0 comments/ 23053 views/ 2 favorites Restarted Pt. 01 By: Spinneret 1. The Thin Man The thin man with the close-cropped hair was already on the park's running track when Delia arrived for her Sunday morning exercise. She'd seen him once or twice before, arriving or leaving as she departed or arrived, but this was the first time that they'd been on the track at the same time, and only now did she realize quite how fast he was. She thought of herself as one of the better runners in that strictly casual setting, but he lapped her twice as she ran her customary two kilometers. Not that she resented this, she decided, as it meant that she twice had a good view of him from behind. He was wearing one of those new microtech running suits -- one of the skin-tight things, doubtless loaded with sophisticated medical monitoring gadgets -- and she decided that his ass, while as free of excess fat as the rest of him, was perfectly proportioned and well worth watching. Then, her distance done, she flopped onto one of the benches in the middle of the loop of the track, and paused to breathe and take in the sun and the birdsong. The thin man finished soon afterward, and chose to sit on the other end of the same bench. At least he had the grace to look winded, she noticed. "You're fast," she said sociably along the length of the bench. "You compete somewhere or something?" He glanced round, seeming surprised to be addressed. "No," he said, "just doctor's orders." "Oh, hey. You've been ill?" "You could say that. Now, they're telling me I need to build up my stamina again." "But you're better now, I hope?" "Yes -- fine, thanks. Well, the hospital still gets to run a few tests, but those are all saying that there's no problem. I'm back where I should be -- but the exercise helps." "Glad to hear it. You do look good on it. I'm Delia, by the way." "Thanks. I'm Edgar." Delia reflected that she didn't know any Edgars. Perhaps it was a traditional name in his family. They chatted for a while about running times and schedules, and then, during a pause in the conversation, Delia squinted along the length of the bench at her new acquaintance, suddenly remembering, first, how she'd had a thing about skinny athletic men in her teenage years, and second, how many weeks it had been since she'd found the time and opportunity to get laid. She decided that today, she was feeling adventurous and not like delaying anything. "Hey," she said, "are you doing much this morning?" Edgar looked startled for a moment, and then thoughtful. "No," he said, "I'm not due for the next checkup until five. Why?" Delia smiled. "I just wondered if you'd like to come back to my place," she said. For a moment, Edgar looked startled, even shocked. But then he smiled broadly. "Sure," he said, "why not?" *** Delia definitely felt curious about the undefined illness which had put Edgar in hospital and which now required continuing tests even though he was clearly well, but asking outright, when he kept skirting round the subject, seemed impolite. In fact, Edgar said little on the short walk back to Delia's apartment, and his few attempts at smalltalk all involved new exercise technologies and running schedules. Delia might have begun to find him boring, except that she noticed that he kept darting glances at her legs or her chest, and she realized that he was gabbling. He was actually nervous! Once she understood that, she began to feel smug; it seemed that her rather blatant offer of sex had produced a dramatic effect on this man. As soon as they entered her apartment, Delia threw her arms around Edgar and pushed her tongue into his mouth. He responded with more excitement, and she felt an instant, promising bulge at his crotch. It suddenly seemed like things might even be going too fast for her to fully enjoy the experience, so she stepped back a pace, smiled, and drew him by one hand into her bedroom, kicking off her running shoes as she went through the door. Edgar did likewise, and then she guided him to the bed, where they knelt facing each other. Delia unfastened her shirt and cast it aside, revealing her running bra (not very erotic, damn it, but she didn't plan for it to be a problem for very long), and then helped Edgar remove the top section of his running suit. (He was actually shaking now.) He was wearing a lightweight under-vest, and she was pleased to notice the low rectangular bulge of a medical implant system on his shoulder, the display showing through the usual patch of transparent synthetic skin. On routine habit, she reached up and gave it the standard three quick taps with a fingernail, causing it to display his general public status message. She was expecting the standard No-Transmissible-Diseases text, but instead something unfamiliar scrolled across the display. She frowned, and leaned forward to read it. Then she gasped, and pulled back. Edgar looked puzzled, but then he realized what she had been doing and seemed almost to fold in on himself, looking crestfallen. "You're... You're Restarted!" Delia blurted out. Edgar nodded. "I thought -- I hoped that you might have guessed," he muttered. "I look it." "How was I supposed to know how Restarted look! It's hardly common!" "Oh yes." Edgar seemed genuinely taken aback by that thought. "With all the privacy laws these days, you don't see people who are fresh out of the process on the news, do you? Well, this is it." Delia stared at him. "How old are you?" she demanded. "Ninety-three." Edgar admitted. "I had my birthday while I was unconscious -- while they were rebuilding my body. But that's just... I'm told that this body is about how I was when I was twenty-five or so. But there's a lot of variation in specific aspects." "Sod specific aspects! Ninety-bloody-three?" Delia continued to stare. "I'm twenty-six! I'm young enough to be your granddaughter!" "Actually, so far as I remember, all my grand-kids are older than that." "So far as you remember? What does that mean?" "It means that my memory is a bit patchy. Don't you know anything about the Restart treatment?" "Not much... It all seems a bit weird to me, and I haven't paid much attention." "Well, it's like this. You can't rebuild the body without rebuilding the brain. Whatever we like to think, they're all tied together. But if you rebuild the brain, you tend to wipe a lot of memories. Memories are much the same as damage, so far as the treatment is concerned. That's one reason why they only take people who can't be helped any other way, who are on the way out -- younger people have too much to lose. Most of us are more or less Alzheimer's cases, truth be told. I was getting pretty hazy before they treated me. I'm still piecing my life back together." "Jesus, this is too weird." Delia realized that she had her arms folded tight across her breasts. Edgar turned away from her and sat on the edge of the bed, looking away from her face. "I'm sorry if I shocked you," he said. "Too weird!" Delia repeated, faintly. "Sorry," Edgar said again. "Look, if... Could you put your shirt back on?" He picked the garment up off the floor and handed it to Delia without looking at her. She grabbed it, bemused, holding it in front of her breasts but not attempting to put it back on. "Don't tell me I've shocked you!" she challenged him. "Not shocked, no. It's just... Look, I said there's a lot of variation, right? That's why I don't have much hair, for example. It's all to do with hormones, and getting the follicles working like they used to is low priority. Even when I do get some more back, it'll still be gray. But the important part is, when they make my body re-grow itself so much, they have to fool it into thinking that I'm, well, still growing. So they re-set the hormones back to adolescence." "So?" "So I get a lot of very adolescent feelings. Looking at you -- like that -- well, it's very distracting." "You're saying that you're feeling like a horny teenager?" "Frankly, yes." "Well, that explains some things, I suppose..." Silence fell between them. Edgar picked up his own discarded garment, but seemed too deflated to work out how to put it on. Delia stared at his back, once again noticing the whipcord muscles. Eventually, she spoke. "Ninety-three, huh? Christ, you must remember the sixties, right? The Beatles, the Rolling Stones the first time round, the moon landings?" "I remember bits of all that. But I'm afraid that I was rather boring. I was never a hippie or anything. I saw the Beatles and Apollo Eleven on TV, I remember that much, but most of what I remember from that time is how I got on in the import-export business. Memory is funny like that, you know?" "Oh." Delia paused, trying to push her thoughts and understanding into shape. "So help me get this clear. You have the body of a twenty-five-year-old athlete, and the hormones of a randy sixteen-year-old. Plus, distinguished silver hair, and, I should say, rather courteous old-fashioned manners, which mean that you aren't actually acting like a randy teenager." "Basically, yes. You've got it. I can see that you would find all that weird." "Weird, yes. But..." Delia took a deep breath, "not shocking, no. I mean, I brought you back here for a reason, and the more I look at you, the more I remember that reason. Now, tell me -- have you had sex since they Restarted you?" "No -- no, I haven't." Edgar looked round, smiling sheepishly. "And not for ten or fifteen years before, I think." "But before that?" "Oh, enough, yes." "So you have a lifetime of experience, and yet this would be pretty much your first time?" "I'm afraid so." Edgar leaned forward, elbows on his knees, with an air of defeat, not picking up any hints of Delia's changed mood. Delia put her shirt aside and leaned against his back. "Sounds rather interesting to me" she whispered in his ear, and began to pull his under-vest up and off. Edgar twisted round and grabbed her, and she remembered what horny sixteen-year-old boys could be like. He was fumbling ineffectively at her running bra, and she suddenly realized that his knowledge of female underwear had to be decades out of date; she reached round to release it and threw it aside, and his face plunged into her breasts. His lips and tongue were on her nipples, leaving trails of cool saliva while his breath was hot. After a moment, Delia lifted his head away -- needing to push somewhat to do so -- and smiled at him. Then, she reached down and wriggled out of her running shorts and her panties together. Edgar reacted predictably but pleasingly to that, pushing his own trousers down his legs to expose a rampant erection, its tip glistening moistly. Delia wondered absently how much the doctors had reconstructed that, whether she was seeing exactly what other women had seen seventy years ago, but then, with his trousers still around his ankles, Edgar was on top of her. She was just barely able to reach down, parting her cunt lips and guiding him in, before he pushed furiously. She gasped, and he began pounding like, well, a teenage boy who's suddenly got lucky; she felt his balls against her ass, and could have sworn that she felt them shift and tighten the moment before he exploded into a volcanic orgasm, accompanied by groans of pleasure. Almost at once afterward, he deflated and rolled off her. She grabbed for a box of tissues on the bedside table, realizing that her cunt was overflowing with his outpourings. "God," he said, and she realized that he was almost crying, "god, I'm sorry. That was terrible." Delia paused for a moment to recover her breath before replying. Then, "No," she said, "no, from what you said, it was utterly predictable. From what I remember about teenage boys, you actually lasted rather well." Edgar rolled over to look at her. "Thanks," he said, "but still, I was hardly fair to you." "Don't worry," Delia insisted. "After all, I remember something else about teenage boys." "What's that?" "You'll see, I'm sure," Delia replied, and then rose from the bed to fetch glasses of water for them both. As she crossed the room, still naked, she took care to roll her hips a little. By the time she was lying next to Edgar again, he was staring in startled admiration at his own cock, which was already growing tumescent again. "There, you see," said Delia, absently caressing his smooth chest, "totally predictable." Edgar put his water glass down hard and reached for her. Again, he buried his face in her breasts, but this time, he set to work more methodically, kissing and tonguing. Delia felt her nipples swell in response, and smiled, then carefully lifted his face away and began kissing it in return. From there, she worked her way down his throat and chest, pausing to work on his nipples -- men usually responded well to that, in her experience -- before continuing down his belly toward his resurgent cock as he slumped back on the bed. Teasingly, she worked her way round that, kissing his hips and the inside of his thighs before pausing and then gently brushing his balls with her lips. Only as Edgar groaned and clawed at the sheets with frustration did she give him what he wanted, running her lips and the tip of her tongue along the length of his cock, catching the musky smell of his semen and her cunt juices from minutes before. She kissed the glistening tip before looking up to throw him a theatrical wink. Then, she worked her mouth up his torso again, pausing to brush his erection with her breasts, until she was face to face with him. "Now," she said, pushing him down with both hands on his chest as she reared up above him, "where were we?" She grabbed his once-again-rigid cock to guide it, moved her cunt lips over it, and sat down hard. Edgar howled in pleasure, his eyes screwed up, and his hips bucked beneath her. But this was the second time, and he evidently wanted to pleasure her. He paused, and began to move carefully, steadily, as he traced his hands up her flanks to caress her breasts. No, she had to be honest with herself -- he was groping her breasts. His resurgent adolescent urges were still working fine. But hell, she decided that she liked this sometimes; it was nice to know that her chest could induce grabby lust in a good-looking man. She raised her own arms, locking her hands together behind her head to pull her chest up for maximum effect, and then let go, pounding furiously atop Edgar as he rammed himself into her again and again. She let out several yelps -- Yes! Yes! Yes! - and Edgar responded with guttural grunts, lost deep in the fucking. But he was trying hard to control himself, so he didn't spend himself too soon. Eventually, Delia leaned forward over him, pushing down hard with her cunt, until she came with a last Yes! Then she looked down at him with a smile, to see him staring back at her with an intensity that verged on the frightening. Abruptly, he threw her over onto her back, rolling over on top of her and thrusting furiously for a few seconds, until she felt his cock pulse within her, and she felt the warm gush of his orgasm. Delia slumped back on the bed as Edgar rolled away. She realized that her pussy was throbbing, and she was breathing deeply as she looked at Edgar. "Not bad," she said, "I guess all that experience really does count." "Actually," Edgar said, "you're only the third woman I've ever slept with." Delia frowned, then laughed. "Oh, you are so out of date. 'Slept with' indeed. I don't notice either of us sleeping." "So people don't say that any more?" "Sometimes -- but it means that they're, well, sleeping together. It implies some kind of long-term commitment." "Sorry, I didn't mean to presume. So what should I say?" "Fucked will do nicely, you poor old-fashioned boy. Very nicely, actually." She giggled at Edgar's look of worry at the bluntness. "Anyway, what do you mean, only the third? I didn't think that you were that old." "And you've got the usual funny idea about the sixties, I'm guessing." Edgar propped himself up on an elbow. "The sexual revolution and all that. Well, believe me, the sexual revolution took years to reach my part of the world. Doctors wouldn't give the pill to unmarried women. It was all very un-revolutionary there, believe me." "Wow." Edgar took a deep breath and galloped on. "So I had one brief, rather screwed-up affair with a married woman who wanted young meat, and then I got married myself. And that was that." "You remember all that, I notice." "Some things stay with you." Delia smiled at him across the pillow. "Well, third time lucky, I hope." Edgar smiled wanly, and Delia wondered what he was thinking. Perhaps there were things about the Restarted that she still had to learn. [Part 2 will follow shortly!] Restarted Pt. 02 2. The Ash-Blonde Woman Edgar and Delia lay side by side and naked. Again and again, Delia found her gaze running up and down Edgar's nearly hairless body, admiring those youthful muscles. Her hand brushed his cock, limp now but not small. "You are a pretty good fuck" she said. "Thanks," Edgar said. "I think that I really needed... That was a great way to start back over." "So what happens next?" Delia asked. "I mean -- I'm happy for this to be a one-off, if you like. I must seem quite weird to you, after all." "Is that what you want?" "No! Well, not really. I'm not pretending that this was love or anything, that's all. You have a great ass, and I wanted you, and the rest of you turned out not to be so bad either. I'd love to do this again. But you were right, I don't know much about being Restarted. I mean, what do you think about us youngsters? What's the normal way things go between you and people like me?" "There is no normal way." Edgar sighed. "This is all very new for everyone, you know. And I'm still putting my mind back together. I'm making this us as I go along!" "So we just carry on for now?" Delia smiled. "Perhaps. But there are -- other things I've learned." "How do you mean?" Edgar sighed, and then reached for his clothes. "Come on," he said, "there's someone I want you to meet." Delia quickly showered and dressed in casual clothes, then followed Edgar willingly, although he had turned silent now. He led her through the relatively quiet Sunday-midday streets to the plain building that she'd barely previously registered when she'd passed it, although a sign on the gate made its function as a specialist hospital quite plain. He waved a pass at the receptionist, and then signed Delia in as a guest; the receptionist was too briskly efficient to show any signs of curiosity as to the young woman's interest there. Then Edgar took Delia along plain, well-let corridors to a side room, entering after knocking on the door briefly. The room had one occupant, a slim, young-looking woman with ash-blonde hair and brown eyes, clad in a plain tunic and a long skirt, sitting in an armchair next to the hospital bed. The woman looked up when they entered, and smiled politely. "Oh, hello," she said "it's Edgar, isn't it? Who's this, a new friend?" "Hello Ann" said Edgar. "Yes, this is Delia. Delia, this is Ann." Ann stood up, and Delia shook her hand, and looked as carefully as seemed polite at her smooth, flawless skin. Feminine curves aside, and she had some, Ann had a little more body fat than Edgar, but not much. "Forgive me," Delia said, "but I gather that you're Restored too." "Yes -- isn't it marvelous what they can do these days? A whole new life! I've been reading about the world, and deciding what I want to do." She gestured at a heap of magazines and books. "Excuse us a moment," Edgar said, and drew Delia out of the room. "She seems nice," said Delia. "A bit vague, though. Did they have to wipe a lot of her memory?" "In a way. Most of it was already gone, I'm afraid. She was an early case -- a bit of an experiment, really; they risked it with her because she had so little to lose. You're right; she doesn't remember much. For example..." he paused "What?" Delia stared at him. "She doesn't remember me. Which does feel weird, as you put it, because we were married for sixty years." Delia gasped. "God!" she said, then drew breath. Edgar smiled wryly. "Yes. Actually, legally speaking, we're still married. The law hasn't caught up with this sort of thing, I suppose." He paused. "And now, I'm afraid that I have shocked you." "Wow. I don't know. It is weird, isn't it?" "Weird is barely the word. I don't know how to talk to her. Our family has been scared witless by the whole thing, and don't come to see either of us -- I can't blame them, our own kids are nice retired people who look too old to be our parents -- so I'm stuck here trying to work out what to do. You helped me a lot this morning, but I won't blame you if you leave things here. This sort of thing isn't your problem." Delia shook her head. "It is weird," she said, "but I guess it's fascinating too, and I like helping people." She smirked a little at that, then pushed that chain of thought aside. "Now. Can we talk to her some more?" "Of course. She likes visitors. She's very bright, I should say -- she always was. She's just still collecting stuff to be bright about. Come on." He reopened the door to the room. Delia and Edgar sat on upright chairs opposite Ann as she talked about the books she'd been reading -- travelogues and popular science stuff, as it turned out, and she did indeed seem bright enough to understand everything -- and then as she asked about Delia, who talked a little about her job. Then Delia decided to risk a question of her own. "Do you get out of here much?" she asked. "Oh yes, sometimes." Ann laughed. "They couldn't stop me -- I'm a legal adult, you know, and perfectly healthy -- but I'm still learning enough to get around safely on my own. I like going for walks when one of the therapists or nurses has got time to go with me." Delia nodded. "Perhaps you'd like to go out this afternoon, with us? We could have lunch somewhere, together." Out of the corner of her eye, Delia saw Edgar tense a little at that. She guessed that he found dealing with Ann confusing and a little distressing, naturally enough, but lacking his emotional baggage, she liked the woman, and did feel an urge to help her. "I'd love that!" Ann almost sprang to her feet, and Delia smiled. And so Edgar went and changed into ordinary clothes, and then the three of them strolled out of the hospital, and went for lunch at one of Delia's favorite cafes. There, Ann fell on a three-course lunch with enthusiasm, trying tastes from the other two's plates during every course. It was clear that she was experiencing the world anew, and enjoying every moment. Afterward, as they took a stroll, Ann announced that she didn't want to return to the hospital immediately. "I don't have to very soon, you know" she said. "They hardly bother with tests any more. There's nothing for them to find." Delia smiled at her. "What would you like to do?" she asked. "You know," said Ann, "I'd like to see where you live. I don't think that I've seen an ordinary home in -- well, forever, so far as I remember. The hospital is fine, but I'd like to think that I can visit friends and just talk." Delia smiled. "My place is small, and a mess" she said. "I think that makes it better" said Ann. And so they returned to Delia's apartment, where Delia made coffee and then returned to the sitting room to discover that Edgar, who'd been subdued during Ann's bursts of enthusiasm and slightly squeezed out of the conversation, had now thawed enough to chat with Ann about other people at the hospital and generalities about exercise. Delia gave them their coffees and sat at the other end of her sofa from Ann, while Edgar sat in an armchair. Ann looked from Delia to Edgar and back. "By the way," she asked, "are you two having sex?" Delia spilled her coffee, and Edgar put his down and froze solid, gripping the arms of his chair. Delia remembered that it was his wife of sixty years asking that question. "Oh, I'm sorry" said Ann, "was that rude? I'm still getting the hang of what's polite and what isn't -- it seems that what I do remember is out of date anyway." "It was a bit -- upfront" Delia replied. "Sorry" Ann repeated. "I was just curious, you know? I know that I must have had sex myself, once upon a time, and it's another thing that I'd like to try again, some time. I'm just trying to get the etiquette right, and to discover how to talk about it." Delia mopped up the spillage -- there wasn't much, and she had tissues to hand, fortunately, and shook her head. "That's a complicated subject" she said, and took another drink of the remaining coffee to buy time. "But I'm all in favor of honesty myself, so --" here she stared at Edgar, whose expression was that of a deer caught in a car's headlight beam "-- yes, Edgar and I have had sex." "Oh, that's good" Ann smiled. "Was he good at it, my dear?" "Yes," said Delia, reminding herself how little of this situation Ann could understand. "You don't have to worry; being Restored leaves you just fine in bed." "Good" Ann repeated, drinking more coffee. But she was evidently unwilling to let the subject go. "I suppose that being so healthy must help. Though they haven't given me much of a figure back, have they? I think that I used to have more curves than this. And men do seem to like that, so far as I remember." "I wouldn't worry too much" Delia replied. "Plenty of men like slim and athletic." Ann smiled. "That's nice to hear" she said. "As to etiquette these days, well" Delia smiled back at her. "A lot of it is the same as ever, I think. But there is one thing you might not know. You've got a medical implant system, right?" "Oh, that thing" said Ann, rubbing her shoulder. "Yes. Well, they must have told you that if you tap it three times, it shows what they call your general public status -- the things that you don't mind someone else knowing about you. Well, one thing that shows is that you're healthy -- assuming that you are, and you certainly are. It'll also say that your contraceptive system is turned on. It's considered polite to let someone see that before things go to far." Ann looked interested, and pulled the shoulder of her loose-fitting tunic aside, revealing the implant display. (But no bra strap, Delia was amused to notice. Evidently that slim, toned, youthful body had definite advantages.) Absently, illustrating the principle, Delia reached over and performed the standard gesture, and watched the same sort of display as she'd seen on Edgar's system a few hours before. Ann squinted, but couldn't seen the display properly, and after a moment, Delia loosened her top and showed Ann the same trick on her own system. "Thank you" said Ann, "that's very interesting, and I'm glad to see that you're quite healthy too. But I hope that this doesn't mean that we have to have sex now." It took Delia a split second to realize that Ann was displaying a dry sense of humor, but then she laughed. "No," she said, "no obligations." "Good. Not that I find you unattractive, mind you; you're very pretty, and I like that. But I understand that it would be impolite to Edgar..." But Ann didn't finish that sentence, as Edgar jumped up and bolted from the room. Delia, who'd been startled herself, stood up and followed him with a muttered apology. She sound Edgar in the kitchen, staring out of the window. "I take it that this is, well, unprecedented?" she asked. Edgar looked around. "It certainly is" he said. "Ann was always quite straight-laced. I got the feeling that she could understand what made another woman attractive -- she had a good eye for lots of things -- but..." "No signs of bisexual or lesbian tendencies?" "Quite. I guess it's having to rebuild her mind these days. She sees everything as possible, and she probably wants to try all sorts of things." "Good for her!" Edgar looked up, and Delia grinned. "I'm in favor of trying things myself. Don't complain at that -- remember that I tried a ninety-three-year old man earlier today." "That's true." Edgar smirked at the memory. "Right. So I suggest that we get back in there and help her work this thing out." "What do you mean?" "If she wants to try things, I'm happy to help her -- provided that you join in." Edgar gawped. "Are you proposing to seduce my wife?" he hissed. "Partly. Actually, though, I mostly want to help you seduce your wife. I don't think that I'll have to do much for myself." "What? What the hell do you think you're on about?" "Look, Edgar," Delia raised her hands, palm outwards, in what she hoped was a gesture of calm. "You were married to that woman in there for sixty years, great -- but now everything had been Restarted. Literally. I don't know what happens next, and nor do you. Maybe, once you've got used to the idea that you need to get to know her all over again, you'll be happily married again for another sixty years. Or maybe you'll both go your own ways and she'll, oh, end up touring the European orgy scene while you start a new career. Whatever turns out to work, I guess. But right now, she's clearly hot to go, and she needs to get the hang of sex again -- and you're the person least likely to take advantage of her while she's learning, right? I'll join in, because she's discovered this bi-curious streak -- but I get the feeling that, if we don't do something, she'll start going for walks on her own and picking up rough trade somewhere. This is safer." "So you're doing this as a favor?" "Well, that, and the fact that the pair of you are totally fucking hot. So let's get back there and help your sweet amnesiac Ann work out what she likes, okay? And try to look happy while you're being fucked by two eager women, please." Edgar didn't argue, although Delia wasn't sure if that because he was speechless. Ann was still sitting on the sofa when they returned to the sitting room, and she launched into a string of apologies the moment Delia and Edgar arrived. But Delia walked over and placed a finger to her lips in a deliberate gesture. "Don't worry," she said. "You're coming across as a bit brash, but it's not a problem. Now," Delia sat down again, and Edgar followed suit, "as you've said what you've said, I have to ask -- does this mean that you fancy just women, or women and men, or what?" "Oh, both!" Suddenly Ann sounded quite girlish. Then she caught herself. "But I'm sorry -- what must you and Edgar think of me?" "Actually, if I know men, Edgar will be quite happy to think about this" Delia muttered. "What do you mean?" Ann asked. "Oh, it's just the big standard male fantasy. Twice as many women, no male competition, and them coming along to show both the girls what they really need." "Oh. I see." Ann looked thoughtful. "And does that work? Do we need them like that?" "Occasionally." Delia found herself caught up in a flood of memories. "Cock is nice. I'm mostly hetero, and I have to admit, for me, cock is really nice. But there are a lot of other things that are good too..." She was interrupted by a wordless gurgling sound from Edgar, but she just smiled at that and carried on. "But I'm getting the impression that you really want to try this for yourself, right?" Ann looked away at that, and blushed; Delia realized that the Restart hadn't entirely stripped her of reserve. "Yes. I do like the idea of sex. But it's so difficult to know where to start." Delia stood up and took Ann by both hands. "Well, you know what they say" she said. "There's no time like the present. We'll show you what to do." Ann beamed at that. "Really?" she asked, "you'll help me?" "Certainly. Between you and me, you're sexy as hell, and it isn't going to feel like helping." Ann stood up and hugged Delia, who led her through to the bedroom. Edgar trailed along behind, clearly the least certain of the three, and stood in the doorway as Delia turned to Ann again and kissed her full on the lips. Ann murmured happily, and ran her hands tentatively over Delia's back. Delia reached down, grasping the hem of Ann's tunic, and drew it up and away. Ann's breasts were indeed quite small, but neat and pert as a teenager model's; Delia held Ann at arm's length to look at them, then leaned forward to kiss both of her nipples in turn. "Yes," said Ann, "that is nice." Delia guided her to the bed, then helped her shed her flat-soled shoes, her shapeless skirt, and the plain panties that she wore underneath. Ann wasn't paralyzed, but it seemed that she wanted guidance at every stage. More -- she was thoroughly enjoying the feeling of being guided. Delia stood back to begin stripping off her own clothes as Ann sat on the bed, and suddenly Edgar was beside her, clumsily undressing himself. Delia reminded herself that he did have the hormones of a teenager, and put a hand on his shoulder. "Just kiss her for a moment," she said, "then we'll show her something." Edgar obeyed, applying his tongue to Ann's throat and belly, making her pale nipples pucker up with his eager tongue, enthusiastically running his hands along her thighs as Ann murmured Good over and over again. This gave Delia time to finish stripping off, and she threw herself on the bed beside Ann, her dark hair and the complexion she'd inherited from her Asian mother making a contrast to Ann's porcelain perfection. "Now," she said, "a demonstration first. Watch this closely, Ann -- there'll be a test later." Ann smiled, looking directly at Edgar's crotch. "I'm watching," she said, then "Is that what you mean by 'cock'?" "It sure is" Delia replied. She grabbed Edgar by the arm and hip and pulled him to her. He was rampantly hard again, but fortunately she was already wet with expectation herself. She guided him into her, locked her legs around his thighs, and began rocking back and forth. Once again, his hormones took over, but he held back for just long enough that she was able to reach orgasm herself, gasping with pleasure in the immediate wake of Edgar's noisy climax. Edgar slumped on top of her, and she looked at Ann again. "There, see?" she said, "The basics are very easy." Ann smiled. "I hope that you haven't used him up" she said. "I don't think so. The doctors did a very good job on you people, you know. But anyway, while he recovers -- it does take a moment -- there are things we can be doing." Edgar rolled off her on the other side, and Delia leaned over Ann, running a hand over her face and shoulders, and then her breasts and stomach. "You're gorgeous" she breathed, "this is really an honor." And then her hand moved further down, and Ann looked concerned for a moment, and then smiled. For a short time, Delia caressed Ann's thighs and hips, and Edgar took the opportunity to move round the bed and lie on the other side of Ann, watching the process. Stealing a quick glance, Delia noted that this girl-on-girl show was already having the desired effect on him -- but that was something to exploit later. Delia's fingers caressed Ann's cunt, carefully probing; she felt the other woman gasp and writhe as she teased her body. Then she moved on, letting her thumb work on Ann's clitoris as her fingers probed and opened. But something felt wrong, too resistant, and she frowned as she traced kisses over Ann's perfect pale stomach. Suddenly, the truth came to her, and she gasped. "Good god, she's a virgin!" Edgar stared at Delia across Ann's surging breasts, then scowled. "Of course she would be," he muttered, "they rebuild your whole body." "Oh," said Ann, "what's the problem?" "Before you have sex for the first time, your cunt is, well, partly closed off. The first time has to tear through. It can hurt a bit. Just for a moment." "Oh dear" said Ann. "Well, never mind..." "No, no worries" Delia said, "but we all want this to be good for you, so let's get you nice and relaxed and ready." She twisted round and rummaged in the second draw of her bedside cabinet. "Here we are" she said with a pleased smirk, turning back with what she'd found. "What's that?" Ann asked. "It's what they call a vibrator." Delia tapped the switch, and the toy hummed gently into life, ripples moving along its soft plastic shaft. "Now, just lie back..." She traced the sex toy on its slowest setting over Ann's neat breasts and smooth stomach, and then moved it over her pubic mound and into the entrance to her cunt. Physical virgin or not, Ann was wetly ready, and for some minutes, Delia eased the rounded, pulsing tip of the toy back and forth, opening the way a little more each time. By now, both she and Edgar were kissing Ann's breasts, taking turns to tease her nipples into ever greater response, and Ann was lying back as commanded, unspeaking, breathing deeply. Restarted Pt. 02 Delia pushed the vibrator in deep, simultaneously brushing the control that increased its speed. Ann gasped and moaned for a second, but then her hands both grasped at the device, pushing Delia aside. She curled up around it, whimpering as she moved it inside herself, and then squealed in what was unmistakeably an orgasm. Then she threw herself back on the bed, arms wide. "Yes" she said. "Yes, that is good." "Actually, it's just a start" said Delia, putting the vibrator aside. "You're good and stretched now, so Edgar? I think this is your part of the job. You seem to be ready again." Edgar needed little prompting, and clambered between Ann's thighs. Ann and Delia guided him a little, and Ann moaned briefly as his cock drove through the last remnants of her renewed hymen, but the careful slow approach had prepared her well. The couple kissed, hard, and then Edgar raised himself above her as Delia ran a casual hand down his back. Edgar thrust steadily into Ann, maintaining a regular rhythm now as she stared up at his face with a happy smile. Then, she frowned a little. "Do you know" she said, "I do believe that I remember you from somewhere?" There was a pause, and then Delia giggled uncontrollably as Edgar frowned too, then smiled at Ann. "Perhaps you do" he said. Ann shrugged, and reached down to clasp his ass. "Anyway, this is good... Oh god yes, that is right..." Edgar resumed thrusting, and Delia kissed his shoulder and nibbled his ear. "Slow," she whispered, "careful. You're doing this for her, remember." But Ann didn't need much more; a ruddy flush was spreading across the pale skin of her face and breasts, and her breaths grew shorted and louder, turning to gasps. Her second orgasm of her new life continued for longer than the first, although she didn't moan as much this time; still, her reaction clearly had an effect on Edgar, who thrust and gasped his way to his own climax. Edgar lay on top of Ann, but he was still inside her. God, thought Delia, he does have stamina. Now, he began to move rhythmically again. As he did so, Ann looked at Delia. "What's -- ahh -- this all -- ahh -- called?" she asked. Delia frowned. "What, sex?" she replied. "Well that's -- ahh -- the word for -- ahh -- the whole business -- aaaaahh -- but I'm sure that there are -- ahh -- words for the specific act." "Can't you remember them?" Delia asked. "Not -- ahh -- really. And the hospital -- ahh -- control what -- ahh -- we read and see -- ahh. I think that -- ahh -- they're worried -- ahh -- that we'll go -- ahh -- crazy..." "Well" Delia said, "there's intercourse, or copulation, or penetration..." "Those sound -- ahh -- a bit -- ahh -- medical..." "Oh well, I guess that you can call it fucking. Or screwing. Or shagging, if you want to sound like a teenager." "Fuck-ing." Ann rolled the word round her mouth. "I think -- ahh -- I like -- ahh -- fucking." I think that you do, reflected Delia. Then, she realized that Ann would have other embarrassing gaps in her vocabulary, and began tracing her hand over the other woman's body, talking as she did so. "These -- your breasts -- people have all sorts of words for them, men especially, but 'tits' will usually do. And Edgar's cock -- call it his prick if you prefer -- that's inside your pussy, your cunt..." Having one woman talking dirty while another fucked him with wild but innocent enthusiasm had an effect on Edgar, who began to thrust harder. Delia placed a hand on his chest in a gesture of restraint. "Easy, boy," she said, "she's still learning." She slipped off the bed and stood beside it. "Now," she said, "roll over, the pair of you -- yes, that's it..." The move took a moment, but both Edgar and Ann were limber and responsive. "Now, Ann, lift yourself -- yes, kneel like that. Now, rotate your hips gently. Edgar -- like what you're seeing?" By way of reply, Edgar reached up to fondle Ann with both hands. "Yes," he said, "and they're lovely tits." Ann giggled, then looked down at her pussy, and touched it tentatively with one finger. "Oh, yes," she said, "that's the center of it all, isn't it?" Ann got back onto the bed, straddling Edgar's legs behind Ann, and reached round. With one hand, she caressed and supported Ann's breasts, making sure that Edgar's pseudo-adolescent clumsiness didn't leave them feeling uncomfortable; with the other, she reached down and fondled Ann's pussy and the base of Edgar's cock. Ann's perfect buttocks ground against Delia's own pussy. "Yes," she whispered in Ann's ear, "that's it." Seconds later, Ann reached another, noisy climax, throwing her hands behind herself to grasp Delia and pull her closer. This proved more than enough for Edgar, who came himself with a yell of release. Then the three lovers collapsed on the bed in a tangle, and lay gasping for breath. As Edgar and Delia reclined on the bed on either side of her, Ann sat upright, and then twisted round so that she was on all fours. Then she began kissing each of them, frenziedly. "Thank you thank you thank you," she garbled out. "I really do like fucking!" Her way of showing thanks was unpracticed to the point of clumsiness, but she made up for that in enthusiasm. She smothered Edgar's torso in kisses, and then switched to Delia, who brushed her face with the back of her hand. "Yes, well," she said, "if you're feeling like that, there's something more for you to learn. Yes, move down a bit -- now, you see that?" Ann looked up. "Your -- cunt, did you say?" "That's it. Now, it responds very nicely to gentle touches, as you'll find, and your tongue can be just right. In the center, just above the lips -- yes, that's the clitoris, call it the clit for short..." Ann was still an eager student, and within minutes, she was applying herself quite skillfully to Delia's pussy, which throbbed and grew damp. Meanwhile, Edgar had moved around to stand behind Ann, where moving down Delia had caused her to clamber partly off the bed and put her feet on the floor. Grasping and raising her hips , he eased his renewed erection once more into her, and seconds after Delia had gasped her way to climax, he began thrusting hard, effectively pushing Ann face up Delia's body. She kissed Delia's belly and breasts along the way, and then the two women met mouth to mouth once more. Delia wasn't sure if this position would stimulate Ann well enough, but evidently the sheer excitement was sufficient, and Ann reached orgasm even before the eager Edgar. After a few minutes, Edgar staggered off to the bathroom, and while he was gone, Ann smiled at Delia across the pillow. "I want to say thanks" she said. "I keep telling you, we've enjoyed it..." Delia began, but Ann interrupted her. "Not for me -- for Edgar." Ann said. "What do you mean?" "You've evidently given him a very good new start. He's a great deal more interesting than he was before." "Before what?" "Before all this Restart business, of course." Delia gasped. "I thought that you couldn't remember that" she said. "Oh, I can't remember much. Just snippets. Scenes. I didn't know Edgar at all when I first met him, that was true. But over time, when I saw him again around the hospital, I began to think that he was the man in some of my memories. Him fucking me just now just confirmed that." "Why didn't you say anything before?" Ann sighed. "Because I didn't want him to feel obliged -- to start treating me as his wife again. For both our sakes." "That was noble of you." "Noble? Believe me, my dear -- I just couldn't face the idea of going back to where we used to be. I can't remember all the sixty years, but it feels like sixty years. I loved Edgar, once upon a time, I'm sure, but he could be a dreadful bore. You've improved him greatly." "I've only known him since this morning!" "We're very impressionable, we Restarted. You reintroduced him to sex -- and believe me, of all the boring things with Edgar, I believe that the sex was the most tedious. I do remember his face above me, you know. And all that I can think when I remember that is another Saturday night." Delia tried to reply, then just giggled. "Oh well," she said, "you can see how he turns out now, and you can walk away if you want, if there's anything you like better." "Maybe" said Ann, "or perhaps I'll just do what I feel like at the time. For example, I might visit you here -- without Edgar. If that would be alright with you." "That'd be fine. Though I think that you're like me -- you really want men most." "Oh, probably. But perhaps we can find more men between us." Delia smiled wolfishly. "I'm sure that we can. Which reminds me -- are there any other Restarted you know who need help?"