Run - Chapter 9: Boobs for a Hero (MF fsolo msolo bsolo ped voy exhib inc brother/sister)

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Chapter 9: Boobs for a Hero

The cramps had faded as the day wore on, but Lauren's discomfort continued to make her feel awful. The blood had dried, caked on the fabric bunched against her pussy. No matter how she shifted or pulled them away from her genitals, the dirty panties managed to press back in and made her aware again of her raw skin and her unpleasant odors.

The convoy pulled off the road and parked in a small clearing after rising for the last hour over growing mountains. Snow caps dotted the surrounding peaks, the air cool, the beauty of the land not completely lost on the fifteen-year old.

They got out to stretch, another fifteen-minute layover. People milled around, drinking coffee, some smoking cigarettes, others moving off to urinate and void bowels. Lauren walked far enough to get away from everyone, settled into a low set of bushes which hovered just North of the parked vehicles.

She squatted down, unzipped her pants and pulled low her bloody underwear. The sharp smell of fish and fear hit her nose and she hated that she had no time to clean up.

Holly wandered toward her just as her urine slowed. The blonde smiled at her, glanced a moment between her legs. Lauren instinctively closed her thighs, tried to hide her genitals from the woman's view. Holly said nothing a moment, squatted down, and pissed a few feet away.

“You doing ok, Lauren? Sorry we've not had a chance to meet properly. Maybe once we get where we're going there will be time for that.”

Lauren let her urine drip from her crotch, tried to figure out how to pull her clothes back on without Holly seeing her half-naked. “Yeah... ok... this is all crazy.”

“Crazy. Yes, crazy and intense, eh? Hard to believe?”

“Very.”

Lauren stood, started pulling her panties up.

Holly said, “Listen... that time of the month, right? Shitty time for that, I know.”

Lauren squirmed as her panties crunched against her vulva, said, “yeah... sucks.”

“You, uh... you could use a pair not soaked in blood, eh?”

“Would be nice.”

“Give me a moment, I'll see what I can do. Wait here a sec.”

Holly stood and pulled her underwear up, Lauren's eyes drawn a second to the woman's privates. She noticed the lack of hair above her thin slit, looked away before Holly noticed her.

Holly wandered off to the parked vehicles and disappeared. Lauren stood quietly, let her eyes drift to the surrounding peaks, inhaled slowly before letting out a long sigh. She felt so small in that place, so small with so many chaotic things going on around her. It left her longing for a shower and a warm bed, and, she knew, perhaps a moment of alone time to rub one out to relieve her stress.

Holly returned carrying a pair of white cotton panties, handed them to Lauren, said, “best I can do for now, sorry.”

Lauren took them, looked uncertain about whether to once more drop her pants.

Holly smiled, said, “I'll turn around. Get them on, we're about to head out again.” She turned and made a show of admiring the hazy mountains.

Lauren shed her pants quickly, pulled her bloody panties off, and slid the white pair on.

They were warm and damp.

Lauren yanked them away a moment, horrified. A sticky, creamy deposit was in the gusset, wetness spread along much of the crotch. Holly turned, smiled, said, “best I could do. I gave you mine, couldn't get to baggage just yet. Hopefully they're better than what you had. Here, I'll take yours and see that they get washed when we stop.”

Lauren felt uncomfortable as she pushed her dirty underwear into Holly's hand and pulled the damp pair against her genitals. The warmth was nice, but the sticky wetness made her feel disgusted. Holly pocketed the bloody underwear and turned back to return to the convey where engines were turning over.

The fifteen-year old swallowed her revulsion, refastened her jeans, and walked beside Holly. “Where are we going?”

“Switzerland. Border's just up ahead. Could be interesting.”

- - -

The radio crackled to life. “Mike-One reports gunfire at the border. Weapons free. We're rolling it.”

Gene's eyes shot open, tremors running through him. The dream faded quickly, but not fast enough for him to forget the look in Lauren's eye as he sank his penis into her. Goddamn, what the hell was that? Lauren... Jesus... He shook his head as Holly turned back toward them.

“Everyone get down. These windows should stop most of it, but will give eventually. Stay down until I tell you otherwise. Gene, here.” She pressed a pistol into his hands. “We may need someone on that side, too.” Gene held it loosely as Holly disengaged the safety on her machine gun. Her smile was wicked as she turned back and watched the rising slope ahead.

The pistol was cold, which seemed appropriate. Gene felt cold, drained, so far off-kilter than he'd been dreaming about fucking his own fifteen-year old daughter.

He sank back and ducked down, made sure Lauren and Finch were low in the seats. “Keep calm. Just keep calm. We'll be ok, stay down.” Both kids looked frightened, said nothing. The cramped backseat left little room to move, but he turned his body to the left and stared out the window at the cliff face beside them.

“Take the safety off, Gene. Won't do any good otherwise.” Holly had her gun pointed ahead as the border crossing came into view. Gene clicked the safety and trembled, his eyes just above the edge of the glass.

The first few vehicles barreled through the busted gates. Gene saw bodies as they did the same. Blood, pools of it, sprays on the guard house, sprays on a smoking car.

The radio crackled again, “contact front! Run hot!”

Automatic rifle fire sputtered dully ahead. Georges slammed his foot to the floor as the vehicle ahead of them did the same. Holly cracked her window an inch or two. “Cover your ears!”

- - -

Logan was terrified and exhilarated at the same time. Bullets dinged off the hood, pangs of impact that seemed to send shock waves through his body. His hands shot to his ears when Holly yelled, seconds later the deafening roar of her weapon drowning out all else. Another burst, another, she yelled, “watch right, Georges!” She looked back, “Gene... little help here!”

The excitement was intensified when Holly shifted, her ass raised off the seat as she aimed. It brushed against him, pushed into his thigh and his mother's. The gunfire made his ears hurt, but he let one hand drift down, instinctively letting it settle against the short blonde's butt.

He giggled then, caught up in the rush of the speeding gun battle, the sounds and smells of weapons being discharged, the warm, warm flesh hidden just beneath the jeans touching his hand. His penis rose, and it was all he could do not to start masturbating. In his mother's lap, he couldn't, but it was oh, so tempting.

Logan shifted his hand, cupped Holly's ass, squeezed it. She didn't seem to notice. It felt tight and firm, just a little give between his fingers. Logan held on and smiled.

Gunfire erupted from the seat behind him, then his mother's hand grabbed his and slammed it back to his lap.

- - -

What the hell, Logan! What is wrong with you!? Tamara's head pounded with the gunfire, the terror, fearing for her children. She'd happened to look down, trying to keep herself and her son as low as possible, when she'd seen his hand resting against Holly's ass. Seemed innocent enough, and she didn't give it a thought until Logan's hand turned and squeezed the blonde's butt cheek.

It took her a few seconds to register the action amidst the frightening chaos, but when she did, she grabbed his hand and pushed it to his lap. Tamara didn't process it then, not really. Booming shots rang out from behind her, more automatic fire from ahead. She buried her observation, moved Logan's hand, and tried to make herself smaller.

- - -

Gene responded automatically to Holly's command, the window cracked enough to get his hand out. He thought he might drop the gun, his grip a spasm of fear and anxiety.

Holly yelled again, “high, Gene. Up high, on the left, shoot them!”

The vehicle screamed down the road as Gene's finger twitched and the pounding boom of the pistol left his ears ringing. He wasn't so much aiming as firing in the general direction of the men on the ledge. Flashes and the ripple of gunfire came from the spot, spraying the pavement to their rear. Gene hammered the trigger, tried to aim but the bouncing, speeding truck made it impossible.

He emptied the clip just as the truck passed the gunmen and sped over to the backside of the mountain, racing quickly downhill. Gene pulled his arm in, looked at the pistol. It no longer felt cold.

Holly closed her window, looked back, grinned, said, “great suppression, Gene, baby. Great suppression.”

Gene said nothing, the emotional impact of firing a gun at other humans beginning to sink in.

- - -

Lauren whimpered against the door, her face sunk down over her knees. Finch could see tears dripping down. He was frightened, numb and trembling, and he felt like crying, too. He almost did. But seeing Lauren so scared steeled him just enough to put his shaking arm around her. She instantly leaned into him, wrapped her arms around his shoulders, crying into his neck.

It was an emotional moment for him. Lauren was never one to be particularly kind to him, and certainly never appeared weak. That one gesture showed Finch just how terrifying their situation really was.

He pulled her close. Finch never knew why, but he kissed her neck, maybe just something he'd seen his mom and dad do with him or Logan when they were upset. He let his lips linger, the lightest hint of salty flesh hit his tongue. Finch kissed her again, tightened his hug, and she hung on to him more strongly.

Finch smelled her body. The sweat and warmth combined with other, more curious odors. His sister's scents were confusing, some repulsive, others attractive. He found himself growing hard, and realized that the way they were crouched into the seat, Lauren's knee was pressing down between his legs.

- - -

Lauren sobbed into Finch's neck. She didn't know why she needed it just then, but when he'd wrapped his arm around her, she immediately latched on, needing the assurance that she wasn't alone. The terror of the fleeing vehicle made her feel sick, and the crying didn't help. Her ears hurt terribly, her body shook in fear.

When Finch kissed her neck, she felt something release. Just a small pressure change in her body, enough to take the edge off the drowning fright boiling in her body. She melted a bit, pulled him closer.

At first, the hard thing pressing against her knee didn't register. It took her mind a while to map the way her body was squeezed into Finch's. His cock... my brother's cock is hard... She felt it moving as the truck shook, taking a corner just below 'too fast.' She debated pulling back a moment, but then he kissed her neck again and once more, the relaxation happened, taking just a bit more of her trembling fear from her.

She kissed him back, let her lips press against his skin, just touching. Her tears had stopped, Finch's shoulder wet with them. Lauren felt warm suddenly, tremors of another kind just bare ripples against the greater fear. Finch's penis throbbed under her knee, and Lauren couldn't stop noticing. It felt like a bit of a dream, her brother's cock against her drowned out everything out, a fantasy of escape worthy of a Walter Mitty tale. She lost herself, shut out the shouts and panting in the truck and let the warmth of Finch's penis radiate through her and keep her safe.

- - -

They wound slowly through a road that only pretended to be wide enough for two lanes, making the convoy creep around oncoming vehicles. Gene stared blankly out the window, gun in his lap.

Georges got agitated, “fucking move, fucking fucks! Goddamn, we gotta run here! Move!” He lowered his window and shouted out, “Move, goddammit, move!”

The radio crackled, “everything ok back there, Georges?”

He responded, “not yet. Can't we go any faster?”

“Working on it.”

Georges grumbled and Gene wondered if they were ever going to get to their destination.

“Look at this asshole, he's getting a blow job!”

Gene looked out to where they passed a red convertible. A man in his 60s was leaning back on the seat, one hand on the steering wheel, the other holding a blonde head down on his lap. They passed slowly enough for Gene to see painted red lips slide up and down his penis a couple of times before the car was behind them.

Georges looked back, grimace on his face, “uh, sorry, forgot about the kids. Sorry...”

No one else spoke, and Gene returned to his blank stare.

- - -

The compound was somewhere outside of Lausanne. They pulled into the heavily-guarded gates around nightfall, vehicles directed to a lot a few hundred yards from a large mansion. Lauren stepped out and crowded near her father and mother as Holly spoke.

“We're here for the night, probably longer. I'll show you where you're staying.”

She led them up the drive and into the house through huge double doors. The entry way was as big as most houses. Large paintings and suits of armor met them immediately, white people in black suits and dresses scurried just ahead of their path. Holly took them up the stairs and down a long hallway where they entered a separate wing of the mansion.

“Only one room free, I'm afraid. Losing Belgium House created a lot of people in need of beds.” She nodded toward a partially-open door. “Your bags will be brought up shortly.” Holly softened, looked at Lauren, then Gene. “Listen. There's a nice bathroom in there, relax a bit. There'll be dinner soon. Clean up, I know you all need it.”

Lauren certainly did. She'd been wearing Holly's moist panties all day. It had repulsed her at first, disgusting. But the longer she wore them, the more her mind slid back into the seconds she'd seen Holly's hairless slit. It made her tingle a bit. She'd seen some of her classmates in the showers before, and some of them shaved, but seeing it like that was unexpected, and as the time in the truck had slowly slipped by, Lauren knew her own pussy was adding to the sticky discharge on the fabric.

Finch's cock hadn't helped. At first, it was just innocent, but the longer it had gone on, the more she fixated on it, attached herself to the hard shaft pressing against his pants and onto her knee. She let the thought linger just a moment before she spotted the bathroom and yelled, “first!”

- - -

Gene sat on the king-plus-sized bed, holding Tamara's hand. Everyone was exhausted, and he was tempted to suggest they all crawl under the sheets and try to get some sleep. Their bags were brought up while Lauren showered.

His daughter finished, came out wrapped in a towel. He averted his gaze but found himself watching as she picked through her bag and pulled out an older green dress she liked to wear. Her legs were still wet, glistened, her hair slick and dark. His daughter looked very beautiful in that moment. Sexy, even... uhh... fuck, Gene. That dream about Lauren really fucked your mind! She continued digging, turned the bag around and dug more. “Great.”

Tamara asked, “what, Lauren?”

“No underwear, Mom! I didn't pack underwear... Ugh..”

“I have some you can borrow. They'll be too big on you, but for now, just go with it.”

Tamara dropped his hand and dug out a pair of thin red panties, handed them to Lauren who disappeared into the bathroom again. Gene's mind wandered. He'd seen those panties on his wife many times. He imagined what they might look like on his daughter. Gene shifted his weight as his penis started to harden.

- - -

A knock on the door was followed by, “dinner in five minutes. Downstairs, someone will meet you and take you back.”

Everyone had had a chance to shower and change clothes. Tamara felt much better already. Still overwhelmed, but clean, a sense of normality restored to their lives. She no longer felt sticky and gritty, had managed to run the hot water over her neck long enough to mostly relieve the stiffness.

Gene had shaved, looked like a new man, the long grey shadow removed from his face. He gave her a small smile and she returned it. She was still angry with him, confused, still upset. But after what they'd been through, there was no time to take it out on him, too much depended on them sticking together and staying focused.

The family of five strode to the steps and descended. A thin pale man with light blue eyes greeted them and led them deeper into the house. They passed a room full of magazine covers. Tamara couldn't put the pieces together enough to understand the connection. They seemed random. Celebrities, business logos, smoking factories, flowing rivers.

That room opened into a large dining area. It looked more like a mix between a trendy cafe and a medieval scullery. Long wooden shelves and cabinets lined one wall, the opposite side featured a dozen small tables, with a row of bench booths along the wall. In the middle was a long wooden table, a deep purple fabric running along the middle and hanging over the sides.

Three people sat at the far end. Tamara recognized Holly, but the older couple sitting with her were unknown.

The man rose, as did the woman beside him. He said, “Ah, yes. There you are again, Gene. Welcome. It is very good to see you. Good to know you made it safely.”

Gene shook his hand, said, “Victor... I... didn't expect to see you here.”

“Did Holly not explain?”

“Does Holly ever explain anything?”

The older man chuckled, said, “I see you have spent enough time to understand her better, yes?” He glanced at Tamara, drew his hands to his chest, took steps toward her. “Oh, my, lovely Tamara. I expected you'd be beautiful. I wasn't expecting this!” He took her hand, kissed it, held it between his own. “My apologies, I cannot help but kiss the hand of a stunning woman. My name is Victor Harrelman. Let me introduce you to another stunning woman, my wife, Theresa.”

“Welcome to La Maison Sensuelle, our home here in Switzerland,” the older silver-and-black haired woman offered.

“Th-thanks. I... Gene mentioned meeting you, he spoke warmly of it.”

“Ah yes, warmly. It was a rather warm night, was it not, my dear?”

Victor puffed out his chest and smiled, “very warm, indeed.” Gene cleared his throat, Victor returned to stand beside him. “Ah, well, yes. Let's eat, shall we? You must be very hungry. Ah, you must be the lovely Lauren, I've heard...”

- - -

The meal arrived immediately. Veal with mushrooms in a creamy sauce filled a platter. Two pots of fondue offered rich cheeses dipped with bread, steak, and olives. A bowl of cherries and grapes sat at one end of the group, peeled, spiced shrimp at the other. Bundles of bread and fresh butter sat beside lox and capers.

They ate mostly in silence a few moments before Victor said, “so you'll stay here tonight, it is settled. Plan to be here until things are further decided. Here, you are safe. Don't leave the grounds, not without orders. I understand Colonel Fleur has made you aware of following orders while you are with us, yes?”

Gene nodded.

“Good. Colonel Fleur follows my orders.”

“Your orders?”

“My orders.”

“So... you run Marker 1?”

Victor laughed, “no one runs Market 1, my dear man. But perhaps I am the most responsible, yes. See... we have cells scattered right now, on purpose. Decentralized leadership helps us stay off the radar. Helped I should say. In Europe and parts of the Middle East, I am in charge, yes. But there are others. We fight together when we must, but right now, we fight our own battles, yes.”

Gene sat silently, pondering his words. Logan surprised him by speaking up. “Where do the soldiers sleep?”

Victor smiled warmly, “curious one, eh? Bunkers, my boy. We have several on the property, not visible from the air with the trees. Enough room and supplies to keep an army of eight hundred fed and housed for a month. Let's hope it doesn't come to it!”

“Bunkers,” the twelve-year old sounded eager to know more. “Like, below ground?”

“Precisely! Tomorrow, I will personally take you on a tour of the grounds. You'll get to see the bunkers.”

“Neat!”

“Neat indeed.”

Gene smiled at Logan, felt a bit of fatherly pride that his son was not so burdened by what had happened to lose his contemplative and curious personality. He glanced at Finch, saw the fourteen-year old swallowing another cut of veal. Gene asked Theresa, “any chance you have a pool we could use? We had one at home. Was a place we like to gather together when... when things were rough, you know? Was our haven, a place to relax and... let things go.”

“Naturally! Of course, we have three pools near the house, another with the guest complex down the hill. Use any of them.”

Gene nodded and thanked them.

Lauren looked a bit sad, said, “didn't bring my suit, Dad. Can't, I guess...”

Theresa brushed the air with her arm, looked serious, said, “nonsense, sweet girl. You're in Europe now, American sensibilities have no place here. We swim without suits whenever we feel like it, you should to. Enjoy it, please.”

Lauren wrinkled her forehead but said nothing as she popped another cherry in her mouth.

- - -

“Gene, how about your children go try out the pool while the four of us retire to the library for drinks. Scotch?”

“Sure.”

“Tamara?”

She replied, “usually, no. But right, make it a double.”

Victor smiled, “good girl!”

- - -

Logan's naked body splashed quickly into the 8-foot end of the olympic-sized pool nestled between two wings of the mansion. Despite the presence of an older woman watering plants nearby, the boy unashamedly disrobed and jumped in.

Lauren wasn't so quick. She sat at a table next to Finch, watching Logan splashing and hooting. Lauren eyed her brother beside her, wondered if he was going to join the younger boy.

Finch seemed to hesitate, then slowly removed his shirt. He stepped up to the pool, hesitated again, then ripped down his pants and jumped in. Lauren's eyes couldn't avoid seeing his young penis swing freely before he entered the water. She tried hard to forget the image despite the fact that it brought back the sensation of his hard cock against her leg.

Lauren looked around, waited until her brothers were at the other end of the pool, then quickly removed her clothes and slipped into the water.

- - -

Despite the distance separating them, Finch caught a glimpse of Lauren's nice breasts as she pulled her shirt up. His sister's nipples were dark, hard, small dots on her soft, curvy boobs. Her pubic hair was visible a few seconds before she climbed down and lowered her body below the water.

Finch's penis grew hard and he moved back to the other end of the pool, hoping to see more of his sister's body.

- - -

The scotch burned nicely going down, but Gene wasn't getting closer to any real answers. Victor had hedged in explaining Marker 1's reasons for keeping an eye on the six members of Whitehead, chalked it up to a general strategy of maintaining contact with 'interesting groups.'

“Focus, Mr. Polanski.” Victor's use of his last name matched the seriousness of his tone. “You have two duties. First is to help us discover what you know that No Limits wants forgotten. And second, you're an agent of Marker 1, as is your wife. We saved your lives, Mr. Polanski. You've got nowhere to go that is safe except with us. The sooner you recognize the truth of that, Gene, the easier this will go.”

“Truth. Funny word for a man who runs an organization long-experienced in helping tell lies.”

“The two are not mutually exclusive, my friend.”

“Perhaps.”

Victor was silent a moment, said evenly, “nineteen-hundred and twelve, Mr. Polanski. Nineteen-hundred and twelve.”

“What?”

“Our current estimates of the people killed in the new war. Thirty-seven different countries. Oh, no one in the mainstream has made the connections, but the state intelligence agencies know, and so do we. By the time you wake tomorrow it may be double that. These aren't invading armies, no planes are dropping bombs. Yet. But it's a war, Mr. Polanski, a goddamned war.”

“A war for what?”

“Control. Of banking systems, of technologies, of governments. Networks and systems have reached the point of awareness. Perhaps not yet to the singularity, but we recognized the fight to come when the lives of common people became so carefully integrated with information systems, monitoring networks. You know. You made a lot of money in that line of work.”

Gene said nothing.

“The winner, if there is one, will lock down control on more than you can imagine, Gene. Control of the vital backbone of economies and societies. Oh, it won't stay locked down, not in the long-run, but that's not the point. The reason we fight, the reason I've spent billions of dollars, is to ensure that those in control when this is over are the least likely to cut off liberties and institute authoritarian or fascist control. I won't stand for it.”

Gene pursed his lips. “Won't stand for it. You seem to believe you can run the world, Mr. Harrelmann. A lot of men have died trying to do that, and they usually take a few million dead soldiers and civilians with them.”

“Make no mistake, so will I.”

“I'm starting to believe that. What I don't believe I know is who's side you're on, Victor. When I was at Whitehead, men like you worked for someone. Government man slipped wild? There's always a government connection somewhere.”

“No longer necessary, Gene. States are tightening down on rights and mercy for a reason: they know they are becoming irrelevant.”

“Irrelevant. How.”

“Slowly, to be sure, but it is inevitable. The rise of information systems, and soon, the coming singularity, will render the masses more capable of doing things without governments. It started with Meetup and Facebook and Twitter hashtags. People got the word out during revolutions, riots, terrorist attacks. They came together for a million different reasons. They found each other and guess what, those who want to change things dramatically got together too.”

“Anarchists.”

“Yes. Ironic, I know.” Victor downed the last of his scotch and poured another. “And what you know is that I'm right. Technology has reached a point where things are possible. Small odds, to be sure, no sure things. But it was coming, and No Limits started it early. And they started early when they found out about the records on Whitehead.”

“I don't know what they want, Victor. If I did, I'd have said so. Every time I try to think about it...” Dull throbbing pulsed into his temples. “I come up with nothing. I wish I knew...”

“As do I, Gene. As do I.”

- - -

It was amazing how quickly the other two had come around and started enjoying the pool. Logan was paddling strong end-to-end, pausing to laugh from time to time. He felt wonderful. His mind still raced through the events of the last day, including the seconds he'd spent squeezing the pretty blonde's ass. Sure, his mom had made him stop, but she hadn't scolded him, so it must be alright. He grinned as he remembered Holly's butt, squeezed his fingers together under water as if he were doing it again.

Lauren was slow to enjoy the pool, just resting near the edge, sunk to her chin. But she started to swim, slowly, and Logan's eyes started to follow her. She'd stayed around the edge of the pool, avoiding where Logan and Finch were splashing. Logan saw his sister's nipple a couple of times, once or twice the soft, wet curve of a butt cheek. It had his little penis hard, and when he was by himself at one end, he stroked his cock underwater.

It felt different. Less smooth but more contact, very wet but not particularly slick. He saw Lauren headed his way and stopped his strokes, held still as she passed, then started jerking off again after she went by.

- - -

Finch, too, was enjoying watching Lauren. Their family had rarely had nudity as a common thing since Logan was about seven. The boy had run around the house naked at times before dropping the practice. How easily we dropped our clothes here. I can't believe i'm nude, and so is Lauren... holy balls!

His penis stayed half-erect as he swam, never quite bulging but never soft. Lauren stopped at one point, leaned back against the wall, pulled her hair out of her face. Finch loved it. His sister's breasts almost came above the water, just the hint of her nipples below. The roundness of the top of her boobs was arousing, and Finch's cock rose fully.

Lauren moved up a step and stopped, turned around, sat on the edge of the ledge that was a foot or two below the water. She hunched over, hiding her chest, the water only up to her navel. Finch stared. Lauren's eyes were closed, seemed to be lost in thought. Finch eyed his brother several feet away. The boy seemed to be watching Lauren, as well.

Finch turned back in time to see Lauren raise up, her tight, dark nipples hard and dripping. Her lovely boobs left Finch touching himself as she leaned forward once more and removed them from his sight.

- - -

Boobs for a hero. Logan's body was shuddering as he jerked off watching Lauren sit at the far end of the pool. Pretty boobs for a hero. Those will do. The twelve-year old's fantasy seemed to be coming true, especially when she leaned back a few seconds and her tits came out to play. Logan stroked quickly, tried not to drown, and ejaculated underwater.

- - -

Finch moaned when Lauren turned and walked out of the pool slowly. Her beautiful round ass, her curvy hips, looked so wonderful to Finch. He thought about what they would feel like to touch, what it might look like to ride her from behind. He'd already seen enough porn to know doggy style when he imagined it. Lauren's body moved into shadow on the deck, and Finch came hard to the thought of fucking his sister.

- - -

Fucking idiots... both of them... Lauren sat wrapped in a towel in the dark corner of the pool deck, disgusted. Did they really think I didn't notice, that I wouldn't know what they were doing? Idiots... She'd seen them watching her out of the corner of her eyes. Lauren had avoided looking at them, disturbed that both her brothers were masturbating, and clearly, they were looking at her.

She sat stewing a moment before Finch rose out of the pool. He approached her table, his penis deflated, no longer swinging. Guess he blew it in the pool. Gross. She watched her brother, images of him masturbating slowly sliding into her thoughts, memories of his hard cock on her knee earlier that day.

Lauren saw Finch dry off, running the towel under his tightly-held nuts, his pubes obvious even in the low light. She felt wetness spreading down her labia, knew the tampon was leaking, and ran back to the bedroom.

- - -

“Tomorrow, after the tour, you two will be briefed. We need your help desperately, we're always short of people with intelligence and quick wits. You'll be made official agents of Marker 1. Unfortunately, it is a field promotion, of sorts. We'll have to give you a crash course as fast as we can. The rest... you'll do fine.”

Tamara replied flatly, “right... Agents... Look, Victor, about my kids... I won't let them be harmed. You can't have them.”

“I already have them, Mrs. Polanski. But I understand your point. The choice is theirs. I will not force them.”

“The choice is mine, Mr. Harrelmann. Ours.” Tamara took Gene's hand. “You can't expect to enslave our children.”

“Enslave, no, Mrs. Polanski. But I will not turn down volunteers, not even ones so young. There are always things around the compound they can help with. Will help with. See reason. Right now, this is home for all of us. And it's only going to work if everyone contributes, including your children. I promise I will not make soldiers out of them...” he sipped his scotch, “unless they volunteer to do it.”

Tamara fumed, felt threatened. “I assure you, that will not happen.”

Theresa spoke quietly. “Analogies. I love them. You fight for control of children. Marker 1 fights for control of civilians. You each are reasonable but see things differently. You fight and hold in the balance the future of three lovely young people. This war isn't about good and evil, not really, most wars are not. It's about determining how to best protect people from themselves, how to maintain the right grip on control, too much suffocates, too little... anarchy.”

“My beautiful philosopher.” Victor kissed her. “Have I told you I love you lately?”

“Yes. Tell me again.”

- - -

“mmmm... mmmm... ssssssnnn... ooohh...”

Lauren's fingers flew over her clit as she masturbated in the bathroom. She stood facing the mirror, watching herself, looking into her own eyes, watching her tight, dark nipples shake. Lauren wondered what Lance saw when he looked at her. How could he look at me and not know I love to cum. Did he not care? She wondered what Finch and Logan had seen in her when they jerked off in the pool.

Finch's cock seemed to pulse against her leg again, and she raised up on her toes, straining, using one hand against the counter for balance. She spread her legs wider, watched her hand move between her thighs. She brought her fingers to her lips, tasted herself, noted the iron flavor of the blood, and returned her hand back to her clit.

The image of Finch's flaccid penis as he rose from the pool hit her and she came hard. Lauren ground her thighs against the edge of the counter, almost humping it, rocking in circles as her fingers swept over her pounding clit. Orgasm washed into her fast, sent her rocking back on her heels and stumbling over the edge of the large shower stall.

“Oww! Ohhh... mmm...” She cried out as her butt hit the slick tile in the middle of her orgasm, sending shocks of pleasure and pain through her.

The door opened, “are you oka...” Finch's eyes centered between Lauren's splayed legs.

“Finch, goddamn!”

“I thought you were hurt... I... Uh... I heard...”

“Finch!”

Finch spun and closed the door behind him.

Lauren washed in a frustrating mix of pleasure, pain, and embarrassment as she slowly rose and turned on the shower.

- - -

“Looks like your children have retired for the evening. Care to join us for an evening swim before bed?” Victor had already shed his suit and stood naked on the edge of the pool, glass of scotch in his hand. “Come, it will do you good.”

Theresa joined her husband, clothes tossed onto a chair. Tamara looked at Gene, uncertain that she wanted to disrobe so cavalierly. Gene shrugged, said quietly, “might feel good, relaxing.” He pulled off his shirt and pants, flipped his underwear over his slacks, and slipped into the water.

Tamara stood a moment, watching the three people watching her from the pool. She looked back to ensure none of the kids were around, then removed her clothes and joined her husband in the deep water.

She floated for some time. On her back, staring up into the clear, cool sky. Stars twinkled, the soft lighting around the pool keeping things dark. A face pressed against her cheek, lips made contact. Tamara turned to look at Gene, a small smile on his face.

He said, “I love you, Tamara. I don't say that enough. I love you.”

“I know, Gene. I know. I love you, too.”

“I'm sorry. For everything. I should have told you, I just... I have no excuse.”

“Ok. I forgive you. This is all too hard right now, too hard for us to fight. I forgive you. Never do it again. Promise me.”

“I promise.”

Tamara settled in the water and let her feet bounce off the bottom, hugged Gene tightly. They kissed, his body leaned into her, and she felt his hard penis push against her stomach. She giggled, caught herself, glanced to where Victor and Theresa were similarly hugging and kissing. Tamara shrugged, and turned her lips to Gene's.

- - -

Gene wanted strongly to show Tamara how much he loved her. Words weren't enough, she had to feel it. His penis bumped her stomach and he groaned as she kissed him. Moments later, her hand drifted to his shaft, softly gripped it, stroked it slowly underwater. He moaned into her mouth.

His fingers found her pussy, slipped between her swollen labia, slowly stroked her hard clit. She moaned in reply, her body sinking back against the edge of the pool. The chlorinated water was wet but not slick, didn't make a very good lubricant. Tamara's wetness helped, though, and he pushed a finger inside her.

Gene's wife leaned into his ear, whispered, “they're fucking.”

- - -

Tamara watched Victor and Theresa copulating, her kneeling on a lounge chair, facing away. She could see Victor's ass clench and relax as he fucked her from behind. It was a gentle fuck, and soft moans came from the older woman's throat as her husband penetrated her.

Gene had turned his head, watched, turned back to her. “I want that for us. Come.”

He took her hand, led her out of the pool, bent her over a chair a few feet away from where Victor and Theresa rutted. Gene pressed saliva into her vagina, then brought the tip of his cock to her opening, pushed in.

Tamara sighed as Gene entered her, the warmth of his hard cock so welcome in her body. He stroked in and out, her vagina growing wet as the pool water was flushed away. Gene's grunts were light, steady, his hands squeezing her ass, tickling her crack.

She brought a hand up to her clit, twirled fingers slowly around her nub. A fire burned out from her sex, pulsing, building, rolling slowly higher and higher. Gene picked up speed, began humping her faster. Theresa moaned nearby, Victor's grunts growing louder. Tamara tensed, strained, jerked twice, and climaxed around Gene's cock.

- - -

Tamara's body tightened and shuddered as she came. Gene fucked her steadily, full strokes through her raw, swollen labia.

He heard Victor moan softly, “take my cream, my love. Take my cream.”

Theresa sighed, “yes, dear... give me your cream...”

Victor grunted and seemed to ejaculate in his wife's pussy.

Gene's arousal burned. His wife's slick pussy, wet, trembling around his length, the rutting couple nearby panting and moaning softly. It was more than enjoy to cause him to swell, swell, buck, and spill his seed in his wife's vagina.

- - -

They sat relaxing, Gene holding Tamara as they laid in the lounge chair. The cool night air had Tamara's nipples hard, and she loved the way her husband lazily tickled and touched them. Victor and Theresa were kissing, slowly picking up clothing.

Tamara felt no shame. It was the first time she'd had sex in front of anyone else before, and she loved the freedom, the sensuous way both couples enjoyed their spouses and enjoyed hearing and watching each other. She smiled, possibly the first genuine smile in days. Her hand grazed Gene's cock, caused it to stir, and she let out a contented sigh.

Victor and Theresa passed by, smiled softly at them. Theresa said, “that was lovely, my dears. Lovely. We wish you a pleasant night of sleep. Tomorrow will be busy, but enjoy tonight.”

Tamara nodded and did just that.

- - -

The children had arrayed themselves on the bed as if they wanted to be as far from each other as possible. Lauren was hanging off one side, Logan on the other. Finch sprawled in the middle, leaving no room for Gene and Tamara. He looked at her, shrugged, saw no other options.

Gene patted Finch's leg and the boy jumped. Gene whispered, “hey, kid. Scoot to the side, we need some room.

- - -

Finch hesitated. He though a moment about sliding over toward Lauren, knew she wore only a nightgown. The idea of sleeping next to her was a powerful one, and he started to move in that direction.

His mom had other ideas, moving onto the bed in such a way that Finch could only roll back toward his brother. He let out a sigh as his parents climbed in, and was soon crowded between his mom and Logan.