The Transgression Solutions

"Got a question for you," she said.

"What's that?"

"What are you doing with our great-granddaughter?" she asked, as she gripped his balls very precisely with her fingertips, her neat fingernails digging slightly into the flesh.

"Ow ... oh," he murmured, staring carefully at what she was doing. "You guessed, then?"

"You're no actor, my dear," she said. "I see the way that you two look at each other. And maybe it was my imagination, but there was a distinct waft of sex in the air when I got back to the apartment last night."

"Okay," Edgar admitted, "we're sleeping together."

"Not the modern term, I gather," Ann pointed out with an odd smile.

"Okay, I'm ... we're fucking."

Ann's hold on his genitals didn't relax, but nor did it grow any more painful. "And how is she?" she asked.

"Pardon?"

"Charlotte. What's she like in bed?"

"Oh. She's fine."

"Fine? Is that what you wanted when you got into something that weird?"

"She's pretty good, okay? Enthusiastic. Throws herself into it."

Ann smiled thoughtfully, then suddenly let go of Edgar. "Well, that's okay then," she said. "I'm sure that you can teach her something."

"What?" said the startled Edgar, as Ann got off the bed.

"You know your stuff these days," said Ann, and threw off her robe with a quick motion, leaving herself naked. "If you'd forgotten anything, or never known it, I think that your grateful divorcees have brought you back up to speed." She knelt on the bed and teased Edgar's erection with a single fingertip. "You're pretty good, really," she added, then suddenly turned and grasped his face with both hands and drew it towards her groin. "Remind me what you know," she commanded.

Edgar moved a little to bring his mouth into play, then set to work. His tongue probed Ann's cunt, finding a way between the lips, and she gasped softly and wriggled her hips slightly. He worked steadily for a few minutes while she held herself in quivering tension, then suddenly she gasped, not quite orgasmically.

"Damn," she said, "you know what I need." She pushed Edgar flat, straddled him, and grabbed his erection. Then she placed its tip between her cunt lips and sank down on it. They both drew deep breaths.

"Damn," Ann said again. "I never... I don't think I ever knew how good this could be, back the first time round."

"Well, now you do," Edgar said, moving his hips.

"God, yes," said Ann, closing her eyes. "Deeper, lover."

Edgar obeyed, pushing his hips up from the bed so that every millimetre of his cock was deep inside Ann. Within moments, she sighed, gasped, and slumped on top of him.

"That turned you on, didn't it?" Edgar asked, continuing to move his hips in small, regular thrusts. "The idea of me fucking Charlotte."

"The idea of fucking turns me on," Ann replied, looking him in the eye. "The thought of your cock is nice. Damn it, you know about me and that."

"Hard not to," said Edgar, but then became increasingly distracted. Seconds later, Ann felt him pulse inside her. She lifted herself away after a few more moments, and wriggled her hips with satisfaction.

"Okay," she said, looking down at him as she stood beside the bed. "Take care, and have fun."

***

"God," said Leslie. "You people are so ... twentieth century."

"Are we? I didn't think so," Ann said. "Anyway, why so hostile to the idea? I thought that was your specialist period," Ann replied.

"It is. Doesn't mean that I have to approve of it. There was so much done wrong. So much selfishness. So many stupid decisions."

"Isn't that true of every time in history?" Ann asked. "It's certainly true of the present."

"Yes, of course it is," Leslie said. "I know that -- I'm not an idiot. But looking at your period, I get to study all the ugly details."

Ann smiled at him. "Yes, well, I probably would have agreed with you about a lot of that, at the time. You're right that a lot of people were going in for transgression, and actually, I didn't approve of that then. From what I remember, I was quite straight-laced. But somehow, now, I find I want to try it."

"You know," said Leslie, "the funny thing is, I wondered before I met you whether you'd be typical of that period in any way. But it's more complicated than that, isn't it?"

"Of course it is," Ann almost snapped. Then she looked thoughtfully at Leslie. "I bet that it was your idea to come and visit us, wasn't it?"

Leslie sighed. "Yes," he admitted. "I mean, Charlotte was feeling a bit guilty about how your family is holding off from you so much -- she didn't take much encouragement -- but I -- well, the idea of talking to somebody who lived through parts of the last century... Okay, I was fascinated."

"And you got two people who can't remember much, and your girlfriend left you for one of them."

Leslie grunted angrily.

"Sorry about that," Ann said.

"And how do you feel about all this?" Leslie challenged Ann.

"Actually, I'm fine," Ann replied calmly. "I keep telling you -- I'm catching up on some transgression, remember? And frankly, this is being good for Edgar."

"Good for him?"

"Yes, really." Ann gazed at Leslie. "Look," she went on, "Edgar has been having his share of fun since we left the hospital, but these last couple of months, the women he's been bringing home have all been in their forties -- fifties, maybe, some of them. Perfectly nice, all of them, and I'm sure they've been fine in bed, but you could see that they were all terribly pleased with themselves at getting someone who looked half their age."

"So?"

"So Edgar seemed to be treating them as his type. And the women haven't been the only thing... Look, you've heard of older men trying to recapture their youth, right? Chasing young women, buying fast cars, all that nonsense?"

"Yes."

"Well, Edgar was turning into a young man who was trying to recapture his old age. Watching old films, listening to old music, buying clothes that look like they came from the 80s ... He's been turning into, what's the word, an old fogey. I was beginning to worry about him."

"But now..."

"Now, he's sleeping with a woman who matches his physical age -- and with a touch of incest to keep him shocked with himself. I prefer him this way."

"And what would the old you have thought of all this?"

"From what I can remember about her, she'd have been shocked." Ann shrugged. "From her point of view, Edgar and I are behaving like stupid horny teenagers. She really, really didn't think much of transgression, if that's what you mean. But you know..."

"What?"

"That's the point. All I could say to the old me is something very rude and unkind."

"And Edgar feels the same?"

"I don't know what Edgar feels about the old him. I haven't asked." She smiled, suddenly more wolfish and less controlled than Leslie had seen her before. "But I know how he seems to feel when he's in bed with Charlotte. He's let me look at some recordings from the cameras in his room."

"Oh, really!"

"Transgression, dear boy. Voyeurism is just another part of it. And transgression seems to suit Charlotte, too. I'm afraid that this seems to have been her idea, from everything that Edgar's told me."

"He's just justifying himself!"

"Maybe. But I think he's telling me the truth."

***

Ten minutes after Charlotte arrived at the apartment for her third visit, she kissed Edgar hard on the mouth. When she eventually broke away, he looked stunned, but before he could find words to protest, she kissed him again.

"This is crazy," he eventually managed.

"Yes," Charlotte said. "You complaining?"

"Yes!" he said. "You're my..."

"Cousin," she interrupted. "Think of it that way, if you really want. Me, I just think you're someone makes me horny. God, there's something about this, about you..." She grabbed him and squirmed up against him. "How do I make you feel?" she asked.

"And Leslie?" Edgar asked, ignoring her question.

"Oh, fuck him," Charlotte said. "Come on. This is your bedroom, isn't it?" She more or less dragged him through the door.

Edgar looked like he wanted to speak, but couldn't find words. Instead, he let Charlotte kiss him again, responding more with each moment, then simply stood and watched as she began to strip off.

"Good lord," said Edgar, gazing at Charlotte's naked breasts. A series of blue and white images -- something like waves from a Japanese woodblock print -- were chasing across them in animated motion.

"Oh, that," said Charlotte, looking down with the air of someone who'd almost forgotten something. "Display tattoo. I had that done a couple of years ago. It was a fad back then. Silly, really."

"It's... sorry, but I'm amazed... Am I showing my age?" Edgar asked sheepishly.

"Maybe a bit," Charlotte laughed. "Actually, it's programmable. Just a second, I've got something else set up." She fiddled with what Edgar had thought was just a simple bangle on her left wrist, and the image on her breasts changed. Edgar gasped "Like it?" Charlotte asked. The skin of her breasts was now a pale cream colour, marked only by a collection of randomly moving lines of text, in different sizes but all in the same ornate handwriting script. Each line said the same thing.

Fuck me great-grandfather. Fuck me great-grandfather. Fuck me great-grandfather...

Edgar leaned forward as if to look more closely, but then suddenly placed a series of kisses on Charlotte's nipples.

"Mmm," she said appreciatively. "I thought that you liked them. You kept sneaking glances."

"Did I?" said Edgar, glancing up at her face.

"Yes. You did. But I didn't mind."

"Good," he said, looking at the moving text again. "Cousin?" he murmured.

Charlotte sighed. "Just fuck me," she said, kicking off her shoes and then removing the fashionable asymmetric skirt she was wearing, then her socks and panties. Edgar had paused for a second, but he quickly followed her example.

They stood naked and facing each other, and then each reached out and tapped the other's implant three times.

"Okay," said Charlotte, "you are ninety-four."

"And you aren't," Edgar said, and took her in her arms, finally initiating a kiss himself. Charlotte felt his erection swelling as he pressed against her, and reached round with both hands to clasp his buttocks, digging her nails in just hard enough to make his gasp. He responded by grasping her buttocks and squeezing for a moment. Then he broke the embrace, looked at her thoughtfully for a moment, then suddenly pushed her backwards.

She gasped as she fell backwards onto the bed, then giggled and opened her thighs wide. He knelt between them, and she sat up enough that she could reach forward and grasp his erection. She drew it to her cunt, then made a soft welcoming noise. He responded by pushing deep into her.

She gasped again, then clamped her legs around him, and began rocking back and forth, murmuring "fuck ... fuck ... fuck" as she did so. He in turned let himself slump forward, freeing his hands to grasp her breasts as she pressed against him.

"You like them?" she said, glancing down, "hold on..." With a twist and a push from one leg, she rolled both of them over, then rose above him so that he could reach up and fondle her breasts freely. Fuck me great-grandfather continued to scroll across her skin beneath his palms.

"God -- oh god," he murmured.

"What's up?" she asked, continuing to wriggle her hips.

"Great boobs," he gasped.

She laughed. "Skinny Ann not enough for you?" she asked.

"Not her fault," he said, and raised himself to take one of her erect nipples into his mouth. His tongue set to work on it.

"Fuck!" she yelled suddenly, and almost went limp. He took his mouth from her breast and looked up at her face.

"What's up?" he asked.

"Nothing," she said with a laugh. "God, that was good."

"Still is," he said, lying back while continuing to fondle her breasts almost roughly, with both hands. His thrusts became slow but deep and hard, and after a while he gave a wordless cry and relaxed.

"So," Charlotte said, leaning forward to look Edgar in the eye, "proud of your family?"

"Very," he said.

"Good," she said, and rolled off him. As he recovered his breath, she tinkered with her bracelet again. Now, a list of names in a plain font began scrolling upwards on her torso and breasts; Edgar didn't recognise any of them, until he saw Leslie's -- and then, a few lines later, his own, last of all.

"What's that?" he asked.

"My list, of course," Charlotte replied.

"Christ. You want to be careful with that."

"I'm careful," she said. "But anyway -- did you like them?"

"Like what?"

"My boobs, of course."

"Yeah! I mean, yes. I said so. They're gorgeous."

"Good," Charlotte said, and wriggled down to press those breasts against Edgar's crotch. "They have their uses." She used her hands to press her breasts together, with Edgar's half-erect cock between them. He gasped very softly, but she seemed to be concentrating on what she was doing, which was deft and skilled enough that his erection soon began to recover.

"Oh, good," she said when he was hard again, and raised herself onto her knees. "They do work." Another touch on her bracelet, and the skin with her tattoo changed again. Now, it showed an explicit line drawing in 18th-century style of a couple having sex, the view showing the man's outsize erection half-way into his partner. After a few seconds, the words FUCK ME appeared across the image in pink lettering, and began blinking slowly.

Edgar made a wordless growl in his throat and began to sit up. But Charlotte pushed him backwards, crawled forward, and then suddenly twisted round, putting herself astride him with her back to him. Then she grabbed his cock, and quickly impaled herself on him again.

Now he sat up, grabbed her breasts by reaching round her from behind, and began to wriggle his hips, driving himself deeper into her. She reached down with both hands, using one to caress her own clitoris and the other to cup and fondle his testicles. She began gasping rhythmically, driving herself towards an unrestrained orgasm, which came with a last loud gasp. At that, Edgar pushed up into her hard and deep, clutching convulsively at her breasts, then collapsed backwards onto the bed.

"Nice balls," she said, grinning back at him past her shoulder.

***

"Okay," said Leslie, staring at his feet as he sat on the park bench. "So what now?"

Ann looked at him, and decided that he suddenly looked diminished. "That'd be up to you, wouldn't it?" she said. "Assuming that you don't really want to make trouble for everyone -- well, it things may be over between you and Charlotte, but I'm sure that you've got a life to get on with. I'm sorry that you won't get much history from talking to me, but if you like, I'll introduce you to a few more Restart patients at the clinic. Some of them have a bit more memory than me -- or than Edgar, for that matter."

"I'd like that, actually. Thanks." Leslie sounded genuinely interested. "If it's no trouble."

"Oh, no trouble at all. Come on, let's take a walk."

"To the clinic? I mean, I'd need to pick up..."

"Oh, that can come later," Ann interrupted. "Let's just talk a bit more."

***

A little over an hour later, they arrived together at the apartment. Ann led Leslie directly into her own room, and once they were there, he looked at her uncertainly. She ignored that, put her arms around his neck, and kissed him on the mouth.

"Look," he said, once he was able to speak again, "I still don't know..."

"I do," Ann said. "You wanted to get to know someone Restarted, and I'm happy to help. In the biblical sense of know."

"But why?"

"Because ... oh good grief, it's really very simple. All that stuff about transgression is just theory. The fact is, I've found that I like cock. And I'm sure that yours is fine." She smiled cheerfully and began trying to remove his clothes. "Maybe I seem disgraceful to you, but you'll get some consolation fucking out of it, and I promise that Restarted bodies are good for this."

She released her hold on him, stepped back, and stripped her clothes off with practised speed. He followed her example more slowly, and she smiled as she saw him gazing at her body. She leaned forward slightly, moved his unbuttoned shirt aside, and gently tapped his medical implant display three times, then smiled again as it showed a standard healthy display. Then, as Leslie seemed immobilised, she briskly triggered the same display on her own implant.

"God..." he said softly, simply staring at her body.

"What is it, lover?"

"Tell me," he said, struggling a little with his shirt, "when did you lose your virginity?"

"I could say it was a few months ago," Ann replied, "in a friend's home. It feels that way, really. But I suppose that you'd say it was seventy-four years ago. In a hotel, I think. The funny thing was, it was to Edgar both times."

"He's been very lucky," Leslie said, dropping his pants and kicking them aside..

"Oh, now that's really sweet of you to say," Ann said, kneeling and then going on all fours in front of him. "Not that virginity is up to much. Experience is better. Still, for being so sweet..."

She leaned forward to engulf his half-erect cock with her mouth, grasped the base, and began performing lengthy fellatio. He sighed as his erection grew large, hard, and upright in Ann's mouth, until she sat back with a distinct smirk. "Right," she said, "lie down."

Leslie obeyed, and Ann lay beside him, toying with his erection with the fingertips of one hand as he fondled her breasts. "That's nice," he said.

"I agree," said Ann, then rolled over, opened a small box on her bedside table, and extracted something from it. "Actually," she said, "you could say that I lost my virginity to one of these, the second time around. With the help of a good friend. And Edgar." She looked thoughtfully at the vibrator which she was now holding. "Another thing I think that I never tried for my first ninety years. Stupid of me. Though I gather that they're much cleverer than they used to be. Voice controlled, self-lubricating..." She smiled faintly, then holding the vibrator like a microphone, she murmured "Start" to it. The device began buzzing, and Ann traced it over her nipples. "Mmm," she said happily.

Leslie reached out a hand, ran it down her belly, and then began fondling Ann's pussy. She opened her legs a little way, and he began probing her cunt with first one finger, then two. She sighed once, then a second time as he teased her clitoris with his thumb. She moved the vibrator down to the same area, and competed with him for access for a moment. Then he removed his hand, and she probed her own cunt for a second or two with the vibrator as he placed himself between her open thighs. Then she moved it out of the way as he found his way into her, sliding in gently, a centimetre at a time.

"Fuck," Leslie murmured softly, as his balls finally came into contact with her buttocks.

"Yes, lover," Ann said beneath him. "You're having a woman from the twentieth century." She smiled at him. "Perhaps I should have worn some flowers in my hair, or spiked it and worn a stud through my nose. Is that what you wanted? A hippie, or a punk?"

"How about an old Generation Y-er?"

"Pardon?"

"Nothing. Bad joke." Leslie muttered. Ann was still holding the vibrator, and he gasped appreciatively as she traced it down his spine. He gave a series of slow, steady thrusts, holding himself above her and looking down as she looked at him.

"Yes, lover," she said, "this is history. You're inside it."

Leslie began to sigh softly, then gasped, as Ann slid the tip of the vibrator between his buttocks.