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dyed electric blue hair. You name the combo and Harold either had tried it with me or was probably going to at some point in the future.
    Regardless of how often I came back or in what body, one constant remained: Harold’s cock was always waiting for me. No matter what he did to me, whatever perverse fantasies he lived out, I almost always came in the end. I experienced pleasure through a plethora of alien vaginas, multiple assholes, and mouths without end. Every time it was an erotic mix of new and old. Though the feel of him was always familiar, the various bodies that I inhabited always reacted in slightly different ways.
    Some came easily, while others required far more work - some nearly driving me to exhaustion in the process. Harold tasted somewhat different, depending on the mouth I used to suck him. For some, his cum was salty, others sweet. In one case, her taste buds had been somehow off and I had nearly gagged when he shot his load down my throat.
    Never, though, did I deny him his pleasure, for I knew my own followed. I dare say I became addicted to the sensation. The afterlife - whether heaven, hell, or someplace else - was pleasant enough, but it just couldn’t compare with the earthly delights I experienced. Talking to the souls of even the most heavily missed of friends simply could not hold a candle to how it felt to be filled by Harold’s magnificent manhood. Soon, I began to beg him to try and find a way to bring me back either more often or for longer stretches of time. Sadly, though, it wasn’t to be. According to him, no matter what he tried, three hours was my limit.
    Since that was all I was allowed, I became determined to make good use of the time. All positions were ours to try. Harold earned a good living, thus there was never a shortage of toys to use. I once even tried to convince him to fuck me on the front lawn after dark...why should I care who was watching as long as I was fulfilled? The old me was giving way to the new. Harold and I had satisfied each other sexually while I was alive, but there had always been limits - certain things I refused to do, whether out of fear, shame, or both. The new me shed those inhibitions like a snakeskin. Whatever Harold wanted, I was eager to give him.
    And so it went. Though time had no meaning for me when I wasn’t with him, I began to keep track of our visits. By my count, several months passed. During that time, I experienced orgasms in over a dozen different bodies. In the few instances where his penis wasn’t enough, Harold wasn’t averse to using his tongue for more than talking. I was amazed at how the same man could feel so different depending on whom I inhabited.
    The truth is, it may have gone on like this for years, perhaps even decades, assuming Harold’s surprisingly impressive stamina didn’t finally give out. I, for one, though, craving the feel of being wrapped in (and impaled by) flesh, would have let it go on for an eternity - despite knowing deep down that what we were doing went against the natural order.
    Forget what you think. If there is a God, I never met him. Nor did I ever see Angels flying around me. I never saw Fates weaving any threads, and not once was I given reason to believe that any of a dozen imagined deities were real. Eventually, though, I did become aware of a sense of order in the beyond...order that I was going against in my mortal dalliances. In death, as in life, there are choices. Some of the departed were happy to remain where they were; welcoming friends and family when they left their mortal coils. Others returned to earth as disembodied spirits, to protect and subtlety influence the living. Many more abandoned their sense of self to be reincarnated...hoping that the next life brought them...well, whatever it was they were seeking. I alone, of all the spirits that I had met, chose to do none of this, instead existing for no other purpose than waiting to be summoned again.
    But then, something