by Cara Vance
“This one’s a bit young, isn’t she?” I hissed through clenched teeth while I struggled to contain his manhood. Whoever owned this body hadn’t had more than a handful of partners, if that. It was nice...reminded me of my own misspent youth and those first few men I had let use me. Harold and I had met not long after and I remembered how our younger selves had fucked like rabbits in those early days. I smiled, thinking of the three hours ahead of me. He’d be lucky to keep up.
“Freshman from the local college,” he replied, continuing to thrust into her - me - with everything he had. “Now shut the fuck up, Lydia...or do I have to gag you?”
That might have been fun, but it wouldn’t have left my mouth free to tease him. I lifted my head and put my tongue to better use than for talking. I nipped at his neck and tried to work my way down, albeit it was easier said than done while restrained. The bastard wasn’t about to win that easily, though. The body I inhabited was young, strong, and nubile...perhaps a runner or maybe a cheerleader. I wrapped my legs around Harold, crossed them over his ass, and bucked my hips with everything I had.
“Oh God, Lydia!” he gasped, trying to regain control. I tittered in response. With me tied down, he thought he was firmly in charge. I may have been a nineteen or twenty-year-old, physically, but mentally I was an experienced woman. He should have known better. Let him dominate this body after I left, for now, though, I was going to enjoy making him cum, whether or not he wanted to.
He tried to pull back, but I just locked my legs more tightly around him, grinding my hips upward until the tip of his cock slammed against this body’s cervix. I felt a small shudder rock me. The feeling was so delicious that I wanted to lose myself in it. This body was young, tight, and wet...it wouldn’t be able to withstand many more hits like that, but that was fine too. If I timed this right...
And I did. My hands were useless, so I used everything else I had. Rocking my body against his, I felt his rock-hard manhood plunge into me again. I arched my back and felt his rough chest scraping against my overly sensitive nipples. A girlish squeal escaped my lips. I couldn’t help myself. I remembered back to my first time. His name escaped me - Doug or something like that - but I never forgot his body. He had lasted maybe thirty seconds inside of me, barely enough time to lift my bra, but it had been enough. By the time he pulled his sticky member from my newly deflowered body, I knew that my days of being a girl were finished. I had become a woman.
That thought, combined with this body and Harold’s hammering, began to send me over the edge. I contracted with everything I had, unwilling to give up, and was rewarded for my efforts by a splash of Harold’s warm seed deep inside of me. I took that feeling and was lost in it. My body convulsed with pleasure as our bodily juices mixed. The scent of his musk filled my nostrils. I opened my mouth to receive his tongue, wishing my every sense to be filled by him...not wishing to know where I ended and he began.
I’ll say it again: the beyond is pleasant enough. Gone are the woes of our earthly forms and whatever troubles might have plagued us, and in that there is true peace to be found. However, the true meaning of heaven is right here on Earth when deep in the grip of a mind-blowing orgasm. We can only experience it for a few moments at a time, but there is nothing like it in all of creation. Trust me on this; I have a little extra perspective in this regard.
Eventually, my spasms turned to quivers and then finally abated altogether. Spent, I felt the last few drops of Harold spill into me. In life, I had often lamented that we were never blessed with children. Even now, the pain of being childless remained...even if just as a distant memory. Tests had shown that Harold was sterile. In death, though, I saw that was probably a good thing now. The way he was going through women with his bare cock, he would have otherwise probably been hit with a dozen paternity suits by now. It was also a win for me. I had always loved the feel of a man’s release. Now I got to experience it in more ways than I ever dared dream.
Harold pulled out of me and produced a key with which to free me from my bonds. I found my wrists were a little sore from straining against them, but I was otherwise feeling quite good. Ah, to be young again.
“I’m happily surprised to see that you came,” he said, sitting up in bed.
I laughed. “Why should that surprise you, dear? You seem to always make me cum.”
“Not what I meant,” he replied.
“What then?”
He hesitated a moment before saying, “It’s not important.”
“Tell me,” I insisted, sitting up and putting my arms around him. I leaned against his back, feeling my nipples harden as they came into contact with his skin. This body, whoever she was, was already prepared for another go. I could get used to that.
“The...spell,” he said. “I thought I might have messed it up tonight.”
“How?” I asked, intrigued. Aside from passing mentions of it back when we began our illicit supernatural trysts, Harold had been quite mum on his methods for bringing me back. Considering the delights that awaited me upon my return, and the short time periods involved, I hadn’t thought to question him further.
“It’s complicated.”
“I’m not a moron, Harold,” I protested, briefly remembering the small art gallery I had run in life. I wondered what had ever happened to it.
Before I could ponder that further, though, he replied, “As I said, it’s difficult to explain. Tonight I thought I might have accidentally mixed up some of the components.”
“What components?”
“Belladonna,” he said offhandedly. “It’s one of the key ingredients. I wasn’t paying attention. Some telemarketer called me while I was preparing things, and I thought I might have mixed in mandrake extract instead. I keep the damn things right next to each other...”
He was right; I had no idea what he was talking about. Heck, I barely believed in an afterlife and I was living (or something) in it. The supernatural mumbo jumbo he was talking about was beyond me.
I decided to push that thought away. I only had about two and a half more hours before being banished back to the netherworld. I wanted to test the limits of this body...and Harold’s.
“Let’s not worry about that right now.” I slid off the bed and positioning myself on my knees before him. “It worked. That’s all that matters. Let’s make good use of our time together.” I lowered my head and took him into my mouth.
♦ ♦ ♦
Harold was done for after I finished sucking him off, savoring the taste of him in the youthful mouth of this body. I was a bit disappointed, but then I had to remind myself that middle age was only a few years hence for him. Besides which, youthful energy was great and all, but I would much rather have an experienced lover...even if it meant that I had to enjoy quality over quantity.
Shortly thereafter, we snuggled together. I eventually dozed off, expecting to be awakened by the feeling of being dragged back to the world beyond.
Instead, I awoke to find Harold once again on top of me. He entered me and I accepted him willingly so, thinking perhaps I hadn’t slept all that long. I was impressed. He had more stamina than I had given him credit for. He lowered his head to nibble on my neck and I put my arms around him, enjoying the feeling of him inside of me again. That’s when I turned my head and noticed the clock.
What the...?! The digital face read 11:09 PM. How was I still there? My three hours was more than up. I had never been a sports fan in life, but the phrase extra innings went through my head. Considering Harold’s renewed vigor, that seemed an apt enough description.
“Ugh, you’re so tight, baby,” he gasped. “Do you feel me? It’s all for you, every inch.”
Huh? What was up with the cheese-ball line?
“Have you been a bad girl?” he asked, pinning me down and slowly withdrawing so just the tip of him remained inside.
“Yes,” I replied.
“Yes what?” he growled.
“Um...yes, sir?” I replied uncertainly.
He pulled out all the way and just looked down upon me sternly. “Yes, daddy,” he corrected. “Isn’t that what you said you liked?”
I had never said that. I wasn’t into the whole daddy/naughty stepdaughter thing. It had always seemed a little sick to me. Of course, considering the things we had done in the past few months, a little role playing was hardly something to get worked up over.
Then, it hit me. Was Harold even aware that I was still here? Surely, he would know if something different had happened with his spell.
Or would he?
As he continued to work me over, I remembered back to earlier. Hadn’t he said something about mixing up his ingredients...or something like that, anyway? It was getting hard to concentrate. Regardless of my confusion, his member was touching me in all the right places.
I decided to play along to see if I was right, figuring the worst case scenario was another orgasm and then him laughing about it afterwards. “Yes, daddy,” I replied in my best pouty voice. It came out sounding very young and very kinky. “I’ve been a bad girl.”
“Poor little Julie,” he replied. Julie? Was that her name? “I guess daddy has to punish you then.”
Before I could think further on the matter, Harold dove into me up to the hilt, spearing me like a fish. My thoughts became jumbled. This was pointless. There was no way I was going to think things through while he was plunging into me with reckless abandon. I figured I might as well play along and enjoy it while it lasted.
Not exactly a bad deal, all in all.
♦ ♦ ♦
I came down from the second orgasm just as Harold shot off his cannon. It wasn’t as much as earlier, having been spent twice already this evening, but it still felt good when he coated my insides with his spunk. I have to admit, sick kink or not, the whole daddy game had been both dirty and exciting. I might have to revise my opinion on that in the future.
For the moment, though, I decided to play things neutral and hope that I didn’t give myself away. It was now about an hour past my normal deadline. I was extremely curious. Was this now permanent, or would it end at any moment? A part of me hoped for the former, but at the same time, I felt guilty for thinking such. What would happen to the owner of this body if that occurred? It would be wrong to usurp her life before she really had a chance to live it.
I pushed those thoughts away as I lay next to Harold, wondering what he would say...although he didn’t seem to have much talk left in him. Three times was a lot in one evening for a man, even for one in good shape.
“How was that?” he eventually asked, his arm still around me.
“That was pretty wild,” I replied honestly.
“Anyone else ever make you cum like that?”
That was a brazen question, but then I remembered the dynamic here. Harold was an experienced adult, whereas this Julie character was obviously pretty young. The advantage was all his...under normal circumstances.
Not having any idea what Julie’s life was like, I tried to keep it vague. “No.”
“How many men have you been with?”
“Umm...not many.”
“Not many?”
Damn it. Oh well, might as well make up something that sounded right. “Two others.”
“Only two?” he asked, surprised.
Crap! Was I the campus whore or something? Oh well, might as well stick with my answer. No point in sounding like a lying moron. “Just two...although never like that,” I thought quickly, trying to distract him from prying more deeply. “...and never without a condom before. That was pretty awesome. Hope I don’t wind up pregnant, though.”
Harold just laughed in response and turned over. “Don’t worry about that, babe. I had a vasectomy twenty years ago. As the saying goes, I’m firing blanks.”
“Really?!” I asked, perhaps a little more harshly than I had intended.
“Yep...although right now, if you don’t mind, I need to reload for a little while.”
I could tell by the way he was lying there that he was falling asleep. That was fine by me. If so, it gave me some time to think about what he said. A vasectomy? Why would he lie about that to the girl? There was no point in it when he could have just told her he was sterile and been done with it. And why twenty years ago? That would have been before we had even met. It didn’t make any sense.
Those and other unpleasant thoughts began to enter into my mind. What reason did he have to lie to Julie? It wasn’t like she was anything to him. By next week, she would in all likelihood be forgotten and replaced by some other warm body. The only conclusions I could draw were unpleasant ones. What if he wasn’t lying? What if the bastard had been telling the truth?
That didn’t make any sense. Hell, hadn’t he been just as upset as I was when I had insisted we both get tested about ten years back? Was that all an act because he knew I wanted to start a family? Had it all been just a dog and pony show to placate me?
I tried to remember. I thought back to when Harold and I had first met...more importantly, our first time. He hadn’t bothered to wear a condom then, either. Sure, I had been on birth control at the time, but I couldn't remember if I had mentioned that to him. He had never seemed remotely nervous about it, either. Hell, I couldn’t remember him ever using protection. Thinking back on it, I didn’t recall ever even seeing either a condom box or wrappers at his old apartment when I used to visit and spend the night.
I had assumed back then that he was just a typical stupid male, but maybe he wasn’t nearly as clueless as I thought.
Come to think of it, aside from whenever I would bring up the subject, I couldn’t recall Harold ever having any interest in the subject of children.
Lying there, naked, and still feeling him dripping out of me, I started to get pissed off.
Okay, okay, calm down, my inner voice tried telling me. I took several deep breaths and attempted to keep things in perspective. Waking Harold up just to bitch him out for being an asshole was potentially counterproductive. For starters, was it really that big of a deal? Sure, there were a few nebulous signs pointing to the asshole having lied to me, but it’s not as if he killed someone, right? Would knowing have changed anything? Probably not. I couldn’t think of any reason why that would have stopped me from marrying him at the time. Sure, it might have put me on the track toward adopting a child. On the other hand, how would that have worked out? If I had still gotten myself killed, that would have left the kid with Harold. Since my memories were insisting that he didn’t want kids to begin with, how would have that possibly been fair to either of them?
I realized I was rationalizing. Some of the debate in my head made sense, but I was fairly sure I was trying to talk myself down for one good reason: fear. What if I called Harold out on these things? What if we had a big blowout? Certainly, we’d had our fair share of fights while I was alive. Some of them had been real humdingers as my mother used to say (hah...still did! Didn’t I talk to Mom just last week in that other place?). Hell, hadn’t there been times when I was sure the only thing keeping me around had been the tool between his legs and his expertise in using it? So what was different now?
That was an easy one...Harold had all the power now. Whereas before, if I left the house in a huff, what happened next was up to me. Now, though? What if I pissed him off and he just decided to stop bringing me back? What if he just left me there? Before that first time, there had been an ignorant bliss about the whole death thing. Sure, on some level I was aware I was dead, but the memories of this world seemed so far away. It was like another life...which, come to think of it, wasn’t too far from the truth. Now, though, I had full remembrance. It would drive me mad to go back there and know it was for good...that I’d never get to feel, touch, or taste again. I’m sure Harold knew that.
But, would he really be asshole enough to punish me for just one argument? I hoped not, but then again I had to remind myself I had been gone for years before he’d figured out how to bring me back. That was a long time...perhaps long enough
to have gotten over me. Well, maybe not entirely, since I was here now, but still...
