Maximilian (M) - an old man gaining a second chance

A/N: tags that will be included in the story are MF, MFF+, harem, oral, anal, light exhibitionism, light BDSM, group sex. Tags that will definitely NOT be included are NTR, humiliation, hard BDSM, ****/****, pregnancy, watersports/scat.

**************************

Maximilian knew it was his time to go.

The hospice bed was surrounded by his children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren. Only his wife was missing. He had come to terms with her **** years ago.

Maximilian tried to take in his surroundings, though he was too tired to move his head. A plump nurse adjusted his IV drip, and he felt content and relaxed as the medical monitor beeped steadily, the smell of antiseptic sharp in his nose.

I never climbed the mountains, he thought, but raising a family is just as good.

A teary-eyed granddaughter dabbed his brow. As his descendants gathered closer, he croaked out a few whispered words of reassurance before his eyes closed for the last time.

He was so tired. But at least the pain was gone. Maximilian drifted into darkness.

“Max!”

Maximilian flinched as the voice pierced his hazy consciousness.

“Max!”

Something soft and damp pressed against his face, and he was overwhelmed by how strange his body felt. Then realization struck — it was grass. He hadn’t felt grass against his skin in years.

“Max, by all the Infernal realms, what are you doing here? Get up already!”

Strong hands grabbed him and hauled him upright. Maximilian blinked as warm sunlight flooded his vision. With the stranger’s help, he got to his feet.

The young man before him was barely of age — coppery hair, bright eyes, white robes. They stood on a dew-drenched field, a courtyard of some sort. Maximilian looked around in wonder and saw he was dressed the same. A great stone statue of a man raising his hands toward the sky towered over them, surrounded by whitewashed buildings. The sunlight felt warm and impossibly real on his face.

“Come now, Max, we’re going to be late,” the young man said, ushering him forward.

“Why are you—” Maximilian stopped. His voice was light, unfamiliar. Young. Before he could say more, the lad half-pushed, half-dragged him toward one of the buildings.

He barely noticed the group of young women — girls, really — in identical white robes, giggling as they looked his way.

“Listen, I know things have been rough lately what with your parents and all,” the youth said, still guiding him. “But you’ve got to snap out of it. Sleeping out in the courtyard? Come on.”

“If you need to talk, see me after classes. We’ll talk like old times,” he added as they reached their destination — an auditorium.

The two slipped into the back row just as a lecturer entered from a side door. The gaggle of giggling girls hurried in after them, taking their seats near the front.

As the lecture began, Maximilian finally had a moment to think. He wasn’t in the hospice — that much was certain..