Gene Polanski, Male, 45

	- Business VP, husband of Tamara, father of Lauren, Finch, and Logan

	- tanned beige skin, 6'1, 210lbs, short peppered grey-black hair

Tamara Khouri-Polanski, Female, 43

	- Professor, wife of Gene, mother of Lauren, Finch, and Logan

	- dark olive skin, 5'6, 150lbs, shoulder-length curly rich brown hair with natural red highlights

Lauren Khouri-Polanski, Female, 15

	- High school freshman, daughter of Gene and Tamara, sister of Finch and Logan

	- medium olive skin, 5'8, 150lbs, back-length curly black-brown hair, colored white-streaked highlights

Finch Khouri-Polanski, Male, 14

	- Eigth-grader, son of Gene and Tamara, brother of Lauren and Logan

	- dark olive skin, 5'6, 145lbs, ear-length curly rich brown hair with natural red highlights

Logan Khouri-Polanski, Male, 12

	- Sixth-grader, son of Gene and Tamara, brother of Lauren and Finch

	- medium olive skin, 5'1, 110lbs, ear-length straight black hair

Holly, Female, 19

	- Agent of Marker 1, Sister of Anna

	- Bronze-tanned skin, 5'1, 100lbs, straight shoulder-length straw-blonde hair

Hannah, Female, 15

	- daughter of Dr. Henderson and Juliana, twin sister of Georges

	- Dark beige skin, 5'10, 160lbs, long dark-brown hair in a ponytail

Hannigan, Male, late-30s

	- Former agent of M1 and Playa Gordo

	- Pale, freckled skin, 5'11, 185lbs, short sandy-red hair

Georges, Male, 15

	- son of Dr. Henderson and Juliana, twin brother of Hannah

	- Dark beige skin, 5'10, 165lbs, mousy dark-brown hair

Charlotte, Female, early-40s

	- Agent at Oasis

	- Pale skin, 5'5, 115lbs, shoulder-length dark-red hair

Jesus, Male, 40s

	- M1 Agent

	- Black skin, 6'1, 210lbs, dark-brown hair in cornrows and braids

Hilda, Female, 40s-60s

	- Former colleague of Hannigan

	- Pale olive skin, 5'6, 125lbs, shoulder-length dark-brown hair

“Jesus is back.” Anna's voice called out to him, no sign of the vulnerable, passionate woman who'd shared a bed with Gene an hour earlier. “Let's go meet him on the pad.”

He rose from where he was studying lines of code, sat aside the coffee he'd been sipping, and followed the short blonde through the corridors and back above ground. The helicopter pad was a small, unmarked concrete area on the South end of the complex. Aside from a tattered orange windsock, there was nothing more to signify its purpose. A solid black, medium-sized helicopter sat on the pad, blades slowly rotating and winding down. Gene covered his face with the thin cloth he'd been given by Anna, and waited with her a couple dozen yards away.

The wind and blowing sand settled and a figure stepped out of the bird. He was right out of Magnum P.I, a loosely-closed red and orange Hawaiian shirt over a pair of cutoff blue jean shorts that looked ratty and worn. He wore oversized aviator shades and his hair was tightly bundled in cornrows on top and ran into braids down his back. His black skin was matched by the black sandals on his feet.

He approached quickly, threw his arms wide, “Anna!” He drew out her name as they shared a tight hug, kissing her cheek, then looking at Gene, arm around Anna's shoulder. “You're him, then?”

Anna moved a foot away from the man, smiled, said, “this is him. Gene, meet Jesus.”

Jesus ignored Gene's outstretched hand and gave him as strong an embrace as he'd given Anna. “Pleasure, my friend,” he said, then kissed Gene's cheek.

Anna interjected, “shall we get out of this sand? I'm gritty already.”

Jesus nodded, let go of Gene, then followed Anna down into the bunkers. Gene trailed behind shaking his head.

Inside, Anna led them to the large relaxation area and poured three tall glasses of bourbon. After handing them to Gene and Jesus, she said, “so you secured a bird.”

“Wasn't easy. Took me three hours to strip out the tracers and beacons in it. Should have Charlotte give it another once-over to be sure I missed nothing.”

“I'm sure you were thorough.” Anna sipped her drink, said, “but in these times, never hurts to have a second set of hands on things.” She shared a look with Jesus and his hand slid down her thigh.

Jesus turned back to Gene, said, “you're not what I expected.”

Gene eyed him, replied, “the feeling is mutual.”

Jesus laughed, pulled at his shirt, hairy chest displayed openly, and said, “oh, this? It's my disguise. My business shirt is blue and has dolphins on it.”

Gene shook his head, laughed. “So... what exactly is it you do?”

“Finger on the pulse.”

“Come again?”

“When people say M1 has a finger on the pulse, they mean me, generally speaking. I'm the cog in the wheel. I know shit that I don't even know I know.”

Anna smiled, “I certainly hope so.”

“Easy, Snowflake. The shrooms are just starting to kick in, no messing with my ego until it dissolves.”

“Seriously?”

“Completely. Glad I got the bird down before the trails really started.”

“Jesus Christ,” Anna cursed.

“In the flesh.”

She stood up, patted his head, and motioned Gene to follow her.

Jesus called after them, “later, dudes.” He already seemed to be melting into the couch.

- - -

His sister's panicked attempt to push Georges off her and slam her thighs together was not fast enough to hide the glob of semen which drooled out of the fifteen-year old's pussy before her genitals were hidden from Finch's eyes. The fourteen-year old felt the universe slow down for him, Lauren's dark labia splayed open as Georges' penis slid out, his creamy cum slowly following. In all the world, he'd never seen a more interesting sight. Finch's pants were tented before Lauren's legs came together. She snatched her clothes and held them in front of her, skin red and glistening with sweat.

“This place does that to people,” Hannah said with a wicked grin.

While Lauren looked mortified and tried desperately to pull her clothes on without revealing her naked body, Georges replied, “sorry, we got carried away. Was my fault...” He didn't look apologetic to Finch. The boy's penis continued to throb, leaking sperm, while the brothers and and his twin sister looked on.

“Well... anyway, we've got a picnic, bet you two are hungry after that.”

Georges jumped into his clothes and was seated on the blanket by the time Lauren had adjusted her own. She'd said nothing, avoided Finch's curious glances. He was so hard it hurt, and twice he reached down to adjust his cock. His brother simply stared, slack-jawed, as Lauren sunk down onto the edge of the blanket and away from everyone. A wet spot slowly spread through the crotch of her light blue pants.

Hannah and Georges picked up the conversation as if nothing had happened. They talked about what it was like to live on the farm, the wildlife, pointed to where they could fish and hike nearby, how they like to skinny dip when the weather was warm. While they munched, Hannah managed to settle closer to Finch, had her leg touching his, smiling his way a time or two.

Finch's hormones were raging and he was certain again he was in love. Out of sight of the others, Hannah's arm moved lightly onto his back and touched him gently, nothing much, but it was everything to a horny fourteen-year old. She smiled at him again and pulled her hand away.

Whatever this was, love or something else, Finch was hooked on Hannah despite the way he relived seeing Lauren's messy pussy over and over in his mind.

- - -

“Sorry about that. Never got the hang of people.” Hilda sat facing Tamara and Hannigan in the low-light of two half-burned candles in the small dining area of her cabin. She'd led Tamara through woods and along property lines for almost two hours before they'd gotten there, saying nothing and keeping her automatic held in that grey area between threatening and rest.

She'd intercepted Hannigan when he was about to pick the market door, sent him ahead while she went to collect Tamara. By the time they arrived to join him, he'd made a beef soup and dished out big bowls of the steaming meal.

Hilda looked wooden, despite the occasional odd grin. Her mannerisms said she spent a lot of time not thinking about what other people might make of her. “Really didn't mean to scare you. Just wanted to get back here quickly.”

“It's fine,” said Tamara, not completely fine.

“Why this? You could have left me a mark, let us know where to meet you.” Hannigan shoveled another spoonful of soup into his mouth.

“Couldn't. Well, didn't want to take chances, really. Lot has changed since the last time you were through here, Marcus, too many people know those marks, now.”

Tamara's eye raised. “Marcus?”

“Yeah, that's my first name. No one but Hilda calls me that, though.”

“Marcus and I go way back. I was in M1 long before he arrived, left before he did.” Tamara was completely unable to place her age. She could have been forty or sixty. The camouflage paint on her face didn't help. “Worked together a while in Cambodia, Russia, elsewhere. Haven't seen him in a couple of years, though. Glad he's come around.” She eyed Tamara flatly, “hope you aren't bringing something well-armed to my doorstep.”

Hannigan dropped the spoon into the empty bowl, “I don't know... but we should expect that's the case.” Hilda held her flat expression as Hannigan explained the situation. “I didn't have anyone else to turn to. We're out of cash, and the only option we have is going to be tough to reach. To boot, I'm starting to doubt Afghanistan is the right place to go.”

“Well, shit,” was all Hilda said for a moment, contemplating his words. “Been in this cabin on and off for almost twenty years, and wholly here the last five. Sounds like I just got compromised.”

Hannigan looked sunken. “I'm really sorry, Hilda. Really. I wasn't thinking about what it meant to you to bring her here. I shouldn't have.”

Hilda waved her hand, “it's done. Apology accepted.” She cast a flat smile in his direction. “Besides, I'm pretty sure I still owe you after you pulled my ass out of the fire on the Korean border.”

Hannigan tilted his head, returned a weak smile. “That was the worst train ride, ever.”

“So what do we do?” Tamara cut in, feeling weary and in need of direction.

“Should be ok here tonight,” Hilda replied, “I've got a few ideas. Problem is... See, I never trusted Victor, and I left M1 over that. Seems I was right to do so. I burned more than a few bridges over there, so the thought of trying to contact anyone from M1 has me cringing. Wish old Bridgewater was still alive. That man always knew what to do in any situation.”

Hannigan looked thoughtful, “Bridgewater... Yeah, can't forget that name. Never worked with him directly, but the tales they told... if even half of it was true, Bridgewater was a god among men. I hear rumor that his daughters are as good as he was.”

“What happened to him?” Tamara asked as she finished her soup and let out a small belch.

“Killed in Armenia. Saved a hundred lives all by himself. They dragged his corpse through the streets. Pretty well known that Anna and Holly burned those guys to the ground they were so angry.”

“Wait... did you say 'Holly'?”

Hilda replied, “Bridgewater's daughter... youngest.”

“I met her! That's the young blonde that helped us escape and got us to Victor's. She's Victor's granddaughter.”

Hannigan nodded. “Gotta wonder where her loyalties are right now. She was deep into Victor's shit game, seriously hope we don't run into her or Anna. Those two are dangerous. Don't let that blonde hair fool you, they're sharp and they'll kill you faster than you can spit.”

“She saved my family... beyond that... I don't know...” Tamara felt the fear again, the moments of rushed flight, gunfire, explosions, the separation from her husband at Victor's compound. “Got anything to drink?”

Hilda watched her without expression. “Suspect you're needing something stronger than coffee.” She stood, reached into the cabinet, pulled out a dusty bottle half-filled with a dark liquid, rinsed it in the sink. “Never knew what it was, and it tastes like dog piss. But it does the trick.” She poured them all glasses, tossed in a couple of ice cubes, and slammed half of hers before Tamara could even lift the glass.

Fire raced from her lips to her gut and Tamara nearly choked on the vapors. Still, despite the sour flavor, it burned nicely going down and it took no time at all for her to finish it and look toward the bottle for seconds.

- - -

“Mom should be back with groceries, she'll need some help.” Georges looked down at his sister and smiled, turned to Lauren, said, “want to come with?”

The girl nodded, had said nothing since the others had caught her fucking the tall, handsome teen. She stood as Hannah repacked the basket and handed it to her brother. Logan watched the two walk into the trees and disappear in the shadowy foliage.

The three sat on the blanket, Hannah's grin never fading. “So... what do you two do for fun?”

Logan shook his head, unsure how to answer.

Finch spoke up, “nothing lately. We've... we've been running for weeks. None of it has been fun. None of it.”

“Oh, come on. Gotta be something to keep you sane. Masturbating a lot?”

Finch's face became red as he sputtered, “wh—what? Uh... no...”

“Bullshit. Don't worry, it's normal. Everyone does it.”

Logan asked, “everyone? Even you?”

Hannah giggled, “sure. Everyone. I bet even your sister does.”

The boys were silent, Logan's mind racing with memories of seeing his sister's hairy genitals wet and sticky. She'd been doing just that.

“Anyway...” she looked toward Finch, “want to wrestle?”

“Huh?” the fourteen-year old exclaimed.

“Wrestle. I'm pretty good at it. I beat Georges all the time. Come on, I'll show you how.”

The dark-haired girl got onto her feet and pulled Finch to his while Logan watched.

“Start like this. Put your hands on my shoulders, and when I say 'go' try to pin me down.” Finch looked very nervous, but Logan was certainly interested in where things might go. Maybe he'll pull her shirt off accidentally. I want to see Hannah's boobs!

The twelve-year old watched as his brother and Hannah grappled a moment before she flipped him over and pinned him, arms held down, her body straddling his. She looked triumphant. “Again!” she cried.

They restarted, this time, she pulled Finch close before sending him crashing to the ground on his stomach, her leg locked around his. “Again!”

Finch tried harder this time, but ended up on his back once more, Hannah again straddling his hips. She held still a moment, sweat on her brow. Her hips wiggled a bit and Finch stared up at her. Whatever was going on, Logan felt his cock rising.

Hannah looked down at Finch, shifting her hips back and forth. “Are you letting me win? I think you like this.”

“N—no... uh...”

The tall girl purred, tilted her ass down on him and wiggled against him. “I'm thinking you do... hee...”

Slowly she rose off him and helped Finch to his feet. “So...” She eyed Logan with a grin, looked back to Finch. “I'll show mine if you show me yours.”

Logan liked where this was going.

- - -

Gene stood motionless with Holly beside him, no longer surprised by anything he saw anymore. Charlotte was naked, the pale-skinned woman bouncing up and down on Jesus's lap, his face unfocused and his mouth slack, panting. He kept repeating, “fuck yes, fuck yes, fuck yes” as the woman rode him.

Holly purred beside Gene, smacked his ass. “Get in there, Gene. She has two holes.”

He shook off his stare and replied, “what? No... no...”

Charlotte turned, flung her dark-red hair to the side, and saw them standing in the doorway, smiled, tilted her head in an invitation, never stopped bouncing on the black man's cock.

“Go for it, Gene. I'm a bit sore or I'd ride that ride myself. Seriously... how many chances like this do you get?”

He hesitated. His immediate response was to turn around and walk out, but he couldn't help being taken in by the scene in front of him. Charlotte turned again, called out between grunts, “he's not gonna... uhn... last much longer... uhn, Gene... Come on... uhn... been a long time since... ohh... I've had two at once... uhn... uhn...”

Gene's cock stirred. He'd never been part of a threesome with another man, was surprised by how much the idea turned him on.

Jesus called out, “fuck yes, fuck yes, get in there Gene! Fuck. Her. Ass! Fuck yes, fuck yes...”

Holly smacked his ass again, turned, said, “enjoy yourself,” and left.

Gene wasted no more time moving behind the woman. He stared a moment, watching her thin ass sliding up and down on Jesus' long, thick cock. She paused, reached back and spread her cheeks wider. “Spit on it, Gene. Lube me up.”

He complied automatically, leaning down, the smell of sex strong and arousing. He spit onto her anus, rubbed it just inside, spit again, slid two fingers quickly into her ass. She squirmed, moaned as he fingered her ass. Jesus was thrusting up into her pussy, unable to sit still for long, the man's mushroom trip had to be making the experience quite an interesting one.

Gene slid his pants down to his ankles and guided the tip of his hard penis to Charlotte's tight backdoor. He pushed in slowly as she bounced, slipping out a couple of times before the head lodged inside. She groaned, Jesus grunting below. Gene pushed in, slid several inches up her ass. The woman let out a long moan and returned to bouncing on Jesus's cock.

Gene was just along for the ride at that point. Charlotte did most of the work, using her legs to push down and back, her tight butthole becoming slick and messy very quickly.

Jesus grunted and bellowed, slammed up into her. Gene could feel the man's large cock with each thrust, was nearly pushed out as Jesus swelled and was surely cumming inside Charlotte's pussy.

Gene was right there, the tight hole milking his shaft. He felt himself burning, tingling, the load in his balls firing up and out. He slammed against Charlotte's ass, held his cock deep inside, and ejaculated boiling cum into her bowels.

He stood panting a moment, letting the euphoria wash over him. Charlotte was moaning, her anus clenching and forcing him out. Gene's dick slid out the same moment Jesus's cock was pushed from her body, streams of milky semen running out of her asshole and vagina, running down over the man's balls.

Gene caught his breath and watched, suddenly very tired, as Charlotte rose off Jesus's lap and grabbed a towel from the cushion, running it through her crotch and looking very proud of herself. “That was fantastic, gentlemen. Any time. Seriously, any time.”

Jesus put his hand in the air toward Gene and he smacked it, the high-five met with Jesus grunting “fuck, yes!... whoa... I'm tripping balls, dude. Did we really just double team a chick? Never done that on shrooms!”

Gene grunted a non-reply and pulled his pants up, suddenly wanting to find a shower. It had been an intense experience, but he felt the need to clean himself thoroughly afterwards.

“Gene,” Charlotte said, still panting, “great work on that code. I'll let you know if I need anything else.” She mewled, and appeared to pass out on the couch. Gene headed for the door, looked back to see Jesus running his hands over her breasts, wondered if the man was ready for a second helping.

- - -

Finch stood still, nervous, his cock hard despite his anxiety. “Wh-what?”

“Come on... don't you want to see mine?” Hannah ran her hands down to her crotch, passing them slowly over where Finch knew her genitals were soaking against her underwear. “I want you to look.”

“Y—y—yeah... Yes...”

“So... show me!”

Finch started to unzip his pants and froze, said, “uh... you first?”

Hannah shrugged, pulled her pants down, and pushed her panties to the side. Finch stared at the dark bush which covered her Mons, could just see the girl's dark labia peaking out below. As if reading his mind, she used her fingers to pull her pussy forward, opened herself up for a better view.

Finch nearly unloaded in his pants.

Hannah laughed, let go of her genitals. “Ok, your turn.”

Finch managed to comply, his hands shaking. He pulled down his pants and then dropped his underwear to his knees. His five-inch penis throbbed, pointed straight at Hannah, precum drooling in a long, gooey strand toward the blanket below.

Hannah clapped her hands, took a step toward him, clearly delighted. “Lovely!” She turned towards his brother, said, “your turn!”

Finch was confused, had forgotten Logan was there. Forgotten he wasn't sharing this moment only with Hannah. A bit of him felt jealousy.

Logan had no reservations. His pants were down and his small penis was bouncing out for everyone to see.

Hannah smiled, took another step closer. “Oh my god, I'm so turned on right now. Finch... are you a virgin?”

He nodded automatically, unable to lie in that moment.

“Ever... played around with a girl?”

Finch wondered if jerking off next to his sister counted, but shook his head.

Hannah's hands moved out, took his penis in her right hand, grasped Logan's in her left. She sounded very friendly when she asked, “can I do something that will feel really good?”

Finch didn't reply, but Logan's eyes lit up and answered for them.

“Lay down. There, and there.” She pointed toward where she wanted them to be, and the brothers complied. Finch felt very vulnerable just then, exposed. He'd always imagined he'd be the one to make the moves, not the girls in his fantasies. Still, he wasn't complaining, and as Hannah stood over him, he stared up into where her genitals were still open and arousing.

She knelt down between Finch's legs, his brother only a few inches to his side. Her hand wrapped around his cock. She smiled when she saw the precum running down the shaft, used her finger to collect it and brought it to her lips. She mewled, started stroking him gently.

It felt amazing. Finch had never had anyone but himself do that, and it felt infinitely better when Hannah did it. He saw Logan's hand move to stroke himself and Hannah stopped him, said, “no, no. I'll do it.” She took Logan's cock in her hand and jerked them both in a moderate rhythm.

Her hand still on Logan's penis, she leaned down and took Finch's into her mouth.

Finch convulsed. Her hot, wet lips were overpowering. Before she could so much as move up and down a time or two, he ejaculated. It surprised the fifteen-year old, but she kept his spurting penis in her mouth. Finch moaned as he came, his body on fire as semen leaked from her lips. He buzzed long after his cock stopped squirting into Hannah's mouth.

- - -

Logan knew he was about to blow. Hannah's warm fingers felt better than his own, and he started to moan when he saw his brother start shooting in her mouth. It was intense, seeing him spurting between her lips. When he saw the jism slide out of her mouth, he knew it was too late to stop it.

He grunted, his hips involuntarily humped against Hannah's hand. She caught his urgency just in time, quickly pulled her mouth off Finch's cock, swallowed, then sucked Logan's penis in. His dick spurted, his body shuddering, his moans uncontrollable. If felt like he came a gallon between her lips, an endless flood of cum spurting and spurting, against her tongue, into her throat.

Hannah began to giggle as his dick stopped shooting. She pulled back, looked at the mess of throbbing, half-hard penises and globs of sperm, swallowed again. She let out a long, “mmmmm,” and said, “that was so hot.”

Her hand still covered in Finch's sperm, she thrust her fingers between her legs and in just seconds came hard, moaning loudly, eyes closed, mouth wide. Her body shook as she orgasmed, then she collapsed down between the brothers, her hands once more on their genitals.

No one moved or spoke for several moments. Hannah finally raised her head, grinned at Finch, then Logan. “So... now you can't say you've done nothing fun, eh?”

Logan was still buzzing when he nodded and heard Finch say, “oh my god... oh my god...”

- - -

“So you have no idea what they want with your husband...” It wasn't so much a question Hilda voiced as a statement. “Whitehead was into a lot of things...”

“I have no idea. I just learned about Whitehead and Gene's other life a couple of weeks ago... Whatever it is, they've been relentless trying to get at it... or to kill him.” Tamara was buzzed on the bitter liquor as the three of them polished off the bottle.

“Shame. Well, he's a resourceful man, it seems. I'm sure he's just fine.”

“Hmm.” Tamara didn't want to think about how much she missed him, how terribly she worried that he was dead.

She hadn't noticed that Hilda had slid next to Hannigan on the couch and had her hand on his thigh. He looked a bit uncomfortable. Tamara tried to be polite, asked, “so... you two have a... history, then?”

Hannigan said nothing, but Hilda was becoming more talkative the more she drank. “He and I shared a lot, back before he found himself a wife. Where is she, anyway, Marcus?”

He said quietly, “I don't know. I've been trying to find her for years.”

“Oh.” Hilda seemed to realize she'd hit a very sore spot. “Anyway... getting late. Afraid I've only got one bed here, but the couch is comfy.”

Hannigan said, “I'll take the couch. I'll be fine here.”

Hilda eyed him a moment, unreadable. “You look like a man who could use some cheering up, Marcus.” She looked at Tamara, asked, “you two... had a moment or two for yourselves yet?”

Tamara blushed, Hannigan shifted uncomfortably.

“Thought so... Look, it gets lonely sometimes. I'm... I've never been that good with these things so I'll just say it. Anyone care to join me for some... fun?”

Hannigan was silent again. Tamara said quietly, “I'd love a shower, been days since I've had a proper one.”

Hilda pointed the way and within moments, Tamara was standing under the steaming water, washing away days of grit and tension. It felt great, really. One of those comforts that gets taken for granted when you don't know any better. She rubbed her neck and shoulders, massaged her legs while the hot water splashed down.

She dried off, left the bathroom wearing only the towel. The sounds from the bedroom were unmistakable.

“That's it... oh, that's it, Marcus... just like old times...”

Tamara paused just outside the bedroom where the door stood open. She hesitated to look in, but curiosity and hormones got the better of her. Hilda was naked, on her back, just the paint on her face covering her flesh. Hannigan was on his knees, head buried between her legs, hands running over and around her thighs.

Hilda's head turned, saw Tamara standing outside. She said nothing a moment, just moaned, then said, “please... Tamara, please join us. Just for tonight.”

Tamara stepped inside and watched as Hannigan raised his head. He looked conflicted. Tamara wondered if he felt like he was cheating on her. It was absurd, in many ways, but the small pangs of jealousy she felt made it more clear. They'd had just each other for a few days, and like her, Hannigan was feeling something more tangible than companionship when they were together.

She smiled at him briefly and he returned a thin one of his one, returned to licking Hilda's hairy genitals.

Tamara had never been with a woman before, and though she had an occasionally fantasy, never really considered herself bisexual. Hilda wasn't especially attractive to her, but watching Hannigan eat her pussy made Tamara want to do the same. She slid down next to him and he moved to the side. Tamara looked at the wet slit inches from her face, could smell the woman's arousal. She felt herself grow wet.

She lapped tentatively along Hilda's labia, eliciting a contented moan. Tamara found she liked the pungent flavor and did it again, more strongly. She licked up and down the woman's pussy, tasting her sweat and arousal. Hilda's clit was huge, pushed out far from its hood, pulsing against her tongue each time it swept by. Tamara circled it, teased it, sucked it lightly. It felt like a little penis.

Hannigan had moved up the bed, had his penis in Hilda's mouth, the woman's moans muffled by the cock between her lips. Tamara felt Hilda grow tense and concentrated on lapping her clit. She slipped a finger inside her vagina, then two, found the sensation so similar and yet so different from fingering her own.

Hilda tensed and cried out around Hannigan's cock, orgasming while Tamara licked her hairy snatch. The woman never stopped sucking, and Tamara didn't want to stop eating the first pussy she'd tasted other than her own. She loved the sensation, the tender and rough spots, the slick juices, the way the woman's clit rose and felt and pulsed with excitement.

Hannigan was behind her suddenly, lifted her hips higher. On her knees, Tamara felt his hands sliding over her vulva, already slick, her labia swollen and ready. His hot cock slid into her vagina and she moaned into Hilda's pussy.

He humped her steadily, and Tamara had to come up for air. Hilda watched as Hannigan fucked Tamara from behind, the man grunting, his swelling penis filling her so wonderfully. Tamara came hard around his cock, Hilda's creamy discharge coating her tongue. She couldn't believe she'd never tried this before.

Tamara buzzed with euphoria and alcohol, wanted to see him fucking Hilda, pushed him back a moment, then pulled him between the woman's legs. Hannigan rose over her. Tamara held his erect penis, still slippery from her own juices, and positioned the tip just inside Hilda's labia.

Hannigan slid in easily, her legs rising to wrap around him. As he fucked the woman, Tamara slid next to her, ran her hands over Hilda's small breasts, met Hannigan's lips with her own. He groaned into her mouth, humped faster. Hilda orgasmed again, and Hannigan broke the kiss, cried out, eyes closed, mouth open, and began ejaculating inside the woman. He filled her with short, quick pumps, grinding himself onto her body, his penis spewing cum into her vagina.

Before he could pull out of Hilda's pussy, Tamara fingered herself to another orgasm. It was the hottest thing she'd ever done in her life, and she worked up a third watching Hannigan pull out of the woman, his creamy cum sliding out to catch in her pubic hairs and drip down over her anus.

She was spent, collapsed, hands moving over her, and her own moving slowly over bodies, male and female. When Hannigan entered her again some time later, she barely responded, simply buzzing with euphoria. When he dumped his second load in her this time, it surprised her not at all to feel Hilda's lips and tongue cleaning up the cum running from her vagina as she passed out.