Chapter 1

Something was different, thought Molly. Her most recent memories were of waking up in a hospital bed in discomfort and confusion for a few minutes, then easing back into unconsciousness. She had known that one time soon she would never reawaken.

But now, many things were different. It was dark. There was no pain and no confusion. And her physical self was centered in a stiff shaft, dimly connected to a body -- a pelvis? The shaft radiated pleasure and excitement. She could hear grunting in a deep voice and little excited whispers in a higher one. It was hard to escape the conclusion that she was somehow a set of male genitalia, aroused and thrusting, having sex with a woman. A dream, she supposed, but she’d never had a dream like this before. The thrusting got faster, the grunts more intense, and then at once an orgasm flooded her -- a male orgasm, different in feel from the ones she had had, and accompanied by the distinctive sensation of fluid spurting through her penis and out the tip. Her penis? It was very confusing. And then she felt the shaft withdrawing and was aware of herself losing consciousness again.

This time she was a vagina -- a vagina and labia and clitoris, set within a pelvis. Her awareness grew as she felt a stiff penis penetrate deeper within her. This was much more familiar. The penis began surging in and out. “Oh, Susan, that’s great!” came a whisper. “Mmmm,” came a closer voice, familiar even without words. Her daughter Susan and son-in-law John?

“What the heck is going on?” Molly murmured.

“Who’s that?” came a male voice that was more immediate, almost like it was in her head. It too was familiar -- her late husband?

“What?”

“Who are you? Molly?”

“Yeah, Molly,” she said.

“Molly,” sighed a familiar woman’s voice. “So, now you’re dead too.”

“What? Dead? What the hell? Mom?” Her mother Sarah had died many years ago.

“Your mother, yes. It’s all ... Ah, I remember, you’re lost and confused.” She sighed. “You want to explain it, George?”

“Hi, Molly...” Her late husband George. The last decades of their marriage had been time together, some kind moments mixed with lots of boredom and irritation -- more irritation than kindness. He had died five years before Molly’s final illness.

“Better make it quick, John’s going hard now,” said her mother.

“Yeah, OK,” said George. “You’re dead. We’re all dead here. Your afterlife is times when some one of your direct descendants is having sex. Penis-in-vagina intercourse, to be exact. You kind of occupy the sex organs of your descendant and feel what they feel. You hear what’s going on, but they of course have no idea we’re all here listening in.”

Molly felt fingers on her clitoris -- her daughter’s clitoris -- fluttering, increasing her arousal significantly. She had a hunch they were Susan’s own, given how well they were attuned to her pleasure.

“Fuck me hard, John!” came her daughter’s voice. Goodness, what language! John thrust harder, panting.

“I’m surprised your first time awake is with Susan. Adam does a lot more screwing,” said George.

“I guess I was with him once, but I don’t know, I was just so surprised.”

“Yeah, she didn’t say anything, so we didn’t know she was here,” said Sarah. “Pretty common.”

“Looks like this one is wrapping up...” said George.

“Oh, yes, John. Yes, yes, yes!” came Susan’s voice. Susan’s body shuddered with a solid orgasm. Yoked, Molly shuddered too. “Mmmm,” “Aaaahhh,” “Way to go girl,” came voices of other dead, suggesting they had too.

Her son-in-law’s cock got harder inside her daughter and thrust more rapidly and then lunged deep and held still. Molly could feel it twitching faintly, while John whispered, “Oh, fuck, yeah!”

“See y’all later,” said George. “John don’t linger long.” Molly felt the shaft sliding out and her own consciousness fading.

Her awareness grew as “her” penis surged into a vagina. She only had the two children, Susan and Adam, so this must be Adam.

“Feels like Stacy’s pussy,” said George. “You there, Harold?”

“Yeah, it’s us,” came a male voice, but with a different sound. Close but not as close.

Molly said, “So, we get to talk to the ancestors of the partner too?”

“You got it,” said George. “Party of the bride and party of the groom, so to speak.”

“Who’s the new one? Molly?” The voice was Harold, Stacy’s father.

“Yeah,” said George.

“Sorry, Molly,” said Harold. “Your loss, our gain, or something.”

Things had been frosty between the two families once Adam’s infidelity was exposed. He apologized and promised he’d never do it again. But then he did it again. And again.

“Well, sorry again for Adam,” said Molly.

“Hey,” said Harold. “Forget about it. It’s old news.”

“And Jill?”

“Not here yet -- or at least we haven’t heard a peep out of her.”

“Probably not,” said Molly. “I think I would have heard if she’d gone before I did.”

Stacy’s voice came from the living, vibrant world. “Yes, Adam, oh yes, yes, mmmm, yes!” Molly felt a vagina squeeze her penis.

Harold sighed. “You don’t have to try so hard, honey,” he said.

“Huh?” said Molly.

“Stacy fakes her orgasms,” said her mother softly.

“All the time?”

“Well, these past 20 years or so anyway,” said Sarah with a sad laugh.

“So ... how far back does it go? Are ALL our ancestors here?”

“No one knows for sure,” said George. “If you’ve got ten thousand descendants and they’re all fucking like bunnies -- maybe you kind of run out of things to say.”

“Your son fock the lassies proper!” said a voice in a very strangely accented English.

“Who’s he?” said Molly.

“We don’t know. He chimes in from time to time. I think someone figured out the intervening folks once, or most of them, but then got bored and gave up. The ones in between haven’t ever spoken up.”

“And ... granny?” said Molly. “This ... this wasn’t what she was expecting...” Grandma Phyllis was devout and very proper, and thought talk of sex was sinful.

“I’m here,” came her voice. “I’ve gotten used to it. I can’t figure out if this is Heaven or Hell -- a lot better than pits of flame, and it does feel good, I have to confess. A lot better than sex ever did in life. Who knew I’d find my first orgasm in the afterlife. But it’s sure not Heaven either.”

“Aw, give it up,” said Grandpa Malcolm. “You know damned well this is something totally different. Nothing to do with any God we ever heard of. All that praying was for shit.”

“You could be right,” said Phyllis with a small sigh.

There was a lull in the conversation as Adam rowed his cock in and out of Stacy in leisurely fashion, giving a highly pleasing sensation.

A voice spoke in German, from the party of the bride.

“Who’s that?”

“Oh, right, that’s Jill’s father,” said George.

“Wait, I thought I met him at the wedding. He wasn’t German.”

“Nope, turns out Jill’s mommy got knocked up by someone else.”

A new woman spoke, “Like I’ve said a million times, he raped me.”

Harold said, “Hey, we’ll never resolve it.”

“But that guy, he’s the father?”

“That there’s no doubt about,” said George. “This is biological descendants only. Adoption and step-parents and all the rest’s got nothing to do with it.”

“So what about Jill’s father -- I mean the one we all thought was her father?”

“We’re never in touch with him,” said Harold. “He doesn’t show up here, right?”

“Oh, I think I see. So, does Jill know?”

“No,” sighed Jill’s mother. “She’s in for a surprise.”

Harold said, “Fortunately, it’s not a huge deal. She’ll get used to it. We dead folks -- nothing matters so much.”

Molly spoke in German.

“Oh, yeah, she knows German! We can finally learn some stuff!” said Harold.

But the German guy said more or less, “Cool, you speak German, but let’s drop it, OK? I don’t got much to say.”

“You have other kids? I mean, descendants?”

“Yeah, 5 or 6 in all. And some of them actually have fun when they fuck. Like Hans. Woo-hoo!”

Molly didn’t inquire further.

“Where’s dad?” she asked.

“Oh, he doesn’t say much. You know the two girls he had by his first marriage, your half-sisters?”

“Yeah.” Molly knew of their existence but had never met them.

“The older one went from one abusive marriage to another, and the younger one works as a prostitute. So it’s kind of discouraging.”

“Oh ... Oh, I could see that.”

There was a groan and then her father Fred’s voice, very tired: “Hi, Molly. Love you, of course. Hope you enjoy your death. Bye.”