Run - Chapter 42: More Than Sex (Mf mf inc brother/sister father/daughter petting)

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Chapter 42: More Than Sex

The wet spray both stung and cooled her face in the hot sun. Tamara's skin was surely burning despite the darkened-olive tone it had taken on over the weeks on the run. She'd tried to find a spot on the boat with shade, but with the sun still high enough in the sky, she could do little more than fret about the blisters and burns sure to show on her neck and face the next day.

"So," she said to Marcus above the roar of the boat skipping through the water, "you two were married, huh?"

"Long story..."

"What else you got to do right now?"

He sighed and said, "We were both new to all this shit, working a team with two other people. Because we were new, we did some undercover stuff. No one yet knew our faces, so it was easier to get ourselves in somewhere important. We posed often as a husband and wife... and... you know... we sorta got carried away."

"But you actually married her?"

"Yep. We were in love, I thought, but... Petra's got some issues..."

"Do tell."

Hannigan looked a little uncomfortable, "See... I'm a guy who likes... you know... being a guy... Petra... well... let's just say that... in bed... she likes to be the guy... a lot of the time, really."

"Like... how?" Tamara asked, confused.

"Like... fingers... dildos... strapons..."

"Ah... pegging?"

Hannigan groaned, "Like pegging, yeah. At first, it was alright because we had fun, but... it became more than I wanted and she didn't have much of a sex drive if she didn't... act like a man in bed... So... it sort of fell apart and we got divorced less than a year after our marriage. Kinda caused a bit of a scandal in the team and the supervisors were not too thrilled to have to rearrange things to keep us apart. It got a little ugly for a while, but... we worked it out enough to handle our jobs... eventually."

"Hmm... Not sure I'd want to do that to a guy," Tamara mused, "but a woman? Sure..."

"Then maybe you and Petra should get married..."

"Already happily, thank you..."

Hannigan leaned closer. "How happily, Tamara?"

"What do you mean?"

"Come on... I'm not the only one who feels... something, right?"

She looked out at the horizon. "No... no. I do, too."

"And how's that going to work when we find your husband? Or my wife?"

"I'm not leaving Gene. No offense, but... I'll pick him every time..."

Hannigan shook his head, "That's not what I'm suggesting. And no offense taken. I would pick my wife over you, too. No, what I mean is... we can't just stop feeling something, not on a dime..."

"We'll figure that out when it happens. You know my husband and I... we're open. Usually... we talk about who and what and when before it happens, but given the circumstances... I doubt my husband has missed out on opportunities of his own."

"It's more than sex, Tamara..."

"I know, I just mean... Let's find Gene first. I promise we'll figure the rest out then. I can't really think about this right now. I'm drenched. I'm sunburned. I'm scared to death. I'm afraid I'll never see my children and husband again, and once again, I really need to take a piss."

Hannigan looked at her evenly a moment, then shook his head and chuckled, "Here," he said, "I'll help you hang it over the side."

"Huh? You've checked enough that I don't have anything to whip out and hang over..."

"No," he replied, "I'll show you." He helped Tamara to her feet and steadied her as she sat on the flat edge of the short deck wall. "You'll just pull them down and I'll ease you back until you can pee into the water."

"You have to be kidding..."

"Better idea?"

She scowled then shook her head. "Fine." With a quick glance towards Petra, the woman's eyes straight ahead, Tamara scooted off the edge and pulled her pants down to her knees, exposing her hairy genitals to the cool breeze. Tamara wished she had enough brainspace to wonder when it might be convenient to shave again. Hannigan helped her slide towards the edge and slowly, she scooted backwards with him holding her arms tight. "Okay, I'm there."

Tamara let her bladder empty, the awkward sensation made more so by the skipping boat which shook and bounced and threatened to topple her out of Hannigan's grip and over the side.

She managed to finish then started to hop back down.

The boat skidded over a wave and it rocked, sending Tamara forward in a lurch. Hannigan caught her in an embrace, and for a few seconds, the two locked eyes, Tamara's pants still around her knees. She saw the genuine emotions swirling in the man's gaze, and when his mouth opened and his head rolled slightly to the side, Tamara leaned in and met Hannigan's lips with her own.

- - -

The drive north was slow and steady despite the urgency with which they'd left the safe house. The vehicles, three silver SUVs and a small grey sedan, moved steadily past slower traffic but didn't race the way Logan would have expected. Along with his brother, sister, father, and the women Holly and Marisa, he'd been rushed into one of the SUVs and they'd' pushed off from the gravel lot within seconds.

He wasn't sure where they were going. All Logan was sure of was that they had found his father, and that it was such an overwhelming relief that he couldn't even think about his cock more than once or twice a minute. It still felt odd to have his father in back in his life after so many weeks apart. He looked older, rougher. Even Logan knew it had not been an easy journey to reunite, not for any of them.

Despite the slow pace and otherwise boring ride, Logan did rather enjoy sitting next to Holly, though. He remembered her from the first few days, especially during the gunfight crossing into Switzerland. While Holly fired a rifle out the window, Logan had grabbed her nice ass and given it a squeeze. He wondered if she might let him do that again. Shifting himself just an inch or two in her direction, he was rewarded with more of her thigh pushing against his, the warmth of her body teasing him to hardness.

She looked up from the laptop, her fingers stilling, and she smiled at Logan. "Doing alright?"

Logan nodded.

"Good. We don't have a long ways to go to the next stop in a few minutes, then about two-and-a-half hours to where we'll set up for the night."

"Where are we going anyways?" Logan asked.

"Tirano. Italian border town, right next to Switzerland. Beautiful area. Big mountains, in the Alps, snow on the peaks, all that romantic stuff people seem to love."

Logan listened to the melody in her voice and found himself falling in love with Holly all over again. "I like romantic stuff, don't you?"

He saw her eyes move up and towards the front, possibly lingering on the back of his father's head, then she looked back at him with a weak smile, a bit less enthusiasm in her voice, "Not really my thing..."

"Oh," Logan said, disappointed. Even if she wasn't interested in romance, her warmth still felt nice, and Logan already knew that sometimes girls let you touch their boobs and butts without romance, so there was still hope. He scooted just a bit further and leaned back, pressing the side of his leg against Holly and staring off towards the looming ridge lines in the distance.

- - -

Lauren was pressed into the front of the SUV with Marisa driving on one side, her father on the other. They'd been traveling about two hours with little being said. It surprised her that the speed of the four-vehicle convoy had largely been pedestrian, none of the usual screaming wheels and revving engines.

She had exchanged some conversation with her dad, details of where they'd been, what she and her brothers had been through. Obviously, Lauren left out a lot of her experiences, most of them sexual in nature. Her dad was interested in Panthea and the farm and she ensured he understood that they had gotten by only with a lot of help. She'd been very scared, she admitted, but Lauren was alright now that her father was back.

She'd asked about her mother and there was some hope that she was okay, information from a day or two before suggested she was alive and might even be on her way to them.

Conversation died down as both of them became sleepy. Her dad snored softly, leaning against the door, and Lauren did what felt right and leaned against him. His arm wrapped around her shoulder and she smiled, content for the first time in a long while.

Lauren could smell her father's scent. It was familiar but rough, definitely her dad but tainted with sweat and anxiety. Still, it was another comfort, to breath against his chest and take it in. "I love you, Dad," she whispered, but no response came as he continued to sleep.

Would I really fuck him? Lauren asked herself. It's just a fantasy, right? Now that he's here... I don't know... If he suggested it... I think I would... Despite her weariness, she was growing aroused. Her father's warm body, his unique scent, were only making it harder to ignore how her fantasies of her dad had played out over the previous weeks. Her head was only a foot or so above his groin, her father's cock just below the thin fabric of his jeans.

After so long apart, and the intense fantasies she'd played out, Lauren shifted herself so that one arm rested on her father's thigh. Careful to keep it hidden from Marisa, the woman concentrating on driving behind her, she listened to her dad's breathing to ensure he was still sleeping. When she was certain, she slowly moved her arm up his leg, letting her hand dangle in the gap between his thighs, just a few inches from the seam of his jeans.

So close, she was, to touching him there. She had to be very careful, pretending to sleep, keeping her breathing steady and slow despite her pounding heartbeats. Slowly, slowly, her hand moved higher and soon, she had fingers resting against her father's crotch. Lauren let her arm go limp then, the full weight of her hand over her dad's cock.

- - -

Gene was aware of an unexpected sensation as he stirred. Staying still, he tried to figure out what was different. For one, his daughter was leaning against him, and that made him instinctively squeeze her tight with the arm draped around her shoulder. Then he realized that Lauren's hand was on his groin. Directly over his dick. His stomach filled with butterflies. He was sure it was an accident, that she was sleeping and didn't know where her hand had gone. Gene didn't want to move, enjoying the secret thrill as long as he could.

He did feel a little guilty, but his mind raced back to the day, weeks earlier, when he'd seen Lauren tasting the cum from the bed, cum which he'd spurted into Tamara's ass just moments earlier. It made him start to grow erect, his cock quickly pulsing to life beneath his daughter's hand.

Only when he felt a spasm from her fingers did he look down again. He saw Lauren's face slightly upturned, her eyes snapping shut quickly. For a few seconds, he pretended not to notice and tried to snore convincingly. Her fingers curled just slightly, and Gene was sure she was tracing the outline of his cock through his pants. It made him throb with excitement. Was his own daughter really aware of what she was doing? Aware of her own father's arousal? Gene knew the days and weeks on the run had messed with his mind.

Sure he was just imagining thing, playing more to his fantasies than the more innocent reality which must be, he closed his eyes again and tried to find genuine sleep. Lauren's fingers moved slightly, just a half-inch or so, then changed direction. She is aware!

"Alright," Marisa called out, "we stop here for ten minutes."

Lauren bolted upright beside him, snatching back her hand. Gene saw his daughter's cheeks were flushed, rosy. She's turned on!

The vehicle came to a stop and Marisa jumped out quickly. Lauren looked at him briefly, a sheepish expression on her face. Gene smiled at her, tense with excitement, and then opened the door to step out.

- - -

"So," Petra's bitter tones obvious even with the accent, "you're Marcus's new plaything, eh?"

"Excuse me?" Tamara replied. They'd pulled to within a few miles of their destination on Corsica so that Petra could get her bearings. Hannigan was currently pissing off the back of the boat.

"His woo-woo. His, what did he used to call mine... ummm... his 'cock-holster?'"

"Not really any of your business, I think," Tamara remarked coldly.

Petra shrugged, "No. I suppose he needed a girly-girl since he's half one himself. Take it like a man, you Americans say, yes? Well... I guess some men aren't really men, then..."

"Trust me, Marcus is all man."

Petra gave her a contemplative stare, then shrugged again, "What do I care? I've had plenty of men who know how to shut up and take it like a man."

"Good for you," Tamara said sarcastically.

Petra returned to her tablet and tapped the screen a few times. "We're close enough to go in. Plane's waiting. There's news, possible change of plans."

"What news?" Hannigan said as he passed Tamara to look down at Petra's screen.

"Doesn't say. Just be prepared."

"I'm always prepared."

"Hmph," Petra scoffed, "prepared to wimp out."

"Would you knock it off?" Tamara exclaimed. "Whatever this is between you two needs to stop. Now. We're in a lot of danger and we need to get moving!"

Hannigan looked at Tamara briefly, then stared at Petra.

The woman looked away and sat aside her tablet. "We'll be at the dock in twenty minutes. The airport isn't far."

The motors roared to life and Tamara was thrown back in her seat, Hannigan beside her. His arm wrapped around her shoulder and she pressed her face against his chest, enjoying for a short time how good it felt to be in the man's strong embrace.

- - -

Finch couldn't believe his good fortune. They had stopped for a quick break along the highway, parking well off the road. He'd gotten out of the SUV last and stepped to an area he thought was unoccupied, whipping out his penis and starting to urinate.

To his surprise, he heard splashing to his left and turned to see the pretty blonde woman Holly with her pants around her ankles, ass towards him, piss flowing strongly down from her crotch. His own flow grew tight and then sputtered as his cock responded to the sight of Holly's pale round buttocks, the cleft between offering just a hint of the light, pink butthole between.

He stroked himself slowly, not able to look away. Finch watched every drop run from between her legs, and then stared as she shook her hips. Holly rose slowly, pushing her ass out slightly in his direction. For a few seconds, her bald, pink pussy was vivid and fully in his view.

Suddenly, Holly looked over her shoulder at him and grinned, "Like what you see?"

"Uhhh..."

She laughed and his cock deflated in embarrassment, Finch trying to put it away before she could see it.

Holly pulled up her pants and then turned towards him, walking the short distance and then placing a hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry, it's normal to watch. Your dad does it all the time. And Finch?"

"Huh?"

Her voice lowered just a bit, "You've got a really nice cock, just like your father..."

She grinned again and walked back towards the parked vehicles, leaving Finch stuck between confusion and arousal.

- - -

"That intentional, Holly?" Gene asked her when she walked up, "Dropping your pants so my son could watch?"

Holly shrugged and Gene knew it was so. "Can't help when I gotta go, Gene."

Gene tried to be mad at her, but the truth was he was still thinking about the way Lauren had been trying to feel his cock through his pants. He supposed Finch had possibly seen a thing or two over the weeks, and maybe getting to see Holly's rather sensational ass wasn't the worst thing that could happen to the boy. Gene just shook his head and laughed, "You never change, do you?"

There was an odd sensation in his brain and he noticed that Holly was looking at him with an expression he hadn't seen before. It was softer, gentler, less over-the-top insistent than usual. Gene couldn't quite read it. It passed quickly and her eyes returned to their typical sparkling deviousness. Holly shrugged again, "Only when forced to."

"So... Tarino."

"Tarino."

"Why there?"

"Because," Bridgewater's deep baritone rumbled from behind Gene's left, "we need to regroup and reevaluate, and the things I need to do so are available in Tarino. It's just a short stop. Overnight, maybe two if we're clear. We'll figure out what's next. We've got to find your wife immediately before we can work on the next parts."

"The next parts being picking apart my wife's brains to find a monkey?"

"Something like that. We've got an... associate... who might be able to help."

"Lee Lee," Gene replied, "yeah, I've heard of him."

Bridgewater nodded, "We won't do anything to hurt her, Gene, I promise."

"Not unless you think she's worth more dead than alive." Gene tensed, suddenly unsure of the man standing before him.

"Trust me, I want her very much alive."

"Seems to me a man who would lie to his own daughter, to make her mourn him as dead for years before suddenly reappearing, might be someone who would lie to a guy like me about keeping someone safe. Why the hell should I trust you, Bridgewater?"

The man watched Holly's expression a moment. Gene swore they were communicating via blinks and tiny twitches of lips and eyebrows. Was he imagining it? Then Bridgewater turned back to Gene and leaned closer, his deep voice just above a whisper, "Because you and I share a lover... Two, I suspect... and I'd do anything to keep them safe, Gene. Anything.

"I did what I did because I believed it would keep Holly safe. I knew it was a horrible thing to do to a teenager. I hate that it came to that. But right now, I promise you, I understand what you're dealing with, I understand you don't trust me. But trust Holly. I know you do. She doesn't like what I did to her, but she understands it. When I tell you I will not harm your wife, I mean I will not harm your wife just as I didn't, in the end, harm Holly. I can't promise it's all wine and roses, Gene. In fact I'm certain it won't be, but we'll do everything possible to make this go as smoothly as possible, and then we'll see you and your family is off on a magical carpet ride back to whatever is left of your former lives."

Gene stared at Bridgewater. Despite the man's size and impressive presence, Gene wasn't intimidated. His family's safety was on the line, and Gene had been through far too much to let something as basic as intimidation factor into his thinking. He relaxed and backed down, not out of fear but from resignation. He had no choice. "Fine. I trust you, largely because I trust Holly. Somewhat. Mostly."

Holly giggled, "Well said, Gene. 'Somewhat mostly.' I can live with that."

Bridgewater nodded once then whistled sharply. "Let's move!"

Seconds later, they were back in the vehicles and heading north again. Lauren was pressed to his side, and once more, Gene wrapped an arm around his daughter and pulled her against him, secretly hoping she'd start exploring his lap with her soft fingers.

- - -

"Run! Hurry up you lazy fuck-ahs!" Petra's voice sounded shrill next to Tamara's ear as they jumped the low hedge bordering the small airport in Bastia. They raced along the line of hedges until Petra pointed towards a narrow jet idling near one end of the runway.

It crossed Tamara's mind to wonder if this was a setup only after she saw the dozen or so black and silver vehicles careening up from the other end. "Marcus!" she screamed, pointing.

He grabbed her wrist, pointed back to the hedge line, and yelled, "Run!" while drawing a pistol from his waist. Petra was nowhere in sight as Tamara's legs took her as fast as possible back over the hedge and into the trees. Marcus just behind her, pushing her to the right as they raced past scrub and shattered trunks and new growth.

Tamara burst out on a small rise above the seafront, a few small buildings looking ragged and unkempt below. "There!" Marcus shouted, pulling Tamara down the hill at a rapid clip. She heard shouting behind her and picked up the pace, not looking back for fear of losing her footing.

Marcus ran ahead, past two narrow homes and onto a newer dock where two boats were tied off. He jumped into one, then immediately into the other. "Shit!"

"What?!"

"I can't hotwire these fast enough!" He turned side to side and Tamara neared panic.

She spotted a small buggy beside one of the buildings. "That?"

Marcus looked where she pointed and raced to it, slamming himself down under the steering and fumbling for something in his pocket, pulling out a multitool. Tamara heard shouting closer up the hill, then saw at least four people running in their direction. "Hurry, Marcus!"

"I'm fucking trying!"

Tamara jumped into the side seat. Either Marcus got the buggy going or it was over.

She heard clicking and static, more clicking, and then the engine revved. Marcus jumped into the seat and smashed the pedal. "Stay low!" he yelled as the crack of gunfire sounded from the back and right.

Tamara shrieked when something zinged off the metal frame. The buggy wasn't fast, but it was putting distance between them and those on foot. But she knew it was only temporary. They'd be caught. Even when the sounds of gunfire fell away and they zipped down the coast at a modest speed, it was only a matter of time before those in pursuit rallied and trapped them again as the evening sun slowly sank to the west.

- - -

"Like hell," Gene growled, "I'm not going without them."

Bridgewater was leaning against the counter of a large kitchen in an underground bunker built deep into the side of a lesser ridge in the mountains along the Swiss-Italian border. They'd arrived in Tarino minutes earlier, and Bridgewater had led them down the hidden passages from the unassuming single-room cabin on the surface.

The tall man looked at Gene with an expression of resignation but also resolve. "You want your wife back, yes? And I need to be sure you two are together as quickly as possible. The only way we stop this insanity is to tease out whatever secrets are locked in Tamara's brain. I know you don't want to be separated again, but this is going to be dangerous. It's no place for children, even those who have shown surprising resilience over the past few weeks."

Gene cursed under his breath, then ensured Bridgewater understood his frustration by yelling, "Fuck!"

"You've got a few hours. We don't know exactly where they are right now, only where Victor's men almost caught up to them. We know they were on Corsica. I've got people on the way, but we're very light on the ground right now. I've already sent Bendal and Marisa and a couple of my men ahead to form a search team just a moment ago. Once I've got word of where to go, I'm in the air, as well, and you're coming with me. I need you, Gene. Your wife needs you. Your kids will be fine with Anna and the Hendersons. Trust me, Gene. You have to go with me."

Gene knew the man's argument was shit. Bridgewater had already told him that a choice between Gene and his kids was no choice. If he was going to Corsica, Bridgewater was not leaving Gene in someone else's care. Of course, his children couldn't go on a rescue mission. Of course Gene wanted to help his wife. But he'd only just been reunited with his sons and daughter. Ripping him away from that, again, was simply cruel.

Even with a shit argument, Gene knew he had no real choice. With several of Bridgewater's men and his daughter, Anna, plus the Hendersons, the family who had already spent weeks sheltering Lauren and the boys, and a very secure underground hideout, the kids would probably be safest there regardless of Gene's presence. He looked down at his hands. They were surprising steady. His heart raced and his anxiety had been coming on strong since Bridgewater had told him the new plan. "Fine." Gene growled.

"Get some rest while you can."

Bridgewater left the kitchen and Gene wandered off to break the bad news to his children. Another separation was in the works. Gene hoped this one didn't last as long as the previous one.

He went down the sterile metal hallway and turned right towards the small bunk rooms where his kids had been boarded. As he raised a hand to knock on the door, Gene heard giggling and then a moan. Lauren? He listened a moment, another moan. Then his daughter squeaked and said, "Easy, Finch, I can't breath!" What the hell is going on?!

Gene turned the knob slowly and opened the door just enough to see inside. On the bed, on her back, Lauren was naked, her legs over her chest, feet in the air, her brother Finch likewise naked and thrusting in and out of her. Oh. My. God.

"Dad!" Lauren shrieked, trying to push Finch off of her. He got caught in her awkward flying limbs and twisted to the side, his erect penis glistening, white smears along the top. Lauren's cream! In less than five seconds, Lauren was covered by the sheet and Finch was hiding behind the mattress.

Gene couldn't process the incestuous moments he was witnessing, swallowing several times, his anger rising then falling away, replaced by confusion, and the more he relived the previous seconds, arousal. He'd seen his daughter's tits. Her pussy, spread open and wet, hairy, visible only for the few seconds she and Finch tried to disengage, but Gene had seen it. God, Lauren's pussy is beautiful!

"I, uh..." he stammered, "I need to talk to you both. Where's your brother?"

Finch stuttered, "D-down t-th-the hall... Two doors d-down..."

"Well," Gene said softly, "put some clothes on and fetch him please. Hurry up."

Finch yanked on his clothing and was out the door quickly. Gene let himself inside and closed the door. "So...," Gene said, his daughter trembling on the bed, "you and Finch... have been intimate..."

Lauren's eyes were wide and frightened. She didn't reply.

Gene tried to smile but feared it came off as a smirk. "I'm not mad... I have a lot of questions... but I'm not mad, Lauren. Alright?"

"O-okay..."

"It's been a very strange few weeks, for all of us..."

"Yeah..."

"I, uh," Gene said, looking at his daughter, "I've missed you, Lauren. I just want you to know that. Really missed you."

"I missed you, Dad..."

He reached out his arms instinctively and Lauren sat upright, letting the sheet fall away. For just a second, as he readied his embrace, his daughter's perfect tits were just inches from his eyes. Gene had seen Lauren's breasts a couple of times before, but this was as close a view as he'd ever had. She seemed not to notice and wrapped her arms around him. As he hugged her tight, Gene could smell his daughter's unique scent in his nose. She had yet to shower, the odor of sweat and nerves on her flesh, but there was also arousal and young, wet pussy. Her scent was driving Gene wild as he held her.

Thankfully, the door opened again and Finch came in with Logan.

"Have a seat," Gene told them.

When they were settled, he went right to the point, "I have to leave in a few hours to go with Bridgewater. We're going to get your mom. You three are staying put right here."

- - -

"No, Dad!" Lauren pleaded, "You can't go without us! We won't be in the way!"

Her dad shook his head and held her hand, her brothers to her sides, "It's not up for negotiation, Lauren," he told her, "You can't go."

She pouted and she could hear Logan sobbing lightly, her younger brother clearly not liking the idea of their father leaving again any more than Lauren did.

Her dad continued, "Look... I don't like this either. But Bridgewater's right. I have to be there so we can try to end this thing. And... I want your mother back, don't you?"

"Of course!" Lauren exclaimed, "but we just found you again!"

"This is different," he explained, "this time I'm going voluntarily... mostly voluntarily... I'm not being kidnapped. We're not being attacked and running off into god knows what. You're safe here. I'll be back as soon as possible, and I'm bringing back your mother. I promise. We'll see each other very soon."

Lauren started to sob along with Logan. Finch, somehow, was steady and appeared calm. "We'll be okay, Dad," he said, "don't worry about us. Go get Mom. Please."

Her dad nodded, "Come here, you three. I need a hug before I go get some sleep."

They joined together, the four of them. Lauren cried softly, upset yet again by the world's cruelty. She hoped it wouldn't be the last time she held her father. She inhaled against his neck, the smell of days of sweat and sun and fear rich and perfectly wonderful. Lauren wanted to remember that scent forever. She filed it away and hoped she could recall it over the hours or days or weeks in which they would soon be apart.