, it was the second time he passed.

Paul and I had been married for four years and had two boys—a very kind and loving husband. Truth be told, he was excellent in the bedroom! My belief that sex was for the man’s pleasure only was put to rest on our wedding night. He was very patient with me and wanted me to have all the pleasure I could stand. My married girlfriends complained about their husbands' need for sex. Not me! I always looked forward to his advances.

Paul was the master of foreplay. Soft touch at the beginning, allowing me time to become fully aroused. Would take me to the edge of orgasm. Then stop. Had me crying out for pleasure! Always entered me slowly. Had full control of his lust. Thrusting inside me till I was limp and breathless.  

With a growing family, money was always tight. Paul often worked overtime. When a Saturday shift came up, he volunteered. That was the case on a warm July Saturday in 1960. We made love before the boys woke up. Paul dressed while I fixed breakfast and a sandwich for his work lunch. Paul hugged the boys. I walked him to his pickup truck. He kissed me and squeezed my buttocks.

“Be ready for me tonight!” Paul whispered in my ear.

Paul never came home. Late in the afternoon, the police and his job foreman came to our door. Paul died when a steel beam fell. The crane hoisting cable broke. My world came to a halt. Time froze. What would I do now?

Necessity required me to carry on. I still had two boys to raise. The first few months after his death were a blur. I sued the company but had to settle for a quick out-of-court settlement. I needed cash. Paul’s life insurance policy was too small. This held us until I found a job. Jobs for women were not easy to find at the time.

Life settled into a dull routine. Wake up, get the boys off to school, go to work typing freight manifests for a shipping company. Come home, fix dinner, help the boys with homework. Go to bed—no outlet for sex.

One late evening, after the boys were in bed, I was sitting in my living room chair. My neck was sore from the day's work. I used my Pifco Home Massager to work out the kinks. I got up to get something to drink. I turned it off and set it on my chair. Returning with my drink, I sat on the device and somehow managed to switch it back on. “Oh, Lord!” I cried out, jumping up! The sensation was pleasant.  

Since Paul's death, I knew sex was over. My friends said, "Find another man." No one would ever come close to his love. I let myself slowly sit down on the vibrating massager—my months without orgasms caught up with me! Even with my dress on, there was no mistaking the pleasure I felt. I adjusted the massager against my crotch. The feeling grew intense.

I started to moan. Knew I must not wake the boys! My breathing increased. Oh, the pleasure. A sweet warmness came over me. I doubled over and orgasmed for the first time in almost a year. Then I cried. I needed so badly to feel Paul make love to me again.

This became my sex life. Took it into the bedroom, using it almost nightly—a fun way to void the warranty.

On Labor Day, I was trimming some bushes in the backyard. My boys were playing at a neighbor's house with friends. Near the small garden shed, something strange happened. A cold breeze blew across me. I looked up. Where did that come from on this warm late-summer day? I heard a noise from the garden shed. Not thinking, I opened the door. What I saw made me jump!

He, or was it a she? - was more or less human. About 6 feet, or a little more. Slightly green skin and two small bumps on the head. Some device was attached to the back of its head. Two eyes, two arms, and legs. It wore a one-piece dark uniform.

“I don’t know who or what you are; you’d better get out of my shed now.” I held the pruning shears in a threatening gesture.

It began to speak. Sounded like it was asking what year it was.

“You are speaking American English. Accent: Midwest, mid-twentieth century.”

This strange being asked again what year it was.

“1961. Now go before I call the police."

“Please, I am no danger to you. My temporal device failed. This location is my home, about 3000 years from now. I need time to repair it.” He spoke perfect English.

“You're telling me you're a time traveler?” My voice was higher than normal.

“More or less, yes,” he replied.

“Are you human?” I inquired.

Feeling more at ease, I put the shears in my apron pocket.

“Again, more or less. Humans have some alien genes in my time.  My father was half human; my mother was from another species off-world,” he explained.

“That accounts for your looks. Ok, fix whatever it is and get out of my shed. You better be gone after lunch,” I demanded.

While eating lunch, I convinced myself it was a dream caused by the heat. Then an idea came to me. I fixed a ham sandwich and a glass of tea. Back at the shed, my “friend” was still sitting.

“Not doing much, I see. Anyway, do your kind 3000 years from now still eat and drink?”

“Not what I usually eat, but this will do. The device on the back of my head is rebooting. Hard to explain with the knowledge of this era.” He took a small bite of the sandwich.

“So, what do you do on your time travels?” I inquired.

“Myself and others mostly observe the past. Learn lessons for colonies on new planets. Rare occasions gently change events for better outcomes years later.”

The device on his head beeped.

“Oh dear, this repair is going to take longer than expected. May need this shelter for a day or two.” He sounded concerned.

“More ham sandwiches then?” I said with a chuckle.

“One meal a day is normal for me. Could you provide me with electricity from your power grid? " I require an external power source to disconnect from Earth’s magnetic field,” he said, sounding very scientific.

“You want an extension cord run out here?” I asked.

“Yes, that's it, please,” he said.

“Need to buy one at the hardware store. I will be back soon.”

Driving back, I was sure I was dreaming. Plugged the cord into the basement outlet, pushed it out the window, and walked out to the shed. He was still there.

“Here is your power. 115 volts, I think? Don’t know what to tell my children if they ask.” I was concerned.

“What about their father? Is he home?” My “friend” asked.

“My husband died a year ago. Accident at work.” I wiped a tear from my eye.

“That is sad; so very sorry.” At least he understood death.

“What do I call you? Man or woman?”

“For your reference, I am male. My ID is E24897. Don’t have a spoken name like you. You can name me anything you like.”

“Ok, Joe it is! My name is Sally. My oldest boy is Paul Jr., named after his father; his brother is Charles. Hopefully you don’t see them. I'd better get back in the house. Please do not leave without telling me.”

The next day Joe was still there. Got him another ham sandwich and tea.

“Repairs not going well?” I asked.

“No. I need a signal receiver. Think, in this time, it’s called a TV antenna,” Joe explained.

Off to the store again and back. This is getting expensive. Gave him the indoor “rabbit-ear " type.  Joe looked at it. Clearly not what he hoped for.

“Well, I can make it work.” He thanked me.

Late that evening, something in my mind heard my name called. I walked out to the shed. Joe had the power cord and antenna all somehow hooked to his device.

“Good, you received my message. Hard to say how it’s done," Joe stated.

“Sally, please rotate the antenna slowly while I concentrate on the signal. When everything is aligned, I should disappear but still be here. Just 3000 years ahead.” He sounded hopeful.

“Okay, Joe,“ was my whisper

I very slowly turned the antenna.

“Getting close, Joe answered. Almost there. Just a little more.”

I stopped turning the antenna.

“Why did you stop, Sally? I was almost connected to my timeline.” His voice was higher-pitched than before.

“Please! I cried. You said you are a time traveler. Can changes be made to the past? Would you, could you prevent my husband from dying in the accident? He means everything to the children and me.” I dropped to my knees in front of him.

“I knew you would ask if I could adjust history to keep your husband from passing. What you're asking is difficult to achieve and isn't viewed favorably by my overseers. But I owe you much. I will advocate on your behalf.” He sounded sincere.

I rotated the antenna just a tiny bit more. A cold breeze, and Joe was gone. My mind ached at how he could be here, but in the future. I rolled up the cord and carried the antenna to the basement. The next few weeks, nothing changed. It was all a long, odd dream I told myself. Paul's side of the bed was empty.

Over a month later, I stared out at the backyard, still wondering if it was all real or a dream. Could I really have talked to someone from 3,000 years in the future? And he needed my help, and ham sandwiches to get home? Not likely. Paul was dead—no miracles for me.

Again, I felt the cold breeze. This time it encompassed the house and yard. It was like a wind moving west to east. Was Joe the time traveler coming back to say, sorry, can’t change the timeline for you?

Nothing happened. Wishful thinking on my part. Stepping over to the living room window, I saw Paul’s pickup truck in the driveway. I gripped the wall to keep upright. I had sold it to raise cash till the settlement came in. I heard hammering from the basement. I could hardly breathe; I ran down the basement steps. My heart was pounding in my chest. I stopped just short of the last step, stared wide-eyed, mouth open.  

Paul looked up from his work. My first steps were slow. Then I dashed to his arms.

“You're back, you are really back! Paul, Paul, I love you so much!”

“Glad you're excited to see me.” Paul looked at me with a warm smile  

“Missed you so much today.” I touched his face to see if he was real.

“You ok, Sally?” Paul asked.

“I think so. Oh yes, you are here with me again!”

We spent several minutes holding and kissing one another. I took his hands, pressing them against my breasts.

“Remember a year or so ago, you worked a Saturday.” I had to know the answer.

“Uh, yes, that was the day we were supposed to lift a beam into place. Why?” Paul sounded confused.

“Supposed to, what happened?’ I held my breath.

“The crane’s diesel engine would not start. The mechanic found some odd device on the injection pump. He also saw the hoisting cable was fraying. The device had some number on it. Uh, think it was E something, uh, 24897. Had to bring in another crane Monday," Paul recalled.

“Bet some guy named Joe did it," I laughed.

“Well, if Joe or whoever gets caught, the boss will boot him to the middle of next week!” Paul laughed.

“I sure he is well past the middle of next week.” 3000 years, I was thinking to myself.

“You are acting strange; why the interest in last year’s job?” my husband asked.

I pressed my breasts against his chest and kissed him. My desire for Paul was at a fever pitch.

“Odd thought I had today; I get them when I feel extra lustful,” I teased him.

Never let Paul out of my sight that evening. After the boys were in bed, I undressed, climbed into bed, and curled up against Paul. I wrapped my hand around his manhood. His cock quickly became erect.

“I need you so badly,” I whispered. "Please, please make love to me," I begged.

I have never been so aroused before. Paul turned me over, kissing my breasts. Guided his hand down between my legs. The sensation was beyond wonderful, something I had believed was gone forever. Did the impossible happen? Was my husband truly here, the father of the children sleeping down the hallway?  

“Wow, you are really wet in record time,” Paul whispered.

Wasting no time, Paul slowly pushed his hard cock into my vagina.

‘Yes, yes, please, make love to me!" I cried out.

Just a few thrusts were all I needed. My orgasm was overwhelming. Never felt such a long wave of pleasure. Put my arm over my mouth to muffle my moaning. Squeezed down on Paul’s pounding organ. His mouth fell open. He gasped for air, pushed himself deeply into me. Holding that position for a moment, then a huge release of his semen into the deepest part of my love tunnel.

Paul withdrew himself. We held each other. Thinking I would no longer need my device for self-pleasure again.

“You were into it tonight, Sally. Wore me out. So glad you're mine.” Paul sounded a little winded.

The next morning, we were walking in our backyard. We stopped by the garden shed. Paul would never believe the story of a 3000-year-ahead, future, half-alien time traveler. I hugged my husband and smiled.

“Really need to knock this down before it falls,” Paul stated.

“No, no! Someone may need it for shelter. Who knows the future?” I exclaimed.