The Misbegotten

Through the million, million symbiotic synapses connecting him to his walker, he told it to move forward and off to the left. He wanted a better view of the devastation in the depression below.

The robotic chair obeyed.

It wasn’t an impact crater per se, but more of a conglomerate of five. The thin, dusty outer crust of the dwarf planet was ferociously battered in this location. The land itself had sunk deep into the icy underbelly, making it even more misshaped. It was a broad expanse, almost seventy-five kilometers across at some points. Broken ridges crisscrossed shattered mounts of pulverized, amorphous ice made opaque with a myriad of breaks and cracks. This was Haumea. It was a noteworthy Kuiper Belt object some five hundred and seventy-five kilometers across at its widest. It was about one-third the mass of Pluto.

Unlike Sol’s one-time ninth planet though, Haumea wasn’t a sphere. It was what scientists called a scalene ellipsoid. A fancy way of saying, it was a celestial object squished at its poles. Thus, the circumference of its’ equator was just about a third larger around than a similar measurement running from North to South Pole and back again. This was due to a postulated impact with a large planetoid of similar size more than one hundred million years ago. It was the supposed collision that had hammered Haumea into its uncommon shape. This was also the most plausible reason why this tiny dwarf had two moons – Namaka and Hi’iaka. Both were somewhat large for a dwarf planet of Haumea’s size to have captured with gravity alone.

He sat there upon his six-legged, crab-like divan chair. Its crustaceous skin glistened in the light of the ghostly flames burning before it. The pointed brines and thorny outgrowths cast long shadows behind the combined silhouette of him and his chair. He squinted through the out-gassing and smoke, though the noxious fumes didn’t come his way. With gravity one-third that of Earth’s Moon, the residual byproducts of the decimated base spewed and splattered from the surface of Haumea. It all went right into space at ninety degrees.

Still, he abhorred waste. Everything he and his drones had wrought upon this small planet-that-wasn’t-quite-a-planet reeked of waste. It made him uncomfortable.

It is necessary, Oöt’Aahtne, to have done what you have done here on this desolate imp of a world. A few hundred thousand lives are but a small thing. The probability the procedure has gone horribly wrong this time was too great to do otherwise. We must first form a beachhead and then we must search out the Khöol-Dhûr.

He fidgeted with the jelled Ichthyo-mask about his face. He adjusted the symbiotic being, so it felt less invasive about his boiled and wart-strewn skin. He was still dissatisfied with its' mucus-feel about the smarting rash and irritation of his outer layers. There was little he could do about it, since the mask was low-level acidic to begin with. It only served to cause him more pain than it should have.

He’d had a bad reaction to the radiation in this part of the Galaxy. The penultimate effect was, it had wreaked havoc upon the outer layers of flesh upon his malformed face. It was always this way for him. Whenever he came near a G-Class star, the affect was typically negative.

There was little he could do about that too.

He pushed his discomfort aside, focusing instead upon the last Human habitation upon this small world. Inward, he hoped beyond hope his drones had found more Åksha-Ishtäri. Yet, he felt it a waste of emotional effort. This sentiment, up to this point, had proved unfounded.

Against every scientific prediction postulated by his people, Humans didn’t morph well. They did not turn into the forms his race had projected they would. Everything was wrong. Nothing was right. It left a sweet-sour taste upon his cancerous tongue. He wanted nothing more than to regurgitate in abhorrence at the dismal failure he’d seen upon arrival.

He stared at the burning husk of the village below, his crooked brow furling over malformed eyes. He urged greater magnification from the Ichthyo-mask. His different colored orbs searched through the rubble and flaming debris.

Hundreds of wicked looking drones probed the habitation for signs of life – the correct signs, that is.

It was hard to see, even though his mask, because the flames weren’t particularly bright. They sputtered and gasped from the lack of oxygen, illuminating the cracked, blackened ice about the settlement.

You know, Oöt’Aahtne, you will find no more Åksha-Ishtäri here. The procedure has gone wrong. The Priests were wrong about these Human Beings. We should’ve waited, let them mature. Their crude DNA was too young a construct. The Khöol-Da’Jûri has not performed as it should, and now something terrible will menace the Galaxy.

These altered Humans will spread like a plague.

I must find the Khöol-Dhûr. At all costs, I must find it or we will lose this system and all its value.

His thoughts scattered at the whirl and high-pitched screeching of a messenger-drone. It skimmed the frozen surface of the insignificant planetoid toward him. A few feet from his six-legged chair, it propelled itself further from the ground, so he could look upon it at eye level.

“Report, Lord Scout. Report,” it announced with a monotone throb over a common comm-channel.

“Proceed,” he ordered, gruff. Some of his tones registered so low a human would’ve been hard pressed to understand them.

“Attack-Drone-in-Command is transmitting the condition of the human settlement as neutralized. No sign of Åksha-Ishtäri report his units, per your programing, Lord-Scout.”

He grunted, sounding like huge slabs of rock rubbing together.

The messenger continued. “The planetoid is now under your control. All ‘augmented’ humans faced termination as directed. The few surviving ‘immune’ humans are in a secure location.”

His grunt he cut off with a long sigh. “Very well, have those human yet alive police their dead. Have the demolition-drones free this world of every vestige of the vermin living here. Bring forth the Spy-Drones. I want to begin the search for the Khöol-Dhûr at once.”

“By your will, Lord-scout,” and with that, the messenger-drone streaked away. The many tasks he’d given it would keep it busy for some time.

Oöt’Aahtne, old even by the accounting of his people, urged his chair forward. Once again he adjusted the bothersome Ichthyo-mask about his huge, grotesque skull. His expression remained dark, foreboding. He would have to work fast if he were to make the way clear for Vanguard in time. He had to prepare this bashed-in sphere of ice before that time. He and his drones needed to attend to the defenses they would grow in the next few cycles. He had to fill the craters, their ridges to level. He had to sow the ice with the soils of their home world, transform it and change it. He had to make it viable without proper gravity and atmosphere.

Overseeing the terraforming processes were always the most tedious. Every planet, every asteroid, every comet was different. They had different chemical compounds, abundant in this, but wanting in that. The list was endless, every time.

And still, he had to program thousands of drones to seek and discover the location of the Khöol-Dhûr. Since he had unearthed how bad things had gone this time around, its’ whereabouts were of the upmost importance. Though he had so much to do in preparation for the fore-runners, he would not rest until he had the Khöol-Dhûr in his hands – all three of them.

We should’ve never chosen a race with only double-helix DNA. We should’ve known better!

*****

Estefan came from the Dermal-Cleanser with only a towel wrapped around his waist. His feet upon the marble sounded loud. He wasn’t wearing any Anti-Grav at the moment, so floor had to bear all four hundred and fifty pounds of him.

He stepped before the washing consul and looked into the Holo-mirror. It reflected his digital image with life-like clarity. It had taken him about two years to get used to the full functionality of such a device.

Standing before it, he could flick a finger toward it’s’ edge and actually make his image rotate. It was much like the playing the Sims back when he was a kid. The fact it was him gazing at the back of his own head was unsettling. But he got used to it with time.

He looked the same as he had now for more than two hundred years. Before that he had appeared older. His face had once been more chiseled, lined. His jaw had been more angular, his cheek bones sharper. There had been the beginning of crow’s-feet at the edge of each eye. His skin had shown the vestiges of weathering. He guessed he’d aged to somewhere around thirty-five.

All of that was gone now. Each year after he’d turned one hundred and fifty years old he had appeared younger. Until he was almost two hundred, then the regression had stopped. Ever since, he looked just as he did right now. His face was forever trapped somewhere between a man’s and a boy’s.

To others, he looked no more than twenty-three, twenty-five at the most. His skin was perfect, his eyes completely white around his irises, his teeth just as brilliant. His jawline has softened. Most of the angles about his visage rounded, smoothed, almost.

He did appear young until one gazed into those eyes. That’s where the illusion faded. There was too much behind Estefan’s gaze. He had seen too much. He had done too much. He had seen people killed, maimed, tortured and raped, men as well as women. Some of it he had done himself, in his younger days, when the struggle for Angel Free Town hadn’t been quite finished. He had taken drugs on occasion and drank to excess on many. He had fucked his first cousin, his one-time, step-sister – sometimes at the same time. There was too much behind his eyes. They were a dead give-away.

He was an Old-Timer, one of the oldest.

He saw the beginnings of a five o’clock shadow. In truth, it was more like a “48-hour shadow” since his facial hair grew at a glacial pace. He waved his hand across a sensor upon the top of the washing consul. It connected to his ‘Swarm.

Promptly, it began to form a shaving-bot. He stood still letting the many-bladed, robotic device shave him. It hovered about his face, whizzing back and forth, up and down until it completely it’s task. It flew, soundless into a new-made opening in the consul. Wherein, some unseen mechanism would clean it. Later, it would dismantle itself to regroup with the rest of Estefan’s ‘Swarm at some other time.

He paid it no mind, rubbing his face, gazing closer into the Holo-mirror. He checked for nicks or abrasions he knew weren’t there, but it was a habit. It was one he had developed when he’d first started shaving, back when he used a disposable razor. Back then, he nicked himself just about every day.

With half a mind, he waved for lotion and the Grav-canister came from the shelf at his left, settling into his hand. He flicked at the sensor and a few dabbles of milky liquid spewed forth. He released the canister and it floated back to its place on tiny Grav-lifts, nestling back into its previous position. He was rubbing the lotion on the skin of his face when Sandy walked in.

She was nude.

Her defined arms and legs were still her best features after her long, tantalizing toes and high-arched feet. Like him, she looked near the teenage girl he had met so long ago, back in High School. It had been upon the breezeway crossing Avenue Fifty-four. Her flared hips and dimpled buttocks, her full breasts with their flushing areolas and pink nipples, her light brown eyes and aquiline face – all were the same. Her mid-length, wavy hair was still tinted russet, settled about her unchanged visage. It should’ve been scraggy and rough, shot entire with white. The hair of a two hundred and fifty year old corpse, but it wasn’t. It was alive and vibrant; much like when had met her way back in 2017.

Unable to help himself, his eyes darted down to her pubis and was somewhat shocked to see she’d shaved. Usually, she grew a trimmed, neat and narrow landing-strip of hair there. Now, she’d changed her mind and went bare as the day she was born.

He wondered why.

“Are you going to come out and play with us?” she asked, impish and coy. She walked up to him, her smile growing.

His eyes narrowed with mock suspicion. “I just cleaned up, my love, and the Null-ship will be here within the hour,” he replied. They had been waiting for almost a week and a half for the ship no Human Celeste could sense, no amount of sensory could detect and, for the most part, no one could see. Null-ships were just that, complete null. In fact, they’re more like ghosts, he thought to himself.

Soon the Aegis Synod would begin its’ trip to Europa. Once there, they would retrieve the Shadow Spark and hide it, forever, from humanity.

“But, honey, it’s just girls out there right now. I need a bit of man in the mix, you know?” she pouted with an exaggerated bat of her eyelashes. “Would you mind if I got you a little dirty? It’s the good sort, the fun sort of dirty… What do you say, huh?”

“We don’t have enough time to do it the proper way.”

Sandy huffed and reached for his hand. Then, at the last second, she took him by the wrist. “I’m not talking about the Deluxe Package, my dear. I just want a little tussle. You know, I want you to mess up my hair a bit.” The cast of her face was innocent, but the intent behind her words made it seem naughty at the same time. Besides, she’d had the hair upon her head implanted with Stim-grō ages ago. It was never messed up.

He chuckled as she led him from the Grooming room and into the large chamber, serving as his private quarters. He saw Katie and Tirza at once, sitting in the middle of his huge bed, naked. They were facing one another, their bare rear ends upon the bunched satin sheets, kissing.

Tirza’s legs straddled the larger woman’s at the top of her hips. She had her knees bent, touching along Katie’s sides, her feet flat on the bed behind the other woman.

Estefan’s cousin had scooted forth as much as possible, so her knees bent as well. Her feet were flat upon the sheets too. She had her arms around the tiny woman’s waist, her fingers digging into Tirza’s pliant flesh.

Between them, their breasts came together, nipples rubbing upon one another with each movement.

Tirza’s hands moved along Katie’s shoulders. They craned their heads one way, then the other, enjoying their mutual taste.

Katie’s hair was dirty blonde today, splayed down to the middle of her back.

Tirza’s was no different than it had been when Estefan had dated her centuries earlier. Forever, it was dark to light brown and then back again, wavy, about her shoulders.

From a distance, Estefan could see them pull closer together, their vaginas mere inches apart. Their need was strengthening. He knew before he felt it, he would bugle below the towel he was wearing. His vision seemed to narrow and all else in the room faded away. Only the tug of Sandy’s palm clasped about his wrist kept him from drifting away completely.

She guided him to the bed.

His eyes never left his two wives as they held each other, unaware he and Sandy were approaching the bed.

“Aren’t they beautiful?” asked the wife at his side. Her eyes drank in the nude forms of her Sisters-in-Marriage.

He nodded, his manhood swelling to a painful girth, distracting him. He doubted he could speak at the moment.

Sandy let go of him, turning to face him square. Her other hand came up to his waist where he had synched the towel. Her eyes watched him as he continued to watch Katie and Tirza.

They had rearranged their legs so they could come closer together. Now they plastered themselves along the full length of their bodies. Estefan could see the intimate brush of their woman-ish parts through the tangle of their limbs.

Tribbing, he thought, remembering the word from his time in the twenty-first century. The rubbing of two vaginas, one against the other, both of them shaved.

Every once and a while, one of them would swirl her hips, making vigorous contact. The other would shake with ecstasy whenever their delicate lips touched.

Sandy grinned, wolfish, flashing her fingers over a glowing sensor on his towel. It dropped onto the floor without preamble.

Estefan didn’t notice.

Sandy didn’t waste any time. She dropped to her knees and took him in her mouth as far as she could.

Above her, Estefan gasped with shock, grasping at breath she had stolen from him with her unexpected move.

She couldn’t take the full length of him as Ramona and Katie. But, after hundreds of years of love making, she had perfected other methods.

Estefan was never dissatisfied with her oral performances. When he peered down at her, she stared boldly up at him, cupping his testicles with the tips of her fingers. She held onto them every time she came away. His thick member glistened with her saliva.

He reached down to stroke her hair.

With her other hand, she kneaded one of his buttocks for a few seconds before she let her fingers find the middle between his cheeks. She pushed them into the crack a couple of inches. The tip of her middle finger tapped against the puckering muscle of his anus.

He closed his eyes, eyelids fluttering.

She took as much of him as she could, humming as she did so. She pulled him toward her clutching his scrotum, fingering his sensitive sphincter.

He pumped in and out of her, over and over, filling her with as much as himself as he could, thrusting harder and harder each time.

She held onto him, taking the force of his intensifying assault on her throat. She pushed her hand deeper into the cleft of his rump, inserting her finger to the first knuckle. That made him clench around her digit, his whole body going rigid. She released his balls and reached around his leg to run her nails along one of his calves.

All the while, he impaled her head, time and again, though not too hard. He knew he could severely injure her, since his inhuman density made his manhood as hard as stone.

They both knew their limits. Time and practice had made them experts. They knew where to draw the line they couldn’t cross. So, he kept at it as she kept urging him, caressing him in her special way until.

No more than a minute later, she could sense the tension building within him. She knew. His orgasm was near.

With little warning, she pulled him out of her mouth, but jammed her finger deeper into his anus. His cock looked like it was about to explode in her face. The head of it engorged to the point of stretching. She could see blood throbbing up and down its’ length. Her eyes sparkled at the sight.

“I want you, Effy… now!” she said in a throaty voice. Her free hand came around to stroke him along his full length. She swallowed hard. It was obvious she had abused her tonsils against him.

Estefan was about to pull her to her feet when something clipped into place about his waist. He glanced down to see a wire-thin, anti-Grav suspension unit fitted around him.

Tirza’s smiled back at him as her hands came away from the fastening device. She already wore a similar one. “Since you’re going to make love to my sister,” she explained. She knew the suspension unit would nullify more than half Estefan’s weight. Two hundred pounds was an encumbrance Sandy could bear with ease.

He glanced up, watching Katie walk on her knees across the bed toward them. “Glad you could join us, cousin,” she purred, the cast of her face wicked.

Though, all their family – other than their offspring - had perished long ago, they weren't true cousins anymore. Some might argue the point. And yet, they’d been sexually active when everyone was still alive, so when someone did raise a fuss, they laughed. The last time that happened had been well over two centuries ago. Between the two of them now, it was more of a naughty joke than anything else.

“I hadn’t planned on it, Kat, but Sandy here was quite persuasive.”

Sandy stood, turning Estefan around, her hand still gripping his erect penis. Letting go, she scurried up on the bed, swinging her legs around, laying on her back. Her sex opened before him, moist, inviting. She bent her legs at the knees, so, like the petals of a blooming flower, her folds opened further.

He could see the glistening, pink sweetness surrounding the small opening of her vagina, darkness about the blush of her lips. He came forward, his hands snaking about her legs, right above her knees. He applied pressure, pulling her toward him so her butt was at the edge of the bed. He gazed into her eyes for a few moments, his chest heaving still from her energetic blow job.

She returned his look. “I want to feel you inside, Estefan.”

He let go of her legs, taking hold of himself and positioned the head of his member upon the verge of her flowering labia’s.

At either side of her head, Tirza and Katie sat. Their legs they tucked underneath them in opposite directions, as if they had planned it in advance.

He shared a quick glance with each of them. Their expressions were the same. They were eager to see him enter the woman lying on the bed before him. He could tell. He’d seen it before, thousands of times. His wives enjoyed watching.

He pushed his hips toward her and watched as the head of him disappeared into the damp softness of her.

She moaned and arched her neck, her head driving into the bed, the sheets gathering about her ears.

He closed his eyes, letting the sensations he felt below consume him. He held her by the waist as he slid as far as could into her, until his flesh bumped her tender folds.

Sandy rocked her hips against him, counterpoint to his angle. Her pubic bone bent his length within her, delicious pressure. She squeezed him as hard as she could manage.

He was like putty in the grip of her, opening his eyes to stare back down at her in shock. After so long, she could still hold him as firm as she had with her palm.

“Pull it out slow, babe,” she murmured, fists gathering the bed covers, twisting.

Both Tirza and Katie were rapt.

He began to withdraw from her, feeling the luxurious ripples and ridges of her vaginal walls. Her clutch was exquisite against him. He continued withdraw himself from her until nothing but the glands of his penis remained inside. He could see the edge of its’ head crowning, but for no more than a second. He held his breath and pushed himself all the way back in, faster than the last time – harder, with more urgency. The weight of his scrotum bounced against her buttocks.

She squealed with pleasure. “Oh god, no matter how many times you do that, Effy, I love it!” she moaned. She relaxed the arch of her back for a moment, the upward thrust of her hips giving him better access. But, the moment his forward momentum stopped, she arched her back again. She bore down and squeezed him with animalistic ferocity.

He grunted as he almost came free of her again, then plunged back into her, his upper thighs slapping into the sides of hers. One of his hands came free of her waist, tracing up her torso until it found her breast. He pinched the bright pink nipple there, making her breath catch in her throat. He almost came out of her again – swifter than before. He impaled her less than a heartbeat later as she began to meet him stroke from stroke. Their bodies began moving in rhythm with one another as he increased the tempo. Over and over, each shove of his cock thrust into her warm wetness.

She kept up with him, opening wide, and then grabbing hold as he withdrew.

The pace continued to increase; the slap of flesh became louder, the guttural groans and gasps for air growing in volume as well.

Sandy reached up, clutching him at the elbows as she brought her feet up, her heels digging into the lower part of his ass. She held on tight.

Estefan grabbed her, firm by the side of the neck, leaning over her, pounding her harder.

She continued to meet him each time he delved into her. She was energetic, exuberant. She lifted herself completely off the bed every time, using the newfound purchase of her hands and feet.

Unable to contain their rising ardor, Tirza and Katie resumed their kissing over Sandy’s head.

She wasn’t watching though. Her eyes were forward, locked onto Estefan. He was all she wished to see.

Though the bed was gigantic and bolted to the floor (a precaution should Luna Prime lose its’ Grav-generators), they managed to make it move within its’ fastenings.

Below him, Sandy was beginning to pant. Her breaths were coming in and out in quick bursts. “Oh-oh-oh, E-eff-ff-eff,” she kept muttering again and again. “Pl-pl-please, don’t-t-t-t stop. Don’t stop, baby. Don’t stop. H-h-h-hard-er-er-er!”

He obliged and increased his speed. “I’m going to fuck you hard,” he promised, his voice no longer his own. It was bestial, growling.

“F-f-f-fuck… me… h-h-hard!”

She released one of his elbows, her hand shooting down between her legs, finding her tiny nodule. She began to twirl it, feverish, circle after circle, until her clitoris emerged from its hood. She pushed downward, exposing more of it until it rubbed against the shaft of Estefan’s rock hard manhood. Her entire body went rigid. Her heels dug in with harsh abandon.

It was not painful at the backs of his thighs. He was a Heavy.

Her nails bit into his arm as she applied every ounce of strength she possessed, clasping his cock as hard as she could.

He continued to hit her sensitive clit and she held on for dear life.

“F-faster, Eff, faster,” she begged.

He obeyed with long, deep forceful pushes, seeming to rocket in and out of her. Though now, he no longer let himself slap against her. He knew he would bruise her as he had Flavia weeks prior.

Instead, he made certain he arrested his forward momentum within the last inch of her. It was a technique he had perfected over the years. Practice, practice, practice, he thought absently, in pace with the humping of his back.

“G-go-god, Eff, I’m, I’m s-s-s-so close,” she just managed through clenched teeth. Her body went taut with strain.

“Tell me when. I want you in my mouth,” he commanded as he continued to assault her vagina.

So fast now, his other wives stopped to watch. The sides of their heads touched as their eyes filled with hunger.

Sandy wheezed for what seemed like an eternity as Estefan rifled in and out of her. His hips were like pistons in an old-time, combustion engine.

Then, “I’m -,” was all she was able to convey as a tremendous shudder took her. The sensations swept her away.

Estefan came from her in a flash and sank between her legs. He covered her labia’s with his mouth.

She gushed into him. Her body wracked with orgasm as he took every bit of her and swallowed.

His tongue flecked at her sensitive nub between each squirting flow. Sandy’s body was like clockwork. He had figured it out a long time ago.

She continued to buck and shake upon the bed for some time after. Katie and Tirza came apart, moving swift to Sandy and began kissing her on the lips and suckling her breasts. They prolonged the ecstatic release coursing through her.

Estefan licked and sucked at her from below, intent on leaving no drops behind. He wanted everything that had spewed forth tasted, ingested. He wanted her sloshing in his belly.

A while later, Sandy’s orgasm began to subside, then finished altogether. Estefan came from her, his jaw and neck dripping with her.

At once, his other wives rushed to him on their knees and began to kiss and tongue him wherever he was wet.

He put his arms around each of their waists, rubbing his fingertips along their hips, thighs and buttocks.

They went about cleaning him.

None of them changed position for a long while; until Sandy’s breathing had finally returned to normal. The flush of red about her skin dissipated, and then she sat up. She wove her way through her Sisters-in-Marriage. Her hands sought Estefan’s face.

He smiled down at her as she cupped his face and kissed him hard on the lips. He returned her kiss, though he was still holding onto the other two women. Both of them were patient, waiting for them to finish.

“Your turn, Estefan, I want you to cum for me now,” she said.

“Ok,” he acquiesced.

As quick as a feline, she flopped on all fours, backing up to him, her round ass pointing right at him.

Tirza giggled.

“He’s gonna cum fast that way,” Katie pointed out, a lopsided grin on her face.

Sandy breathed a chortle. “I want to feel it shoot in-,” she was about to say when a high-pitched whir sounded throughout the chamber.

It wasn’t an alarm or anything like that. It was only an acknowledgement hail. But, it made them all freeze in place, seeing they were all nude and in the throes of sex.

Estefan flicked a finger over his left-hand index finger activating his ‘Swarm. “Reyna trace the incoming frequency for identification.”

The room swirled with Nano-bots for a moment. “My dear, it is your wife, Synoddess Flavia, the Guardian,” answered the complex processing unit.

“Pipe in the call,” ordered the Keeper. He turned from the bed as a life-like projection of his one-time, half-sister formed from the floor up a few feet away. “Flavia, you have news?” he prompted.

She appeared to glance up from something she was looking at one her side. “Yes, the Null-ship has arrived and -.” She was about to say something else when she realized he went unclothed and so was everyone else about him. “W-what the hell are you guys doing?” she stammered.

“I’m enjoying our husband,” replied Sandy before any of them could answer back. She had flopped on her tummy when Estefan had turned, addressing Flavia from that position on the bed.

“It sure looks like it, Sandra.” Flavia’s voice was stern.

Estefan knew she was envious at not being a part of their tryst, because she had other things to attend. Her speaking Sandy’s given name wasn’t the only clue. His one-time, step-sister’s face was blank. She appeared relaxed, but he knew it wasn’t the case. She was standing the way she did right before she entered combat. He could read her body language as if it were the writing of the stars.

“How long until it’ll be suitable enough to board?” asked the Keeper in an attempt to sidestep Flavia’s wrath.

She tapped her foot a few times before she answered. “Fifteen minutes.”

“Okay, we’ll be there in fifteen minutes,” he nodded, smiling.

“See you when you get here,” she said with a roll of her eyes and then terminated the connection.

Katie huffed through her mouth. “Well, Eff, looks like we’re gonna have to give her some real alone-time with you. Before she guts us all…”

Tirza laughed. “We should get cleaned up,” she urged, scurrying from the bed, walking toward Estefan.

He smiled into her kiss, leaning down to do so. He felt himself grow at the thought of the extremely petite woman in his arms.

She felt him below her breasts and squirmed out of his arms. “No way, Mister,” she admonished. “Otherwise, we’ll never leave this room.” She wore a huge grin, pinching his butt before spinning on a heel. She made for the Dermal-cleanser, her round buttocks bouncing as she walked.

He grew harder.

Katie came from the other side and kissed him as well, deliberately crushing her body to his. She knew her touch would bring his erection to its’ fullest.

He tried to get a better hold on her.

But she too shimmied from his grasp, wagging a finger at him in the negative. She followed Tirza into the washroom.

His eyes riveted to her ass as she sauntered away.

“Come over here, babe. Let me take care of that for you,” said Sandy, demure, from the middle of the bed. She was back on all fours again. “We’ve got fifteen minutes, honey, plenty of time to finish what we started.”

Estefan didn’t hesitate. He could never turn down such a tantalizing offer.

“Put it in the other hole, my love. I want to feel you in there instead!”

“God, Sandy, I love you!” he said in a rush and dove for the bed.