Past Lives

I worked at many different jobs to pay my way through college. I delivered pizza, waited tables, washed dishes and sorted books at the library. I pumped gas, trimmed trees, fried burgers, and walked dogs. I would take just about anything that I could fit into my class schedule. I was in between jobs and was getting desperate when I saw the following ad tacked to the bulletin board outside the cafeteria:

"Students needed for Psychology Department research project. Must be open-minded. Generous pay. Call Professor Kelly at extension 642."

I rushed to the closest phone and called Professor Kelly's office. If she was in charge of the project, that was all the incentive I needed to volunteer. She was the only beautiful female professor on the campus. I knew guys who took her classes just so they could stare at her cleavage for an hour every couple of days. I spoke to her assistant and made an appointment for that evening.

I had butterflies in my stomach when I arrived at Professor Kelly's office for my appointment. She looked hot in a tight cashmere sweater that I assumed was a gift from an admirer. Her skirt came to just above her knees, the perfect length - not so short that it attracted criticism from her stuffy peers, but short enough to please her fans. Her pretty face was framed by fluffy, blonde hair. She had been conservative with her makeup, using only lipstick and two dabs of rouge.

"Larry, do you know what reincarnation is?" she asked.

"Isn't that a belief that we live many lives, that after we die we come back as someone else? Personally, I think it's nonsense."

"Yes, that's right. And I'm glad you are skeptical. You'll make a better subject than you would if you were a believer. Do you know what regression is?"

"No, I've never heard of that."

"It's possible to recall memories of past lives while under hypnosis. That's what this project is about. I have received a grant to conduct this research. I would like to hypnotize you and try to regress you to a past life. I think you'll find it interesting. It might even give you some insights into your present life."

After we discussed how much I would be paid, she asked me to stretch out on the couch and make myself comfortable. She dimmed the lights, took a seat behind me, and began speaking to me in a soft monotone. I immediately became drowsy.

"Now you are relaxing more and more with each passing second. All of the tension is leaving your body. You feel as though you are floating on a cloud without a care in the world. Now I am going to count to three, and when I say three, you will fall into a deep state of relaxation. One... two... three. Now I want you to go back in time."

A short time passed and then I began seeing images. Faces came toward me out of the darkness. It was as though I were going back in time and passing these people along the way. Then it happened - I was reliving a chapter of a previous life.

"Larry, can you see anything?" the Professor asked.

"Yes. I'm in a large room among dozens of people wearing white togas. They are laughing and joking in a strange language. I'm completely naked. A beautiful young woman is kneeling in front of me sucking my enormous cock. I sense that she is a slave. I'm looking down at the many scars on my body and getting a sense of my identity. I'm a famous gladiator. When I fight in the arena, I fight naked so the spectators can see my enormous cock swinging between my legs. The fighting always arouses me, and by the time I finish off my opponent, I always have an enormous hard-on. I'm not a slave, but a nobleman who fights for money, fame and women. I don't know how I know these things, I just do."

"Behind the slave girl, I see an older woman of about fifty laying on pillows. She and I are the only ones naked. A smiling man sitting next to the woman motions me forward. I get the impression that he is an important man, maybe a senator. I can't understand everything they are saying, but I sense that they are husband and wife and that he wants me to knock her up. I'm mounting her and lining my cock up with her pussy. I'm pushing hard now as I try to penetrate her. Now I'm fucking her tight cunt. She's very slick inside but my cock is so big that I have to push hard to get deep inside her. She's bucking up against me. The husband is laughing and urging both of us on. She's panting, clawing at my back and shouting "mi figlio". I recognize those words; they mean "my son". I'm fucking my own mother! She shrieks that she is coming, and I'm coming with her. I'm getting off of her now. Two muscular slaves are coming forward, taking her by the ankles, and holding her upside down. I'm losing it now. It's fading away."

I awoke and found the Professor standing above me with a look of disbelief on her face. "Oh, my God, Professor, it worked. It was the most incredible experience of my life. It felt like the real thing. It felt like I was there, reliving the whole thing. All of my senses were functioning."

"I know all about it. You told me. " That came as a surprise, because even though I vividly remembered the experience, I did not remember narrating it to her. She handed me a box of Kleenex, and said, "I think you had better go to the bathroom and get cleaned up. You had a little accident."

My face turned as red as a beet when I saw the dark stain on my pants. I hurried to her small bathroom and did my best to clean up the mess. Even though I had never been more embarrassed in my life, I was also tremendously excited. I had always been skeptical about reincarnation. I suspected it was just wishful thinking by people who craved immortality. Now I knew that it was true. I had had an epiphany, and it changed my life forever.

I returned to the office and tried to apologize. She told me not to give it a second thought, that it was a bodily function and nothing more. As we listened to the audio tape of the session, my face once again turned red.

"Professor, I'm so sorry about the bad language. I don't remember saying any of this."

"Don't worry about it. Why don't you call me Irene? We're not in the classroom now. There's no question in my mind that you had a life in Rome, or at least, in the Roman Empire. It would be nice to know which era you lived in."

"Irene, please send me back. I'll try to find out."

"No. The chances of going back to that event in that particular life are virtually non-existent. Anyway, I never regress anyone more than once a day. I'm absolutely convinced that you had an authentic regression. I've never had a subject respond so quickly and provide so much detailed information. Come back the same time next week and we'll try again."

I tossed and turned that night. I could not stop thinking about my experience. I wondered about my life as a Roman gladiator. Had I died in the arena to the cheers of thousands of bloodthirsty spectators? Had I made my mother pregnant? I tried without success to hypnotize myself. I finally fell asleep.

I don't know how I made it through that week. I couldn't think of anything but my regression experience. I wasn't getting enough sleep at night and my grades suffered. The week seemed like a month.

I was early for my next appointment with Dr. Kelly. I prayed that my experience of the previous week had not been a fluke. Irene looked even hotter than she had the last time. She had applied more makeup and unbuttoned her blouse all the way down to her brassiere. I tried not to let her heavenly cleavage distract me.

"You had better put this on before we begin," she said, as she shoved a foil packet across the desk. I went to the bathroom and masturbated to get my cock hard enough for the condom, then returned to the office and stretched out on the couch. I tried to clear my mind of all distractions as Irene began her intentionally monotonous spiel. Faces, some beautiful and some hideous, came out of the darkness. Suddenly, I was there, in some distant place and time.

"Can you see anything, Larry," Irene whispered.

"I'm naked and kneeling on a bed. A beautiful woman is lying naked in front of me. She is in her fifties, maybe even older, but still very beautiful. She is wearing a silver wig and a lot of jewelry. Baubles are attached to her nipples. There is a beauty mark on her cheek. Her arms are extended toward me. The bed is surrounded by dozens of people, some naked, some wearing clothes. I recognize the language from my French classes in high school. The people are shouting and laughing. They are saying, "Fuck her. Fuck your mother."

"Through an open door, I can see people dancing. The women are all wearing white wigs and long, floor-length gowns. Many of them have one, or both breasts bared. I have seen the dance in movies and know that it is called the minuet. I'm climbing on top of my mother now. She is trying to stuff my big cock into her pussy. I'm in! She's so slick that somebody must have had her before me. I'm pumping my cock in and out now while the others cheer me on. "Fuck her harder," they are saying. "Fuck your mother harder. " Oh, God, she's fucking me back. It feels wonderful. Her big soft tits are against my chest. She smells like lilacs. She's wrapping her legs around my waist and begging me to fuck her harder and faster. She's screaming so loud that my ears are ringing. I'm making my mother come. Oh, fuck, now I'm coming. I'M SHOOTING MY LOAD INTO MY MOTHER! The others are pulling me off and another man is going forward to take my place. I'm losing it now. It's fading out."

I came out of the trance in time to see Irene adjusting her clothes. I suspect that her scientific detachment had given way to lust and that she had her hand down in her panties.

"It's just amazing!" she said. "Two times, and both times you recalled sexual experiences with your mothers. If I didn't know better, I would think you are trying to pull off a hoax. Have you ever had sexual thoughts about your mother in this life?"

"Well, sure. My mother is very beautiful. I wouldn't be human if I didn't fantasize about, well, you know."

She pondered my confession for awhile and then said, "That must be it. Your desire for your mother in this life somehow steers you toward those events in your past lives."

I excused myself and went to the bathroom. The tip of the rubber was full of spunk. There was so much of it that the rubber probably would have burst if it had been a cheaper brand. I tied a knot in it and tossed it into the wastebasket. I returned to the office, where Irene was rewinding the tape.

"Well?" she asked.

"Yes, I did it again. The condom was a good idea."

"Judging by your descriptions of the costumes, music and dancing, you lived in France. The minuet was popular during the reign of Louis the Sixteenth. French aristocrats frequently indulged in lavish orgies. The women often bared one or both of their breasts. It was considered stylish. Mother-son and father-daughter incest was common. I find it very interesting that the regressions end as soon as you come... er... I mean ejaculate. It's as though your sexual energy keeps them alive."

I wanted to take another trip back in time, but knew better than to ask. That night I lay in bed and replayed the French experience again and again. I wondered about my life as a French aristocrat. Had I made my beautiful mother pregnant? Had I ended up on the guillotine? Jacking off made me drowsy enough to fall asleep.

"Larry, I would like your permission to write a book about your regressions. We've made a major breakthrough in the field of regression therapy and we must share it with the world."

It was a week after my French regression experience and I was sitting across the desk from Professor Kelly, who was becoming more radiant each week.

"No way, Irene. You can't tell the world that I fucked my mothers in my other lives."

"Well, I wouldn't use your real name. Anyway, it was a long time ago. You haven't fucked your mother in this life, have you?" My cock jerked when I heard her say "fuck".

"No, of course not. Well, I guess a book is a good idea. I'm convinced that reincarnation is real and I do want others to know about it."

I went to the bathroom and put a condom on my cock, then made myself comfortable on the couch. Irene began her spell-inducing monologue in her satiny voice. The real world faded out and I began another journey into the darkness. The disembodied heads floated toward me, some smiling, some scowling. Friends and enemies from previous lives, perhaps? Then suddenly I was regressed.

"Larry, can you see anything?"

"Yes. I'm bent over a bed with a tit in my mouth. Another man is sucking her other tit, and another is between her legs lapping her pussy. An older man is sitting next to the bed playing with his cock. I'm looking at her face now. She's an older woman, but she is still very pretty. I'm running my hand down across her belly. She's a little plump, but very nice. The guy who is licking her pussy is getting to his knees. His big cock is fully hard. The other tit-sucker and I move aside so he can mount her. Now he's fucking her hard and fast. Their bellies are smacking together."

"I'm in a log cabin. I'm going to a window now to try to see where I am. I see nothing but wilderness for miles. There are snow-capped mountains in the distance. Now I'm at another window. Nothing here, either. I see a shallow pan on a crude table - a gold-mining pan. A few nuggets are scattered next to it. We're gold-miners in the wilderness of Alaska. The woman is the only woman within a thousand miles so we all have to share her."

"The oldest man is calling me forward. He tells me to do my duty to my mother. He must be my father and the other men are my brothers. My mother is telling me to hurry. I'm climbing on top of her now. She's trying to stuff my cock into her pussy. I'm in! Her pussy is making squishing sounds as I ram my cock in. Her belly is coming up against mine so hard that I can hardly keep my cock in her. She's howling like a wild animal. She's coming now. Her pussy is sucking at my cock. I can't hold it back. I'M COMING! I'm getting off of her now. My father is coming forward to take his turn. He's driving his thick cock into the mess made by his sons. It's fading out now. I'm losing it."

I awoke to find Irene on her knees next to the couch with her big, beautiful tits hanging out of her dress. She was fumbling with my belt buckle. I helped her out, and as soon as I had my pants loosened she pulled them down around my knees. As she tugged the rubber free of my cock, the spunk ran down over the shaft. Irene's warm, wet mouth closed around my cock. She sucked it better than anyone ever had. Her soft, wet lips stimulated the thousands of nerves in the head and throat.

Having succeeded in her goal of keeping me hard, she straddled me, hitched up her dress, and impaled herself on my cock. There was a look of unbridled lust on her face as she posted up and down on my prong. "It's about time you fucked someone beside your mothers," she hissed. I finally shook off my catatonia and took action. Planting my feet squarely on the couch, I began thrusting up into her tunnel of love. I roughly fondled her soft tits and pulled them toward me. As I nursed on her, she began keening, softly at first and then louder until I feared we might be overheard.

"Oh, my God, that's it! You're hitting all the right spots. I'm going to come. HUH... HUH... HUH... HUH... I'M COMING! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

She came for a long time, and before she was finished, my load was deep inside her. From then on, all of the regression sessions ended with us fucking. I was getting more sex than I had ever had in my life. Irene's best-selling book had twenty-one chapters, and, in each one, I fucked my mother in that particular life. Irene jokingly called me "the world's greatest mother-fucker."

I gave my beautiful mother a gift copy of the book and she loved it. Of course, I didn't tell her that I was the protagonist. Now I wonder when I will fulfill my destiny by fucking her.