Bhuddist Do-over
Copyright© 2026 by Duncan Mickloud
Chapter 27: Poor Hannah
Time Travel Sex Story: Chapter 27: Poor Hannah - A novel-length do-over about a man born in 1955: he lived until 2038. A retired Buddhist monk befriended Mason and caused strange things to happen. Mace died normally, only to wake up at age 13 with all of his old memories. But he's not living his life over. Everything is really different. He's on a parallel planet with a completely different history and bizarre morals. It is the polar opposite of feminism. Succinctly stated: it's a fun romp. 33 chapters. Slow start.
Caution: This Time Travel Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa mt/ft Ma/ft mt/Fa Coercion Consensual Rags To Riches Restart DoOver Time Travel Incest Mother Son Brother Sister Anal Sex Analingus First Massage Masturbation Oral Sex Petting Pregnancy Safe Sex Voyeurism Hairy Size Small Breasts
I went up to our room and gathered the four girls left for this week: Hannah, Isla, Leah, and Maisie. Emma and Caroline had already gone to the crèche.
I asked the four girls who had licenses and found out Maisie has a full driver’s license. I had her drive the car and follow me so I could turn in my scooter. After turning it in, I drove us from the bike rental back to the house. Moving in was easy; I had my backpack, and each girl had a duffel bag.
I gathered all six of them, including the housekeepers, in the living room.
I said, “I am a nudist; everybody needs to strip. This is one of my house rules.
I continued, “Do any of you want to lose all the hair below your neck? You will always be more comfortable; you will have no more itching, rashes, or cuts from a razor.”
I got nods all around.
“If you do want to lose that unwanted, uncomfortable hair, all of you stand in a semi-circle. I will only have to do this one time. Hold something in front of your heads so I can only see the hair from your necks down. I only want to do this one time.”
I quickly stripped off myself. My cock was sticking straight up and hard as could be, thinking of six buck nekkid teenage girls. The thought of seeing six naked sets of titties and cunnys was awe-inspiring.
A few minutes later, the girls had towels and draped them over their heads.
I said, “Remember, girls, legs wide apart.”
I sat on the floor, so I was looking up. I said,” Tellenia-ha, “ to remove all six teens’ pubic hair and stubble from their fronts. I just looked from each denuded cunny to the next.
I got up and went to the girls. From one end to the other, I fondled their soft bare pussies and armpits. I still think of them as pussies. I dragged a wet finger across each slit, making sure there were no hidden hairs, or so I told them.
I made sure to trail my hands slowly over their breasts as I finished feeling their armpits. I palmed their breasts. As I withdrew my hands, I closed my fingers, drawing back, trailing them so that I squeezed their nipples softly. I used my fingertips to pinch lightly to see their nipples harden. They all wiggled as I went over them.
I said, “Alright girls, turn around and lean over. I will do the back areas in case you have any hair around your bums or the back of your calves. Put your hands above your knees and spread wide so I don’t miss one teeny-tiny little hair.”
I said,” Tellenia-ha, “ again and just enjoyed the view.
I had six teenage girls bent over, presenting their naked bums and slits from behind. I could look at this view all month long. With their legs wide apart, I could narrowly see their inner lips. What a picture, denuded teenage pussies. Their pussies are young and demure. Goodness gracious! I have each of their horny scents wafting through the air.
Boy, did I want to poke my pecker into each and every one of them.
After each one had looked back at what I was doing and saw I was really enjoying looking at their pussies. I got slowly up and walked down the line rubbing a wet finger through each of their cunnies from behind this time. I covered each of their titties from behind as I rubbed their slits and used “ Chookxa “ to give each girl a good, hard climax. I pulled each into a standing position as they climaxed - one at a time.
I then walked back down the line, getting a good feel for their sweet little asses.
I went around front to play more with their titties. I softly said, “Yummy, tasty, or sweet,” as I suckled each girl’s teats.
I realized each girl had cum, each one! They are all able to, which is a good thing.
I then stood back and said, “What’s for supper, Honey?”
Angeni, looking at my angry red cock, shook her head dazedly and slowly said, “Tacos. Sarah will have to help me get them together.”
They were all looking at my cock like hungry ravens look at a trapped squirrel.
I followed the two house girls into the kitchen. They put on aprons to protect their bodies. A big pot of ground meat with onions and little bits of red chilies sat, slow-burbling on the stove. It was warm and smelled delicious. Another pot had melted cheese. They took two bowls from the fridge: one with chopped lettuce and the other with diced tomato.
Sarah quickly sliced and diced a fresh onion.
I stood there and watched as they put together a plate of five large tacos for me. The tacos were in the oven, keeping warm. They gave me a beer from the fridge. I went into the adjoining dining room and sat at the table to dig in.
What surprised me was that the quite large taco shells had been deep-fried. They kept them in the oven to stay warm and crispy. Deep-frying the shells made them swell out in places. They looked bubbly from the process. It made the tacos delicious and crunchy.
I said, “These are the best freekin’ tacos ever!”
I read the label on my beer. It said it was bottled under license from Grupo Modelo in Jacksonville. I found it to be a dark, tasty beer, slightly cloudy and full of delicious grain goodness. This had been my favorite beer to pair with Mexican food in my last lifetime. Oh damn, but it’s good. It’s Modelo Negra.
My nose has made my mouth water in anticipation.
The taco shells are larger than normal, even for a large-size taco; they had to be 8 inches long. Deep-frying the shells made them taste SO damn good. The shells are mottled where they bubbled out during frying. Hell, I could eat a plate of just the bubbly-looking shells.
They brought the fixings to the table and showed the other girls how to make tacos.
They started by loading the bottom with 3/4 inches of ground meat, onion, and bits of red chilies. They layered on shredded lettuce and diced tomato.
Then they poured a thick covering of liquid cheese on top. The thick, gooey cheese kept things from falling out of the shell. The cheese has chopped tomatoes and a few bits of green chilies. The tacos are a veritable cornucopia of delicious flavors.
I started, “Angeni...”
She said, “I hand-made the large-size shells. My family prefers big shells. My mother is Mexican, and my father met her in Mexico City. He worked for the RONA attaché as security there; he’s white.”
She gave me a brief on her background because I hadn’t seen a place that sold Mexican food.
I said, “So your magic comes from your father?”
She said, “No, from my mother. She was an indigenous woman from south of Mexico City. She’s a witch, just not a powerful one.”
I said, “So you can cook any Mexican-style food?”
She said, “If I can find the ingredients, then yes. A local Puerto Rican food Bodega carries some things like masa, the dough I used. I can make things like tamales, burritos, and enchiladas easily enough. Those are some common restaurant foods in Mexico. Oh, I make Tortas too.”
My mouth watered over that last statement. A Torta is a rich barbecue sandwich with thick slices of avocado and mayo. I wondered if the Puerto Rican Bodega had mayonnaise. I had not seen any mayo here so far.
I said, “You need to make Tortas and fried plantains soon. That sounds delicious.”
She looked surprised at what I said.
After a pause, she started again, “I went to cooking school here, and the College of Magic paid for me to attend for one year. I learned how to cook American-style foods.”
I said, “How old are you, dear?”
“I’m 14. My father indentured me to the Association a year ago after my mother died.”
I said, “What about you, Sarah. Tell me about yourself.”
She said, “I am the eighth and last daughter in my family. My parents are in their 50s, and they indentured me to the College. I am 16. I was taught housekeeping, how to keep records, and how to buy things for the home. Oh, and I was taught how to be a chauffeur.”
I said, “You helped Angeni put supper together that quickly?”
She said, “Yes. We have been friends and were roommates for a year.”
I asked, “Are you rooming together here?”
Sarah answered, “We are in the servants’ room that is next to the big bedroom, your room. They did not classify our room as a bedroom. It’s pretty small, and the door looks like a narrow closet door in the hallway. We have a back door that opens into the ladies’ walk-in closet in the big bedroom.”
She went on, “Uhm, we have been sleeping in the big bed as the previous servants did. Did we do wrong sleeping in your bed?”
I shrugged. I had not thought about it yet.
She continued, “Margret, one of the previous cooks, said they had slept there as ‘foot warmers’ for the owners. This used to be a nude adults-only sex oriented health resort. People were naked here most of the year around. That’s why it has a special big heater so people could be naked in wintertime here.”
I chuckled to myself. That is precisely why I got the place for a song and a dance. This, in a way, was a house of ill repute.’
I asked, “So, you two girls want to be my foot warmers? Well, I won’t object, but please realize when I am up here, my main task is to get six girls pregnant each week for the college.”
All the chairs we sat on had washable braided pads. So this almost proves it had been a nude resort. The porches are wide open and good for nude sunbathing. The only thing missing for a really good resort was a large swimming pool and a privacy fence.
Maybe I’ll put them in next spring.
I thought of Breeze Clarkenton, Windy’s mom. She has a pool with a tall privacy fence around her house and yard. I wonder how she’s doing. It’s probably too soon for her to tell if she’s pregnant, or even if she has any symptoms yet.
It got quiet as we each dug into the delicious tacos. I had talked with taco in my mouth several times. I wasn’t going to let these things get cold. I finally finished my five mega- sized tacos.
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