Resurrection

Copyright (c) 2020 James Miehoff, All Rights Reserved.

This work may not be published whether for fee or free without this copyright.

------------------

The following is a work of fiction and as such all characters mentioned herein are fictional and any resemblance to any persons living, dead or fictional is coincidental. All characters mentioned herein that participate in sexual activities are adults (18 years of age or older).

------------------

The Resurrection Machine burped when I was born. For whatever reason, it didn't wipe the memory of my past lives before inserting me into the body of little Robert Newcastle just as he was being born. While the brain of an infant cannot hold the enormity of a thousand lifetimes, it can squirrel them away for a later time.

For me, that later time happened on my 18th birthday. My girlfriend at the time was born two days earlier than me, but my birthday happened to fall on a Saturday so her parents threw us a joint birthday party. In typical early 1960's fashion, the adults were drinking hard liquor and getting smashed. We snuck sips as we cleaned up and were pretty buzzed by the time all the guests were gone and we poured her father into bed. Her mom was really blitzed as well. Melissa asked, "Will you take her to bed?" How prophetic was that.

As we were headed for the bedroom, Melissa's mom stopped me and stared into my eyes and asked, "You're gonna fuck Melissa aren't you?" as she proceeded to pull down my swimsuit and bent down to stroke my love muscle. As she did that, the memories of a thousand lifetimes of having sex flooded my brain and I stood there stunned. Eventually, the fog cleared and I reached down and pulled her up.

"Maybe," I said, "But only if I can have you too."

With that she grinned and started unzipping her dress as she pulled me into their bedroom. She was naked under the dress and so once she kicked it to the side, she lay down on the bed and I got down on my knees and ate her, right next to her snoring husband. After her third orgasm, which should have woken the dead, she said, "Mmmmm. Thass nice," and passed out. I slid her under the covers and went back to Melissa.

The dishes were done by the time I got back so I grabbed Melissa and led her outside. As soon as I closed the kitchen door, I grabbed her and squashed her bikinied butt against my erection. My hands slipped her bikini top up and off her breasts and she gasped as I grabbed two handfuls and I kissed that spot, you know the one, just behind her ear.

As she melted into me I slid a hand down across her flat stomach and hijacked her pussy. Another gasp came from her as my fingers inserted themselves into her. The combined actions of my lips and tongue and hands had her moaning through her very first orgasm shortly after. Her legs were quivering and would barely hold her as I laid her down on the lounge chair and pulled her bottoms off. Attacking her quim with my tongue and inserting fingers into her pussy and ass, I quickly brought her to her second and third orgasms.

Standing up I shucked my swim suit and slid my cock to her opening. I had felt that she was still a virgin, and started to open her up with my fingers. As she lay under me quivering, I pushed inside. As I removed her virginity, I pulled hard on her nipples so that the two pains would cancel. She buckled her hips and finished tearing away the barrier and buried me fully into herself. It wasn't long before I warned her of my impending orgasm. "I'm on the pill," she said.

Before the night was through, her pussy, mouth and ass were no longer virgin territory. She was not a voyeur virgin either as she stood kissing me as I fucked her mother as I had promised.

The knowledge of sex that I had learned as a male whore in a 17th century Parisian bordello stood me in good stead as I fucked and sucked my way through her girlfriends and most of the female half of my graduating class and quite a few mothers besides Melissa's. By the time I left for college, I had over two hundred entries in my Conquest Diary.

I smiled at those memories as I lay dying in hospice. Cancer is a bitch. But I had put almost twelve thousand more entries into my diary in the intervening fifty six years. I hoped I had enough left for one more. I might get that little Chinese-American night nurse, Chloe, to suck my dick tonight, and then my date with the Resurrection Machine.